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### Chapter 3: The Responsibility Not to Waste Your Life
"So you actually have talent for writing scripts. It was your first time, wasn't it?"
Suhyun said.
I flinched for a moment at her comment that the drama had come alive before her eyes just from reading the script.
There was no way I could tell her I'd written it after seeing some kind of vision, so I simply smiled awkwardly and
nodded.
"A romantic comedy written by Han Noah. And it's actually good. I already know the original novel, but it was still
really entertaining."
The compliments kept coming.
"It was hilarious. Those convenience store troublemakers alone were enough. Honestly, the romance in the novel felt a
little awkward, but here? I can't find anything to criticize."
"I also liked the sitcom vibe. There's an American series on NFlix called Kim's Convenience. It reminded me of that.
Except this one is more heart-fluttering."
Suhyun had been smiling as she shared her thoughts, but suddenly her expression turned serious.
"So."
"So?"
"The next episode."
"I told you, there isn't one."
At my answer, Suhyun let out a dramatic sigh and collapsed onto the table.
"When I start watching a drama, I have to finish it."
I smiled and checked the time.
It was almost seven o'clock.
If we were office workers, this would normally be quitting time.
"Actually... today's the day they announce the contest results."
"Really?"
Suhyun instantly sat upright.
"No one's contacted you?"
"Looks like I didn't make it."
"Then it's their loss for missing out on this script!"
Her energy shot up the way it did during her streams.
"I'd even bet my NFlix watch time that this script is going to be a hit."
"That's enough."
"It was your first script ever. It was seriously fun."
"You know me."
"I don't say things I don't mean."
I knew.
Back when I'd been writing complete garbage, she'd even told me maybe I should quit.
At the time, I'd gotten angry and asked how she could say something like that.
But someone who's willing to tell you the truth even at the risk of damaging your relationship...
That kind of person is precious.
She'd known.
She'd realized my novels were destroying me.
"Come on. Let's eat."
"I found an amazing tripe hot pot place recently."
"Out of nowhere?"
"What do you mean, out of nowhere? It's almost seven. I'm hungry."
---
Drama production companies were no longer subordinate to television networks.
The competition among streaming platforms that had intensified throughout the early 2020s had greatly weakened
broadcasters' power as platform owners.
Successful production companies had become like elite employees every corporation wanted to recruit.
They were now in a position to choose which company they wanted to work with.
In that environment, Studio Lion was one of the industry's rising stars.
The previous year, their NFlix-exclusive drama High Society had become a massive hit.
On top of that, Lion Entertainment, which backed the studio, possessed its own pool of actors, giving the company
exceptional stability.
For this contest, JTV had made significant concessions.
From production authority to funding, they had yielded much of the control.
It reflected just how much influence production companies now held—and how desperately JTV wanted this project to
succeed.
JTV, like TVS, was a cable network.
In reality, though, it was known almost entirely for its news and current affairs programming.
Compared to TVS, its entertainment division, especially dramas, had long been regarded as mediocre.
They wanted to change that perception.
Ordinary viewers didn't care about the relationship between production companies and broadcasters.
People simply said,
"That really good drama is on that channel."
JTV wanted to shake off its outdated image once and for all.
The 150-million-won prize wasn't just an extravagant marketing stunt.
It demonstrated JTV's determination to discover fresh, high-quality scripts.
If possible, they also hoped to recruit a promising screenwriter as an exclusive writer.
Studio Lion already had exclusive writers.
Still, they respected the broadcaster's wishes.
After all...
JTV was paying for the project.
The judging session, which would conclude the contest and officially launch the project, was held at Studio Lion.
"You know..."
"Young writers these days really love art."
Ha Taehyun, one of Studio Lion's exclusive writers, spoke.
Although it sounded like praise, his expression suggested otherwise.
"TVS has been producing one hit after another."
"Because of that, most of these submissions are just imitations."
"Maybe holding a rookie contest was asking too much."
The JTV representatives exchanged glances.
Even so, what they truly wanted was another drama like the ones TVS produced.
TVS genuinely had a reputation for creating artistic works.
People even joked that if TVS made a Cinderella story, it somehow became art.
But perhaps that success had created an unfortunate side effect.
Among aspiring writers, an odd trend had emerged.
Everyone wanted to create "art."
There was nothing inherently wrong with that.
Unless...
The scripts themselves were bad.
The so-called "art syndrome."
Ironically, the writer behind TVS's acclaimed drama Grim Reaper, the very drama that inspired people to say "even
Cinderella becomes art under TVS," had once remarked,
"I don't create art."
"Creating art with someone else's money is irresponsible."
"They're all just awkward hybrids."
The conference room fell silent as Han Heejung, Lion Entertainment's Head of Production, finally spoke.
She was effectively the person with the final say.
With no studio president present, she oversaw all production at Studio Lion.
She had also been the driving force behind High Society's tremendous success.
To make matters even more significant, she was the daughter of Lion Entertainment CEO Han Jaehyun.
Her influence within the company was immense.
"If the romance is going to be this cliché..."
"Then at least the writing should have half as much confidence as it does."
She coldly placed another script onto the pile.
Lately, many aspiring writers had begun avoiding the romance genre altogether.
At the same time, more and more inexperienced writers tried to cover up weak storytelling by stuffing awkward romance
into their scripts.
Han Heejung couldn't understand it.
Wasn't this exactly the kind of "everything leads to romance" storytelling those same writers claimed to despise?
Audiences hated it too.
To begin with...
The fact that they underestimated romance was ridiculous.
Especially considering they called themselves drama writers.
She tossed aside another script that failed to capture the atmosphere of a historical drama and instead relied on an
unrealistic romance between people of vastly different social classes.
In her eyes, JTV wasn't much different.
They were obsessed with competing against TVS by producing an outstanding genre drama.
This project had to succeed.
Too many people still dismissed her accomplishments from the previous year as nothing more than luck.
Many continued to see her as someone who'd only gotten her position because of family connections.
Steeling herself, Han Heejung picked up the next script.
Everyone Only Stops by the Convenience Store for a While
It was an unusual title.
Something about it immediately caught her attention.
As she turned each page...
The light in her eyes grew brighter and brighter.
---
The tripe hot pot was delivered, naturally.
Still, it tasted incredible.
Since Suhyun lived almost entirely on delivery food, she probably knew every good restaurant nearby.
She even took a bottle of soju out of the refrigerator.
"It was seriously good."
"Okay."
"I get it."
"I'm fine."
I knew why she kept bringing it up.
She'd seen me fall apart every time I failed the literary contest.
"This stew is amazing."
"The broth is unbelievable."
Emotions were contagious.
Not just happiness.
Depression spread just as easily.
Trying to lighten the mood, I exaggerated my reaction.
"Right?"
"You should start eating properly too."
"Writing is work."
"You live on instant noodles every day, don't you?"
"You're the one who's going to die early."
"Are you worried about me?"
"Who else is going to worry about you?"
"Unless you've suddenly found yourself a girlfriend?"
"Picking a fight?"
"See?"
"If it weren't for me, you'd have died alone in that room ages ago."
Suhyun laughed as she said it.
I couldn't argue.
It was true.
Without Suhyun...
I probably would've become a complete shut-in.
"So when you become a drama writer..."
"You'll meet lots of celebrities."
"Maybe you'll even date an actress."
"It'll make up for all those lonely years of being single."
"Slow down."
"You've been watching too many dramas."
After a brief pause, I continued.
"I think..."
"I'm going to stop writing."
"Huh?"
"Why?"
"I'm thirty now."
"Just like you said."
"I always planned to quit if I couldn't debut before turning thirty."
Ever since dropping out of college, I'd lived month to month.
Last year, I'd even worked two jobs so I could save enough money to focus entirely on writing.
But that had only been because I'd decided it would be my final attempt.
I decided to think of the drama script as one last act of rebellion.
After all...
That strange phenomenon of seeing visions had never happened again.
Just to be sure, I'd reread every novel I'd ever written.
Nothing happened.
"I can't keep living like this forever."
"If I think about how every month depends on waiting for another paycheck..."
"I really need to start looking for a job."
"I can't keep working at a convenience store while telling myself I'll write after work, can I?"
I laughed as I spoke.
My own situation was almost funny.
Or maybe just empty.
Suhyun stared quietly at me.
Then she slowly put down her spoon.
"What?"
Instead of answering, she picked up her phone.
A second later, my own phone vibrated.
Deposit Received
5,000,000 won
Kim Suhyun
"...Huh?"
Five million won?
"An investment."
"...What?"
Suhyun smiled.
Not arrogantly.
Not pityingly.
Just...
A smile.
"Pay me back after you succeed."
"Double it."
"No..."
"But..."
"And start eating real food."
As if nothing had happened, she picked up her spoon again.
I couldn't find the words.
My head told me to refuse.
To send it back.
If I accepted it...
When would I ever be able to repay her?
Maybe I never could.
Yet another voice whispered something completely different.
You'll succeed anyway.
You still haven't given up that dream.
The dream of telling your stories to people all over the world.
"You can't refuse it, can you?"
"I know you too well."
Suhyun's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
"I know how hard you've worked trying to take responsibility for your own life."
"I know how desperately you've pushed yourself because you refused to become like your father."
When you've known someone for fifteen years...
You inevitably learn things about them.
Even more so when you've known each other since middle school, back when neither of you understood what should or
shouldn't be said.
"I think you're amazing."
"I really do."
"But you know..."
"Asking for help when you need it..."
"That's also taking responsibility."
The smile disappeared from Suhyun's face.
"The responsibility not to waste your life."
I couldn't answer.
If I claimed I'd never blamed the world...
I'd be lying.
But my life...
It was my own responsibility.
I was the one who chose to become a novelist.
The one who chose to survive on part-time jobs month after month.
Every decision had been mine.
"I make good money, you know."
Suhyun grinned again.
"And besides..."
"You couldn't even send it back."
"Your transfer limit wouldn't let you."
Then she delivered the final blow.
"The script was genuinely great."
"I told you."
"It's an investment."
"If it had been one of your old novels..."
"I would've shut you down immediately."
"You remember, don't you?"
"I'm the one who told you to quit."
"Thank you."
What else could I possibly say?
"You're giving me goosebumps."
"Just eat."
Her familiar attitude made me smile without realizing it.
At that very moment, my phone rang again.
An unfamiliar number.
"Hello?"
"Hello."
"This is Studio Lion."
"Am I speaking with writer Han Noah?"
Studio Lion?
Writer?
"...Yes."
"Congratulations."
"Your submission, Everyone Only Stops by the Convenience Store for a While, has been selected as the winner of this
contest."
For a brief moment...
The entire world stopped.
"...You can also confirm the results on our website—"
The voice became nothing more than a distant buzz.
I couldn't hear anything else.
It felt as though I were sinking deep beneath the ocean.
I did it.
My quiet whisper drifted across that silent sea.
I really did it.
I actually did it!