Green Lights and the Reluctant Veteran
By the time I arrived at the office in the morning, everything had suddenly kicked into high gear.
The finance team's approval had come through along with the casting budget, and Eum Sung-hyun's lead casting was greenlit too.
Of course, there wasn't any official document stating something like "We hereby approve rookie actor Eum Sung-hyun for the lead role."
But it did mention that, upon request from a CE, they could provide static and dynamic acting training support for the lead actor if needed.
What else could that be referring to if not Eum Sung-hyun's situation?
On top of that, there was a directive from the head CE to have the total CE personally handle the supporting actor casting, taking the lead actor's circumstances into account.
It was safe to say Eum Sung-hyun's casting was officially approved.
"...Hyun-woo."
"Yeah."
"Be honest. You're from a chaebol family, right? Undercover heir eyeing the entertainment side?"
"Was it that obvious?"
"No, but you're too much of a one-suit gentleman for that..."
Was this sudden weak-spot probing?
"Is even that part of your commoner cosplay?"
Chae Seo-hee spouted nonsense like that, radical enough to make her search for the Do family chaebol on the spot.
For reference, SSK had set Eum Sung-hyun's per-episode fee at 5 million won.
It was an awfully ambiguous amount.
On Tvic's scale, a total newbie appearing in an OTT supporting role would get 300,000 to 800,000 won per shooting day.
For a substantial supporting role, they switch to a per-episode contract, which could climb to 1.5 to 2.5 million.
Of course, if it was someone a major agency was specially grooming as a star, it could be negotiated higher.
But that was for supporting roles.
There were no cases of total newbies landing leads, so Eum Sung-hyun's fee had become the industry benchmark for "what a total newbie lead would cost."
Whether any other cases like his would pop up was anyone's guess.
A bit disappointing, though.
Personally, since he was the protagonist with heavy screen time, I figured they could stretch to 8 million...
5 million times 8 episodes was 40 million.
The supporting roles probably wouldn't stray far from that ballpark either.
Normally, there'd be a clear pay gap between leads and supports, but Eum Sung-hyun's case was special.
This was shaping up to be Tvic's third-cheapest production in history by appearance fees.
"Well, whatever, it went through..."
"'Whatever' rubs me the wrong way a bit."
"Now we cast the supporting actors, right?"
Was it just my imagination, or had Chae Seo-hee been saying whatever she wanted lately?
"Yeah. I'll get moving right away. Chae CE, could you scout art teams on standby?"
"Why the art team?"
Assembling directing, cinematography, and lighting crews wasn't too tough.
Plus, directing would likely come from director Jung Hee-soo's own network, since he was already locked in.
But art teams were the exception.
Under the art director's command, they handled sets, props, and special effects—and if you were unlucky, good luck finding one.
Even as an actor, I'd seen shoots delayed on day one because of art team issues more than once.
SSK had deep networks and internal staff, so they wouldn't face that, but still, better to move fast.
Chae Seo-hee nodded at my words.
"Approved. As expected from an ex-actor—you know your stuff."
"Was that a test?"
"Not a test, just checking how much I need to observe and support."
"Feels like a test..."
"I'll secure the art team on time somehow. But you take me with you for supporting casting."
"Why?"
"Why? I wanna recharge my energy, that's why."
Energy?
"Scouting desperate unknown actors dying for a shot? That's when I'm most pumped."
Before scouting supporting actors, I met with the writers first.
Separate from handing over full casting authority, I needed to tell them who'd been cast as the lead.
I braced for some pushback.
No matter how detached they were from casting, Eum Sung-hyun was an unexpectedly wild choice.
But...
"Doesn't matter to us."
The writers' reaction to my detailed rundown of the circumstances was surprisingly chill.
Chill enough to make me double-take.
"Why not?"
"You picked him, Do CE. Even with the company against it? Even after Kim Ra-un showed up?"
I hadn't meant to bring up Kim Ra-un, but figured they'd hear rumors and get offended if I skipped it.
"Yes. I chose Eum Sung-hyun."
"Then he's gotta be good."
"You know how much work you've put into our project. No way you'd shove in a disaster casting."
Uh...
Grateful, sure, but was this level of trust okay?
"And honestly? I like it. A total newbie lead."
"Me too. Feels kinda special."
"Want to see the camera test footage at least...?"
"I'm good. I wanna see it first in the final cut. Sang-hoon, watch if you want."
"I'll wait for the real thing too."
"OTT doesn't have live broadcasts, dude."
"Don't nitpick words."
And that was it.
After that, we just chatted idly and I left.
"Hyun-woo. What the hell did you do?"
"What do you mean?"
"First time seeing writers this into a director."
"I didn't do anything. They're just nice guys."
"Nah. They don't vent petty gripes, but they hate directors."
"Director hate?"
"You know Gongbeomche's history. How many versions? And revisions per version?"
True.
After that process, no way they'd like directors.
But why me?
Because of my ideas?
Either way, getting the writers' buy-in without issue was worth celebrating.
Now we'd cleared what I thought was a big mountain—but was really just a small hill—and could dive into supporting casting.
"Where to?"
"Happy Home Ent first."
"Appointment set?"
"Of course."
"That damn kid isn't with our agency anymore...!"
His face screamed don't come back, but...
Tvic business cards carried weight.
"...Call this number directly."
Makes sense. Happy Home wasn't a huge agency.
They wouldn't want to leave a bad taste with OTT staff.
"Thanks."
"But you're casting small supporting roles? We have plenty of great actors here."
"Just lightly reviewing for image fit. Wanted to check faces."
"Then the role's for someone in their 30s? Our 30s lineup holds up against big agencies..."
The Happy Home team lead kept pitching his actors, shoving profiles at me as we chatted amiably.
I only wanted So Jeong-hoon, but no need to say it.
Even family feels the pinch when cousins buy land. Learning a terminated actor was up for the #2 role? That'd sting.
In that smooth vibe, I tossed it out casually.
"So, did actor So Jeong-hoon switch agencies?"
"No way. Who'd pay a termination fee for such a middling actor? We kept him from newbie days out of pity."
"Then...?"
"He quit acting."
My long unknown-actor days let me read between the lines.
No way he'd rage that hard over a simple quit.
Happy Home must've pitched something he refused.
Probably re-enactment gigs, ero roles, or cheap YouTube content gigs.
Whatever it was, clearly a role that'd ruin any shot at normal acting.
D.P never pulled that on me, but aging unknowns dealt with it all the time.
"I'll be in touch."
Out of Happy Home, I called So Jeong-hoon—no answer.
"Not picking up?"
"Nope."
"Now what?"
"Seo-hee, hand over those profiles from earlier."
Sure enough, the 30s actors batch included So Jeong-hoon's name and details.
Mass-printed file—no time to edit yet.
"Cheongsu Theater troupe."
"Ah, Cheongsu. In Sinchon?"
"Yeah. Let's go. Most actors live nearby."
Chae Seo-hee and I took a taxi to Sinchon.
"I'll grab drinks. Check if the troupe door's open first?"
"Huh? We can go together."
"Round trip to the convenience store's 20 minutes."
"Then drop the taxi there."
"This hill's a killer to climb. Better one at a time. Weather's cold too."
"Hmm, that's cheating with that face."
"What is?"
"Consideration that natural?"
"Biggest weapon my mom left me. Doesn't work on senior Joo Young-hoon, though."
Chae Seo-hee burst out with a weird "pffahaha" at my joke.
"I'll head ahead. Get the actor's home address from staff if they're there."
"Got it."
After sending her off, I loaded up on drinks and snacks at the convenience store.
Remembered how nice it was when outsiders brought food to the troupe.
Not my money—project funds—so I splurged.
Arms happily heavy, I reached Cheongsu Theater...
"I told you, I'm retired!"
"W-wait! Our head is coming!"
"Doesn't matter who's coming—my decision stands."
Chae Seo-hee was pleading desperately with a scowling So Jeong-hoon.
Then she spotted me.
"Hyun-woo!"
He snapped to, rushing over with a business card—but no need.
"...Aren't you actor Do Hyun-woo?"
So Jeong-hoon was grinning like we'd reunited.