Fresh Out of Prison
Woojin stepped out of the building and suddenly halted, turning to look back. His gaze fixed on the sign atop the structure.
[SJ ENT]
Even in the midwinter chill, the sunlight blazed fiercely. Squinting one eye, Woojin let out a wry chuckle under his breath.
"Feels like I'm fresh out of prison."
The agency building had once seemed like a launchpad to success. Every time he'd walked through those doors, a swell of pride had filled him. But now, it looked like nothing more than a jail that had caged him during the most crucial years of his acting career—his early to mid-twenties.
"I paid a steep tuition of three years and learned my lesson. I won't make the same mistake twice."
Mulling over his own words, Woojin started walking again.
"Just you wait."
Even after the SJ Entertainment building faded from view, he never glanced back. Woojin simply pressed forward.
Two days before Woojin returned to the past.
Even as lunchtime approached, the tvKR Drama Department was deep into a scheduling meeting. Seated at the long oval table were Jeong Seong-su, the tvKR Drama Department head, along with Park Min-jae, the chief PD, and other key staff.
"Finally, we should push Kim Soo-rim's next project to the second half of the year."
The main agenda of the meeting—scheduling for Kim Soo-rim's upcoming work—was underway.
"Why?"
Park PD added to Jeong's question, "Kim's side wants Yoo Tae-seok as the lead, but his agency just contacted us saying additional shoots came up suddenly, making schedule adjustments impossible."
Jeong's brow furrowed slightly at that.
Catching the cue, Park PD continued cautiously, "If we slot it for the August Mon-Tue slot and delay to the second half, casting and production should go smoothly. Kim said she'll use the time to refine the script and boost the quality..."
Thwack!
Jeong suddenly slammed the table. Park PD froze mid-sentence with a sharp intake of breath. Every eye in the room turned to the two men.
"You think it's okay for one writer's wishes to upend the entire drama department's schedule on a dime?"
Jeong's brow creased even deeper, a clear sign of his mounting irritation. Park PD could only sweat profusely, his face pitiful.
"Even for a star writer!"
Kim Soo-rim boasted eight works since her debut, none dipping below 20% ratings—a true heavyweight, the undisputed top drama writer in the country. She spanned genres from romance to historicals with brilliant writing and substance, sweeping script awards at every ceremony. Actors, networks, PDs—everyone clamored to work with her. To stations, she was a "ratings machine you could trust"; to actors, a "rookie gateway" and "box-office guarantee."
"We bend to her every word on scheduling, her every casting whim. What do they think we are?"
"Sir, actually..."
"We hold the scheduling power—we're the top dogs. Why are we groveling? This industry's all about who blinks first, don't you know?"
"Of course, I do. But still..."
"We're starting off on the back foot!"
Jeong clicked his tongue and sighed, his voice laced with frustration as he turned to Park PD. "Push it to August Mon-Tue and cast Yoo Tae-seok no matter what. Got it?"
The reason even the prideful Jeong had to yield: tvKR dramas were lagging badly in ratings against competitors in the same time slots. And right after the mega-budget Storm Hill flopped and ended early. With year-end ratings battles looming, tvKR had no other options. Kim's next project was more crucial than ever.
"Yes, sir."
"If we delay to August, how do you plan to fill the gap?"
"Most solid projects are already locked with other networks. So..."
Catching Jeong's brow relax just a fraction, Park PD quickly slid a script copy his way.
"It's from Kim's side."
Jeong picked up the script. On the cover: Wanted. Below it, the writer's name: Seo Min-kyeong.
Noting Jeong's puzzled expression, Park PD rushed to explain. "The script's quality is top-notch, and the premise is gripping. This is the final draft up to episode 4, plus the synopsis."
"Forget that—who's Seo Min-kyeong? Never heard of her."
"Well..."
"Who is she?"
Park PD hesitated before answering. "I looked her up since the name rang a bell—she's a rookie who's been assistant writer on Kim's last four projects. Heard she's Kim's favorite disciple."
"Oh, really? Not content with getting her way, now she wants us to debut her protégé too? Hey! Don't you have a spine?"
"No, sir. Just read it first and..."
With a reluctant grimace, Jeong flipped to the synopsis's first page. The rustle of pages turning irritably made Park PD swallow hard in the tense silence blanketing the room.
"Hold on."
Jeong's eyes widened as he read, shattering the quiet.
"Korean Cold-cases Forensic Service?"
A crime thriller unfolding at the fictional national agency dedicated to cracking long-unsolved cases. The fresh chase-thriller genre, the bold use of a made-up agency, and drawing from real cold cases piqued Jeong's interest.
"Good material."
Nodding as he breezed through the script, Jeong earned a silent sigh of relief from Park PD.
"Lucky for us, Kim's side sent over a solid scenario out of guilt. Haha..."
"You call that 'lucky'?"
Jeong's sharp glare made Park PD avert his eyes and stifle his laugh.
"Still, for a rookie—and Kim's direct disciple with assistant creds—she's the best bet right now."
"Agreed."
Jeong set the script down. "We'll go with this."
"Yes, sir. I'll report once the team is set."
"Get the planning docs up ASAP. Meeting's over."
"Good work, everyone."
"Oh, Park PD—hang back a sec."
As people filed out, soon only Jeong and Park PD remained.
"Min-jae. Who should direct?"
Jeong smiled faintly.
"The rookie PD hasn't helmed yet, but she's got solid assistant experience. Might be good to give her the shot."
"Nah. I see it differently."
"Pardon?"
"Genre piece like this—putting a newbie with just assistant creds on her debut doesn't fit."
Park PD's unease grew as Jeong pondered, blinking.
"Min-jae."
"Yes."
"You should take the megaphone."
His instincts were spot-on, as always. Park PD waved his hands. "Sir, I don't have time for on-set anymore..."
"Just do it."
Jeong's firm tone turned Park PD's face to a grimace.
"You're chief—own it. Time to show your chops again."
"Sir—Senior!"
"I wanna see one more of your works before I retire."
"But this is... unfamiliar genre, tough casting."
"It's just Kim's fill-in. Decent ratings are enough."
"Even so..."
"I expect great things. Gotta make your next-department-head debut count, right? That's the plan. Good luck."
"Se—Senior!"
Jeong patted Park PD's shoulder twice and left, a mischievous grin on his face.
"Argh!"
Park PD's wail echoed through the empty room.
Back home, Woojin shrugged off his coat and stood before the wall mirror.
Nothing's really changed.
Fifteen years as a nameless actor or three—it was all the same grind. The only difference: a slightly younger face.
Rrrrr.
His bitter mood shattered as his phone rang. It was Seong-o.
"Yeah?"
"Woojin-ah, where you at?"
"Just got home."
Seong-o's voice brimmed with curiosity. "Hey, what went down with you and the CEO earlier?"
"Why?"
"He stormed into our team office and yelled at the casting directors to pull all your profiles. Straight-up."
"My profiles?"
"Yeah. He even checked they got 'em back. Thought my eardrums would burst."
Woojin stifled a silent laugh. They were this desperate to screw him over? How could anyone lack a conscience this badly?
"Woojin-ah? You listening?"
Suppressing his amusement, Woojin replied, "Yeah. Go on."
"Anyway, had to pull 'em. Sorry. But figured you should know."
"Nah. Sorry you had to deal with my mess."
Woojin sighed. Then Seong-o dangled an enticing tidbit.
"But I've got good intel for you—that's why I called."
"Yeah? What's up?"
"Remember that tvKR slot next month? Kim Soo-rim's project."
"Yeah, sure."
Kim Soo-rim's work... Woojin racked his brain. If history held, it'd be tvKR's Hanbando—a drama set in a future unified Korea, pitting North against South.
"Got delayed to second half, so they're rushing a fill-in."
Wait, wasn't that a first-half drama?
So the past could diverge, and this was it?
"Fill-in?"
"Yeah, rookie's script. Turns out she's Kim's prized disciple and ex-assistant."
"It go public yet?"
"Nah, just hit agencies. Closed auditions. They're gunning to wrap casting fast."
Drama auditions were tougher barriers for nameless actors than films. Info flowed between agencies and casting directors; leads and supports rarely went public. Like now.
So Seong-o's tip was gold for a free agent like Woojin.
"Remember Bang Mi-hyeon? Send your profile to her ASAP. She got the script and synopsis but won't share in this climate. She'll give basic roles though. Got a pen?"
"Yeah. Shoot."
"Audition's out for these roles..."
Seong-o rattled off details on several parts.
"Thanks, man."
"Nail it and you owe me a feast. Talk later."
"Deal. Thanks."
"You too."
After hanging up, Woojin fired up his laptop at the desk.
Bang Mi-hyeon...
A familiar face from his theater days, when auditions were constant.
He tweaked his profile, attached a performance clip and desired roles, then emailed her.
Hope it works out.
After sending, he pulled the diary from his coat pocket. Its red cover never failed to draw his eye.
And exactly three days later, a message arrived.