Big Win Enter's Eye for Talent
Big Win Enter's office was a small space remodeled from an old billiard hall. Moo-young sat on the sofa, looking around in wonder.
'Feels like a loan shark hideout.'
That was his first impression of the agency he'd soon join. Jeong O-seok, who'd come along, glanced furtively at Moo-young, worried about the rundown setup. Was he regretting it?
'Jackpot!'
Of course, Moo-young had no such thoughts. He was just amazed by the unique vibe.
Go Kyung-min asked the two, “Green tea or coffee? What'll it be?”
“Green tea for me.”
“Coffee. So this is the president's office, and that's the practice room?”
A red carpet lay in the middle of the office, dividing the space. All the furniture was pushed against the walls to allow acting practice in the center.
“Practice room, cafeteria, and crash pad all in one. We've got folding beds in the storage closet.”
Go Kyung-min joked as he set down their drinks, sneaking a peek at Moo-young's expression. Would he change his mind about such a shabby company?
“Moo-young, sorry about this. With just two staff and two actors, we're short-handed. The president will be here soon.”
“No worries. I showed up early anyway.”
“Yeah, about ten minutes left. Tell him to take his time.”
The title was president, but the job was pure manager. Moo-young sipped his green tea, eyes fixed on the cabinet behind the desk.
“By the way, what's in there?”
“There? The cabinet?”
Pretty flecks of flower pollen trickled from the gaps. Maybe stacks of contracts? Moo-young's own bag, full of documents, glittered similarly inside.
Screeech.
Go Kyung-min opened the door casually. It was packed floor-to-ceiling with script binders and stacks of paper.
“Where we keep works. Everything from Chungmuro movie scenarios to drama contest finalists. If it passes through the president's hands once, he hoards it. His house is a mess too. Total chaos.”
“For character analysis?”
Nothing beat finished scripts for practice. Their uses were endless—not just character breakdowns, but grasping entire stories, training impossible without the full version.
“That's part of it, but honestly, the president's a script fanatic.”
Bang—!
“Sorry I'm late!”
Speak of the devil. The office door flew open with a booming voice. A panting, sweating man rushed in—Na Geum-dong, Big Win Enter's president, manager, and jack-of-all-trades.
“Sorry!”
He dashed over, bowing repeatedly. His name suited him; he had a kindly, plump face. The kind you'd meet in the countryside and get a bundle of apples from.
“President, where's Tae-seok?”
“Told him to park. Didn't want to be late. Heh heh.”
It felt like family already. The president didn't act like one at all. As he approached, Moo-young stood.
“Hello. Ha Moo-young.”
“Whoa! Goodness! Na Geum-dong here.”
Way better in person than on video! The aura no screen could capture was stellar. Tall, sure, but those eyes—like stars embedded in them, irresistibly charming.
“Sit, sit.”
They shook hands lightly and sat.
“Nice to meet you. Loved your YouTube clips. Heard the basics from Manager Go. New to acting, right? Man, you blew me away!”
Hahaha—even without laughing, his booming chuckle echoed in Moo-young's ears. Quirky speech, total character.
Moo-young glanced at O-seok before replying. “Must be thanks to a great teacher.”
Ugh, kid. O-seok suppressed a twitching cheek with a cough. So rewarding. He'd sent plenty to college auditions, but Moo-young was the first with tangible results.
“Alright then.”
Na Geum-dong caught his breath and got to business. “You've reviewed the contract terms, so about our company formally...”
Moo-young knew from O-seok's casual mention. Na Geum-dong and Go Kyung-min bonded as theater seniors and juniors. Lifelong actors who started this to stay in the game.
“Wanted someone to walk the path I couldn't, and to watch from the sidelines. Small now, but I'll stake everything to support our actors' careers.”
Desperate, tender. If it failed here, he'd live worlds away from this industry. Every day burned fiercely.
Impressive.
Moo-young's quiet admiration. Pure love for acting!
Na Geum-dong smiled softly. “Any direction you're aiming for? Like preferring dramas over movies, or genres, styles. Helps us tailor opportunities.”
“As long as I can act, I'm good with anything.”
Any good work!
The president couldn't hide his delighted grin. Welcomed any talent, but this attitude? Gold.
“Amazing! For someone so young.”
Good vibes all around. Na pondered briefly.
“But I lived that way first, right?”
If no contract, paths might never cross again. So he had to say it.
“Acting needs audiences. Flexibility's key. Sometimes you can't do what you want without them coming. Actor power matters—grabs good roles.”
“Visibility, right?”
“Exactly. Essential for pursuing dreams. Widen your spectrum, Moo-young. Don't stick to theater—try modeling, movies, dramas... Opportunities abound.”
Moo-young mulled it over. Spot on.
“Got it. Thanks.”
“Saw your web drama—you're already on it. Haha!”
Na's hearty laugh pulled Moo-young in too. He pulled the contract from his bag.
“Please take care of me. You handle all that flexibility stuff, right?”
The seal stamped boldly. Na's mouth fell open as he took it. O-seok and Go Kyung-min too. Expected some thought, but this?
“P-Prepared, huh, Moo-young.”
Moo-young just shrugged at O-seok. “Stamps make it hassle-free.”
“Damn right! Actors focus on acting—we handle the rest!”
To Moo-young, hassle meant Park Mun-cheol from ceiling issues, but Na took it differently. No need to correct; Moo-young just smiled.
“Manager Go, the seal!”
“Oh, right right. One sec.”
Na and Go fumbled for their seals. Then, a shadow flickered outside the door. Moo-young turned—gone.
What was that?
Tae-seok, the agency actor peeking at the new recruit after three years. Parked, but hesitated to enter and interrupt.
The burly, muscled man squatted in the hallway, texting his fellow actor. Ass cold, but who cared! Ears tuned to the lively chatter inside, timing his entrance.
“Okay, photo time?”
“Do we have to, President?”
“C'mon, for memory's sake. Manager Go.”
Moo-young in the middle holding the contract, Go Kyung-min and Na Geum-dong flanking. O-seok snapped pics on his phone.
“Smile!”
“Kimchi!”
“Ch—eeese!”
Clear shot of Moo-young and Big Win's seal. He peeked a V-sign with his fingers.
Click! Click!
“Done! Congrats, Moo-young!”
“Thanks, teacher.”
“Aigoo, such a good kid.”
Moo-young turned to Go and Na. “Family now—drop the formalities. Take care of me.”
“Sure? Alright! Us too. Manager Go'll handle most—speak freely anytime.”
“Call me whatever sticks—manager or whatever.”
Go and Moo-young clasped hands.
“Manager hyung it is. Next project? Web drama was fun, but I wanna act for real. Soon!”
Ooh, eyes sparkling brighter!
Na marveled, gesturing to the cabinet. Moo-young had peeked, but Na didn't know.
“Ta-da-da~”
Belting the old variety show Love House tune, he flung it open. Pointed proudly to the right stack.
“Pick! Left's done or scrapped—these are still casting.”
A trove of scripts seeking actors. Moo-young's gaze locked on one shedding flower pollen.
Hmm.
Just in case, he asked his new manager hyung. “Seen all these?”
“Me? Pretty much.”
“Recommend some? Too many.”
“Ah, sure sure.”
Moo-young watched eagerly. He rummaged and pulled five binders.
“These seemed solid to me.”
Whoa.
Those scripts in his hands—pollen fluttering!
Keen eye.
Those sparkles had reason. Moo-young took them all, satisfied. Flipped casually through.
Synopsis on the first page.
“Me—”
Pausing dramatically, Moo-young pointed to a title.
“I'll do this one.”
Plague
Go Kyung-min nodded nonchalantly inside. Title didn't grab, but read a bit and you knew.
Eye for talent.
Rare gem of a script these days.