A War Over Ratings and Pride
(PD Yoo, Writer Min)
PD Yoo and Writer Min were watching the premiere episode of their drama together. Some directors do insist on screening the first broadcast alongside their cast, but that had never been PD Yoo's style — and with not one but two idols in the leading roles, there were enough nerves to go around already. So the two of them had decided to watch quietly, just the pair of them.
Still, this little gathering wasn't purely about enjoying the show, and both of them stared at the television with visibly tense expressions.
"...God. We actually went and did it. We really did it."
"...We sure did. We went and did it."
Just before the episode drew to a close, when Elder Yoon appeared on screen and radiated that overwhelming presence, the two of them let out a sigh that was equal parts despair and admiration.
After all, there was no turning back now.
"Still, the footage came out gorgeous, didn't it?"
"It did. Your cinematography is always killer, PD Yoo."
"Hey, Writer Min. You're the one who pushed for this — why do you look like someone died?"
"I could ask you the same thing. Why do you look like that?"
Clicking his tongue at Writer Min's dazed response, PD Yoo shook his head and started chiding her. Because at the end of the day, the whole mess was her fault to begin with.
He'd had a hand in it too, sure — but no matter how you sliced it, this had all started with Writer Min.
"If you were going to fold, you should've just taken SD's offer."
"Oh, please. Those bastards infuriate me. I can tolerate a lot, but the moment they start touching my characters? Unforgivable!"
"That's the spirit. What's done is done, so let's push forward with some guts. Honestly, is any of this even our fault? Like you said, they picked the fight first."
Here's how it all began.
Out of nowhere, an unexpected topic had been trickling through internet communities these past few days. Fans were voicing their deep displeasure that Seo-eun and Rion — idols at the very peak of popularity — would be carrying a romantic storyline within the drama, even if only in fiction.
For Writer Min, who had already mapped out Seo-eun and Rion's entire romance arc, it was a bolt from the blue.
PD Yoo had worked with idols many times before, but this was a first. Typically, an idol trying their hand at acting fell into one of two categories: a group on the verge of collapse desperately searching for a Plan B, or a veteran with enough years logged to start preparing for life after disbandment.
And in those cases, fans almost always wholeheartedly supported the acting careers. The prevailing mindset was secure your future first — romance or anything else can wait.
But these two idols had landed lead roles while their groups sat comfortably at the height of their popularity, and the situation seemed to be a little different. With plenty of active years still ahead of them on stage, the fans' reactions were decidedly less forgiving.
Everyone knew hardcore idol fans absolutely despised seeing their idols romantically linked with members of the opposite sex — but nobody had expected that standard to be applied to acting of all things.
Strictly speaking, the only precedents were Ji Seo-eun and Rion, and this was the first time the two of them had ever co-starred as leads in the same drama, so PD Yoo had no way of seeing this disaster coming.
Had the complaints stayed at a manageable level, they would have simply ignored them. Griping about a production from the outside was a fairly common occurrence, after all.
But this was not something they could wave off.
The fandoms of Ji Seo-eun and Rion — that is, Ash Bloom and Nuclear — were absolutely colossal. Worse, both were among the most tightly organized fandoms in the industry, and if they ever truly mobilized, the fallout would be impossible to predict.
With the overwhelming majority swearing they would never sit quietly if a romance storyline aired, and online buzz already at unmanageable levels, even a woman of Writer Min's iron nerve couldn't help but fret over it.
After a period of agonizing, Writer Min ultimately decided to cut the romance entirely. Romance was undoubtedly the beating heart of Korean dramas — but for a show leaning closer to genre fiction, excising the romance and pressing on was entirely viable.
Besides, casting top-tier idols in the leads hadn't been purely about coveting their acting chops. Their fandoms were meant to be pulled in as viewers, too.
With ratings on the line, she concluded that extending that much courtesy to the fans was a fair trade.
Truthfully, up to that point, there was no real problem. Cutting the romance had left some breathing room in the story, but that gap could be filled easily enough with other plot threads.
The atmosphere only started curdling when another supporting player — Jo Yooshin — began coveting that vacated romance slot.
And Jo Yooshin's campaign wasn't confined to polite requests, either. He belonged to SD Entertainment, the drama's core investor, and the agency itself began applying quiet pressure, souring Writer Min's mood further by the day.
Convinced this could not stand, PD Yoo went so far as to convene a meeting of all the parties involved in search of common ground. Jo Yooshin and SD on one side, Writer Min and PD Yoo on the other — everyone gathered and went through several rounds of negotiation.
But with neither side conceding a single inch, the talks collapsed without reaching any agreement.
Writer Min had no confidence in crafting a romance between Jo Yooshin and the female lead, while SD's camp insisted she could simply build the storyline around Rion instead.
The character Writer Min had designed for Jo Yooshin was a scummy, single-minded lunatic — a total psycho written that way on purpose — and five episodes had already been filmed on that foundation. To drift the character into a romance line now would demand an unavoidable personality overhaul, and for a writer like Min, who wrote by the grace of inspiration, that was not something to be done lightly.
But going SD's route and writing around Rion wasn't an option either — the two characters' personalities were far too incompatible, and the retrofit would shatter the established setting outright.
For a writer responsible for a show's success, that was the one thing that absolutely had to be prevented.
Then SD dangled their investment money to goad Writer Min's professional pride, and the situation spiraled. They even leveraged their status as a major agency-cum-investor to whisper in the ears of the CP and the network's upper brass, needling PD Yoo as well.
PD Yoo was by nature an oily, agreeable man — but the one thing he could never tolerate was interference with his work. He dug in, what little goodwill remained evaporated entirely, and things barreled straight into open hostilities.
And the result of all that was today's ending scene.
The premiere's closing shot — a scene that should have belonged to Jo Yooshin — had been seized out of nowhere by Baek Si-woo. This was Writer Min and PD Yoo's declaration of war aimed squarely at SD: keep pestering us with your investment money, and we'll cut Jo Yooshin from the show entirely.
"Right. So — the ratings? What were they? We can't decide our next move until we know."
"The ratings... huh?"
"What is it?"
"...We did it. 12.6."
"We broke ten percent on the premiere?"
"Broke it? Twelve percent, baby. Writer Min, my dear — go do whatever the hell you want now!"
Trouble had been stirred, and Writer Min had been quietly dreading the consequences — but the news that they'd cracked double digits from episode one sent her clasping both hands and whooping with joy.
In this industry, ratings were king, and numbers like these meant that investors and everyone else could go whistle at her door.
Which naturally meant Jo Yooshin, who'd been strutting around on the strength of his agency's backing, suddenly found himself with no grounds left to object.
"So. What's the plan now?"
"The plan? We go with the story I've had in my head all along. That's exactly why Elder Yoon took the premiere's ending."
"Wait, that was the plan? I honestly thought you just wanted to shove Jo Yooshin's face in it."
"Do I look stupid to you? I would never do anything that reckless."
"You were the one who escalated this into an investor showdown over a role in the first pl— ...ah, fine, fine. Stop glaring at me. But if this goes through, won't our Si-woo be thrown off balance?"
"You're the one who said it, PD Yoo — no actor alive hates getting more screen time. If anything, he'll probably be thrilled."
"That may be, but... let's call Si-woo in and talk first. He needs time to prepare, after all."
With the unimpeachable weapon of the ratings now in hand, Writer Min was free to mold the script however she pleased.
And the outcome was this: the empty space left behind by the two idols' vanished romance would now be claimed by Elder Yoon — a supporting character who had been barely more than an extra.
The battle of egos and livelihoods fought far beyond Baek Si-woo's knowledge had, in the end, ended in a fisherman's windfall for him.
Though, of course, it was an opportunity he never would have earned had his performance not been good enough to win Writer Min over in the first place.
The day after episode two aired, I got a summons from the PD.
There were a few important changes to discuss, he said — and I was to come by Writer Min's workspace, quietly, without fanfare.
This would be about that infamous ending scene, wouldn't it?
I had plenty of questions of my own, so I set off without a word of complaint.
"A drama that's going to succeed really does succeed, huh. The response has been incredible."
With episodes one and two now on the air, every drama- and broadcast-related community was still buzzing about Genius Copywriter Yoon Seo-eun.
The reactions were overwhelmingly positive — praise for the leads' chemistry, applause for how tightly the story moved. Some viewers complained that the depiction of toxic office culture was almost too real to watch, but honestly, that's just praise wearing a different coat.
Ratings had cleared twelve percent from the very first episode. The mood was undeniably good.
"But what left the deepest impression, I'd say, was Cheon Yoo-ah's appearance. A mere cameo, and she does that... honestly."
And Cheon Yoo-ah's cameo — her return to acting after a full year away — had turned the communities completely upside down. It was big news.
They were all calling it the return of the goddess. Talk about a spectacle.
It was one of those moments that reminded me, all over again, that this woman was the genuine article — a true superstar.
"Ah, Si-woo's here."
"Yes, PD-nim. And good to see you too, Writer-nim."
"Good to see you, Si-woo. Come on in, quickly."
Perhaps thanks to the ratings, both of them were in high spirits.
Well, that tracked — on-set feuds in drama production almost always stemmed from ratings, one way or another. When the numbers are good, even the deepest grudges tend to quietly settle.
"Alright, let's get right down to business. Si-woo, we need to expand your screen time."
"Ah... yes?"
Getting straight to business was fine and all, but she'd skipped about ten steps in the middle.
No, seriously — someone ought to explain what changed and how, shouldn't they?
Okay, Mr. Director. Let's hear what's going on here.
I kept shooting meaningful glances at PD Yoo, silently demanding an explanation, and only then did he finally start filling me in.
Good lord. So the investor — the major agency — had thrown down with the PD and the writer over my role?
And in response, they'd yanked that actor's entire ending scene and handed it to me?
The footage looked great and the reception was warm, so I'd assumed everything was smooth sailing. Little did I know a blood-soaked war had been raging behind the scenes.
It was a far more insane situation than I'd imagined — a fresh reminder that this industry was no pushover either.