Radio Reunion and a Mad Epiphany
To cut to the chase, I couldn't turn down Eum Sung-hyun's request.
More precisely, I couldn't refuse the request that came through him.
It was Upshin director Yang Ho-seok who wanted to appear on the radio with me.
Yang Ho-seok.
The representative director of Korea, who'd helmed one ten-million-admission blockbuster and three five-million hits.
"Good movies don't come around easily. Since it was Director Yang Ho-seok, Team Leader Ko stamped approval without a second thought."
It wasn't for nothing that Ko Sang-wook, so picky about scripts, had okayed it without hesitation.
Truth be told, I had a slight connection with Director Yang Ho-seok.
I'd appeared in all three of his films.
I was an extra with no lines in the blockbuster, but I had a few lines as a supporting role in two of the five-million movies.
I'd never exchanged personal words with him, but I'd gotten a good impression on set.
I thought that memory was mine alone, but...
"Oh, I remember. That was you, Director Do Hyun-woo?"
His response to my icebreaker revealed he remembered me.
"Really?"
"Of course. The cop who got hit by a car, fell, and still fired his pistol, right?"
"...Yes."
"And you even radioed in. Right?"
"Yes."
This was embarrassing.
Even if movies have fewer cuts than dramas, how does he remember all that?
But Director Yang Ho-seok's next words were unexpected.
"I took notice of you back then. I even asked Director Jo who you were."
Eum Sung-hyun, who'd been listening quietly, chimed in.
"Why? Did he act well?"
"He did well. But more than that, it was strangely done, I guess?"
"Strangely?"
"He acted with the finished product in mind. Of course, that's not inherently strange—there are other actors besides Director Do Hyun-woo who do that. What surprised me was that whatever this actor Do Hyun-woo was seeing, I could see it too."
His story made me flinch.
I hadn't realized it as an actor, but now I knew why I'd never made it big.
It was embarrassing, but...
I couldn't just ignore it.
"Director, I'm sorry about back then."
"Hm?"
"I didn't know as an actor, but becoming a director made it clear. I overstepped."
My polite apology was met with hearty laughter.
"Hahaha."
After laughing for a good while, Director Yang Ho-seok composed himself and asked,
"Wait, you actually understood what I meant? Impressive. Aren't you only in your second year as a director?"
"Thanks to Actor Eum Sung-hyun."
"Me?"
Dead serious.
Actors act, directors direct.
How a scene is used is the director's call; the actor's job is just to give their all.
I learned that simple truth through Eum Sung-hyun.
"Watching Sung-hyun act made me think that. I wouldn't have done it that way."
Eum Sung-hyun in Criminal Community was an actor who didn't know how to dial it back.
He went all-out in every scene, injecting tension even into moments meant for release.
On the whole, it disrupted the flow.
But Director Jung Hee-soo didn't direct him to ease up. Instead, he rearranged the scenes.
Using other scenes for relief, then hitting with Eum Sung-hyun's unexpected intensity.
That elevated the drama to another level.
In other words, what looked like a flaw to me became fresh inspiration for the director.
"Something I could never have done as an actor."
I'd seen the whole work.
I'd acted while presenting the answer: This is the best way to direct it.
That was why I'd apologized.
It was overstepping.
That's when Director Yang Ho-seok said,
"That's impressive. Now I see why Sung-hyun treats you like a mentor."
"Mentor?"
We weren't that far apart in age.
Just six years, right?
Sung Tae-chang and I were seven years apart...
This would make me look like trash.
"But Director Do's misunderstanding something. Most directors who rejected you probably weren't upset about the overstepping."
"Then what?"
"It stings. You're showing them something they don't even know yet."
"No way."
These were directors carrying the pillar of pop culture.
Sure, some might be like that, but most shouldn't, right?
"If that were really the case, Director Do wouldn't be succeeding like this. You'd have crumbled from lack of edge."
"Th-thank you. Truly an honor."
Embarrassed, I changed the subject, but Director Yang Ho-seok was beaming.
Turned out he'd wanted to see me because Upshin's post-production had drawn heavy inspiration from Criminal Community.
"Figured I'd build some rapport beforehand in case of plagiarism suits."
As if.
Director Yang was the type to buy rights even for minor influences.
We ended up chatting about works for ages.
I'd worried meeting three hours early for the radio was too much, but it flew by.
I learned a ton.
We promised drinks next time, but he'd be swamped for a while with post-production.
Probably July next year or Chuseok release?
Heading to the station with those thoughts, I greeted the staff... and froze.
"...?"
Cognitive dissonance hit hard.
Standing there was a face I'd never imagined encountering.
I glanced at Eum Sung-hyun in disbelief; he wore the exact same expression.
Then the PD approached.
"It's still under wraps, but our DJ got into a car accident two hours ago. We urgently booked a rising radio star..."
The PD looked awkward, eyeing us.
"Guess you're not as close as I thought? He insisted you were."
Absurdity made my mouth move on its own.
"He said we were close?"
The PD started to explain, but Eum Sung-hyun beat him to it.
"Not super close, but not awkward either. Just surprised after so long."
The PD's face lit up.
He must've read it as We'll make the broadcast work regardless of feelings.
"Sorry. We should've checked more, but it happened so suddenly."
"It's fine."
I watched Eum Sung-hyun respond calmly, then shifted my gaze.
To Tune, avoiding my eyes.
Right, Agent Secret's leader.
I'd completely forgotten, but that ragtag group survived thanks to Eum Sung-hyun.
Some left, but others re-signed.
I'd wondered where Tune vanished to after his variety show stint—radio, huh.
Desperate for a gig, he claimed closeness to Eum Sung-hyun?
"Some history there?"
I whispered to Director Yang Ho-seok at his question.
"Total bum. If Sung-hyun couldn't act, that guy's 90% of the blame."
Director Yang Ho-seok's eyes widened, then he smirked.
"Leave it to me."
The bizarre radio lineup of Yang Ho-seok, Eum Sung-hyun, and Do Hyun-woo drew more interest than expected.
Listeners were curious about the backstory behind it.
The broadcast was a modest hit.
Eum Sung-hyun's admiration for the other two shone through, and surprisingly, Yang Ho-seok and Do Hyun-woo seemed to already know each other.
Especially when the two veered into obscure foreign art films only they knew—listeners went wild.
But reactions to Tune were abysmal.
Even in a pinch, they needed a DJ with basic smarts; his hosting and wrapping were awful; too nervous to listen to, etc.
The worst poured in.
Listeners didn't know, but behind it was Yang Ho-seok.
He scowled every time Tune opened his mouth.
When Korea's film giant did it openly, Tune froze solid.
Post-radio, two thoughts lingered.
First, Eum Sung-hyun was fully independent now.
"Independent" felt off, but nothing fit better.
He wouldn't crumble.
Rooted firm on his own two feet.
Second, their dynamic had flipped.
Before, Tune called the shots, Eum Sung-hyun reacted.
Today was different.
Without Eum Sung-hyun's choice, Tune couldn't move.
He'd grabbed the fleeing Tune after the broadcast.
I didn't know their talk, but who held the reins was clear.
That image stuck in my head, oddly.
All the way back to SSK in the incentive-picked car.
Arriving and heading to the underground lot...
"...?"
Something glitched—the barrier arm wouldn't rise.
It recognized the plate, yet no movement.
As if declaring immunity now.
Odd phrasing?
Maybe from seeing Eum Sung-hyun and Tune.
That instant.
"Huh?"
Out of nowhere, answers hit for the question I'd mulled weeks.
What to create.
Who to commission the script from.
All at once.
But...
Would this work?
A viable project?
Even I thought it insane, the idea popping up screaming impossible.
Still...
When has it ever not been?
Always was.
Just whether the superpower triggered or not.
No reason not to try.
So I—
Thud.
"Ow."
Slammed right into the barrier.