Special Privilege
Director Bong Jun-seo.
If one were asked to describe his current state of mind, what words would even fit?
Joy? Surprise? Bewilderment?
The correct answer was all three.
After watching the drama Forest of Crime, Bong Jun-seo had done what every other director in the industry was doing—he had sent a script to YW Entertainment.
He had been desperate, yet he had not dared to hope. He knew full well where he stood in the industry these days.
The reply arrived far too quickly.
They could have just ignored me. Yet they even took the trouble to answer politely…
He had known the bitter chill of rejection more times than he could count. It had become familiar, and yet it still cut to the bone. When he opened the mail, he could not help but be stunned.
The sender was Jeong Yeo-un, CEO of YW. And the reason written there was astonishing: he wanted to meet in person and talk.
“So… you’re saying you want to do this?”
“Yes.”
They had scheduled a meeting at once, and that was how they had arrived at the present moment.
STALKER
Bong Jun-seo’s gaze flicked back and forth between the script and the young woman sitting across from him.
Hmm—
A soft snort of breath escaped him. The deep furrows carved into his forehead made no attempt to hide the weight of his thoughts.
At last he spoke, looking into eyes that seemed to hold entire constellations.
“There’s one thing I’d like to ask.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you choose this?”
I am a failed director.
A monstrous newcomer who appeared like a comet. Why on earth would she pick this of all things?
Is it because succeeding with a washed-up director would raise her own prestige and market value even higher?
Of course, there was nothing wrong with that. Everyone had their own convictions and the values they pursued. Chasing money was fine. Chasing fame was fine. Everyone did it.
But he had no confidence he could repay her for it.
“As you know, I used to be a big deal. Truly, enormously so. But now I’m nothing more than a failed director. You won’t find money, honor, or anything else of value left in me.”
Strands of gray hair caught the light and glinted.
“Whatever it is Gil Ara-ssi wants, I cannot give it to you. So if you came here chasing something, you’re free to walk out right now.”
“……”
Ara did not answer.
Tick. Tick.
The only proof that time still moved in the reception room was the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.
This ahjussi? Grandpa? What the hell is he talking about?
She had no idea. Between the white hair and the wrinkles, she couldn’t even guess his age.
So this director used to be famous, huh?
Once again, it must be said: Ara was proudly blind when it came to the entertainment industry—and most other things besides.
The reason I chose this…
She cast her mind back to the first time she had opened the script for Stalker.
STALKER
“What even is this. Stalker?”
The title alone was gloomy as hell.
“Another thriller?”
A stack of paper sat piled on one corner of her desk—every last one of them thriller scripts. The aftershock of Lee Eun-ju had clearly been bigger than anyone expected.
Anyway, Ara opened Stalker and began to read.
“Huh. What?”
The reason for her confusion: the genre of the “stalker” inside the script turned out, surprisingly, to be romance.
She kept reading.
.
.
.
And when she finished the last page, her chest felt tight. No—suffocating.
“Using the title as a fake-out is just dirty…….”
Thud.
She closed the script and stared at the roughly printed title.
STALKER
To summarize roughly:
This short film had only three characters.
Male lead: Kim Ju-an.
Female lead: Cheon Eun-bin.
Cheon Eun-bin was also the protagonist of Stalker.
The key point was that Kim Ju-an and Cheon Eun-bin were fated lovers.
And the final character: Park Seung-a, Kim Ju-an’s second girlfriend.
At a glance one might imagine a story where Kim Ju-an breaks up with Cheon Eun-bin, starts a new romance with Park Seung-a, and the obsessive protagonist Cheon Eun-bin relentlessly harasses them. Reality was different.
Protagonist Cheon Eun-bin carried one secret.
It was divine spiritual power—the innate gift of an extraordinary shaman.
Tragically, her lover and male lead Kim Ju-an was born under a fate that guaranteed death the moment he became entangled with Cheon Eun-bin.
To save the man she loved, Cheon Eun-bin ultimately committed the sin of revealing heaven’s secrets.
As the price, her eyes slowly went blind, and she began to fade from every person’s memory—including, of course, her lover Kim Ju-an’s.
In short, Cheon Eun-bin vanished from Kim Ju-an’s memory; he met his new destined partner Park Seung-a; and Cheon Eun-bin lingered around the edges of their lives.
“I’ve decided.”
Ara’s second—or maybe third—project.
It wasn’t because it was a new genre.
“This one was the most fun.”
An honest impression.
She delivered that same impression, undiluted, to Director Bong Jun-seo.
“Fun… you say?”
“Yes.”
Looking at the gaunt man before her, Ara continued.
“Honestly, I didn’t understand a word of what you just said, Director. This might sound rude, but I have no idea who you are or what you’ve been through.”
“……”
“I just… wanting to appear in a work that looks fun is a natural desire for an actor, isn’t it?”
!
“That’s what being an actor is. If I overstepped, I’m sorry.”
Clear, unwavering eyes. The warmth in that gaze and the bright resonance of her voice struck Bong Jun-seo’s heart.
Thump—thump—
The long-dead heart of a genius director began to resonate once more.
“I… see. Understood.”
Life slowly returned to eyes that had been empty.
“Ara-ssi. Thank you for saying that. If you do end up joining, is there a role you’d like to take?”
“Yes.”
Ara opened the script and pointed to one character with her finger.
Cheon Eun-bin.
The tragic heroine chosen by Ara.
“Could I see a bit of your Cheon Eun-bin? It’s funny coming from the person who proposed this, but I still need to check.”
“Yes, Director.”
The hunched, diminished Bong Jun-seo was gone. In his place returned the sharp gaze he had once carried.
Hmm… which part should I do?
The key point of Cheon Eun-bin.
What Ara settled on was, of course, the final scene.
The moment when Cheon Eun-bin, having repeatedly committed the sin of revealing heaven’s secrets to keep Kim Ju-an alive, finally goes completely blind and has been forgotten by everyone.
She is about to cross a crosswalk when the Kim Ju-an who has forgotten her approaches and helps her across.
After they cross safely, he offers a brief greeting and walks away with Park Seung-a. She watches their retreating backs with eyes that can no longer see.
Trickle—
Her closed eyes. Something warm and wet carefully delivered a cold warmth down her cheeks.
Bong Jun-seo left the YW building and rode a city bus home.
In the past, overflowing with dreams and passion, his talent and effort had borne fruit and brought him enormous success.
Ten million viewers.
Three times in a row, no less.
Something that was difficult even once—Bong Jun-seo had achieved it three consecutive times, cementing himself as a massive force in the industry.
But that success became a shackle.
The obsession that he must succeed. It tormented him mercilessly.
In the end he stopped making the works he truly loved and began chasing whatever trend was hot at the moment. He accepted push-in actors from investors to secure huge production budgets. He cast freshly debuted idols.
And the result:
Crushing critical failure. Absolute box-office disaster.
Still, a director who had delivered three ten-million-viewer hits did not fall from a single loss. But successive failures finally made every investor and industry connection turn their backs. They moved for money, after all.
And so, at the very end of the end, Bong Jun-seo challenged himself with a short film.
To find his original heart.
To return to the days when he had been young, poor, and overflowing with dreams and passion.
But today he realized something.
He had seen a woman who shone even brighter than his younger self.
And to that woman he had said he could give her neither money nor fame.
“What original heart?”
He had thought he had thrown it away. He had thought he had given up on desire.
He was wrong.
He was still trapped inside an unconscious compulsion.
For an actor, desire meant wanting to appear in a good work.
That was the reason she had chosen his script, she had said.
“As a director… I’m ashamed.”
The moment he saw Gil Ara’s acting, Bong Jun-seo offered her the role of Cheon Eun-bin on the spot.
Just thinking of a few minutes ago made his chest surge again.
Thump—thump—
The resonance of a heart.
This feeling he had not known in so long.
It was similar to what he had felt in his youth.
“I’ll need to rework the script a bit. And……”
Bong Jun-seo pulled out his phone and began scrolling through his contacts.
Rrring—
“Brother. It’s been a long time. This is Bong Jun-seo.”
His time began to flow once more.
That day she was cast as Cheon Eun-bin in Stalker, but she received a call asking her to wait just a little longer.
She carefully guessed it was probably a production budget issue. Since Director Bong Jun-seo was involved, she had looked into him separately after the meeting.
“Ugyagyagyagya!!!”
A monstrous stretch-and-yawn sound erupted from Ara’s mouth.
“Mm…… being spacious really is nice.”
For reference, Ara had moved into a new officetel.
After she had run into a fan by chance at the convenience store last time, the rough location of her home had been figured out. Her previous place had been in a one-room village with no security to speak of, so she had moved to avoid any potential danger.
Of course, moving was not something one could simply decide and do overnight, so for a few days she had stayed at Yu Ha-yeong’s place.
“I think we’ve gotten a lot closer.”
When bodies grow close, hearts grow close as well. Ara, who had never really had friends, felt quietly proud.
Meanwhile, back then in the YW CEO’s office:
“CEO! Absolutely do not—absolutely!!—put Ara on any game-related variety show!!”
“Huh? Why?”
“Just don’t do it if I say don’t do it!!”
“? Okay.”
Time continued to flow, yet the short film Stalker still showed no progress.
And so March arrived.
While people were still loudly arguing online—
“Huh. What’s this.”
[Drama]
▶ Forest of Crime(9.58/10)
Ara was staring at the semi-transparent system window floating before her eyes.
At last her first filmography entry had been filled.
When she clicked it, a brief description of the drama appeared.
◈ Role:‘Lee Eun-ju’
◈ Summary: Delivered shock and terror through a beautiful psychopathic serial killer’s twist.
A clue has been acquired.
Sensory Sharing has been strengthened.
“Huh? A clue?”
She had completely forgotten.
Ara selected the newly appeared clue.
36.387
“What? 36.387?”
The clue was far too cryptic. A number she could not even begin to guess the meaning of.
She stared at it and thought hard, but nothing came to mind.
So she checked the privilege she had acquired next.
▶ Sensory Sharing
▶ Insight(NEW!)
“Insight?”