The Viewers Have Spoken
Success rides the times. There was an era when a terrestrial drama treated a 25 percent rating as the floor; these days, barely clearing 10 percent counts as a victory.
For a broadcast-network drama that had spent years getting steamrolled by the more provocative, adventurous fare on cable, The Master's Medical Log posting a 30 percent rating was, by any measure, a staggering achievement.
And yet even within the same medium, there existed a genre operating on an entirely different scale.
The one-act drama.
A format that limps along on average ratings in the 1 percent range, kept barely alive under the banner of cultivating new writers and new PDs. A genre whose cancellation is floated every single year, one that has to fight tooth and nail just to hold onto its already meager production budget.
As a one-act drama, Dad's Screening posted numbers that could only be called a smash hit.
Popular actors dropping into a one-act and cracking 5 percent was hardly unheard of, but Dad's Screening was not a case of so-called star marketing paying off.
The biggest name attached, Oh Na-yoon, had mostly casual fans cultivated through variety shows — the kind of audience that rarely stayed up late to hunt down a one-act. Gwon Du-il didn't have a particularly deep fanbase as an actor, and as for the rookie Lee Su-a, there was nothing to say.
That they had still pulled these numbers led many to conclude the drama itself had simply captured the audience.
Even looking at the texts, Lee Ga-hee could hear that over-the-top voice, and she snorted a laugh.
Ratings weren't actually calculated that way, of course — but Ga-hee, who didn't know the precise methodology any more than Kim Gi-yeon did, decided to think of it the same way. It felt much better that way.
Finished with Kim Gi-yeon, Ga-hee looked around the new house, still unfamiliar.
The compact little officetel had been provided by Hangil Entertainment as lodging. Gwon Du-il had wanted to find them a nicer apartment, but Lee Su-a had refused.
"We'll be making money soon enough, so let's start in a way that doesn't put pressure on either of us. Wherever we can go later will be incomparably better than wherever we could go right now."
Ga-hee, who had been worrying that the deposit and every settlement still to come would vanish straight into a mortgage, had agreed with her daughter at once.
Looking back on it now, the confidence in that statement had been almost absurd.
She's that sure she can earn enough to buy a whole house on her own? How is a child this bold. How does she not doubt her own ability even a little?
What was more remarkable still was that the swagger didn't feel like arrogance.
A bit part in a drama, and a one-act. Only two acting credits to her name, and yet she had won recognition from everyone involved. The leads, of course — and even Ki Sung-hee, who had only crossed paths with her in a brief cameo, had been unable to hide her admiration for Su-a's skill. Now the viewers were catching on too.
The community post Lee Won-seok had sent her, telling her to check the feedback, was nothing but praise for Su-a. People were probably being careful because Su-a was still so young and the board was public — but it felt good all the same.
She was still being called by her character's name more often than her own, but soon there would be people who remembered Su-a's name.
That might be a little frightening, actually…….
The good feeling plunged in an instant. Something Su-a had said came back to her.
"Mom, can't you stop working and rest now? I'm earning money too. And I'm going to earn a lot more from here on."
Her daughter, who had grown startlingly adult at some point, had even tried to take on the household.
Ga-hee had already cut back her workdays because of Su-a — and now she was supposed to quit entirely? It wasn't something a mere ten-year-old should be saying, so she had refused firmly. Su-a hadn't looked disappointed in the slightest. She had simply made another offer.
"Then let's say you quit once I land a good project next. I'm not telling you to stop working altogether. There's bound to be something that suits you better."
It was painfully obvious she had been angling for this from the start. Even when Ga-hee had laid down the law that whatever this "good project" was, it had better be a very good one, Su-a had only smiled, sly and serene.
Ga-hee didn't know anymore. Not the sudden turn to acting, and not the near-fluent English nobody had ever taught her.
She had thought she knew her daughter better than anyone. Apparently not.
The way Su-a casually tore into a contract and rewrote it hadn't even been surprising. Ga-hee had known since Su-a was small that her intellect was different. But a child who used to shrink the moment she saw an adult man now stating her opinions without a flicker of hesitation in front of Gwon Du-il or Chu Won-woo — that had been almost a shock.
Realizing there was more she didn't know than she did, she found her daughter a little unfamiliar.
Lost in thought as she cleaned, Ga-hee's phone rang. She checked the caller with no particular attention — and then nearly jumped out of her skin.
☆ Kim Young-min
The moment she picked up, something else tumbled out before a greeting.
"What's going on? Did they show up?!"
"This is just a courtesy call, Ga-hee."
"Is it? Then nothing's happened?"
"Yes. It's been quiet so far."
Ga-hee pressed a hand to her chest, and only then exchanged greetings and caught up. He was the sort of person who didn't have much to say, so he mostly listened, and she talked more than usual.
"I saw it too. Su-a has an unexpected talent. To already earn enough to move house — that's impressive."
"The apartment was the agency helping us, though. ……Um, but there won't be a problem, will there? I keep getting startled whenever someone recognizes her on the street."
"Recognizing Su-a is fine. It's recognizing you that's the problem. I believe you know why."
"Right. Of course……."
"Don't worry too much. After seeing Su-a debut, I widened the net in that direction just in case. We're looking over everything in detail, so as long as you don't show any conspicuously nervous reactions, you should be fine. And if there's any suspicious contact, call me immediately."
"Yes……. Thank you."
After hanging up, Ga-hee slapped her own cheeks. She had to keep her head on straight.
"I just have to be careful. I just have to do my part."
The way Su-a had changed so much — wasn't that her fault, too, in a way? If she wanted to be a guardian her daughter could rely on, she had to try harder.
"Ah — Mom!"
"Leave it to me!"
Mom ran. In her urgency she threw her whole body into it, arm stretched to the limit — and smashed the shuttlecock that had been about to drop inside the court with everything she had.
The shuttlecock soared. Kwon Jin-ho missed it by a hair.
Cheers erupted from every direction, and I high-fived Mom.
"Aigoo, so close! If I were just three centimeters taller!"
"Our son, didn't you say just yesterday you didn't want to get as big as your dad?"
"That's a totally different thing!"
"That was… fun……."
"Hah — hahh. Yeah……."
Today's exercise was badminton.
With Gwon Du-il too far ahead in height and power, Kwon Jin-ho and Ji Soo-bin had faced off against Mom and me instead. We hadn't bothered keeping score, but it had been a fiercely close match. Jin-ho's team had the edge in power; ours had the edge in speed.
Stamina, of course, had been a landslide for Jin-ho's side. Those two had barely broken a sweat. Mom and I were sprawled on the gym floor.
"You inhuman stamina monsters……."
Jin-ho shot me a look.
"That's my line, you know? You were wobbling around like a zombie and still ghosting over to wherever I was about to send the shuttlecock."
If the match had stayed that even with a stamina gap this wide, it meant Mom and I had been moving efficiently. My athletic sense really did come from her.
Gwon Du-il, who had been cheering for both teams, let out a hearty laugh and pulled me to my feet.
"Alright, shall we head to the meeting? We've got important stuff to talk about."
"Yes!"
We'd worked up a proper sweat. Time to get back to work.