King of Dying Acting 113: Masterpieces Require Sacrifice (3)
A bit of backstory,
After the Emmy win, public interest in Kang Min had skyrocketed to unprecedented levels—as we've already covered.
He'd had some fame before, sure, but Koreans can't help getting a little weak in the knees for anything "international," right?
From King and Sovereign to Unbelievable, the Public Service Announcement Quartet, all his old works were dug up and flooding internet boards.
It was still too soon to openly speculate on the mastermind behind it, but the buzz was building toward that inevitability anyway.
MBS was catching flak as usual, but these folks were the majority—though not everyone.
Some people just can't stand seeing others loved and cheered; they twist with jealousy and hate.
The higher expectations for Kang Min rose, the more their spite curdled.
And those petty types weren't just clueless civilians outside the industry.
So, in short—
That was why SGS Entertainment—one of the top five agencies—ended up gleefully self-destructing.
"When's that Kang Min bubble gonna burst, huh?"
It started with Im Jeong-bae, the scrawny, anchovy-like executive manager at SGS Entertainment, grumbling away.
The day after Must Die to Live episode 13 wrapped filming.
A female junior pulling a drink from the vending machine in the break room shot him a dumbfounded look.
"What're you saying? At this point, Kang Min's no 'bubble.' Forget buzz—he won the Emmy for Lead Actor—"
"Bubble my ass! Kid, you think he earned that Emmy? Nah, S&W slathered it with production magic, got lucky viral on Netflix or whatever. That shit didn't even hit theaters."
"Well..."
"Stuck to supporting in King and Sovereign, plus that weird reenactment show and ads—nothing else but what he's doing now. And even that's not hitting as hard. Emmy hype got him a pity award, and everyone's losing their minds over it."
"..."
"Use your brain if you're not a total idiot. Why'd he drag in Aislinn Lewis and Gordon? Can't handle it solo, that's why. Watch—he's a one-hit wonder."
Pointing out prime-time Emmys don't hand out pity prizes, or that a 10-month rookie needs a decade of dramas under their belt, or that 30% ratings are a pipe dream these days—plenty to argue.
But the junior just sighed softly and dropped it. What good would arguing do against that smug mug? Just more bullshit.
Problem was, he wasn't the type to stop there.
Anchovy-man clicked his tongue and started schooling her too.
"Anyway, you too—what're you doing just sitting there?"
"What now...?"
"Aren't you Ji-yu's manager? Word is she's turned into a duck egg in the Nakdong River since Lewis joined. Chew out the PD, trash Kang Min who brought her—do something!"
"Sigh, I told you last time—it's baseless rumors."
"Baseless my ass. So they dug up her role from the dirt? Obviously they're trimming Ji-yu's part to hand over."
"That's not the case—"
"Get your shit together. Ji-yu's in year four—prime time. Manager too chickenshit to step up, just worried about her own neck..."
Yeah, this was probably the real motive.
Just like Wiztone managers lusted after Seo Bom, most at SGS coveted top star Yoo Ji-yu.
That infamous Wiztone manager Chu Yeon-ji had such deep backing she bounced back in two days after demotions—but this side lacked that scheming master.
The manager sighed and spoke up.
"Look, it's complicated, but Ji-yu's screentime won't shrink. Guaranteed."
She'd be thrilled if it did, honestly—
But he frowned like he'd been waiting, raising his voice.
"How can you guarantee that? You the PD?"
"Huh?"
"You the goddamn PD?!"
"No, that's not—"
"Ugh, whatever. Manager who doesn't give a shit about her talent, just her own ass—explains the mess. Do it right. People are watching."
"..."
Im Jeong-bae spat his piece and left.
Staring daggers at his back, the junior chugged her soda in annoyance, then shoved it from her mind.
Sure, it pissed her off, but the guy's character was infamous. No point taking him seriously—pure loss.
Only issue: Im Jeong-bae was sneakier than he seemed, and SGS brass took this way too seriously.
A day later, the summoned manager blinked blankly before the division head.
What the hell is this?
"Manager Seon-yul, let me ask seriously."
Ignoring her daze, the head knit his brows in displeasure.
"Compare Aislinn Lewis and Ji-yu skill-wise. Can she hold her own?"
"That's..."
She couldn't answer easily.
Yoo Ji-yu was top-tier among young actresses, alongside Seo Bom and Jin Seo-hye. Company marketing pushed that angle.
But having seen Lewis up close, "hold her own" didn't cut it.
Part innate aura, but mostly honed at Hollywood's heart.
Though she'd butchered it hilariously—
"So Ji-yu's lacking."
"Y-Yes..."
"And you knew but didn't report..."
"...It's not a big deal. Her role doesn't invade Ji-yu's turf. If anything, the PD's gone nuts-level casting—"
"Bullshit, spare me the clueless crap, Manager Seon."
The head tsked and snapped.
"People don't watch acting fit for roles. They see the actor's aura. This is way graver than you think."
"No, the role itself is like kimchi—"
"Lewis's part too small to matter? Worse! They'll compare her to Ji-yu's lead. 'Why's she the star and that an extra?' Image trashed. Don't you get how bad?"
"..."
She had arguments aplenty—tons—but no guts to face his rage.
This isn't it, she thought, but kept her head down, gauging.
He took it as admitting incompetence.
Snorting, he ordered.
"No more talk. Mandatory leave starting tomorrow, Manager Seon."
"What?! But Ji-yu's schedule tomorrow—!"
"Company handles it."
"..."
"Im Jeong-bae takes over. He's got depth. Best for Ji-yu right now."
"B-But..."
"No excuses. Out."
Seon-yul got booted without a word.
Stumbling down the hall in shock, Im Jeong-bae appeared.
He smirked, patting her shoulder.
"Told ya. 'Not as good as a Hollywood star' vs. 'No match at all'—worlds apart. Slacking with 'it's fine'? Brass won't buy it."
"..."
"Sucked honey long enough as Ji-yu's manager. Time to look elsewhere."
He cackled, waving dismissively as he entered the head's office.
Staring blankly, she sighed deeply, shook her head, and walked off.
Handle it yourselves.
I'm done.
"We need to voice dissatisfaction to MBS through unofficial channels now!"
Big talk in cozy conference rooms always sounds refreshingly plausible at first.
Im Jeong-bae's pitch at the management division actor team meeting was just that.
He slammed the table.
"Yoo Ji-yu is our team's pillar! We got firm promises for lead treatment! But now that's shaking!"
"Hm, isn't that overreaching? No screentime cut from lead per contract—"
"Contract didn't say jack about shoehorning foreign stars for buzz either! MBS profits, we lose! Why not demand fixes?"
"Er..."
Even worse: it felt kinda reasonable to float.
Broadcasters no longer lorded over agencies like old days.
No compensation demand—just gripe. If MBS bends, great; if they ask consideration, minor debt, no harm.
Win-win either way.
Managers nodded cautiously; team lead pondered but agreed.
Ball in the head's court.
"Fine. What to demand? Can't overdo. Something mild, ego-sparing, negotiable... but not too timid."
"Don't worry. I have it covered."
Im Jeong-bae boasted confidently.
And it was solid.
"MBS'll dislike it but swallow reasonable asks, right?"
"Yep."
"Demand clear lead screentime parity."
"Parity?"
"If Lewis gets a scene, Ji-yu gets equal. Fair, goodwill demand, no?"
"Hm."
"Indeed..."
Irrefutable logic.
No supporting role should outshine lead. If they get a scene, lead deserves match.
Fair ask. MBS can't refuse outright.
"Brilliant stroke!"
Head guffawed.
"They crave spotlight scenes for that foreigner—duh, after dragging her here. But then ours too."
"Yes."
"Proceed. Sharp thinking, Im. Impressive."
"Thank you!"
"Nail it—drops the 'interim' from your manager title."
"...!"
Jackpot—
Im clenched his fist.
Verbal promise from head? As good as sealed.
Seon-yul was out.
Dumbass.
Im sneered inwardly.
Doesn't matter if it's real danger. Brass thinks it is—that's key.
No guilt. Passing up opportunity? Idiot move.
Her fault for not clutching the visible prize.
"Thank you! I'll make it happen!"
"Good, good. Counting on you."
"Yes!"
Exiting the meeting, Im fought back grins.
Broker a star like Ji-yu, skim "legally" later—what couldn't he grab?
Lips nearly split at the thought.
No hesitation—straight to work.
Major agency formal protest? MBS responded in an hour.
Must Die to Live's Han Ye-seul PD called direct.
Yes—as expected!
Even broadcasters flinch at giants like SGS. Natural.
Smirking, he picked up.
But the content? Uh,
Way off his power-play fantasy.
"Hello? Im Jeong-bae, SGS Entertainment strategy division. You got our letter."
"Yeah... but it doesn't make sense. SGS mad about Aislinn Lewis's scenes?"
"Essentially, yes."
"So you want equal scenes for Ji-yu?"
"Correct. Serious issue for us; prepared beyond protest. Please consider wisely—"
"...Some people are weird as hell."
"Pardon?"
"Nah, nothing. Fine—if you want 'that' scene so bad, we'll chat with the writer and give Ji-yu the same. No biggie.
"...?"
"Anything else?"
"No, uh... nothing."
"Cool. Done then. Bye."
"?"
Im blinked at the dial tone.
That,
was too easy?
No, no—rookie PD. SGS size alone scares her. Makes sense.
Anyway, Im declared total victory—head's lavish praise, confirmed Ji-yu manager gig.
Envy all around, naturally.
"Haha, we'd be sunk without you, Im! SGS's pillar, you are!"
"All thanks to your wisdom, sir."
"Smooth talker—hahaha!"
Bowing amid trust shower, Im twisted a grin.
Life's a climb like this.
Ditched the loser junior, proved chops, earned trust.
Head's stamp opens team lead—and maybe more.
Hell of a minor ploy payoff.
Just starting.
Im giggled giddily.
A week later, entire SGS actor team—under head's firm nudge—gathered to witness Im's "genius" handiwork: Must Die to Live episode 13.
Kuhuhu, team lead in sight!
Tragedy complete.