I'll Make Sure I Don't Stand Out

Hhk...

Sua went rigid. The reality opening up in front of her was simply too much to believe.

"So... if I take what you just said at face value...?"

"Three million won an episode. How does that sound?"

Now then. Let's think about how things had come to this.

Actually, there was nothing to think about. She'd taken a call, shown up, and been handed an offer on the spot. They were going to cast her at three million won an episode—in a drama by writer Lee Geumsuk, no less. A drama that would air on television.

How was this happening? It was nothing like what she'd been told.

Expect nothing in return. That had been the advice of a working entertainment reporter, and Sua had long since set every last shred of greed aside.

What did I even make for a month as a kitchen assistant? No—what's there to compare? I made way less than this.

The figure already written down was three million. Stack another million on top of it, and she'd be pocketing four million won an episode. Terms so outrageous they had no precedent anywhere in the life she'd lived.

Sua quietly braced her chin on one hand and covered her mouth with it at the same time, hiding the corners of her lips, which would not stop climbing.

That was when the man across from her spoke. He was the production manager.

"It may look like a simple four million an episode, but the reality is different. You have to understand the potential of the Kim Yu-han role."

"Potential?"

"There's no fixed amount of screen time for Kim Yu-han, and no fixed number of shoot days, is there? Writer Lee is building the whole script from scratch."

He went on, fiddling with his mustache.

"If your Kim Yu-han is excellent, then the lines, the shooting volume, and the number of episodes you appear in will all grow on their own. And of course, so will the money you take home."

Sua nodded.

So I earn exactly as much as I'm worth.

Once, a structure like that would have been pure terror. To Sua as she was now, it was rather welcome. Put the Special Privilege together with actual effort, and it ought to turn out just fine.

Then, abruptly—

"...But is there enough money?"

What she meant was whether it was really all right to spend this much on a nobody like her. She'd done a little digging of her own. Pour too much of the budget into casting, people said, and the quality of everything else dropped...

The reaction was instant.

"Ha!"

"Hah!"

Writer Lee Geumsuk and the production manager, both at once.

"Did you hear that, Manager? Miss Sua is asking if she can go ahead and sweep up every last coin we've got."

"She is. A rookie just landed a clean hit on us."

"What kind of nonsense is that..."

"Miss Sua, it's fine."

The production manager nodded.

"If you perform at that level, the drama's profits will already be enormous. So it's good for us, too. Let's both come out ahead, and give this everything we've got."

"...Okay."

"Ah—and the terms of the contract are strictly confidential. There's such a thing as an industry standard. Plenty of people don't welcome exceptions, and your very existence is still a secret."

Sua only bobbed her head, a baby bird nodding along. They were going to pay her four million an episode. What part of that could possibly be difficult?

Even the signing sailed straight through. In truth, Sua's signature was a doodle of a rabbit's face, so to be safe she wrote nothing but her name.

The deal was sealed, and the production manager smiled.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Thank you. How do you feel?"

Sua thought for a moment. She chose her words, and chose them again, and arrived at something close to honest.

"...Good."

Afterward, Sua was dragged off to a barbecue house.

The pretext was a company dinner. Production on the drama, stalled all this time, was starting up again, so a celebration was only natural—or so they told her. Privately, Sua wondered whether packing the meat to go would be too shameless of her.

"...Agh."

The moment she arrived, though, she had to start by biting her own tongue.

She'd come ready to inhale meat like a vacuum cleaner, and the hunger vanished the instant her foot hit the ground. The sight in front of her was simply too overwhelming.

Wait. This is a barbecue place? Isn't this a historical-drama set?

The long outer wall alone was impressive, and the interior put even that to shame—a meticulously kept garden, a stately traditional hanok. All of it, tonight, belonged to the production team of Special Task Force 808.

Just then she felt someone approaching.

"You're Miss Sua, aren't you? Wow. You're even more impressive in person."

"...Who?"

"Ah, I'm serving as casting director."

A gaunt man, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

"Heh heh. I'm truly looking forward to seeing how you bring Kim Yu-han to life."

It was praise from one end to the other, and yet his expression kept twitching. Sua knew faces like that. The look of someone with a great deal they wanted to say, testing the water first.

"I think you have something to say to me."

"..."

The casting director's face said he'd been struck dead center. A moment later he sighed, as if conceding the point.

"...Your eye is sharp, Miss Sua. The truth is, watching the expressions in that room, the negotiation didn't look particularly smooth."

"It didn't?"

I came away from it perfectly satisfied, though?

"The manager's face was stiff as a board, I'll have you know. So I made up my mind to speak with you myself, inadequate as that may be."

"Mm."

"I don't know what figure you were hoping for. But I do ask for your understanding. I may not know much else, but I know this is the first time the production team has looked after a rookie this carefully."

Around there, Sua realized a very solid misunderstanding had taken root. The casting director had decided she was heartbroken, and come to soothe her.

"Relax. I'm happy with this."

"Pardon? The negotiation didn't go well, did it? You, and the production manager—your faces were so..."

"...I don't know about him. This is just how I look."

If anything, his words frightened her more.

Why did those two look so grim? Did I mess something up? Oh—because I took too much money? I'd better act my heart out...

She was sunk entirely in thoughts of that sort when he smiled and broke the silence first.

"I let my nerves run away with me, and I rambled. We had a hard enough time even getting production off the ground, so if we can help it, I'd like the mood to stay a happy one all the way through. For tonight, please enjoy the dinner to the fullest."

Gaunt and sharp-featured as he was, he came off surprisingly warm.

Then the dinner began in earnest.

Ugh. Am I even supposed to be somewhere like this...

Sure enough, the world of people with money did things differently from the very first step. Renting out a barbecue house this lavish in its entirety wasn't enough for them; they'd even set up a microphone. To Sua, it was another planet entirely. Astonishing—the restaurant, the situation, the atmosphere, all of it.

"Hello—!"

"We're in your care!"

"Special Task Force 808, let's go!"

Staff poured in on booming voices, and with them came Kim Seonil and Seo Yeon-ju, carrying themselves on an entirely different plane from everyone else. The restaurant, which had felt far too vast, filled in an instant.

Am I sitting here way too obviously, just staring into space?

Sua worried. What if she was swiveling her head around like a meerkat out on the savanna? She'd look like an idiot.

...Can't have that. I'm going to be a magnificent actor.

The solution she eventually landed on was to stare quietly at the grill, and at nothing else.

"..."

She stayed like that for a good long while before someone came over and spoke to her first. The production manager from earlier.

"This may be a burden on you, Miss Sua, but the production is moving on a tight schedule. We'll send the scripts along as soon as each one is finished."

"Okay."

"We're aiming to air this year, and the timeline is brutal, so we'll be charging ahead like a truck with the brakes cut. The one small mercy is that the staff is already fully assembled—"

Her ears hurt. Sua nodded.

"I understand perfectly."

She had not understood a single word. If you explain it like that, I don't get it. Just tell me what I have to do...

"You don't have a manager or a coordinator yet, so it may be a little rough, but that'll sort itself out once you have an agency. With your skill, the offers will be overflowing before long. And—"

"Wait. Wait."

In the end, Sua stopped him.

"...Just tell me what I have to do."

"Ha ha ha, all you have to do is act well!"

"..."

Hearing the conclusion only made it feel more hollow. He could have said that from the start. All of that, for something this simple...

...Or not? Maybe this really is my own stupidity?

That was when it happened.

An amplified voice rolled through the restaurant, pushed out through the speakers. It belonged to writer Lee Geumsuk. She had the microphone.

Clap, clap, clap. Applause spread through the room, slow at first.

Next was PD Choi Heewon.

He was considerably muscular himself. So this was the PD in charge of the drama? Honestly, the first impression had been rather frightening—tall, and built like a wall. Ambition and confidence as solid as the muscle itself. Sua felt both of those in what he'd said. Sturdy.

Then Seo Yeon-ju.

Next should have been Kim Seonil, but he didn't take the microphone. Something about not wanting to touch one that had already passed through other people's hands. Very much the germaphobe.

What she hadn't seen coming happened in the very next instant.

"...Nngh?"

The sound slipped out of Sua on its own. The microphone had been passed into her hands—and she seemed to be the only person who hadn't expected it. Everyone else was treating the whole thing as perfectly natural.

Murmurs rose on every side.

"That's the one... the one they cast as Kim Yu-han."

"That's a rookie? The presence on her..."

"That face is no joke."

Sua barely managed to hold her trembling body still. Her stomach felt profoundly unwell—unwell enough that she was grateful she hadn't eaten any of the meat yet.

Seo Yeon-ju came over and murmured at her ear.

"Sua, just say whatever you like. Shooting a drama means we're one family for as long as it lasts, you know. Talk like you're talking to family. Anything's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fine."

She even smiled, bright as anything.

Sua rolled her tongue around inside her mouth—the same tongue she'd bitten earlier, still sore—and hunted for words. What would be good to say?

...No. She's a rookie, so the line is already decided. I'll work hard even where I don't stand out. Something like that.

At last, her lips parted.

A brief silence.

"That... she definitely just..."

And PD Choi Heewon's reaction was only the beginning.

"She'll make sure nobody stands out but her?"

"Just how incredible a thing is she planning to show us?"

"Against Seo Yeon-ju and Kim Seonil? The nerve ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on her is no joke."

"...Interesting."

Reactions burst from every corner of the room, and among them, not a single one was the reaction Sua had actually intended.

Clap-clap-clap-clap—!

Applause crashed down like thunder.

"The rookie's got some spirit! I like it even better!"

"Let's all give it everything we've got!"

"Ha ha ha ha! This dinner's fun from the very start!"

For a moment, Sua felt strangely wronged.

"..."

Clap. Clap. Clap.

"Ha ha... ha ha ha..."

And then she was laughing too, and clapping along, because she had understood with perfect clarity that whatever she thought and whatever came out of her mouth, there was no defying a current this enormous.

...I don't know anymore. Enjoy it. Just enjoy it.

Time moved quickly after that.

Word that production on Special Task Force 808 had started up again spread at a sprint, and thanks to that, everyone lost their minds.

"Huh? I was getting ready for the Kim Yu-han audition."

"What—hey! Who snatched it?!"

Among the male actors, naturally, it was an enormous topic. The chance to put themselves in a collaboration between Writer Lee and PD Choi Heewon had flown off right before their eyes.

The reporters, of course, were no exception.

"Damn it! You lot can't even bring in one scoop like this? We got beat to it again! Aigoo, I swear this is driving me insane!"

The news of the restart was startling enough on its own, so it followed that the identity of the actor playing Kim Yu-han drew enormous interest.

"The Kim Yu-han role—can't we at least find out who the actor is and get the article out first? Any word coming in from anywhere?"

"Nothing at all. Seems like they're keeping it a total secret."

"Digging up secrets like that is your job, isn't it?! It's the Kim Yu-han role, so of course it's a top-tier actor! Start at the top and turn over every last stone!"

But there was no way for the information to leak. The drama's executives had hidden the identity of Kim Yu-han's actor completely, and the staff who hadn't attended the dinner had heard only that someone had been cast. They might have wanted to spread a rumor, but they didn't know anything worth spreading. Public curiosity, accordingly, swelled to twice its size.

And a question with no answer inevitably gives birth to guesses.

It got to the point where nearly every male actor of any note was dragged into the gossip. Only natural. The role of Kim Yu-han was, by default, a man.

Rookie reporter Kim Seona scrunched up her face.

"Ugh, my head... Kim Yu-han is a role that shot down plenty of perfectly good actors. Who on earth landed it?"

Kim Seona was starving for a scoop. In entertainment reporting, the more exclusives you hauled in, the better you were treated and the higher you climbed.

...But come on. Was that even possible? No matter how she turned it over, she couldn't so much as guess.

She let out a long sigh and tapped at her phone. Being an entertainment reporter was a truly exhausting job. For a rookie, even more so.

Even so, Seona was genuinely curious.

"The Kim Yu-han role—who is it? Who in the world...?"