Nothing to Worry About
An ending matters every bit as much as a beginning.
No matter how beautiful the journey, imagine someone hurling their resignation in the boss's face on their last day, then dumping a bucket of filth over the office on their way out.
You can picture that person's reputation without anyone having to say a word.
Just as the articles announcing Ki Seongchan's casting as the lead in Kind Police were finally winding down, a new wave hit.
The departure articles they'd prepared dropped one after another.
"Heh... finally feels like I'm actually working."
PR Manager Kim Nakyung laced her fingers, stretched her arms out in front of her, and held it.
"They're starting to copy the departure articles now, Manager."
From the next desk, Assistant Manager Kwak Eunji was spinning her mouse wheel like it owed her money, the words coming out half to herself. Kim Nakyung's face turned toward her.
"What's the tone?"
"The original articles were positive, so everyone's writing it nice. Real nice."
"That's Urakkai for you."
Kim Nakyung's voice carried a thin edge of contempt.
The truth was, a few years in entertainment PR — especially inside a talent agency — and you lost any ability to think well of the entertainment press. Under the noble banner of "journalism," they flung their fingers around with such reckless abandon that she'd been fed up more times than she could count.
Sometimes they wrote fiction. Sometimes they took a sliver of truth and dumped MSG all over it. And sometimes they packed the whole thing with malice.
The ones Kim Nakyung ranked at the very bottom of that species were the ones who wrote articles from their chairs. The Urakkai crowd. Not reporters from proper news organizations — the internet-outlet kind.
They didn't report. Someone else wrote a story, and they copied it. And because they were late, they wrote it more sensationally, chasing clicks.
Anyway.
People liked to say entertainment reporters these days wrote like they were possessed by spite, all malice and provocation — but even so, there was such a thing as the first current. Give it time, and the hit pieces on Ki Seongchan would pour in. The flow was running the right way for now, that was all. Sooner or later someone would turn the tap, and once they did, the vicious articles would come flooding.
Kim Nakyung blamed her own worn-out imagination and asked a short question about whatever Kwak Eunji was monitoring.
"How's the community reacting?"
"The community... isn't exactly being kind."
"Stick to variety, what's he doing in a drama — that it?"
Kwak Eunji clapped her free hand over her mouth.
"How did you...?"
"Of course that's the reaction. I'm not saying it's right that they're trashing our actor, but that's just how the communities are."
Kim Nakyung's hand found her long-cold cup of coffee. She took a light sip.
"You can't have it all. And we're not in a position to, anyway."
"Still, it's a relief there's no noise at all from the variety shows he's leaving. It's usually hard to wrap things up this smoothly, right? Those people have their pride too."
"Right. They could easily have said we were throwing our weight around just because we're the actor's side. Or complained about a lack of communication because we notified them on short notice."
As she said it, Kim Nakyung's eyes rolled toward the conference room, her neck following.
Inside were Team Leader Park Munsu, Team Leader Lee Jaewook, actor Ki Seongchan, General Manager Kim Misook, and even Director Choi Yoona. A full house. Five people, though it seemed oddly quiet for that.
A smile tugged at the corner of Kim Nakyung's mouth.
"The Inspector was running himself ragged, I hear."
"Ah... so that's why he looked like a drowned rat earlier...?"
"Mm. Calls came in from all over. They said they'd wrapped things up nicely with Team Leader Park, so whenever we start the departure articles on our end, they'll put theirs out too. Positive ones, of course."
Kwak Eunji's eyes followed Kim Nakyung's toward the conference room.
"But the Inspector — he was always the hardworking type, right? Hardworking and nothing else?"
"He was, wasn't he?"
They did the same work, so they felt it the same way — and as PR and marketing, they felt it more. The type whose actions ran way out ahead of him, but who was sloppy around the edges. Exhausting, in his own way. He'd leave things out, then turn around and demand to know why an article hadn't gone up. More than once.
Kim Nakyung's gaze shifted from Park Munsu to Lee Jaewook.
"I'm talking about Team Leader Lee."
"Sorry? Oh. Yes."
"Is he actually a gaming shut-in?"
"Ah... um... why?"
"It's weird, isn't it? Three months in and he's already a manager and a Team Leader. Sure, Baek Sungwook getting fired played a part — but he cut him down with his own hands, didn't he? There's... something there. I can feel it."
Kwak Eunji laughed, incredulous.
"Didn't you say dating 'that type' would be a disaster?"
"Who? Me?"
"...Oh, for crying out loud, Manager."
"Just keep watching him. There's something there. I can feel it. That pale skin of his has this aristocratic air."
Same time. Same place. On the other side of a glass partition, in the conference room.
"Ah... I probably shouldn't say this, but... they're really putting on a show..."
At the Ghost's words, I drew a circle on the paper lying on the table — agreement.
"Munsu... I'm sorry. I misunderstood you..."
"Don't say that. I should have known ahead of time..."
Ki Seongchan and Park Munsu.
Two men whose ages combined well exceeded sixty, holding hands. Tightly.
Is this normal? Are people in the arts just this emotionally rich?
"Ahem... I'll... just step out first."
Director Choi Yoona, who'd been rambling about cherry blossoms, seemed to have come back to her senses. She hid her embarrassed face and left the conference room.
"What? Why don't you two just move in together while you're at it?"
General Manager Kim Misook snorted, radiating the presence of a woman who'd seen it all. Thank god there was at least one sane person in here. Thanks to her, two fully grown men came to their senses just before the tears started rolling.
"Anyway... thank you. Let's grab a drink sometime and talk properly."
"Yes... of course."
"What? Keep going. Go on, plant one on him. Do that Western thing — rub cheeks together."
"......"
"......"
"I thought I was watching the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl meeting on the magpie bridge. Why'd you stop?"
Then she shot me a look. A small thing, but my estimation of General Manager Kim Misook ticked up a notch. They each had their flaws, but their merits were revealing themselves one after another, every bit a match.
I broke the silence she had given me.
"Ki Seongchan. I wanted to go over your upcoming schedule."
His eyes moved between me and Team Leader Park Munsu.
"You did say earlier that you couldn't work with Team Leader Park anymore."
"No... that was, ah... I got a little carried away..."
This man really does have a certain charm. As a man, finding yourself immediately well-disposed toward another man isn't easy — but between the handsome, kind face and the person himself, he was clean. Pure. These are things I don't have, I suppose.
I answered with a faint smile.
"That was a joke. I'm currently in charge of Ha Eun-yul. Team Leader Park was tied up with other matters, so I attended the casting meeting with Sun & Pictures. I received the briefing, which is why I'll lay out the basic framework and then step back."
"Ah... I see."
"The look of relief on your face, with me sitting right here, is a little hurtful. I'm quite capable, you know."
"Ah, that's not what I — I'm sorry. My emotions ran a bit high today. I can't seem to get a handle on them. Honestly."
"It's fine. That was a joke as well."
At that, all three people in the room, General Manager Kim Misook included, looked rather thrown.
"How do you tell a joke without changing your expression even once?"
The Ghost scolded me for no good reason too. Enough. Let's get to the point. I continued in my usual even tone.
"As I mentioned, the variety shows will wrap up in sequence within the next week. After that, we start diet management. You've been doing mostly variety, so the regimen's been a little loose, hasn't it?"
"Sounds good."
"We'll build the body and run action school in parallel, and we'll run both hard. We still have a fair amount of time before filming starts. That's why we decided to pull you from the variety shows early."
A clear will etched itself into Ki Seongchan's eyes. He was an actor, through and through. Until the two of them grabbed hands and dove into a tearjerker, I'd thought we'd just picked up another handsome fool. He was different.
"Will there be shower scenes and the like?"
"If you build the body well enough, you could always ask the writer yourself. I don't know yet whether there will be any."
"Hmm...!"
"Whether you handle the action yourself will be the production's call, based on your results at action school. You'd know this better than I do, of course, but using as few stunt doubles as possible would look better on camera."
"Yes. Let's do that."
Ki Seongchan's eager eyes found mine. There was something in them that struck a spark on my side as well. This man was like a flame. If his manager was fire itself, then Ki Seongchan was the kind who hid his passion behind a smile.
"Why are you smiling?"
Ki Seongchan asked. Apparently the smile on my face had deepened.
I held out the bound draft the production company had given me, and stood.
"You two are a lot alike."
I said it and left the conference room. And for some reason, Ha Eun-yul came to mind.
The next day, I met Ha Eun-yul in the morning as her manager, took her to set, and stayed through the shoot.
The usual, in other words. Except Ha Eun-yul was... quite different today.
The set of Melancholy Romance.
"Cut! Ah... this is... hmm..."
Director Ha Tae-jong called cut, then cleared his throat. And then:
"Lighting. Put a few more reflectors on Najin's side. Crank up the LED intensity. Get some real light on her."
Ha Tae-jong, the main PD of Melancholy Romance, was famous for keeping a gentle atmosphere on set. A shadow had fallen across that man's face.
I watched from among the crew. Just because someone called cut didn't mean you barged onto the set to check on your actor. And it wouldn't have been good practice anyway.
This was one of those moments. Even after the director called cut, the flow of the shoot was still going.
"Director. Hold on a second. A word."
DP Hyeon Jongdeok spoke up, then hauled his substantial frame over. The two of them put their heads together and started conferring about something.
"What's with Eun-yul today...?"
I didn't answer the Ghost. I just looked at Ha Eun-yul, standing in front of the bus stop, quietly running her lines.
Today's scene, in brief, went like this.
Male lead Kim Jin and female lead Moon Najin — two youth stars who already had fandoms of their own. Calling them "youth stars" made me feel older than I cared to admit, but borrowing the Ghost's phrase, that was what they were. The scene was a three-way clash between those two and Ha Eun-yul, the female lead's rival.
In the story, the male lead is the sole grandson of T Group's third generation, hiding his identity while working a part-time job. The female lead doesn't know who he is, and they're growing closer. In the middle of all that bickering, they wait for the bus together at a bus stop. Ha Eun-yul — Yoo Byulna, in the drama — knows his identity, and pretends to run into the two of them at the stop by chance.
Her job is to get in their way.
I shifted my position, close enough to catch the conversation between Director Ha Tae-jong and DP Hyeon Jongdeok. At a sensible distance, of course, and with some discretion.
The reason DP Hyeon Jongdeok had gotten up was to protest the request for more light.
"I just shoot. Dump more light on her here and her face is going to blow out white. Fix it in post. It'd be better."
No matter how much the main director was king on set, a DP of Hyeon Jongdeok's caliber could speak his mind. At that, Director Ha Tae-jong's face crumpled.
"Just a little more, DP Hyeon. Please."
"Who said I wasn't capturing her? We didn't even put a bounce board on Ha Eun-yul, and so what? She's still winning. Stick them next to each other and the difference is instant."
Director Ha Tae-jong's eyes darted around, checking whether anyone from Moon Najin's side was within earshot.
"Or should we shift the camera position just a little?"
"Come on. No. This is the best angle and you know it."
"Then please, work with the lights we've got and make it happen. I don't care if the female lead is playing a part-timer. The female lead has to pop. The supporting actress who's supposed to be getting in the way shouldn't be the one stealing the frame."
I'd heard enough. I walked back to where I'd been.
And there, up ahead, Ha Eun-yul was still running her lines.
Well.
Ha Eun-yul was pretty — that much was true. But was she overwhelmingly prettier than Moon Najin, the lead? Honestly, I didn't think it was a contest worth ranking. Beauty was subjective to begin with; you couldn't line people up and score them.
Ha Eun-yul had Ha Eun-yul's particular strengths. I'd never gone out of my way to appraise another actress, but I'd thought Moon Najin had a beauty of her own as well.
"See? Today really is different."
The Ghost muttered behind me again. He was right.
At least for today, Ha Eun-yul's beauty had exploded.
"Moon Najin... I can feel her boiling from all the way over here..."
"I doubt it'll be anything serious."
I answered quietly. The Ghost gave a small shake of his head.
"You don't know what you're talking about. Sparks are going to fly any minute now."
"Mm."
"The thing actresses hate more than anything is getting destroyed in the same frame."
But... was that really the thing they hated most? There was such a thing as the role in the story.