Sua Realizes Something
"For instance, the role of Wi Ji-hye."
Sua's ploy to land the role of Wi Ji-hye was simple. Make them curious. She had no choice but to perform as Ha-ryeong, and she had only ten minutes in which to do it. Set the two constraints side by side, and the answer came easily enough: give the performance everything she had, then, near the end, leave a flicker of movement that looked like an ad-lib about to break loose, and dangle it the way one dangles a hook.
Of course, it was not as easy as it had sounded in her head. Ugh. No matter how many times I act tough, I still shake. All the more so in front of someone as fierce as Yang Ha-rin. She did it anyway. Words far harsher than anything she truly felt had to come out of her mouth, and now and then she even had to arrange her face into a calm she did not possess. So what? She was after a role with A-grade compatibility. A trembling heart could be endured for a little while.
And so she tried, murmuring to herself over and over some nonsense along the lines of you're going to be a wonderful actress, so don't be scared—and the effect, at any rate, was unmistakable. Hadn't Park Joon and Yang Ha-rin asked her for just five minutes more? Yes. Sua's scheme had landed.
Now I only have to wait for the answer.
She waited, calm, for their reply. The silence stretched longer than she had expected. Ha-rin and Park Joon did nothing but stare straight through her.
Only after a very long while did Park Joon speak.
"...Miss Sua, if I may ask—which agency are you with?"
"I don't have an agency."
"No agency? Ah. Right, of course. No credits, nothing at all.... But with skill like this? Why on earth?"
He was about to press further when a sharp voice cut in. Yang Ha-rin.
"I'll grant you this much. The acting was worth watching."
"No. She was the only one. The best of everyone who auditioned today."
Ha-rin had offered nothing more than a brief compliment, and yet Park Joon, seated beside her, looked thoroughly startled. A rare occurrence, it seemed.
Are they going to give me Wi Ji-hye as well? The thought had barely formed when—
"But."
Yang Ha-rin's voice went on, cold as hoarfrost.
"You're getting far too full of yourself. Why do you keep eyeing my place?"
"Pardon?"
"You won't stop provoking me. You don't know your place."
Provocation. Place. At that parade of sharp words, Sua understood at once. Ugh. That woman has gotten something badly wrong.
In truth, she had expected as much. Any actor would be desperate for a chance in front of a camera, and growing attached to a role one had already claimed was only natural. Ask as carefully as she might, it was never going to land exactly as she meant it. Sua knew perfectly well that her face and her manner of speaking struck people as sharp.
"What you were given is the role of Ha-ryeong. You ought to be grateful just to be let in as the maid—so why do you keep trying to play mistress of the house?"
Even so, hearing this much left a bad taste.
Come to think of it, I have no reason to grovel and cling. The short film Sword was Grade 2. It would make a solid line on her filmography, yes, but if the question was whether she had to debase herself and stake her life on winning it, then no. Right. If this was how things stood, there was no reason to push herself forward. She had already secured one Grade 1 in Special Task Force 808, and the beverage commercial she still had waiting was Grade 2 as well.
"I am never giving you the role of Wi Ji-hye. Understand that."
Ha-rin drove the nail in, and Park Joon stepped forward at once, his voice quite urgent—the tone of a man trying to put a fire out.
"This was, after all, a casting for the Ha-ryeong role, and Miss Ha-rin wanted the part of Wi Ji-hye so very badly...."
"I am absolutely not saying Miss Sua's acting wasn't excellent. I'll give serious thought to you for Ha-ryeong, so—"
"No, thank you."
Sua inclined her head, perfectly polite.
"The truth is, I only came with the role of Wi Ji-hye in mind."
It couldn't be helped. Ha-ryeong, with a compatibility of F, was no different from a poisoned chalice. Dangerous things were not to be touched. The moment she said that much, Park Joon's eyes went perfectly round—so round it seemed they might pop free and go rolling across the floor. He was probably afraid she meant to keep up a battle of nerves with Yang Ha-rin, so Sua added the rest a little faster.
"I understand the role of Wi Ji-hye already has a firm owner, and I think you were right, Director, that our chemistry wouldn't be good. I'd be grateful if you simply marked me as rejected."
It struck her, all over again, that the Special Task Force 808 production team were angels. The trouble there, of course, was that they thought far too well of her. Still, the weight of their expectations was a hundred times better than this unpleasantness.
"Miss Sua, wait—"
Park Joon's voice caught her once, at the back of the head. Sua decided to pretend she hadn't heard. Her mind was already made up.
Yang Ha-rin's agency, the CT Entertainment building. In the CEO's office—lavish, and far too large—an unexpected guest was currently seated. If one took an exceptionally fine crow and sculpted it into a man, the result might feel something like this: a presence black and refined. The CEO addressed the man who was slowly steeping the room in his own dignity.
"Kim Seonil. You're looking much better, I see. I caught the articles—Writer Lee Geumsuk's script has gone into production."
Kim Seonil took a quiet sip of tea and nodded. The handle of the cup, of course, had been wrapped once in a handkerchief before he held it.
"Even so. Am I meant to learn that Actor Kim has joined a project from the news? You might have called me first."
"I was busy."
"Cold as ever. Same as the day you left our agency."
The CEO smiled, not a trace of offense in it. They had once been family. Kim Seonil had debuted as a rookie under CT Entertainment, and he had remained so until he moved to the same agency as Seo Yeon-ju. These days the two of them had little reason to meet, and yet the reason he had come here was simple.
"Old ties are a comforting thing, though, aren't they? Actor Kim even promised a special appearance in a project I invested in."
"Old ties have nothing to do with it."
The project the CEO of CT Entertainment had backed was the short film Sword, and Kim Seonil had promised a special appearance in it.
"The script was decent. That was all."
He drew the line with absolute thoroughness. He never promised an appearance because personal feeling swayed him. He looked only for clean work, and Director Park Joon's script for Sword had simply happened to be quite good. The CEO went on smiling.
"A shame, though. I don't think Actor Kim will actually end up making that appearance."
"What do you mean."
"A call came in just now, as it happens. Seems the film is going to be scrapped outright. I put up the money, I placed Ha-rin in it, I even locked down Actor Kim's special appearance, and still..."
"So it came to that."
Kim Seonil nodded as if he had expected as much. He had heard Director Park's announcement of retirement with his own ears. He had thought the script too good to throw away and decided to lend his support, but it would hardly be strange if Park Joon scrapped the thing regardless.
"Then I'll leave the moment I finish this."
"Since you've come all this way, won't you at least see Ha-rin's face? You know how she is. Ha-rin is terribly fond of Actor Kim."
"I don't have time to waste."
Bang—!
Two people came through the door before Kim Seonil could leave it. Park Joon and Yang Ha-rin had finished the auditions and returned, and the CEO greeted them first.
"Back already? Those faces aren't good, I see."
"What rotten luck."
Ha-rin muttered it, irritable, and threw herself onto the leather sofa in the same breath, the cushions swallowing her whole.
"Ha-rin. No need to rush. Sitting this one out won't even show. You're still the strongest candidate for the Rookie Award."
"That's got nothing to do with why I'm annoyed.... Huh? Seonil oppa?"
She paid the CEO's words no mind at all. Something else had stolen her attention, and the irritable face smoothed out at remarkable speed.
"Seonil oppa, what brings you here?"
"What."
"I'm glad to see you, that's all. Have you been well? I've been working hard lately. I'm aiming for the Rookie Award, just like you did back then, oppa."
"Yeah."
It was understandable. The actor Ha-rin liked best in the world was Kim Seonil. Kim Seonil, for his part, had little interest in her—strictly speaking, it was closer to dislike.
The way she feeds on other people. It looked similar to his own method, and it was nothing like it. Heaven and earth. Where he pursued the perfection of the work, Ha-rin pursued only her own: tear the project to shreds, and so long as the light fell on her alone, she would not care. She was his exact opposite. For a work he meant to make perfect, Kim Seonil could do anything. Even if that meant going to his knees.
The CEO shook his head.
"Hopeless. One look at Actor Kim and she loses her mind entirely. Director Park, did you know? Actor Kim promised a special appearance in your short film. Says the script is rather good."
"...Really?"
Ha-rin's voice rose.
"Ah, then we should have pushed it through somehow...!"
"Didn't you say there was no real talent among the people who auditioned? What can you do."
Park Joon slipped in, careful.
"In truth, it wasn't that there was no talent at all. One of them stood out rather strikingly."
"Oh? Then why did you scrap it?"
The CEO looked interested. Ha-rin's face crumpled at once.
"Ah, Director Park. Don't even bring up that weird bitch. Lee Sua, or whatever her name is—she's nothing but bad luck."
Kim Seonil, halfway to collecting his coat, went utterly still. He held every motion and turned the name over for a moment, wondering whether it was merely someone else who happened to share it. In the end he spoke. The curiosity was too great.
"You. What did you just say."
"Oh, it's nothing even you need to worry about, oppa. It's no big deal. Sleep on it, and you'll have forgotten by morning."
"Not that. The name you just said."
"The name? You mean the name? I said Lee Sua...."
Lee Sua. So he had heard correctly. Kim Seonil drew his brows together.
"Why? Do you know her too, oppa?"
He didn't bother to answer. He only thought. Lee Sua—why had that one gone to an audition? It wasn't actually strange. She was a rookie; wearing out her shoes for the sake of a filmography was only natural. There was just one thing that gave him pause.
It means she recognized the script I had my eye on. So even her eye sits a level above.
Kim Seonil was the man fans called admirable for bringing home only good scripts, and Lee Sua had chosen the very script he had chosen. Yes. Her eye was exceptional. Of that much he was certain.
"So. What did Lee Sua do."
Ha-rin was only too glad to part her lips. Kim Seonil addressing her was a rare thing indeed.
"She just acted, I suppose. It was an audition."
"Ha."
Even that much was enough. The corner of his mouth lifted, and he nodded; he could already picture what Yang Ha-rin and Director Park had witnessed. She must have shown them something remarkable. Struck them square across the back of the head. His gaze turned to the director.
"Director Park. How was she."
"I don't know how to put it into words...."
"She became the role itself, I imagine."
"That's right. There wasn't a single thing to fault. If anything, I caught myself thinking, ah, yes, so that was the sort of character this was—and having to turn it over again in my own mind."
"Acting she picked up as a hobby. And it's at that level."
"What? Oh, come now, don't joke. No, wait. Kim Seonil isn't an actor who jokes. Huh? More than that—an acquaintance of yours...?"
While Director Park short-circuited, Kim Seonil asked another question.
"If Lee Sua had joined, there would have been no reason to scrap this film."
"Ah, well, about that...."
Director Park scratched at his head.
"Miss Sua asked for a different role, but that one was already a part Miss Ha-rin had claimed. The chemistry between the two of them looked terribly poor as well."
"So it came to nothing."
"That's right."
This time his gaze went to Ha-rin.
"Why didn't you give up the role?"
"How am I supposed to hand a role to some raw rookie? I have my pride."
She answered as if the question itself were absurd.
"The rookie was arrogant. She doesn't know her place—not even a little. And acting at that level? I can do it whenever I want."
"So you simply sent her away."
"Of course. I cut her off flat and told her no."
Listening, Kim Seonil let out a short breath of a laugh.
"True enough. Someone here really doesn't know their place."
"Right? She should have been grateful just to be stuck on as a supporting role."
"No."
He severed the sentence, utterly firm.
"I'm talking to you."
It was then that the man's eyes and Yang Ha-rin's met in the empty air between them. She tilted her head, just slightly, as if she could not believe what she had heard. Kim Seonil's gaze was perfectly clear.