No Fairy Tales in Production
During my acting days, I'd had those kinds of fantasies.
Some hugely promising writer or director gets totally fixated on me.
Even if everyone screams that this no-name actor won't cut it, they just can't let go.
I get cast, hard-carry the project, and everyone gets their happy ending.
Wouldn't that be the most dramatic thing an actor could experience?
But the moment I became a producer myself, I realized the truth.
Reality doesn't run on romance alone.
Agent Secret.
An eight-member boy group with a secret agent concept.
Their agency? M2M.
A place I'd never even heard of.
Googling the group or agency name turns up next to nothing.
But one name pops up in the related searches—familiar.
Tune.
A variety show regular who'd started blowing up lately.
So, to sum it up:
Not even third-string—a total flop boy group.
One member with zero popularity to speak of.
That was the Hyun-tae I saw in the script.
Stage name...
Unpack.
What the hell kind of names are these?
Anyway, five years in, no solo TV appearances, just music shows.
Hell, they didn't even land any this year.
The latest single? Didn't even promote it.
"Haa."
This came from a close assistant director: Directors are more lenient with idols than you'd think.
Not just capitalist logic.
"Hey, in front of the lens, an idol beats some half-assed theater kid any day."
Idols live their whole lives on camera.
They have a natural sense of how their actions come across through the lens.
Pure acting chops? Theater actors win hands down. But on camera? Idols have the edge.
So I had no bias against idols...
But this guy's just a normie!
Meeting him at that cafe by the station felt like a miracle.
No acting experience, even.
"Ah, I'm losing my mind."
"What's got you so worked up?"
"Ah, shit. You scared me. When'd you get here?"
"Just now. Sneaked in quiet to mess with you, but your face looked so wrecked I held back."
Sung Tae-chang appeared out of nowhere, but damn if the timing wasn't perfect.
This guy's way senior to me in the OTT world.
"Sung Tae-chang, as expected."
"What's eating you?"
If it weren't Sung Tae-hyung, I'd have sugarcoated it. But I just laid it all out.
A flop idol who can't even book music shows.
But the image fits like a glove.
Acting potential's unknown, but somehow I don't think he'll bomb.
"What do you think?"
"Facts or jokes first?"
"Joke."
"You into guys? Falling for him? Hyun-woo realizes his curiosity for this random flop isn't so simple?"
"Whoa, shit. Good line today?"
"Don't mention it."
"Facts then?"
Sung Tae-hyung shrugged.
"Better than a total normie, right? Gives him 1%... no, 3% shot. Run phased auditions, camera tests, then decide. Cinderella stories sell in marketing."
"If he's an idol?"
"Hell no. The tragedy of flops? No fame, but all the bias sticks."
"Misunderstanding?"
"Yeah. 'Cast 'cause he's an idol, agency invested in production'—rumors fly. No chops to flip it instantly? Even good acting gets called wooden. Especially for something artsy like Criminal Community."
"Fact-check and they'd know it's not popularity."
"Out of 100 reporters, maybe 5 check facts. 10% of those get buried upfront. Clicks on that?"
10 out of 5.
Mind-bending math.
"Know what headlines hit from there?"
"What?"
"Shock: Tvic CE Do Hyun-woo in forbidden love with flop idol."
"You bastard."
"Cut the bullshit. Don't skimp—scout A-listers. Hot actors who feel underrated despite looks."
"Kim Ra-un?"
"Too S-grade?"
"Tae-woong or Jeon Su-hyuk then?"
"Perfect tier. Approach them, odds might surprise you."
Script talk sparked my curiosity.
"Hyung, wanna read this?"
"Revision? First draft?"
"Nah. Final. Dialogue might need tweaks."
"Final?"
Sung Tae-chang looked puzzled but started reading.
Personally, he's the best script reader I've met in the industry.
Back as my manager, we clashed a ton.
I chased perfect narrative; he chased mass appeal.
Now in OTT? He's always right.
Wanted his take.
He didn't finish.
Blazing speed-read through Act 2, then shot me a look.
"Hey, promise me."
"What?"
"You'll stack it with A-grade—no, S-grade leads."
"Not sure yet."
"Promise. Please. I'll shove all the credit down your throat with my RCE pull."
"Haven't decided."
"Ah, I'll properly screw over Joo Young-hoon for real."
"Nah."
"Yeah, you hate that senior."
"More important than hating seniors: making the project succeed."
"To succeed, stack S-grades! Few OTT platforms—fans follow stars."
Sung Tae-chang pushed like a colonial cop, but no firm yes from me.
I want S-grades too.
But I still couldn't drop Unpack...
Shit, the name.
Couldn't drop script-Hyun-tae.
That cafe guy was exactly the Hyun-tae I'd been hunting.
My stubbornness won out.
"Stubborn bastard. Say you'll view S-grades more positively—at 51%!"
"Ah, why obsess like this?"
Summoned by the Korean branch, Joo Young-hoon strode into the building with a stiff face.
Last place he wanted to be.
Kim Seong-tae—the bastard who called him—would be there.
But with HQ director attending, no refusing.
What's this about?
That Do Hyun-woo punk whining?
Nah.
No way HQ director mobilizes over backtalk.
Wild thoughts swirling as he entered the meeting—surprisingly mundane.
SSK CL Team 3 performance and future plans.
Just odd why not rep or Team 1 lead, but him...
"Sorry, Senior Joo. Thought you were still Korean branch head."
Simple American director mix-up.
Director called Korean head: Joo Young-hoon.
Current head: Kim Seong-tae.
"How'd you end up onsite?"
"Missed the production grind."
"Oh, romantic choice."
His demotion never reached HQ—a local matter—so the director's nicety was routine.
Last year's results reported; Joo Young-hoon's shoulders squared.
CL Team 3: flawless.
Few projects, low revenue—but top profit margins among labels.
Then, Criminal Community.
"Criminal Community. Contest entry, right?"
"Yes."
"HQ wants shooting this year..."
"Wrap setup this year, start early next for sure. Branch head dispatched dedicated staff."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes. On-site calls first, report later for speed."
"Good."
Joo Young-hoon glanced at Kim Seong-tae.
Same poker face, but a bitter smile tugged.
Knew you'd pull this.
That all-knowing vibe irked him.
Kim was probably worried too.
Landed a hit, meeting ended—then Kim spoke up.
"Senior Joo Young-hoon."
"What?"
"Normal to give full authority to a newbie assistant CE? Or political?"
"How'd you know? Chatting often?"
"Don't dodge."
"Sticking in a high-school dropout parachute?"
"Tvic/SSK requires bachelor's, but CL teams exempt. Creative teams."
"Written law isn't all. Custom's law too."
Kim Seong-tae eyed him.
"Do Hyun-woo—that guy's got real talent. Groom him. Or his results won't count for you."
"Why not make Team 4, slot him senior? You chase everything to the end. Probe the hiring scandal too."
"...Watch your mouth. Branch meetings are all video-recorded."
"Think I don't know?"
"Fine. Want that? Assign F.E.M to Do Hyun-woo CE on that project?"
Joo Young-hoon flinched.
F.E.M—Fully Exclusive Mandate.
Exclusive project rights.
Sudden thought: something's up with Criminal Community? His mistake?
No, impossible.
Not the first CE to touch it; plenty consulted him.
Official handlers: four. Touched it: way more.
Bottom line: Even he couldn't crack it.
Bluff.
His answer was simple.
"Do what you want. But if it flops under exclusive mandate, fix the hiring scandal. Termination."
Do Hyun-woo's contract termination hit; Kim Seong-tae's eyes wavered.
After Joo Young-hoon left, Kim Seong-tae muttered.
"That bastard... Just try casting that flop idol."
But soon his face melted like spring snow.
The script—he'd devoured eight acts last night—was just too perfect.