An Unexpected Invitation from Hollywood
Woojin stepped into the company, and Flower Entertainment instantly buzzed with excitement. Every face he passed wore the same expression of peak curiosity: What on earth happened?
Suddenly thrust before the wide-eyed stares of his agency's staff gathered in the large conference room, he had to spill the details of his two months in London as if giving a full presentation.
"Um, it wasn't anything as grand as you might think..."
He recounted how a chance encounter with a little boy named William had blossomed into a chain of fateful connections. And the stories of the young dreamers he'd met, hustling on the streets to create an ensemble born of pure grit.
"...It's a story that could make a movie."
"Right? It felt like listening to a radio drama. A youth drama!"
At the words of Hong Young-joo from Management Team 1, the others nodded in agreement.
"And it ends with him stepping onto the West End stage! The curtain parts, the protagonist starts singing—boom, an open-ended finale!"
"If the camera catches his back silhouette, it'd have that total cool factor."
True to form for an entertainment agency. The conversation flowed seamlessly from "travelogue" to "potential project."
"Woojin, hold on a sec."
As Woojin wrapped up the tale everyone had been dying to hear, Kim Tae-gon whispered to him.
When Woojin followed, Lee Min-seong the deputy manager and Jun-an trailed behind.
"Let's head straight to the CEO's office."
"Ah, okay."
They made their way directly there.
*Knock knock.*
"Come in."
Lee Eun-cheol's deep, resonant voice came from beyond the door.
"CEO, long time no see."
Woojin smiled as he spoke. It had been nearly three years since joining the agency, but he hadn't had many one-on-one meetings with Lee Eun-cheol. They'd crossed paths casually during project prep visits, but sitting down like this for a proper talk was rare.
"How was the trip?"
"Great. I got plenty of rest."
"Good to hear. Watching you dive straight from one project to the next without a break had me worried. I was thrilled when you said you wanted a hiatus."
"The company's support makes it easy for me to focus. Thank you."
Friendly expressions and words were exchanged.
"Haha, have a seat first. Let's chat more."
Lee Eun-cheol gestured for Woojin to sit, and they faced each other.
"It feels like just yesterday we signed your contract right here in this room. Time flies, doesn't it?"
"Yes, sir."
"I still remember vividly what I said back then. I hoped Flower and you could create synergy and grow together."
"I remember too. And as you said, making great work with good people makes me happy."
"Hearing that reassures me we're fulfilling our role as your management."
"Thank you, sir. Looking forward to more."
"That's what we should be saying. Anyway, you must be tired jetting back and coming straight here, so let's cut to the chase."
Lee Eun-cheol straightened up abruptly. He gave a silent nod to Kim Tae-gon.
As if on cue, "What I'm about to share is known only to us here, the planning team leader, and the PR team leader."
Kim Tae-gon jumped right in.
What could this be about all of a sudden? Woojin alternated glances between Lee Eun-cheol and Kim Tae-gon, ears perked. Not just them—even Deputy Manager Lee Min-seong and Brother Jun-an wore mysteriously pleased expressions. Good news, probably... but what?
"Yesterday at 11 p.m. Korean time—10 a.m. U.S. time—we got an email. Checked it this morning. Haven't spoken yet since it's early morning there now..."
US?
"From the official contact listed on UTA's website."
"Content?"
"A contract offer. For Actor Woojin."
"What?!"
He'd never heard of 'UTA,' but the fact it was from the US had Woojin's eyes widening. What business would America have proposing a contract to a Korean actor? Obviously something project-related.
"From Hollywood's view, entertainment tied to Asian countries seems like blue ocean territory. We've seen articles about UTA expanding into Korea, China, and Japan lately."
UTA, United Talent Agency. Hollywood's powerhouse agency representing top actors, high-profile singers, directors, writers, broadcasters, and more across fields.
But it wasn't just an agency anymore—they'd successfully branched into film, TV, theater, publishing, you name it. And now, whispers of them quietly targeting Asian talent.
"First time we've gotten a proactive offer from the US, so we should talk to them first."
Truth be told, among Koreans with overseas agencies, directors outnumbered actors. Directors with domestic fame or even one festival entry often had US representation. Both fields were brutally tough, but directing was relatively easier for breakthroughs.
For Korean nationals—unless Asian-American raised in US culture—successful Hollywood actors were virtually nonexistent. Roles for East Asians were scarce, plus the language barrier.
Of course, those were surface issues. The real problem: Hollywood preached equality but harbored subtle discrimination.
Case in point—the uproar from US-born Asian-American actors. They protested getting 10-15% less pay than white actors for similar roles. It blew up, but ended with producers blackballing them.
With studies showing East Asian roles at a mere 5% in films and dramas, plus this invisible bias... Hollywood became "the dream for all actors—and a graveyard for East Asians."
Voices called for change, but deep-seated prejudice wouldn't vanish overnight.
In that context, a top US agency reaching out first was astonishing. Especially for Flower Entertainment, a leading Korean actor agency—this was unprecedented.
"We'll report back after speaking with them. That's the situation so far."
Kim Tae-gon wrapped up.
Woojin felt dazed hearing it secondhand. Lately, good news seemed to whirl by at breakneck speed from some point on.
Lee Eun-cheol continued. "Before you arrived, we had a little meeting. Honestly, we're puzzled. It's good news, but Hollywood's a double-edged sword."
"Yes."
"If we sign with UTA, headlines will explode. It'll generate buzz. But no project announcements after? It'll backfire worse than nothing. I can already see the media calling it hype."
His deep voice carried unusually sharp words. Woojin listened calmly.
Silence fell briefly.
"Ah, sorry. Did I come on too strong?"
"No, not at all. I was just sorting my thoughts as you spoke."
"Back when I was a road manager, I dealt with something similar. Didn't end well, so worry slipped out first."
Lee Eun-cheol quickly backpedaled.
"Once you've talked with UTA, I'll share my thoughts."
"Sounds good. We'll discuss in depth then. Kim, try for a call today."
"Got it, sir. Still, it's amazing."
"What is?"
"Where'd they spot Woojin to reach out? Probably that viral West End busking video..."
Lee Min-seong chimed in, tilting his head.
"Could be his works too. Plenty of reasons. We know his talent best, right?"
"True. They must have some confidence to contact us... We'll see after the call."
"Any guesses, Woojin?"
"Pardon?"
Woojin pondered Lee Eun-cheol's question. He got Kim Tae-gon's confusion. UTA suddenly scouting a Korean actor's filmography felt off-timing.
If they'd taken sudden interest, it had to be Lily's SNS clip or Anne's YouTube busking upload. But were party singing or street acting—worlds apart from screen work—enough?
"Nothing specific comes to..."
Woojin trailed off, tilting his head like Kim Tae-gon—then, "...Ah!"
Something flashed in his mind. He exclaimed sharply.
"Wait, no way?"
All eyes turned to him.
* * *
That evening, back home after ages, Woojin fired up his laptop.
*Tap tap tap.*
The keyboard clacked away.
He sent an email to someone, then unpacked. After a shower, he lounged on the sofa—
*Ding.*
About two hours later. The notification pinged on his open inbox.
The reply he'd been waiting for.
Lily Header
It was indeed the unbelievable source.
Forgive you? I'm grateful, Lily.
*Click.*
Woojin closed the laptop with a light heart, murmuring to himself.