Eyes on the Casters
On the screen, Pi Do-seon gazes at his mother.
Choi Ha-il saw his past self in those eyes.
How could they be so identical?
"I became a pro gamer in Mom's world. So... it wasn't my job."
"My job was being your son."
Pi Do-seon's mother on screen shoots him a look of utter disbelief.
"Pi Do-seon! What are you trying to say right now? No, right? Mom's just misunderstanding, isn't she?"
Choi Ha-il flinched but couldn't tear his eyes from the screen.
Regret crashed over him at the same time.
I should have been the one to say that.
This wasn't about box office logic.
Rather, through that work, he should have confronted his trauma head-on and moved forward.
Why had he run even from that moment?
Director Do Hyun-woo must have known everything when he handed over the script.
"Retire, or lift a trophy with this team."
"Those are your only two options now."
Dozens of minutes later, when the drama ended.
Choi Ha-il, deep in thought, called his manager hyung.
"Hey, Ha-il, what's up?"
"Hyung, any news on Director Do Hyun-woo's next project?"
Bzzz, bzzz.
I let out a sigh at the vibrating phone.
Who could it be this time?
"Yes, this is Do Hyun-woo from SSK."
"Hello! Is this Director Do Hyun-woo's number?"
"Yes, that's me. Who's calling?"
"Hello. This is the PR manager from ENS Entertainment, which handles web drama production alongside agencies for supporting actors..."
I set up a meeting with the ENS Entertainment PR manager who wanted just one chance to meet, then hung up.
If they only ran an actor agency, I wouldn't have bothered, but web drama production was their main gig.
A fairly well-known one, at that.
"Where to this time?"
"ENS Entertainment."
"Oh, that web drama place?"
"Yeah."
"Should I say you're working hard, or scold you for secretly enjoying it?"
"I'm not enjoying it at all."
"I know. But normal people would think you are."
Chae Seo-hee headed to the meeting room with those words.
Lately, she'd been pushing hard on developing the historical drama script with her assistant CEs.
I'd offered to help, but she wanted to nail the first draft on her own, so I let her.
As I watched her in the meeting, I saved the ENS manager's number and sighed.
No exaggeration—over the past few weeks, I hadn't bought a single dinner with my own money.
If I'd wanted, I could've had breakfast, brunch, lunch, coffee, dessert, drinks, and late-night snacks all on someone else's dime.
The reason was simple.
Love calls were pouring in from every production company and agency.
The company names varied, but their pitches were all the same.
Production companies shoved scripts at me first.
Planning docs and scripts for projects they wanted to make—could I just take a look?
SSK was gearing up to produce without a platform soon, right? Better to share the risk, no?
They were even willing to cede a big chunk of IP shares if we partnered.
It was like they'd rehearsed the exact same lines.
Agencies, meanwhile, pushed actor profiles or brought the actors themselves.
Mostly rookies they were hyping or big-money signings who'd flopped in a few projects straight.
No specific goal here—just abstract "get our face in front of you" stuff, which felt even more uncomfortable.
I could smile, say I'd review scripts and plans, and part ways. But actor sales? No thanks.
So I'd been dodging agency calls as much as possible.
Truth be told, meetings with production companies had upsides for me too.
I could find partners to share risks, snag good scripts or plans.
Or...
My superpower might trigger.
Since it randomly fired off at the MBY variety studio for At Your Fingertips, it wasn't impossible.
Agencies, though? Nothing to offer, nothing I wanted.
Yet somehow my attitude got read wrong, and subtle temptations started flooding in.
Offers to backchannel better deals than D.P.
When I politely declined, most figured the amount wasn't enough.
At least, thankfully, being an ex-actor myself, the sleazy sales tactics stayed away.
Otherwise, I'd have been pissed for real.
Oh, and hilariously, even Hien reached out.
Said they'd cover full production costs if we turned At Your Fingertips Season 2 into an ROR.
Ridiculous—I just laughed it off and hung up.
All this kicked off because of three actors.
Kang Min-sik, Oh Ha-eun.
And Ruan.
Sunbae Min-sik's breakout was predictable.
He struggled in early daily-life scenes, but by mid-drama, he unleashed insane acting chops.
So much so that fans often mistook him for a mid-tier vet.
Like he'd been in tons of films and dramas before, finally landing an impactful role.
Naturally, reporters pumped out tons of articles on his casting story.
If I strung all those headlines into one sentence...
...something like that.
Damn. Even I wouldn't ignore it.
Interviews requests poured in; reporters hounded me nonstop.
What criteria did I use to cast Kang Min-sik?
I had some vague deflections, but this stuff never ends.
I stuck to strict no-comment...
Then Oh Ha-eun exploded.
From Episode 4, people whispered "Who's that actress?" By Episode 8, she'd stamped her mark.
The scene where, as PR team lead Lee Young-han, she faces the public backlash calling her a traitor and sobs her heart out—it blew up.
The kiss with Lee Young-han at the end was standard drama trope, but...
Cliché didn't mean bad.
No exaggeration—Oh Ha-eun's recognition skyrocketed from pre-Episode 7 to post-Episode 8.
Some weird logic said the kill point was Min Jae-yul and Oh Ha-eun—no, Lee Young-han and Yoo Ah-yeon—being from the same agency in real life.
So Surfer Ent started aggressively pushing Oh Ha-eun virals.
"Isn't this a bit much?"
"Sorry, Director. But pairing her with you gives the best image..."
"There's Min Jae-yul, you know."
"Drama fans love it, but same agency makes it too pink and fluffy..."
My casting story always got dragged in.
Like I went to snag Min Jae-yul but took Oh Ha-eun first.
Her recognition was too low; even Surfer was thrown, but I nailed it.
Even if we couldn't use Min Jae-yul, we'd take Oh Ha-eun.
That pro attitude built trust, so I took Min Jae-yul too—that was Surfer's line.
True story so far, but Oh Ha-eun lied on variety shows.
Said my on-set pressure drew out acting skills she didn't know she had.
Probably Do Hyun-woo knew her hidden talents all along.
I'm so wronged.
When did I ever pressure her?
I always smiled and treated her kindly.
Even Kim Ra-un and Director Lim spilled first long-take tales, painting me as scary.
No wonder the no-comment'd interest reignited.
And the dynamite on that fire? Ruan.
Pi Do-seon's awakening was a full-on explosion.
And at the end of it all...
That endgame article dropped.
After that, agency and production love calls made daily life a hassle.
Of course, I knew I could brush off or bask in the attention effortlessly.
But it pricked my conscience just a bit.
I'd thought it before—casting was thanks to my superpower.
And that tied straight to my real dilemma.
"We could drop the interim label."
"Team 4. Think you can lead it?"
I still hadn't accepted the rep's offer.
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