Action 2. Jinxing It to Fail
D.P, the premier actor management agency, boasted an incredibly diverse roster of talent.
A lineup of reliable supporting actors who fit any role and cranked out 2-3 projects a year like clockwork, cash cows through and through.
Rookie actors earning acclaim for their skills and looks in the indie scene, now gunning for rising star status in Chungmuro.
And top-tier talents who cherry-picked projects so meticulously that investors lined up just for their name alone.
Truly, a vast and varied stable of actors.
But if you asked who the true pillars of D.P were, everyone would name the same three without hesitation.
Seo Jae-yeon, the one 20-something actress with the chops to claim the top spot in Chungmuro.
Choi Jae-hyeok, the Hallyu superstar whose every project exploded into a mega-hit.
And Kim Ra-un, the trendiest star whose every outfit sparked endless breakdowns and analysis.
The fact that all three were under the same roof was lineup so absurd it bordered on ridiculous.
But if you judged them purely as actors rather than stars, Kim Ra-un lagged behind Seo Jae-yeon and Choi Jae-hyeok in name value.
He shone brightest as a star, but as an actor, he felt just a touch short?
That was Kim Ra-un's complex, his one glaring deficiency...
"What the hell is this?"
Back from a commercial shoot in Paris, he discovered an astonishing script at the agency.
Titled Gongbeomche.
Ko Sang-wook, team leader of Actor Team 1, tilted his head as he entered the office.
Kim Ra-un was plopped in his chair, devouring a script with intense focus.
"What're you doing?"
"Oh, Team Leader Ko."
"Didn't you just fly in from Paris yesterday? Why're you at the agency?"
"Jet lag had me hanging on for a day. Got a ton of morning schedules starting next week."
"Aigoo, reading scripts in that state?"
"I came here thinking I was too wiped to hold out otherwise, but..."
Kim Ra-un set the script down.
"What's this? It snapped me right awake."
Only then did Ko Sang-wook realize it was the Gongbeomche script.
"You know Hyun-woo, right?"
"Do Hyun-woo? Of course."
Ko Sang-wook's brow furrowed slightly.
"Hyun-woo's a year older than you, isn't he?"
"Aish, not this again. Hyun-woo's fine with it."
"Dodging?"
"Got it. Why bring up Hyun-woo hyung?"
"It's a script he's developing. Retired from acting and joined Tvic."
"Tvic? The OTT company?"
"Yeah."
"So Hyun-woo hyung's shopping the script around to agencies?"
Not wrong, but Ko Sang-wook caught the subtle shade in the wording.
A fresh hire running errands—does 'developing' even fit?
"You picking up Jang's attitude too?"
"Pardon?"
"Jang's capable, sure, but don't start turning elitist like him. You know this industry—nobody knows what tomorrow brings."
"...Sorry."
"You can mouth off at home all you want, but not out here."
Watching Kim Ra-un bow his head deeply, Ko Sang-wook couldn't help thinking the kid had no sense of boundaries.
After 5-6 years in the same agency, you usually figured out someone's true colors, but Kim Ra-un? Still a mystery.
Not that he was shady or sleazy—no way.
During packed promo seasons, sleep-deprived and grinding through brutal schedules, true natures slipped out. Kim Ra-un was just a good guy.
His dejection wasn't an act.
Sure enough, Kim Ra-un shook off the awkwardness with a grin and a joke.
"Man, seriously. Why do you only like Hyun-woo hyung? He left the agency—you gotta look after me now!"
"You got Jang who adores you."
"Jang's the cool city guy, you're the hot rural hunk!"
"I was born in Dobong-gu—never left Seoul."
With that quick quip, the tension evaporated. Kim Ra-un turned serious.
"So, which role's on offer here?"
"Child actors."
"Child actors?"
"You haven't gotten that far yet, but it flashes back to their youth. Adults can cover high school, but elementary and middle? No dice."
"...Who's the lead?"
"Feeling greedy for the protagonist?"
"Yeah. Dead serious."
Ko Sang-wook pondered for a beat.
Kim Ra-un was a solid actor and a decent human.
A bit unpredictable, but no bad blood there.
Problem was his manager, Jang Gi-un. Ko Sang-wook despised him.
Deep down, he suspected Jang's vicious words had driven Do Hyun-woo to retire.
If Kim Ra-un got cast, it'd mean Jang working with Do Hyun-woo...
If Ra-un lands it, Hyun-woo can handle a little grit. His filmography starts stacked.
He'd heard it all from Sung Tae-chang.
How Do Hyun-woo ended up solo CE, the weight on his shoulders for this project.
Ko Sang-wook made up his mind.
"Script's killer, I'll give you that. Blew me away too. But too many red flags."
"Like what?"
"Rookie writers, director who's bombed two dramas, fresh retiree ex-actor as head director."
"...Hyun-woo hyung's the head director?"
"Ridiculous, right? Caught me off guard. Budget's razor-thin too—4 billion per episode, underbudgeted."
Tvic might bump it if Kim Ra-un signed, but first, gauge the kid's resolve.
"Still want in?"
"Guarantee doesn't matter. I wanna play a role that proves I'm a real actor."
"Then go convince Jang first."
"I just say yes and it's done? No lead locked in?"
"There is. But..."
Ko Sang-wook let out a heavy sigh.
"It's a casting so jinxed, it's like they're holding a ritual for it to flop."
What a dynamic week.
Exactly one month on the job today, and somehow every week felt like a rollercoaster.
Week one: Snagged an abandoned contest script after getting iced by a senior.
Week two: Lived an unbelievable superpower firsthand.
Week three: Nailed down Hyun-tae from the script after twists and turns...
"That's him? Do Hyun-woo?"
"Yeah, sure looks the part. Handsome as hell."
"Why's he settling old no-name grudges on company dime? What the hell's Joo Young-hoon thinking?"
"Hey, I can hear you."
Week four onward: Nonstop backstabbing chatter.
All because I submitted the protagonist casting report.
Funny part? Joo Young-hoon senior approved it with a bemused laugh, but it got blocked upstairs.
"You know what? We just made Tvic history again."
Sung Tae-chang kept saying that, and now Chae Seo-hee popped up out of nowhere too.
Should I save her as "Seo-stat window" in my phone?
Weird?
Seo-hee stat window then?
"What history did we originally make?"
"First project with full control to an assistant CE."
"And the new one?"
"Senior OKs it, but finance shoots it down."
"Not shot down yet. Under review."
"Exactly why they're reviewing. Even finance is like, 'Huh? Glitch? Internal scam?' That's how insane the casting is. They usually rubber-stamp senior approvals."
"Not that bad, right? You saw the camera test too, Seo-hee."
"Yeah. Jaw-dropping. The hazy Hyun-tae I pictured from the script showed up fully formed."
But Chae Seo-hee shook her head.
"Cast leads on acting alone? Then why don't theater actors snag protagonists?"
I knew.
That's why the office whispered about me getting revenge for my no-name days on company time.
But I was certain.
Choosing Eum Sung-hyun wasn't over-immersion in underdogs or vicarious failure-overcoming.
Simply no one could embody Hyun-tae better.
Was his acting perfect? Not quite.
Huge potential, but still green?
Dialogue delivery had frequent flubs.
But after weekend run-throughs, acting worries vanished.
Eum Sung-hyun didn't act—he became the script's character.
If he immersed fully, he'd match the Hyun-tae I saw in the script 100%.
I got Chae Seo-hee's concern, though.
She didn't know the caliber of project I envisioned.
"Eh, it'll work out."
"Someone else's project?"
"Meaning worry won't change it. Decision stands."
"Ugh, seriously..."
"Anyway, supporting cast stalled 'cause lead's hung up."
Chae Seo-hee, glaring daggers, sighed.
"Decision by end of day."
"How do you know?"
"Overheard finance chatting in the cafeteria."
Definitely Seo-stat window.
Log +10 hearing or something.
Such idle thoughts, when the company messenger pinged—a summons for me.
Finance meeting.
Attendees: Me, Joo Young-hoon senior, finance head...
"R-Representative? Our SSK CEO?"
"...Looks like."
"Hyun-woo, don't get fired. Rent rabbit and fox-like living costs await at home! Go beg forgiveness!"
"Forgiveness for what."
Slipping on my jacket from the chair, I stood. Across the room, Joo Young-hoon rose too.
"Lead the way."
We entered the assigned conference room last.
CEO Han Sung-hoon and the finance head were already seated.
Coffee cups suggested they'd pre-gamed round one.
"Hello. CL Team 3 Assistant CE Do Hyun-woo."
"Nice to meet you, Do CE. Sit."
SSK's Han Sung-hoon, whom I'd only seen in photos, looked younger than expected.
Mid-40s? Late?
Impeccable tie, spotless suit, gleaming shoes screamed meticulous, but his face was surprisingly soft.
"The reason I called you two here..."
Then a familiar face burst through the door.
"Chae CE, what's with the rudeness?"
Chae Seo-hee bowed repeatedly at Joo Young-hoon's rebuke.
"Sorry. CEO, Senior. A guest's here for Do CE—super urgent."
"Tell 'em to wait. Can't you see we're with the CEO?"
"Special guest, that's why the rush. Chae CE, right?"
"Yes. CL Team 3 Assistant CE Chae Seo-hee. Sorry for barging in."
"Who's looking for Do CE?"
"Uh, actor Kim Ra-un with his D.P manager."
"Actor Kim Ra-un? What's the business?"
"He wants the Gongbeomche lead..."
All eyes snapped to me.