Twins — The Offer
"Actor-nim, are you all set?"
"Yes. Let's go."
The next day, I found myself heading to the office at CEO Jang's sudden summons. The car was quiet as it traveled the familiar route. I hesitated for a moment, then clenched my fists and tossed out the words I'd prepared yesterday. Or rather, tried to.
"Hyung. About me getting snippy yesterday. I'm really so—"
"If you're about to apologize, I'm not listening."
He cut me off before I'd even gotten out a fraction of a fraction of what I'd rehearsed. Flustered, I stared straight ahead, and in the rearview mirror I caught the crinkle of eyes smiling softly back at me.
"I'm sure there's something else you need to say. Right?"
...No, there isn't, though?
The only thing on my list had been an apology. What else is someone supposed to do after snapping at another person?
"Uh..."
"......."
"Could I at least get a hint?"
At my words, the smile he'd been wearing deepened. It was the look of someone genuinely enjoying himself. Last night, I'd spent ages mulling things over with Angae tucked in my arms. I'd prepared my remarks to be as tidy as possible and anticipated every reaction Manager Ahn Jinbae might have. But that smiling face was not one of the scenarios I'd run through.
"No hints. I'll wait patiently, so when you figure it out, I want you to be the one to tell me."
"......Understood. But are you sure you won't accept my apology?"
"Of course. And besides, I was in a good mood. Keep that in mind while you think it over."
He was in a good mood? Why?
The longer the conversation went on, the deeper the mystery grew. Before I could even wipe the bewildered look off my face, we arrived at the office. When I glanced at Manager Ahn Jinbae while standing in front of the CEO's door, he was still smiling away. No use. I'd have to think about it more on the way home.
"CEO Jang, we're here. Hello, Team Leader Woo."
Inside the office were CEO Jang and Team Leader Woo. But both of them were wearing a strange expression that was hard to put into words. I was still trying to figure out what was going on when a completely unexpected phrase popped out of CEO Jang's mouth.
"How on earth did you pull this off?"
"Sorry?"
"Yoon Kangyeon. That guy's famous for being difficult even in this industry. Good grief."
"What are you talking about?"
"An offer came in under your name."
CEO Jang handed me the documents he'd been holding. On the first page of the A4 bundle I'd accepted in a daze, this was written:
Twins (working title)
Directed and written by Yoon Kangyeon / Starring Lee Yeonjae
"......You're casting me?"
"If that were all, would I have been floored in the middle of the night? Look more carefully. Anything strange about it?"
"Sorry?"
"You're the only name on the cast list."
CEO Jang's words reached my ears, but they didn't compute. As I stared at him with a could it be feeling, Team Leader Woo—who had been sitting there half in a daze this whole time—spoke up in his place.
"He wants you as the lead in his next film."
"......."
"Without a single other actor."
In an instant, the room filled with dead silence. I was left speechless.
Director Yoon's proposal was more than enough to send everyone into shock. I stood there quietly, then slowly began turning the synopsis pages one by one. The director of the first film I'd ever headline was Yoon Kangyeon—and a one-man lead at that. But an even more stunning piece of news was hidden inside the synopsis itself.
The role I'd been given was a pair of twins. In other words, I would have to play two characters.
As I froze under the successive shocks, Manager Ahn Jinbae—who had recovered his senses first—asked the obvious question. When he brought up the possibility of the offer being withdrawn or the role being recast, Team Leader Woo shook her head firmly despite her dazed state.
"The name Yoon Kangyeon is a brand in itself. And this isn't some nobody director—it's the Yoon Kangyeon. Who's going to oppose whatever the man decides to do?"
"......."
"At Director Yoon's level, investors would line up out the door even if he said he was casting complete unknowns."
A film is made by its director. But the director isn't the one paying for it. Since outside investors are essential to fund production, it's apparently a matter of course that a single word from them can change casting decisions. Commercial films, which cost more to make than dramas, face even stricter constraints. Because they must recoup production costs through ticket sales, they can't afford even the slightest risk.
That's also why well-known actors' faces and names appear so prominently on Korean movie posters. Casting actors with so-called Ticket Power soothes that underlying anxiety.
I didn't need anyone to explain how absurd it was for someone with not a single proper film credit to be tapped as the one-man lead of a commercial film. I understood it instantly. What had made the impossible possible was the value carried by the name Yoon Kangyeon. The first name announced ahead of any other actor in the marketing. And as the only director in Korea to have won the Palme d'Or, the whole world was already watching for his next film. Even if the production side found me lacking, they couldn't presume to object to Director Yoon's choice.
I guess he really did like what he saw.
I never imagined a single screen test would bring back such a radical opportunity. As I scanned the synopsis with that odd feeling settling over me, CEO Jang's characteristic low voice reached me.
"Anyway, take that home and think it over. Let us know if you're in or out."
"...? Do I get a say in this?"
"Huh?"
When I looked up in puzzlement, I found an expression even more baffled than mine.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's a one-man lead in a Director Yoon film. Shouldn't it be a given that I do it? Whether I like it or not..."
"If you don't like it, you don't do it. Simple as that."
But hadn't he shown quite the opposite attitude back during the Mission Clear shoot? I kept the thought to myself, but he seemed to remember it right away, because he quickly opened his mouth.
"No, back then I was just trying to put you in your place. You'd barely signed with us..."
He scratched the back of his neck, looking thoroughly embarrassed.
"What's the point of me posturing at a kid who brings me Director Yoon on his own without me lifting a finger?"
As I watched him quietly, his hands grew busier and busier. The sight of him so genuinely sheepish brought a laugh out of me. Whatever else you could say about the man, he was a truly honest one.
I told him I'd think it over and returned home, but the strange feeling lingered.
"I'm going to be in a movie..."
The films Director Yoon had made all shared a similar palette—a murky, disorienting atmosphere, like fog at dawn sinking deep into the air beneath it. I pictured the protagonists who wandered, utterly lost, through his frames. And then I tried to imagine myself standing there with that same expression... yeah, no. Can't picture it.
My head was too tangled for sleep to come quickly. When I closed and reopened my eyes, I found the black space waiting for me, with Angae running toward me.
"Yeonjae!"
Instinctively, I caught Angae as he tried to leap into my arms in his four-year-old form. Oof. Heavy. Having done this several times now, lifting him wasn't difficult, but he was still remarkably weighty.
"Have you been sneaking food behind my back? You're seriously heavy."
"Huh? Heavy? Then I'll get down!"
"No, it's fine. Just make me a chair."
The moment I sat down on the rocking chair Angae conjured, a table and a floor lamp appeared beside me as naturally as breathing. On the table sat the very synopsis I'd been reading before bed. He hadn't been told a thing, and yet there it all was, made up without a hitch. Charmed by the sight, I patted the back leaning against my chest. The warmth seeping through my clothes was cozy.
"Is this the one you're going to do? I read it before you came, and it was fun!"
"Hmm. I'm still deciding."
"Why? Isn't it fun?"
"It is fun. It's just—playing two characters in one. I think it'll be a challenge."
Black letters showed through the white paper, which was crinkled and creased from all the times I'd clenched and unclenched it. Twins—the two characters I would have to play.
Lee Jinwoo, who grew up in a wealthy household and received a first-class education. And Kang Tae-il, raised among organized criminals, who never even managed a proper stretch of schooling. The same face, living opposite lives.
Since styling could only go so far, I would have to change everything that could be changed—expressions, voice, intonation, habits, down to the way each one walked. Knowing full well it would be no easy task, my deliberation only deepened.
"I can help you again this time! Don't worry!"
"Sure. It won't help, but thanks."
"......Hmph."
At my breezy answer, Angae pressed his mouth into a firm line and bumped his head against my chest. It was his own little protest, but all I could do was laugh. Suppressing the corners of my mouth as they tried to rise, I stroked his fluffy hair.
It was a comfortable time—one I wished would never end.
"Actor-nim, breakfast is ready."
The moment I finished today's acting practice, I heard a knock at just the right time. It was the depths of winter, but practice had left me covered in sweat. After a thorough shower, I stepped into the living room to find a table set more elaborately than usual. A faint question mark rose in my mind, but this had happened from time to time before, so I sat down quietly.
"Thank you for the meal."
I laid thick cuts of perfectly grilled mackerel over the rice and took a big spoonful of perilla seed seaweed soup, the nutty flavor blooming through my mouth.
"How's the seasoning?"
"It's delicious. Thank you."
It really was delicious—good enough to make me wonder if I deserved such a feast first thing in the morning. But something was off. Why was he staring at me like that?
"Is there something on my face?"
"Actor-nim, don't you have something you want to tell me?"
Instead of awkwardly dropping his gaze as I'd expected, he fired the question right back with wide, sparkling eyes. His voice was unmistakably excited. I was casting about for anything that could have Manager Ahn Jinbae so worked up when the subject suddenly came to me, and I let out an Ah!
"That's right, I forgot to mention it."
"Yes! Go ahead!"
"I've decided to do Director Yoon's film."
Three days of agonizing had brought me to the decision. If I dove in carelessly and produced a mess from lack of ability, wouldn't that just burden everyone? With the resolve that I at least had to avoid being a burden, I'd spent three days practicing, and by the end I felt I could manage it to a reasonable degree.
He hadn't pressed me for an answer, but he seemed quietly eager for one, so I'd naturally assumed Manager Ahn Jinbae would break into a huge grin the moment he heard my decision. But his reaction was... rather underwhelming.
"Oh..."
"...?"
"Wow, that's— that's really wonderful news. I'm so glad, Actor-nim! Um, er... is there anything else you wanted to say?"
His reaction made it plainly clear this wasn't the response he'd been hoping for, so I racked my brain again.
"Are you talking about me snapping at you before? I still haven't figured that out."
"No, it's not that..."
His deliberately gentle smile looked distinctly troubled. Even after thinking it over carefully, no answer came to me. As I stood there dumbly rolling my eyes, Manager Ahn Jinbae urged me to at least finish my soup before it went cold.
"Go change your clothes, please. We're stopping by the office."
"The office, all of a sudden? You didn't mention anything yesterday."
"......Well, we do have to tell CEO Jang that you're taking Director Yoon's film."
For some reason his answer came a beat late, but I nodded without giving it much thought. Noh Bihyeok had been bombarding me with messages asking what time I was free today, and it was getting on my nerves.
If I hit the office and then meet Noh Bihyeok after... I could still fit in three more hours of practice.
It was winter break, and with nothing in particular demanding my time, I needed to bank as much practice as I could whenever the chance arose. Hiding my true wish to just practice at home all day, I hurried to change.