Episode 93: Advertising Fees
S Network Editing Room. A massive screen dominated the space, with three smaller ones clustered tightly beneath it. PD Lee Yu-jin furrowed her brow and let out a deep sigh.
“Still at it?”
“Yeah. Hang on, check this out.”
“Haha, what the hell is this?”
One shot from the main camera straight on. Two from the camera team’s handheld sweeps left and right. And a bunch more from staff cell phones. It was a chaotic mishmash of footage with wildly varying quality.
“How the hell are we supposed to work with this?”
“Right? Sigh. I must be crazy. Should’ve just shot it separately.”
Her fellow PD sipped his coffee and fiddled with the clips, scrolling this way and that. Footage with mismatched quality, color, and framing. He stuck out his tongue and glanced at Lee Yu-jin.
“You snagged No. 1 in your time slot, so just power through an all-nighter and spit it out.”
“I’ve been here 19 hours straight.”
“Oof, didn’t realize.”
No matter how she tweaked it, it just wouldn’t smooth out. She irritably hammered the Enter key pointlessly. Her colleague ventured carefully.
“Why not run the main camera straight through, then collage the rest one by one?”
“This isn’t your project—”
“No, seriously. You know that variety show where they busk in Europe? Grab the front and sides like that... and toss in straight cams here and there. Yeah, this works.”
Tap tap tap! He gulped his coffee and roughly spliced clips, explaining his mental image to Lee Yu-jin.
“The textures don’t match. You think it’ll be okay?”
“That’s why you use multiple collages.”
“Ah, I get it. But—”
“But what?”
“It doesn’t feel like a drama.”
It was an editing style you’d see in music shows or variety. Could they pull that off in a drama? It felt like a gamble no matter how she spun it.
“Then reshoot it.”
“You say that like it’s easy.”
“It’s not ‘not feeling like a drama’ that’s the issue—it’s the ‘shoddy technique.’ Who cares if it looks good?”
She turned at his words. Why’s this guy dropping nothing but wisdom today? He just twitched an eyebrow under her gaze and grinned confidently.
“If it flops, I’ll take your spot.”
“Yeah, get lost. Scram!”
“Aigoo, just kidding, you shrew.”
She gave him a light kick, shooing him out of the editing room. But hearing a fresh take really opened her eyes. She shoved the unsatisfactory footage aside and rolled up her sleeves again.
“Fine. It’s my project—I’ll do it my way. What’re they gonna do about it? Huh?”
She muttered it like a self-hypnosis chant. Worst case, she’d write up a nice apology letter. She jotted down the new directing format popping into her head on a notepad.
* * *
“No word from the PD?”
“Huh? PD Lee Yu-jin? Why?”
In the Big Win Enter office, Ha Moo-young, Na Geum-dong, and Go Kyung-min slurped ramen together. A rare free night after ages.
Thanks to that, their first group monitoring session.
“Dunno. She wanted feedback after tonight’s episode airs, but no reply.”
“She’s probably swamped. Eat your ramen before it gets cold.”
“Oh? It’s starting.”
Moo-young slurped his noodles and fixed his eyes on the screen. The words You Are a Star, I Am a Star Episode 9 appeared.
It’d been over a month since he’d caught the live broadcast!
“Ooh, finally.”
Finally chilling to watch it like this! He already knew the story, but the edited version felt fresh and fun. Seeing his own face on TV felt weird and surreal.
“Man, it was freezing that day.”
“Tell me about it. The wind was insane, so we couldn’t launch the heli-cam. Would’ve looked even cooler. Oh, they edited this part like that?”
“Not bad. Gotta hand it to the camera director.”
“Hyung! Remember shooting that? We got lost—!”
Moo-young didn’t realize it. His perspective on the drama had shifted to that of an ‘actor,’ unlike before. He used to watch as a viewer, chasing pure fun. Now he analyzed, nitpicked, and dredged up memories.
“But it’s not that different from usual—”
Why the sudden monitoring request? As Moo-young tilted his head and scooped the last bite of ramen, the Hongdae Street busking scene hit.
“Huh?”
“What the?”
Go Kyung-min and Na Geum-dong froze too. A long take of the band playing and singing, interspersed with delighted audience faces.
“Ah, that’s why?”
“Scared me. Thought it switched to a music show.”
“Not bad, though? They’re all ex-idols, so they know how to work the camera. Or did they just cut to the good bits?”
“They look like real musicians. Right?”
Moo-young bobbed his head unconsciously at the screen. It stuck out tonally, sure, but that gave it impact.
“They gave it a ton of time too.”
Nearly a full act’s worth. The main members’ shots barely cut, preserving the raw live vibe.
Well, it was real busking.
Go Kyung-min chuckled and handed Moo-young his phone.
“Now I get why the PD wanted a ping. Text her. Say it was great, no worries.”
“Worries? About what?”
“Trying something that bold in a drama? Especially at No. 1? Nerve-wracking.”
“Ah, got it. Okay then...”
Moo-young texted the PD, then habitually hit the portal site. He scrolled idly to close it—then his name jumped out.
“What’s this now?”
“What’s up?”
Go Kyung-min peeked over, peering at the phone.
“Great Challenge aired two days ago. Barely any buzz then?”
Just mild interest in a rising rookie actor. Ratings were meh compared to past shows. No big ripple, just promo value.
“Why’s it suddenly No. 1 in today’s news?”
“Dunno. Click it. Title’s solid.”
It was the entertainment section, ranked by views and recs. The top spot: Moo-young clicked and groaned.
“Aigoo.”
A huge photo of Kim So-woon beaming in his interview from the broadcast.
‘I really went all out solving it. But losing was a bummer. Family’s tight on cash, needed money ASAP. On the way back, Moo-young hyung called me over. He handed me an envelope, said it was money I’d borrowed from his grandma. But it was way too much. Our grandma didn’t have that kind of cash. She rarely even had a 10,000-won bill in her pocket. Asked grandpa—he didn’t know about it either. Plus, online says Moo-young hyung’s a Seoul native, but we just moved from Changwon.’
So-woon had traced the money’s source. The grandma bit was a lucky coincidence; it wasn’t repayment—it was a gift.
“That kid from the show?”
“...Should’ve sold the lie with more conviction.”
“What’s wrong? He’s grateful. Look: ‘Thanks to Moo-young hyung, this winter’ll be warm! Thank you!’ Kid’s got manners.”
Ugh. But no need for this media splash. Moo-young scratched his flushed neck awkwardly.
Embarrassing, so embarrassing!
—Meanwhile, Ha Moo-young, currently attending Seoyeondae University, scored 92 on the SAT math section, flaunting his brain-sex male charms. Starring as Im Do-ha in S Network’s ongoing You Are a Star, I Am a Star, he delivers flawless acting in his debut lead role. This rising star combines heartthrob looks with warm generosity. Kim So-woon wished him continued success.—
“Talk about the reporter’s bias dripping everywhere?”
“Right? Puhaha! Moo-young-ah, reporter’s your fan. Hey, Manager Go, you meet her behind my back?”
“That’s my line. You didn’t set the boss up?”
7,000 recs on the affection-packed article. Top-five entertainment buzz. No comments shown, but it screamed Moo-young’s heat.
“Where’s this from? Gotta note the paper and reporter. Send a thank-you gift.”
Na Geum-dong jotted down the outlet and byline. Moo-young, still flustered and sheepish.
“Why’d the kid do an interview? Could’ve just told me.”
“How? You got his contact?”
“Oh, right. Call the office.”
Go Kyung-min eyed Na Geum-dong’s desk. The phone cord was unplugged—flooded with fan calls and trolls, off-hours it stayed dead.
“Earn big, do more good.”
“Obviously.”
Surviving on intangible work? All thanks to fans and public eyes. Give back after reaping—that’s just right!
Moo-young rubbed his head on the sofa bashfully.
“Agh, whatever. SNS’ll be flooded with fan comments like crazy. For real.”
“Whoa? Smiling already? Ha Moo-young?”
“Loving it! Totally!”
Moo-young laughed playfully. Meanwhile, end credits rolled on TV—the drama wrapped.
“PD still quiet?”
“Yeah. She’ll hit us up soon. Whatever.”
He flopped onto the sofa. A milestone post-Episode 9: You Are a Star, I Am a Star surged past its time-slot rival to No. 3 daily, 16.9%—beating the steadfast 9 PM news.
“Ha Moo-young doesn’t do ads?”
“Rumor says no gigs yet.”
“Why? Strike while the iron’s hot.”
“Dunno. How much water needs to flow?”
“Put him in our new snack model?”
That hour, ad agency staff brainstorming late into the night chatted idly.
“Kid’s a total blank—no data.”
“What fee?”
“Ha Moo-young’s the hottest right now, no?”
The team lead rifled papers.
“Yeah? Debut film with Director Jeong Jeong-mun blew up, drama’s first lead but owning No. 1. Clean image, no scandals.”
“His MiTube clips alone hit 20 million cumulative views.”
“Lemme crunch numbers.”
Model fees factored fame, likability, future potential, brand fit.
“No word on upcoming projects?”
“Nope. Gotta contact the agency.”
“Similar case before. Who was it?”
“Joo Yoon? Big response. Back-to-back movie hits. Probably 4 mil for 6 months, 8 for a year.”
Over a decade ago. Few exploded out the gate like that. Plague his official debut, right? He spun his pen, nodding.
“That sounds fair for him. Reach out to the agency first.”