The Web Drama That Shouldn't Be
A web drama. Literally speaking, it meant a drama you could watch on the web.
Dramas produced in-house by OTT platforms like Net❌flix could also only be viewed online, but nobody usually called those web dramas.
The web dramas I meant were the ones uploaded to free video sites that anyone could watch.
Each episode ran under fifteen minutes, and the subject matter was romance, through and through. High school romance or college romance — only the setting changed, while the content stayed more or less identical. The target demographic was clearly defined, too.
But contrary to quite a few prejudices out there, if you actually went looking, you'd find plenty of web dramas that were surprisingly well made. Lately, videos on themes other than romance had started appearing as well, and more and more people, worn out by long, tedious TV dramas, were turning their gaze this way.
Besides, this was an era where even celebrities were creating their own channels. Anyone could easily guess that the web drama market would only grow from here. And yet—
'CEO Jang will probably think this is somebody else's problem.'
Wooyeon Entertainment was so closed off that it frowned even on its actors making one-off variety show appearances for publicity. You could tell after just a short conversation with CEO Jang Woo-yeon — the man took enormous pride in his actors being genuinely good at acting. And he was extremely sensitive about anything that kept his actors from receiving the treatment they deserved.
Jung Hyun had been right to call him a money-grubber, and he'd also been right to add that he was, at least, the most decent money-grubber around.
CEO Jang poured himself into providing what he called "a proper environment for acting" — an environment that would raise his actors' market value — to the point of drawing sideways glances from those around him. And I knew: to him, a web drama shoot was not a proper environment for acting.
'Mostly because serious, legitimate actors rarely take these roles.'
For rookie actors desperate to debut, a web drama could be a perfectly reasonable choice. But for anyone whose face was already out there, the natural reaction was a skeptical '...why, though?'
Which was exactly why I couldn't help being flustered when Manager Ahn Jinbae said this to me:
"I've set up a meeting with the production team for the day after tomorrow. It's a pre-meeting... with a light audition mixed in."
"I'm sorry — what?"
"Don't worry, everything's been cleared all the way up to the CEO. I told you to trust me, didn't I, Actor-nim?"
I stared blankly at that dependable, beaming face. I'd been quietly listening to him rattle on excitedly about this and that, and then this came out of nowhere.
"Hyung, you only told the CEO we'd be filming a web drama, right? You didn't show him the script."
"What are you talking about? Of course he read the script through and approved it."
"...And he still signed off on it?"
When I asked again, unable to believe it, Manager Ahn Jinbae crinkled the bridge of his nose, looking a bit sheepish. Just from the way he avoided my eyes while talking, I could roughly guess how CEO Jang had reacted.
Understandably so. This script wasn't some masterwork wearing the disguise of a web drama — it was a light, breezy high school romance with all the depth of a puddle. Reading it over several times, it was packed with lines so childish I occasionally winced.
'My heart only learned to beat because it met you.' CEO Jang had approved that?
"You've never once made a special request of the company, Actor-nim. I think that weighed on him. Everything was discussed with Team Leader Woo as well, so you really don't need to worry."
"Hyung, I genuinely don't have to do this drama."
"Oh, I believe you."
"..."
That dependable face answered with the smoothest of deflections. Sly, from Manager Ahn Jinbae of all people. I'd thought it wouldn't suit him at all, but it suited him better than I expected. Of course, that did nothing to make it less infuriating.
And then the day after tomorrow arrived — meeting day. I'd assumed we'd be traveling somewhere external, but the meeting was held at our own company. A stream of visibly nervous people filed into the meeting room.
"Hello, I'm Lee Yeonjae."
"Hello! I'm PD Lee Soohyun of Seoul Production, with Sheen."
The off-key greeting went unacknowledged as I offered a gentle smile. After a few rounds of light small talk to break the ice, the faces across the table visibly relaxed.
Team Leader Woo sized up the other party with sharp, agile eyes, then broke into a warm, people-pleasing smile.
"You must have been quite shocked when you got our call."
"Shocked is an understatement! At first, when they said Wooyeon Entertainment, I thought it was a phishing call."
"This is our first time sending one of our actors into a web drama, too. We look forward to working with you. About that list of investors we requested over the phone—"
"Ah, yes! Here you go!"
The PD hurriedly dug a sheet of paper out of her bag and handed it over. Team Leader Woo stroked her chin and quietly read down the page — and in an instant, the warmth vanished as if it had never existed. The faces across the table went rigid.
Watching them, like new employees reporting to a boss, I caught myself wondering for a second whether this was really happening.
"Hmm. Not bad. The investment amounts are decent."
"What a relief! Then Lee Yeonjae's appearance is—"
"Haha, regardless of the investment amounts, our actor will be appearing. That much you needn't worry about. However..."
The tip of Team Leader Woo's finger pointed elegantly at one spot on the paper.
"This one here — you'll want to drop them. They push their PPL demands to absolutely absurd levels. More than one or two dramas have taken their money and walked straight into a minefield because of it."
"Ah... but if we cut them, our production budget..."
"We can make up the difference on our end. That is, if you'd like."
"You'd even help with the investment...?"
The PD echoed the question in a dazed voice. Team Leader Woo smiled sweetly at the widening eyes around the table.
"It hasn't been long since we signed him, but Yeonjae is an immensely precious actor to us. He's in the middle of an important stage, building his filmography."
"Yes, yes, of course."
"A project's commercial success matters, naturally, but so does its quality. No matter how minor a supporting role it is, if it's a drama our actor appears in, then whatever help we can offer, we obviously should."
At that solid, businesslike smile, the PD nodded her head furiously in gratitude. To me, it felt like watching someone being recruited into a cyber-cult in real time, which left me a little uncomfortable.
The writer beside her smiled, clearly angling for favor, and offered a suggestion. "We'd actually been discussing this internally... We felt it would be a disservice to have Lee Yeonjae appear merely as the female lead's little brother. If you could give us just a little more time, we'd prepare an entirely new script—"
"No. If you do that, I'm not appearing at all."
I'd stayed quiet the whole meeting, and my sudden interjection turned every head my way. Team Leader Woo had told me to leave things to her as much as possible, but there were things a person had to say.
"I have no intention of playing the lead. The reason I was interested in the first place is that it's the script it is now. If the whole story has to change because of me, I'd honestly rather not do it."
A brief silence settled over the room at my words — and then Team Leader Woo smoothly backed me up.
"That's right. In my opinion, what if you simply added one episode centered on the character Yeonjae will be playing? Keep the supporting role as is, just give it a bit of impact."
"Oh... you'd really be fine with just that?"
"Haha, well, naturally we'd love more. But then again..."
Team Leader Woo's gaze landed on me.
"When the actor himself insists, what say do the rest of us have?"
"..."
Her beaming smile was utterly infuriating. But with outsiders present, I couldn't very well say anything, so I just smiled back.
The others looked somewhat dazed, as though they'd expected us to make far more outrageous demands. The conversation that followed flowed along smoothly, and just like that, my next project was decided.
"Sehyun-ssi, did you hear?"
"Hear what?"
Kang Sehyun smiled at the girl clinging to his side. She's been stuck to me like glue for a while now and it's genuinely getting creepy.
"What do you mean, 'hear what'? You still haven't heard? Honestly, Sehyun-ssi, what would you do without me~?"
"Haha, why? What is it?"
It was bound to be something trivial, but Kang Sehyun smiled anyway. Maintaining his expression flawlessly even when no cameras were around — that alone made him a professional idol.
"I just heard it myself — Lee Yeonjae is going to play my little brother!"
"...The child actor from The Butterfly Flower on the Zelkova Tree?"
"Surprised, right? I couldn't believe it when I heard either!"
Kang Sehyun's eyes went wide for an instant. It was the most dramatic reaction she'd ever seen from him, and the girl, thrilled, clung on even tighter. Kang Sehyun responded with practiced moderation while his thoughts wandered elsewhere.
'Injun is going to lose his mind when he finds out.'
Injun, a member of Kang Sehyun's own group, was currently obsessed with exactly one actor: Lee Yeonjae. This drama had originally been headed for Injun before scheduling conflicts landed it with Sehyun instead — and he could picture, all too vividly, the sight of Injun tearing at his hair upon finding out too late.
'The second the script reading ends, I'm calling him to rub it in.'
When the members had first read the web drama Hello, My Summer, every one of them had been stunned. The lines were such utter nonsense masquerading as dialogue that the mere thought of having to deliver them in front of a camera had sunk everyone's mood. But the news that a familiar name would be in the cast had lifted it considerably.
If Lee Yeonjae was in it, surely the thing would at least be watchable.
He was giving half-hearted replies to the girl's prattling when, at some point, the script reading room had filled with people. Even a discreet glance around revealed nothing but unfamiliar faces, and he'd just begun to wonder if the girl had made the whole thing up for attention.
"Hello."
Thirty minutes before the reading, Lee Yeonjae arrived. The entrance of the actor who'd been making headlines with the news of Director Yoon's film casting sent a stir through the room.
Watching the PD dart straight toward Lee Yeonjae, Kang Sehyun thought absently: ...Was he always that tall?
"Whoa. Why is he so tall?"
That scared me.
For a moment, he thought he'd actually said it out loud instead of just thinking it, at the girl's words from beside him.
"Right? I don't think he was anywhere near that tall on TV."
"Didn't he just start middle school? His face looks about the same as during Zelkova, but he's shot up. Guess that's what a growth spurt does."
Kang Sehyun ignored the girl's ceaseless chirping and kept his eyes on Lee Yeonjae. A soft smile rested on the boy's face, though he seemed somewhat unenthused by his counterpart's enthusiastic reactions.
Watching him, Kang Sehyun thought: 'That kid's going to get even bigger.'
Kang Sehyun, leader of the boy idol group Space. Debuting at nineteen, he was now, before he knew it, eight years into life in the industry.
Even in the entertainment business — a place where the beautiful and the handsome gathered from every corner — visuals like that were hard to find. And on top of it, that strange, unplaceable aura about him. One look and you could tell he was a born entertainer.
Hmm. Having finished his mental assessment, Kang Sehyun flashed a grin and rose to his feet. He covered the distance in long, easy strides, and Lee Yeonjae, who had been looking at the PD, turned his gaze toward him.
"Hello, I'm Kang Sehyun. I'm a fan — it's an honor to meet you like this."
"Ah, thank you. I'm Lee Yeonjae. Please, speak comfortably."
"May I, really?"
For all his delicate looks, the boy was surprisingly warm. Kang Sehyun continued in an even friendlier tone.
"Then you speak comfortably too. Our group's maknae is a huge fan of yours — any chance you could sign something for him?"
"An autograph?"
Dark eyes regarded Kang Sehyun steadily.
'Asking a rookie for an autograph — that's the direct route to breaking the ice.' Nine times out of ten, opening this way got you a flustered, embarrassed response and loosened up the awkward air. The bonus bump in goodwill was just icing.
Contrary to his calculating thoughts, Kang Sehyun wore the innocent smile of someone with no agenda at all. Lee Yeonjae stared at him for a long moment, then gave an impassioned nod. Utterly deadpan.
...Huh? That's it?
"Sure. Please ask me again after the reading's over."
"...Right!"
What is with this kid.
'He's even more annoying than I expected.'