The Next Project (1)
The elevator came to a stop on the eighth floor of Kidari Entertainment.
Manager Park Sang-ho was escorting his actress, Eun Chae-won, whose shoot had just wrapped, toward the CEO’s office. Choi Hyung-tak had summoned them for a simple reason: to choose Eun Chae-won’s next project.
The planning team had already gathered dozens of film and drama scripts that would suit her and narrowed them down to eight. As always, the final decision rested with Eun Chae-won herself.
She had no intention of taking a long break and wanted to settle on something as quickly as possible.
“You worked hard today, Chae-won.”
Choi Hyung-tak greeted her in his usual flamboyant outfit from head to toe. Today it was an eye-catching green cowboy hat paired with a leopard-print bodysuit that looked more like a single-piece costume than a two-piece set. Eun Chae-won and Park Sang-ho exchanged subtle glances before taking their seats on the sofa.
A stack of scripts already waited for her on the table.
“I pulled the best ones that came in after your last project, including the new work from Director Mo. I focused on S-level and A-level directors and writers, but I also slipped in a couple of solid scripts from slightly lower-tier teams.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Sang-ho and I both thought Kim Geum-sook’s script looked the strongest.”
“She’s starting a new project, right?”
“Yeah. I read the script. It’s good. Netflix already committed seven hundred billion won to it.”
“That’s a huge production. I’ll take a look.”
Choi Hyung-tak naturally wanted her to take Kim Geum-sook’s project, but he knew Eun Chae-won well enough to understand she didn’t automatically gravitate toward famous writers or directors. At her level, most actors chose based on pay or co-stars once the script was decent, yet she always prioritized script quality and roles she had never played before.
Another of her quirks was that she made these decisions entirely on her own, without consulting family or close colleagues.
“How was the last shoot? I heard you and Kang Tae-san worked really well together. Their team is apparently in full celebration mode.”
“It was fun.”
“Oh? Really? I always said that guy had something special.”
Choi Hyung-tak recalled his visit to Kang Tae-san’s apartment. The faint glimpse he had caught of the young actor’s future had been enough to excite him. Holding two gems—Eun Chae-won on his left and Kang Tae-san on his right—he felt like a pirate captain whose chest was swelling with anticipation. Once the film opened, both actors would rise again. Their growth meant direct profit for him. What a beautiful partnership.
This wasn’t just the intuition of someone with shamanic blood. It was the certainty of a man who ran an entertainment company.
“What’s Kang Tae-san doing for his next project?” Eun Chae-won asked.
“Hmm. He’s still weighing his options. The industry hasn’t fully recognized him as a leading man yet, so the scripts he’s getting aren’t great. Once the movie releases, better offers will pour in. I told him to wait.”
“I see.”
“Why the sudden interest? You never ask about other actors.”
Normally, Eun Chae-won showed zero curiosity about anyone else’s affairs. Choi Hyung-tak’s instincts told him her attention toward Kang Tae-san was different, and he wondered if there was something more personal behind it.
“He’s been bothering me. I figured if he gets busy with work, he might leave me alone.”
Her answer caught him off guard.
“Kang Tae-san? Bothering Eun Chae-won?”
He had heard they filmed a kiss scene during the final shoot. Even off-camera, the two had grown close enough that the production company had asked if they could use some of the footage for promotional material. Could Kang Tae-san have been the one pushing too hard?
Choi Hyung-tak’s expression sharpened instantly. No matter how talented the young actor was or how much profit he might bring, nothing compared to Eun Chae-won. To both Choi Hyung-tak and Park Sang-ho, she was practically a daughter.
He shot Park Sang-ho a sharp look, silently demanding an explanation. The manager quietly shook his head.
“It’s not what you’re thinking, sir. I’ll explain later.”
“Anyway, I’ll read the scripts and give you my answer within a week.”
“Oh, sure. Take your time.”
“By the way, the company MT includes the actors this time, right?” Park Sang-ho asked, deliberately loud enough for Eun Chae-won to hear.
“Yeah. Chae-won, what about you? Skipping again?”
“……”
“It might be good for you to go and mingle with the others. The PR team wants a group photo for a magazine collaboration.”
“If she’s not there, people will start spreading nonsense about internal conflict again.”
“I’ll just read the scripts.”
“……You’re really not going? Well, if that’s what you want. An actor’s job is to act well, after all.”
“Haha, exactly. Let’s go, Chae-won. You’re heading home, right?”
“Yes.”
Park Sang-ho smoothly escorted Eun Chae-won out of the office. He understood exactly why she had made that comment about Kang Tae-san. As a father of two daughters, he recognized the emotion instantly.
“That’s classic fifth-grade girl logic!”
It was the feeling that surfaced when a boy in class kept catching your attention. She insisted it wasn’t interest, yet it clearly was. Having lived as an actress since childhood without real friends or romantic experiences, Eun Chae-won didn’t even recognize what she was feeling. That was the saddest part.
In this industry, actors and staff lived together for weeks or months at a time, sometimes years. Emotions were bound to develop. Especially in romance genres, the chemistry between leads often mirrored their real relationship. During this shoot, Kang Tae-san might not have noticed, but Eun Chae-won clearly had feelings. That was probably why her performance in the pure romance scenes stood out more than in her previous genres.
After watching her for over eight years, Park Sang-ho could see the difference clearly. She had fallen into that classic “Why does this person keep bothering me and getting on my nerves?” phase, and it was oddly endearing.
“I heard the new actors have to attend the MT this time.”
“……New actors?”
“Yeah. Kang Tae-san will probably go too. Manager Ma was really excited about it.”
“……”
“You still have time to think about it.”
Park Sang-ho walked beside her like an uncle enjoying his niece’s budding romance, his nose practically twitching with delight.
***
“Whoa. How much is this even worth?”
Kang Tae-san stood in front of the liquor aisle, counting and recounting the numbers on the price tags. Someone who usually bought cheap domestic beer—five cans for ten thousand won—couldn’t understand why anyone would drink liquid that cost two or three hundred thousand won.
“Tae-san, this is actually on the cheaper side.”
Min Jin-cheol, who had come to the mart with him, dropped a bottle of Blue Label whiskey into the cart.
“Hyung, I really think this culture is absurd.”
“Kid, if you call something absurd out loud, that’s when it becomes truly absurd. Change your perspective. Do you think the seniors are going to show up empty-handed? They’ll bring something nice so they don’t look bad in front of the juniors. Especially since we’re talking about top actors here.”
“Wouldn’t it be great if everyone just didn’t bring anything? How much is one drop of this 750ml bottle even worth?”
He kept fuming over why he had to buy alcohol for a company MT.
The next day, Kang Tae-san arrived at the Kidari Entertainment building with Min Jin-cheol, carefully cradling the ridiculously expensive liquor. A 26-seater VIP limousine bus and a regular deluxe bus were waiting out front. Actors would ride the front bus, staff the one behind.
“See you later.”
“Yes, hyung. Don’t sing on the bus.”
“There’s a karaoke machine?!”
“I’ll tell Yeon-joo noona.”
“Ahem. I already left my very pregnant wife behind. Do you know how guilty I feel? I’m only going because I have no choice, okay? Really, truly no choice.”
“Pfft. Got it. See you later.”
Kang Tae-san loaded his backpack into the trunk and carefully carried the boxed whiskey onto the bus.
“Hey, Tae-san! You made it!”
Koo Yang-man spotted him and waved enthusiastically.
“You’re coming too, sunbae? I thought you were going to pick pine mushrooms.”
“Heh heh. There’s something even better than mushrooms.”
Kang Tae-san hesitated for a moment about sitting next to Koo Yang-man, but when he saw a bag already occupying the seat, he used it as an excuse to sit in front. Koo Yang-man, however, had no intention of letting him go and immediately leaned over the seat to chat.
“First time at the workshop?”
“Yes. I didn’t think you’d come to something like this. How many times have you been?”
“Kidari does this every year, but once every three years Choi Hyung-tak shows up and puts up insane prizes for the games.”
“Prizes?”
Kang Tae-san had expected games, but not actual prizes. If there were prizes, he was determined to win and at least recover the cost of the alcohol.
“Technically they’re gifts. Stuff you can’t buy even if you have the money. Last time it was a hundred-year-old wild ginseng from Jirisan.”
“Ah…… ginseng?”
Kang Tae-san’s enthusiasm deflated instantly.
“That’s why I’m definitely teaming up with you. No matter what! We have to win that prize!”
This wasn’t an MT. It was a disaster. He still had to live the life of the eternal youngest member and now had to play games seriously just to get some ginseng. It was work on top of work on top of work. He silently renewed his resolve to succeed as fast as possible.
“Oh, sunbae-nim! Hello, I’m Ong Joo-hyuk. Is this seat taken?”
A new actor around Kang Tae-san’s level recognized Koo Yang-man and tried to sit after moving the bag.
“Hey now. I run hot. Go sit somewhere else.”
“Haha. Yes, sir. I’ll greet you properly when we arrive.”
Soon the bus filled with rookie and mid-tier actors, everyone settling into their seats. There were only about a dozen people, so there was plenty of space. Groups who knew each other were already chatting away.
Kang Tae-san put in his earphones at the front seat, planning to sleep.
“All right, we’re departing. It should take about an hour and a half to reach the lodging.”
“Okay~”
The Kidari staff confirmed the headcount and pulled out. Just as the door was about to close, a quiet voice spoke up.
“I’ll get on too.”
An all-too-familiar face stepped onto the bus stairs.
“Huh? Isn’t that Chae-won?”
“Chae-won!”
“Eun Chae-won came?”
Eun Chae-won appeared, wearing a plain face with no makeup and a blue cap pulled low. Since the Kidari MT had begun, she had never once attended. She rarely showed up even at year-end parties or company dinners, so her presence at this private event surprised everyone.
She looked around for an empty seat. All the single seats were taken, and the double seats each had one person already sitting. One actor around her age stood up to offer their spot, but Eun Chae-won walked straight to the person she knew best and sat down without hesitation.
“Oh my, it’s nice to see your face, Chae-won. What brings you here?”
“Just felt like it. You said you were coming, sunbae, and it’s been a while since everyone’s seen each other.”
Koo Yang-man stopped chewing the rice cake he had brought and greeted her warmly. The real reason Eun Chae-won had changed her mind was simple: as the most senior actress at Kidari Entertainment, skipping the MT felt wrong.
“Uh, well……”
Kang Tae-san stared blankly at the woman who had just claimed the seat beside him.
“I get really bad motion sickness.”
“Ah……”
Of all the empty seats, why had she chosen his? He suspected motion sickness was just an excuse and that she had picked the most convenient junior to sit next to.
“Right. I’ll just deal with it.”
He had no choice but to accept it. They had worked together twice, after all. He had learned a lot from her. Besides, she was probably struggling with acting even more than he was……
……
……
Actually, no. He couldn’t accept it. What sin had the youngest member committed? Was being convenient a crime? Starting acting late a crime? He had to buy expensive alcohol, endure threats about winning games, and now he couldn’t even relax for an hour and a half.
But Kang Tae-san, ever the dutiful youngest, swallowed every complaint. He simply hugged the overpriced whiskey tightly to his chest.