The Next Project (3)
“Alright, everyone! Eyes on me! Pay attention!”
The noisy barbecue party fell silent as all eyes turned toward the stage. Choi Hyung-tak, now sporting a flashy gold jacket, stood there holding a megaphone like an entertainment PD.
“Finally, it’s time to announce the ultimate winners of today’s fierce competition! The grand champions of Kidari Entertainment’s MT are…! Drumroll, please…!”
Choi Hyung-tak deliberately drew out the suspense, drawing cheers and jeers from the crowd.
“Team Mountain Three! Teacher Gu Yang-man! Actor Kang Tae-san! Actor Ong Joo-hyuk! Please come up to the stage!”
“Gahaha!”
Gu Yang-man shot up first with a booming laugh, dragging Kang Tae-san and Ong Joo-hyuk along as they hurried onto the platform.
“The prize is this!”
Choi Hyung-tak unwrapped the red silk cloth handed to him by a staff member, revealing an elegant paulownia wood box.
“Good heavens… Is that real?”
“The CEO’s gone mad…!”
Inside the box sat the hundred-year-old wild ginseng that Gu Yang-man had been singing about.
“The prize goes to the ace of Team Mountain Three, actor Kang Tae-san!”
Choi Hyung-tak grinned mischievously as he passed the box to Kang Tae-san.
“Aigoo, CEO Choi! What are you doing? Hand it over!”
Gu Yang-man snatched the box like a treasure and gave Kang Tae-san hearty pats on the back.
“I always knew I had an eye for people! Heh heh!”
Gu Yang-man clutched the ginseng box like his own treasure and even blew gentle breaths toward Kang Tae-san, doting on him.
‘Tch. Nothing left for me…’
While he’d earned Gu Yang-man’s affection by bringing back the ginseng, it wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted.
Meanwhile, Ong Joo-hyuk’s expression was complicated.
‘Why isn’t anyone looking after me?’
He’d worked tirelessly in the treasure hunt and carried the team alone during the charades game, yet all the spotlight went to someone else. Jealousy bubbled up inside him.
Sizzle.
The sound of thick pork belly sizzling on the massive iron plate finally made the MT feel like a real MT. Actors and Kidari Entertainment staff mingled, clinking glasses noisily.
“Tae-san, eat up. Have more.”
Only one table had a strange atmosphere. Gu Yang-man kept piling meat onto Kang Tae-san’s plate the moment it was cooked. He had placed the wild ginseng box beside him like a precious relic and focused solely on taking care of Kang Tae-san.
Ong Joo-hyuk couldn’t just sit back and watch.
‘That old man’s completely smitten with Kang Tae-san.’
Ong Joo-hyuk quickly poured two full glasses of beer and slid into the seat next to Gu Yang-man.
“Teacher! Let me pour you a drink!”
“Oh? Sure.”
Gu Yang-man accepted the glass while flipping the meat.
“I saw you during the games earlier—your reflexes are incredible! As expected of Korea’s greatest acting mentor!”
Gu Yang-man cleared his throat after taking the glass.
“You little flatterer.”
Ong Joo-hyuk seized the moment and launched into his complaints, his voice dripping with exaggerated regret.
“No, Teacher. I mean it. My dream has always been to take one of your classes.”
“My class?”
“Yes! Every senior who studied under you has become a huge star. I’ve always wanted to learn from you, but I never got the chance. It’s such a shame.”
Half sincere, half flattery—Gu Yang-man paused while wrapping a ssam and chuckled.
“What do you mean you never got the chance? I gave you one.”
“Pardon?”
“Songi mushrooms. You should’ve brought wild pine mushrooms.”
Gu Yang-man gestured with his chin toward Kang Tae-san, who was chewing on a ssam.
“Look at that guy. He had the guts to go all the way to Odaesan and dig up the real thing. What did you do? Just lifted weights at the gym and came back saying you couldn’t find any?”
“Ah, that’s…! I simply failed to grasp your deeper intentions, Teacher.”
“Heh heh. That’s why you’ll never make it. An actor needs guts. Guts!”
Even after the scolding, Ong Joo-hyuk didn’t back down. In fact, he saw an opportunity.
“As expected of you, Teacher. Your words cut deep. I still have a long way to go.”
“Well, you’re not completely hopeless. You did well in the charades game. Watched a lot of movies, I take it?”
“Of course! Since I’m not qualified to take your class, I’ve been studying every work by the actors you’ve taught!”
“Haha. Look at this guy. All talk.”
Though Gu Yang-man scolded him, he didn’t refuse the drinks Ong Joo-hyuk poured. He seemed to enjoy the flattery despite knowing it for what it was.
While Gu Yang-man kept patting Kang Tae-san’s shoulder in delight, Ong Joo-hyuk forced a smile and downed his beer. The flattery had worked somewhat, but the old man’s attention remained fixed on Kang Tae-san.
Ong Joo-hyuk quickly grabbed another piece of meat, placed it on Gu Yang-man’s plate, and naturally slid into the seat beside Kang Tae-san.
“Tae-san, right?”
“Yes, sunbae.”
“I noticed during the charades game—you don’t seem to have watched many movies or dramas.”
The words carried a sharp edge. Even Gu Yang-man set down his glass and looked at Ong Joo-hyuk with interest.
Ong Joo-hyuk clicked his tongue as if concerned.
“Your performance in that drama was truly impressive. I was very inspired.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you thought so…”
“However.”
Ong Joo-hyuk cut him off.
“In this industry, if you rely only on talent and neglect the basics, your weaknesses will show quickly. Actors must be diligent. You need to read scripts two or three times more than others and master classic films and plays to make them your own. Talent? It runs out after a few projects.”
Kang Tae-san simply chewed his meat in silence.
‘Here we go again.’
First Director Yoo In-gyu, then Teacher Gu Yang-man, and now Ong Joo-hyuk. Why did everyone feel the need to lecture him?
Interpreting Tae-san’s silence as agreement, Ong Joo-hyuk grew more animated.
“Especially for someone like you who gained attention through strong character acting, it’s even riskier. If you can’t transform your image, you’ll hit your limit fast…”
Just then—
“Kang Tae-san.”
A cold voice cut through the noisy barbecue area, silencing Ong Joo-hyuk’s passionate speech. It was Eun Chae-won. She stood there holding an empty plate, staring down at the two men expressionlessly.
“Yes, sunbae.”
“Are you busy?”
He was busy grilling meat, but facing Eun Chae-won, he couldn’t exactly say that.
“Uh… What’s the matter?”
“I have something to discuss.”
“Now?”
Tae-san asked, bewildered. The grill sizzled with oil.
“To look at scripts. We didn’t come here just to play, right?”
“Ah, Chae-won sunbae! May I join as well?”
Ong Joo-hyuk quickly interjected. An opportunity to read scripts with top star Eun Chae-won was not to be missed.
“I also have some advice for Tae-san regarding the scripts…”
Eun Chae-won’s gaze shifted to Ong Joo-hyuk. Her eyes held no emotion whatsoever.
“No need, Ong Joo-hyuk.”
“…Pardon?”
“I only called for Kang Tae-san. Let’s go.”
The sharp rejection made Ong Joo-hyuk’s face flush red and blue.
Eun Chae-won turned and walked toward the annex building.
‘Ah… My meat… My whiskey…’
Kang Tae-san gazed longingly at the feast left on the table. He wanted to refuse outright—studying even on a trip—but when a twenty-year veteran senior called, what could he do?
Unaware of his thoughts, Eun Chae-won was resolute.
‘Worried about me? I’ll properly act as a senior today.’
Kang Tae-san had talent but lacked fundamentals and was unfocused. As the current top star, she needed to tame this wild horse herself.
Of course, this had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he’d smashed her on the head with the mallet during the finals.
“Let’s go.”
Without hesitation, Eun Chae-won led Kang Tae-san away from the smoky barbecue area.
Their destination was a modern two-story glass building at the far end of the pension complex, completely isolated from the main building’s noise.
“What is this place…?”
“The annex. Only those the CEO permits can enter.”
When Eun Chae-won placed her finger on the biometric scanner, the heavy glass door opened silently.
The interior was a completely different world.
“Wow…”
Kang Tae-san couldn’t help but exclaim. The entire first floor looked like a massive library, with books lining every wall from floor to ceiling.
“What is all this?”
Tae-san’s eyes widened. One wall was packed with acting theory books and screenwriting manuals. There were original scripts from past hits, revised drafts, and even rare old scripts that only circulated within the industry.
Tae-san felt as if he’d stepped onto a movie set.
“What’s upstairs?”
“The second floor is a small cinema. It holds rare DVDs and films that are impossible to find now.”
Even from a distance, the scale was impressive.
Eun Chae-won approached a large wooden table in the center. On it lay eight neatly arranged scripts, their covers hidden, showing only the synopsis pages.
“These are the scripts that came in for my next project. I’m torn between two of them.”
Eun Chae-won nodded toward them.
“Just read the synopses and pick one. I want to see which script you’d choose.”
Kang Tae-san felt a headache coming on.
‘Ha… She wants me to read all of these?’
Even though they were only synopses, eight scripts meant dozens of pages.
Tae-san casually flipped through them and picked the two on top that caught his eye.
“I’ll go with… these two.”
For a moment, Eun Chae-won’s eyes widened.
The two scripts Tae-san had chosen belonged to Kim Geum-sook, one of Korea’s top hit writers, and another writer famous for solid scripts, though not as commercially explosive as Kim.
They were the exact two scripts Eun Chae-won had been agonizing over until the very end.
“…How did you choose?”
“Hm?”
“Why those two specifically?”
Kang Tae-san was flustered. He’d simply grabbed whatever was on top.
“Ah… The titles and the first line of the synopses just felt right.”
Eun Chae-won stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing.
‘As expected. He knows how to read scripts.’
Though he’d said it was just a feeling, Eun Chae-won was certain Kang Tae-san already possessed refined script-reading skills.
‘A good script reveals the writer’s intent, genre, and atmosphere right from the title and the first line of the synopsis.’
This was also a matter of talent—something not easily achieved through training alone.
“Perfect.”
“Sorry? What is?”
Eun Chae-won handed both scripts to Kang Tae-san with a satisfied smile.
“Read and analyze them.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Read both carefully. Tell me which one is better and why, and which one you’d choose if you were me.”
“Why…?”
“You told me to come to you if I had any concerns.”
“That was…”
Tae-san recalled how he’d meddled during their last shoot. He’d only said it because her troubled expression reminded him of his sister So-yeon.
He never expected it to be used like this.
Kang Tae-san looked down at the heavy stack of scripts in his arms.
When he forced a laugh, Eun Chae-won wore a strangely satisfied smile.
‘It’s not every day you get to see unreleased scripts. Of course he’d be thrilled. Now I finally feel like a proper senior.’
But Tae-san’s stomach churned.
‘Ha… She’s definitely getting back at me for hitting her with the mallet.’
His head throbbed.