I'm Used to This Much

"This one's good. The fact that the writer is Oh Haneul bothers me a little, though. Oh, you don't know her? Writer Oh's quality jumps around quite a bit. When her pen is truly possessed, being the most talked-about drama of the year is a given — but when she tanks, you get something that's practically a monstrosity. The ratings get demolished, of course. The problem is the criteria are fuzzy. A straight-up flop is easy to call. These aren't flops so much as monstrosities."

I looked at the Ghost for a long moment.

I had never seen him show off this kind of passion before.

So I gave him a little nudge.

"Doesn't that make it dangerous, then? You're saying success or failure is completely extreme. And if the criteria are that fuzzy, doesn't that mean it's hard to predict?"

The Ghost checked my face for a moment, then opened his mouth.

"When you're reading her work, there are times you can feel Writer Oh getting excited as she writes, you know? Hmm, this is a little hard to explain. Ah! Could you turn just one page?"

"Sure. There — turned."

"Look here. If you look at the character profiles, there's a really strong sense of agency. And every single character background is distinctive, right? Personality, traits, backstory — all of it. That's when you get a feel for it. Ah, she was already on fire when she was writing the characters. Writer Oh hits it big when she's like this."

"And when it's a monstrosity?"

"The character construction is dense — even more so, actually. You can tell she agonized over it. Though honestly, 'this part she agonized over, that part she wrote possessed' isn't a clean distinction. With Writer Oh's work, it's best to wait for the advance copy before you decide. Once you check that, it's certain."

"Certain?"

When I deliberately pressed the point again, the Ghost met my eyes exactly and answered.

"Once you get the advance copy."

"You're not smiling."

"Sorry?"

"That distinctive little smile of yours. It isn't there right now."

"Ah... really?"

And now he was smiling that awkward smile again. But that was not enough to diminish the surprise of the last few minutes.

I had seen a new side of him.

"Meaning you can pick the ones that will succeed."

At my words, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Ghost took a long step back, wearing that characteristically good-natured face of his.

"It's not quite that much, haha... An actor or a director could cause an incident. Or something could blow up. The caliber of the co-stars matters too. Planning is one thing — the footage that actually comes out at the end is a whole different problem. There are so many variables that even I... I've strongly recommended something to an actor thinking this will work! and then watched it flop... Still, what's certain is that you can avoid the landmines?"

"I see."

"Ah, and the actor who flopped wasn't Chaeyoon noona. She's the kind of person who can salvage even a failure... hahaha..."

"Let's keep going. Next one."

I said that and pulled out another handful of bound booklets, and the Ghost asked calmly.

"I can read the scripts — why don't you just leave them with me? Doing even this much, I feel too sorry toward you, Jae-wook."

"That's not how I work. If I don't know something, I learn it. I have to understand it one way or another. I asked you to look at them with me. I didn't ask you to do it for me."

"I think you're going to be a good manager, Jae-wook. Much better than I was."

And then he smiled kindly?

"Heading off to heaven now?"

"...No. I told you I haven't died yet?"

"The way you were talking, I thought you were about to move on. Never mind, then. Let's look at this together. Keep teaching me like you have been."

"Okay."

Having answered, the Ghost casually poked his head in beside me.

"You don't need to test me."

"...Sorry?"

Leaving the flustered Ghost as he was, I turned the first page of the new synopsis.

As if I wouldn't notice.

Who did he think he was fooling.

While we were looking through the synopsis together, a question suddenly occurred to me, and I asked the Ghost.

"Do veteran managers all analyze works as well as you do?"

"It's a little awkward to say this myself, but... haha, not really. Managers like me are rare."

"Confident, aren't you."

"I worked hard at it. Thanks to someone."

"I'm not curious who. I think I already know. And more importantly, I'm someone who likes the process well enough — but cares more about results."

"...You're cold."

"It's not really like that. I like watching. And it helps."

And there he went again, grinning with that awkward face.

I told him not to smile like that.

Around the same time — late as it was — the lights in Nine Entertainment's CEO office had not gone out.

Neither had Managing Director Choi Yoona's phone, which was working just as hard.

"I appreciate the offer, but I believe I made myself clear last time. I don't have that kind of authority."

"He's just resting."

Choi Yoona answered in the calmest voice she could manage.

It was an uncomfortable call — that much was certain — but she could not afford to be careless. The industry was small. The person on the other end was her senior. Nine Entertainment was a company with nothing left but the shell, and the other side was a conglomerate.

If she went looking for reasons to be careful, they overflowed.

The other party's even, measured tone struck her squarely in the chest.

Or perhaps this, too, counted as a reason. The childish dream of keeping her father's company alive — of restoring the Nine Entertainment that had shone in her childhood, the one she used to come and go from — was wearing thin.

"I'm managing."

"Yes. If it comes to that, I'll do so."

Choi Yoona lowered her head.

The financial temptation and the acquisition terms she could withstand. What hurt most was the warm consolation that followed — knowing it was soulless comfort, and still wanting to lean on it. That was the greatest pain of all.

She pretended at the utmost composure.

Thank God it was a phone call. If they had been face to face, her true feelings would have been found out in an instant.

"Our staff work hard. The scandal the other day — you saw how we shut it down, didn't you?"

No... not them either.

"Yes. Let's be in touch. It's late — please get some rest."

She set the disconnected phone aside and picked up the pen in front of her.

"It wasn't them. Not here either."

Line after line was drawn through the name written there.

"Dad always used to say there are times when smoke rises even from a chimney that was never lit."

Choi Yoona remembered her father's words.

The pen moved, drawing circle after circle.

The name inside one of them.

The one who made the smoke.

Right. She hadn't confirmed it, but if the person who made the smoke was Moon Cheol-sik — then who put that smoke out in a single day?

By her father's logic, the smoke going out was no coincidence either.

Inside the empty circle she had drawn beside Moon Cheol-sik's name, someone had to be written.

"Someone did it. I'm sure of it."

It was not as if she had nothing better to do, sitting here this late and taking calls she did not want, just to figure this out.

Just because they had been helpful did not mean she could rashly decide they were an ally. If they were an ally, they would have said they did it.

...Another acquisition hopeful, hoping Nine Entertainment's value doesn't drop any further? And what if they change direction and start shaking things up?

She had to know who the other party was if she was going to deal with what came next. That was why she had taken a call she did not want to take. There was something she needed to know.

And she had learned one thing. At the very least, the KSH Entertainment she had just spoken with was not the one.

"I'm going to make the cherry blossoms bloom at this company again..."

The reason she would not give up on Nine Entertainment?

It was not that she wouldn't. It was that she couldn't.

That was when it came.

Knock, knock, knock—

Someone was tapping on the door of the CEO's office. Choi Yoona hurriedly closed the notepad.

"You were actually here? This late?"

"Oppa... I mean, Actor Ki — what are you doing here at this hour?"

At Choi Yoona's words, Ki Seongchan, who had opened the door and come in, let out a short laugh.

"You're doing me like this? After everything between us? Hey, that actually hurts, you know? I watched you grow up from this high, and now it's 'Actor Ki'?"

Grinning brightly, Ki Seongchan dropped into the chair in front of the CEO's desk with a solid thud.

"You've got a lot on your mind too, huh?"

"What brings you here at this hour? Did you just wrap filming?"

"Yeah. Whew, I'm beat. I was so tired I should've gone straight home, but the lights were on in the CEO's office on my way out, so I came up. Company's strapped — figured we should at least save on the electric bill."

It was more than just having known her since she was little. He was a genuinely good person. That was why he was still here at this company. And looking at him made her feel so sorry she kept wanting to hide.

He was the cash cow earning money for this place. Or maybe more than that. He was, in essence, the ox — the one plowing this company's fields all alone, holding everything up.

"You were... heading home alone?"

"Ah, well, Team Leader Park is tired too, you know. I told him to go on ahead."

"......"

"Seeing your face is enough. Whew, I'm insanely busy. You know that too, right?"

"......"

"I'm going. Get home already. Don't wreck your health. If you push yourself just because you're fine now, you'll pay for it when you're older."

She had a mouth and could not use it.

Choi Yoona still could not answer the rising Ki Seongchan, and so he opened his mouth again.

"I'm doing well these days. Making more money, too — you know that, right? Variety pays surprisingly well, you know? Wait, should I even say surprisingly? More like blatantly?"

A lead actor who had bombed three projects in a row.

And still the biggest cash cow this company had. Why?

He was thriving on variety shows. Tags like gukbap actor and "an actor who's better at variety" had been plastered all over him, one after another.

"Oppa. I mean — Actor Ki Seongchan."

At Choi Yoona's firm tone, Ki Seongchan started to brush it off as a joke, then met her eyes with a serious face.

"What is it, Di.rec.tor. Choi. Yoo.na."

"Would you... like to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠look at some projects together?"

"...Ah, forget it. Who am I to. Let me squeeze a little more out of variety first. We can think about it slowly later. I shouldn't have come. Telling someone who's making good money to go do a project — I'm really leaving. You go in too."

Then, hand on the door, Ki Seongchan hesitated a moment and spoke one last time.

"Can I even say I want to do it anymore... The good ones don't come anyway. Variety shows, though — the good ones keep coming."

It took a week.

To read every piece of project material I had brought in, check the success or failure of each work with the Ghost, and sort them all.

Ironically, the fact that I had never been particularly close to popular culture turned out to be a considerable help.

About two-thirds of the materials I had brought were for projects that had already finished filming. But I had no idea whether they had aired or been released, so I evaluated them the same way as everything else. Thanks to that, I could quickly compare prediction against result.

This Ghost.

He was far more capable than I had expected.

"Whew... even I'm this tired, and your stamina is really something. Staying up all night analyzing materials, catching a nap, then going to work without dropping the ball on company business... You were born with a manager's constitution."

The Ghost mixed complaints and praise together without much order. I was not at a level that warranted praise, so I told him as much.

"If I think about going through materials ahead of a National Assembly audit, I've done worse than this. I'm used to this much."

They called it a lot, but it was one large box's worth. If I had gone through it purely on my own, without the Ghost's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠corrections and lectures, it would have taken much less time. It took a whole week because I was studying while getting an extra helping of my tutor's nagging.

"It's a shame there aren't any leftover synopses, though."

Leftover synopses?

The phrasing was a little funny.

"Do synopses usually get left over?"

"It's the opposite. What we looked at are the leftover synopses. The ones actively in pre-production and actually being cast right now will be in the hands of the actors or their assigned managers."

"So if we start considering a new project for Ha Eun-yul... that's when we'll get to see new synopses."

"That's right. Even as a road manager, our company would show them to you to help you develop your eye..."

Listening to the Ghost, I smoothly turned the wheel and pulled out of the company parking lot.

And then.

"Ah, crap! You scared me! I have trauma from a car accident..."

"You said you don't even remember it."

"Still. The body reacts first, you know. That's what trauma is."

Anyway.

Just as the Ghost said, a car shot past us at high speed and into the company parking lot.

"Who is that, though?"

Yeah.

They looked like they were in a huge hurry.