Netflix's Proposal
"Hoo-ha! Hoo-ha!"
The set was business as usual. Except this time, it wasn't an outdoor shoot—it was in the studio. The small room, dressed up as a clubroom, was crammed with drums, guitars, and a piano.
"What's up with him?"
"Leave him be. Moo-young's been like that since earlier. He says it's because the drama's premiere is tonight and the movie's been out for a week now."
"Ah, got it. Makes sense."
The staff chuckled as they hauled props around. Tonight marked a week since the movie's release, when overall box office numbers started coming in, and at 11 p.m., the drama would finally air its first episode.
Moo-young clasped his hands together and began to pray. 'Please, please let the numbers be good.'
The production company had promised to notify them as soon as the audience counts were tallied, but there was still no word. His agency wasn't sending stats either, so no articles had popped up. It was frustrating—so frustrating!
"Moo-young, what if your wish doesn't come true?"
"Can't be helped."
His dream had been to snap photos in front of the TV at premiere time: one shot with chicken in hand, one during the ad break, one when the logo appeared at the start, and another mid-episode.
"I'll watch on my laptop instead. Hehe."
"The world's come a long way. Right?"
"Yeah. Back in my day, you had to have a TV."
Ignoring the staff's chatter, Moo-young crouched down and fired up his laptop. He logged into S Network's homepage and waited for the time to tick down. He dipped into SNS to read fan comments.
Refreshing the comments every time he checked was endlessly entertaining. Online buzz was positive, at least.
"Moo-young?"
"Yeah?"
Go Kyung-min, who'd stepped out for a call, beckoned him. Wondering what was up, Moo-young followed curiously. Kyung-min seemed fidgety, excited maybe, but definitely had news to share.
"What's going on, hyung?"
"I've got three pieces: one decently good, one disappointing, and one amazing. Which first?"
"Sounds like a quiz. Haha. In order, I guess."
First, the decently good news. Kyung-min checked the empty hallway and whispered.
"Plague reclaimed Box Office #1 with a cumulative 2.11 million viewers."
"No way! Jackpot!"
After opening strong, it had traded the top spot back and forth with Wrinkled Life in a brutal tug-of-war. Now it had snatched victory back.
"Projections say it'll hit the late 4 millions, clearing break-even nicely—from the data they sent."
"Awesome! No flop is a win!"
He meant it. For a debut film, avoiding losses was huge. Moo-young shook his head in solo awe.
"Next news?"
"It might drop from theaters sooner than expected."
"Huh? Why? Reactions are great."
It'd only been a week—why pull it now? Kyung-min closed his eyes solemnly at Moo-young's serious question.
"Pfft—"
"...?"
The leaked chuckle was unavoidable. Moo-young stared blankly, then caught on.
"That ties into the amazing news?"
"Ahem. Yep. Haha!"
"What is it? Spill!"
"You know Netflix?"
Netflix? Of course—the world's top streaming giant. Started in the US, over 100 million subs globally, the ultimate OTT platform. Moo-young hadn't actually used it, but still.
"They're buying overseas distribution rights."
"What?"
"Exclusive second-run—no domestic VOD. Straight to Netflix for worldwide release."
A bet that it'd hit bigger abroad. In Korea, Plague would only be on Netflix—no portals, movie channels, or IPTV.
"So they're handling streaming and international distribution."
"Sweet, right?"
"Totally."
It'd premiere on Netflix abroad instead of theaters. Catch: streaming means no extra revenue from views, no matter how high.
"That's why there's a guarantee fee."
"How much?"
He flashed five fingers.
"...500 million won?"
"Idiot. 5 billion!"
"Gasp! Insane!"
The number didn't even compute. Moo-young clapped slowly in shock.
"Still negotiating, but it'll land around there. Good we rushed the release. Otherwise, no way they'd pay this."
If they'd stuck to mid-February as planned, it'd likely have gotten Berlin Fest invites. Simultaneous global release? Already "distributed" abroad—no Netflix deal like this.
"But aren't they overpaying?"
"Why worry? They're not dummies—they crunched the numbers."
Not a giveaway, though. In a booming VOD market, they were skipping that revenue. Especially for a teen-restricted film like Plague—IPTV would've been lucrative...
Perfectly balanced amount, really.
"Wow. Great anyway."
Korean theaters unchanged, Netflix for overseas—guarantee fee ka-ching! Early theater pull made sense.
'Longer theatrical run hurts streaming.'
"And it'll count as overseas revenue."
Moo-young blinked, smiling. Huh?
"Your running guarantee drops."
"...How much...?"
Standard: ~250 won per ticket for actors on 12,000-won seats. 5 billion? Roughly 100 million split. But Moo-young was supporting newbie—terms differed.
"2.5 million."
"Fucking insane!"
Compared to his few-hundred-thousand fee, nearly tenfold. Moo-young clasped hands, stomping in prayer.
"Woooah—thank you!"
"That good?"
"I'm printing money lately! Crazy! Sniff. Gonna be rich. Wait—no, I am rich!"
Bam! He punched the air, overflowing with joy. Kyung-min laughed, playing along. Pure gratitude, no regrets—refreshing to see.
"As a rookie, use this as a launchpad. Okay?"
"Duh!"
"Where'd you pick that up?"
"Jun-ho. Hehehe."
Rookies don't chase fees—they build fame for future guarantees and ads.
"Huge win, Moo-young. Congrats."
"Thanks!"
Netflix deal means Plague viewers exploding worldwide—Moo-young's face going global too.
"Moo-young-ssi! Ha Moo-young-ssi!"
"Yes! Here!"
"Standby time."
A staffer peeked in. Moo-young bolted over. Clock read nearing 11 p.m.
"How many minutes till standby?"
"About five."
"Ah. Can I snap premiere pics then...?"
The AD smirked at his aegyo. Lead actor asking? Fine.
"Go for it."
"Thank you! Everyone, come here! Premiere time!"
Moo-young rallied the thrilled crowd: waiting Song A, Pyo Rai, staff—all huddled.
"Wow, live like this now."
"Can't see. Scoot forward?"
"Ooh—it's starting!"
"Still blocked... sniff."
Crowded around the tiny laptop for the premiere. Ads ended; You Are a Star, I Am a Star logo rose.
"Hyung! Pic! Pic!"
"Hurry, group up!"
"Whoa!"
Grinning around the screen: Moo-young, team, staff. Their own work, yet bittersweet without TV. Live viewer comments scrolled below.
20,000 concurrent viewers—not bad for a premiere. Moo-young didn't notice. He posted a quick comment and photo.
SNS proof shots too—bam bam! They watched the early first episode together. Familiar script, but edited? Felt fresh.
Clap clap! The AD dispersed them at 11 p.m.—premiere time, sure, but late night too.
"Alright! Enough! Back to shooting!"
"Yes!"
"We'll miss the full ep at this rate. Scripts ready? Song A and Rai makeup done?"
"Baby writer says an hour."
"Aigoo. Okay! Standby!"
Everyone to posts at the booming call. Moo-young centered in set, laser-focused. Syncing with Song A, Rai, Ro Min—more intense than usual.
"One more take!"
"Yes!"
Heat lingered past midnight. So immersed, no one checked phones.
Post-premiere OST drop sparked chaos. Plus curiosity for Plague's breakout rookie, Ha Moo-young.
"Ratings out?"
"Tallying..."
"Phew."
"Why so tense?"
Meanwhile, PD Lee Yu-jin gnawed her fingers, awaiting aggregate ratings. The network night buzzed bright.
Finally, numbers dropped as she paced.
"#2 in time slot. Average 9%."
"9%? For real?"
"Yeah. Feels good?"
"...No kidding."
Rare for a late-night drama premiere. PD Lee clenched her trembling fist, cheering inwardly.