Chapter 114
Chapter 114
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 114
Chapter Title: Somehow Drawn to It? (1)
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Now that I thought about it, I could see why Kwon Sung-hyun had so confidently recommended his agency. It was an agency that pinpointed the most reliable way to protect its own entertainers. And it possessed the ruthless execution to see that method through without a shred of hesitation.
‘Not all agencies are like this, right?’
From the sight before me now, I could roughly guess as much.
On top of that, Yeonwoo had met all sorts of people while shooting his movie, appearing on variety shows, and even hosting radio segments. Naturally, that had led to plenty of casual conversations. And agency stories had inevitably come up.
“How’d you even end up there? Isn’t that Kwon Sung-hyun’s agency? Weren’t you a rookie, Yeonwoo-ssi?”
“Yeah, how does a rookie get in there? It’s not even a place mid-tier folks can join. It’s basically a one-man agency...”
“Man... Figures a guy like you would be on another level from the start, Yeonwoo-ssi. These people would faint if they knew major publishing houses had been fighting over you.”
“It just kinda happened that way...”
Yeonwoo glossed over it vaguely. It wasn’t wrong, after all, even if it felt a bit sloppy.
To be precise, he’d caved to Kwon Sung-hyun’s relentless pursuit.
Even Lee Joo-ha from the same industry had openly marveled, “Sung-hyun, you’ve lost your mind,” at the terms on offer.
And that was just the start. There were the dorms, studio space, and equipment provided to Yeonwoo—a total rookie with zero track record.
‘I can’t say I get what’s so impressive about it, but if they’re going this far, it must be something.’
That was all he’d thought.
But from what he’d overheard, there were insane agencies out there that stabbed their entertainers in the back and gouged them with unfair settlement contracts.
Some set up shop as agencies, tied down their talents, but offered zero care, leaving artists to desperately wait out their contracts.
Compared to those, his conditions were solid, no doubt.
Sometimes overly generous support left him flustered, though.
‘Like right now.’
The people around him, dazed as if entranced, swaying to Kwon Sung-hyun’s every word.
It was clear the agency—no, Kwon Sung-hyun himself—had real pull.
“So, we’re good with uploading at midnight the day after tomorrow?”
“Uh, yeah... Probably... possible...?”
“I believe in you. Who else can I count on if not you all?”
Kwon Sung-hyun flashed another soft smile.
“Right...? You can do it...?”
The deadline, originally over a week out, had suddenly shifted to a day and a half away. But the answer was already tipping toward YES.
“Of course. Oh, and... it’d be great if you could put together a preview clip.”
“A preview? Why a preview...?”
“Might as well capitalize on all the focused attention, right? Show a teaser before diving into the main event. That way, when the full video drops at midnight the day after tomorrow, the initial views will be on another level, don’t you think?”
“Yeah... You’ve got a point.”
Why did ads exist? To invest in exposure through promotion.
The more frequent the exposure, and the more visible the spots or times, the higher the price.
Make it approachable, lower the psychological barrier, and accessibility skyrockets. That’s what drives sales.
‘Here it’s views instead of money, but still.’
Ultimately, it’d benefit the movie too.
Promotion for the sake of promotion—that was the preview.
“No need for it to be long. The real meat’s in the full video dropping the day after tomorrow anyway. Something short, like 1 minute 30 seconds, hitting the key points. Think you can manage?”
“O-of course! No problem!”
The assistant director bobbed his head vigorously, beaming from the smile.
Yeonwoo wondered.
‘Does that guy even realize what he’s agreeing to...?’
When Kwon Sung-hyun set his mind to charming someone, this was the result.
More bewitching than any fox spirit.
One small mercy: Kwon Sung-hyun didn’t go around devouring livers...
Well, modern fox spirits didn’t do that anyway.
“Thanks so much for agreeing so readily despite the tough schedule. It’ll mean a lot for our actors and the film. Oh, and if you need anything—staff support, whatever—we’ll do our best within reason.”
Under the guise of running people ragged for a 2-day, 1-night shoot, Kwon Sung-hyun tacked on the offer.
Equipment support went without saying. Meals were barely worth mentioning.
“Alright, looks like we’re wrapped up here.”
The meeting, dragged along by Kwon Sung-hyun’s momentum, ended swiftly.
His crisp closing words sent everyone scattering.
“Kid, was I crazy? The deadline’s the day after tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah... Day after tomorrow...”
“Why’d I say okay? Was I nuts?”
As if snapping from a spell, the assistant director and staff wandered out mumbling in a daze.
Director Ji slipped out with a subtle nod in their wake.
They looked like a horde of zombies, souls adrift.
“Director, why didn’t you stop it...?”
“I tried hitting him...”
“A big guy like you takes that? Just shove him!”
“How... could I...?”
“Sigh...”
The staff shuffled out, sighing heavily, one by one.
The reps from other agencies, dragged in pointlessly and sidelined, looked especially awkward.
“You’re really cashing in on this, Yeonwoo-ssi.”
“Hm?”
Yeon Do-hee, on her way out, whispered to Yeonwoo.
“Just between us—no one else hears this—but our agency’s ‘solution’ was the absolute worst. I couldn’t even say it out loud. Whew...”
“That bad?”
Yeon Do-hee, who’d always stayed composed during shoots, never showing strain and even lifting others’ spirits, wasn’t one to voice strong objections.
If even she was like this, it had to be hopeless.
“Don’t ask.”
She kept whispering as they walked, lips barely moving, enunciation crystal clear.
“Guess what these idiots said yesterday?”
“No idea...?”
Her voice dropped lower.
“They wanted me to film an exposure scene.”
“Huh?”
“Shh, shh!”
Stunned by the unexpected word, Yeonwoo blurted it out. Yeon Do-hee frantically shook her head.
Her manager glanced over at the minor commotion.
Of course, both their faces were perfectly neutral now, as if nothing had happened.
‘Good thing I’ve got Poker Face.’
He’d nearly let his instinctive disgust twist his expression.
The passive skill had kicked in just in time to avert disaster.
“What do you mean by exposure scene...? Like, what I’m thinking?”
Amazed by her ventriloquism at first, Yeonwoo soon found himself mimicking her decently well.
Not perfect, but enough for a quick deception.
“Probably exactly what you’re thinking, Yeonwoo-ssi.”
“This is insane...”
“Right? Totally insane?”
An exposure scene? In a film built on delicate emotional nuance?
“Why’d that crazy idea even come up?”
“Something about burying one issue with another. Since it’s already tanking, might as well go full noise marketing and boost our name value.”
Yeon Do-hee let out a deep sigh.
“I almost had to sit through that as their ‘plan.’ Kwon Sung-hyun showing up saved us. Otherwise...”
She shuddered.
Yeonwoo felt it too.
‘Director Ji Un-jae and an exposure scene. What a monstrous combo...’
If her agency had pushed that bold nudity angle, Director Ji might’ve fainted on the spot.
The result would’ve been a grotesque mismatch, like ill-fitting clothes.
“That would’ve been a disaster.”
“Tell me about it. Whew. I barely fought them off to come here! Could’ve blown it again. Every movie I do lately flops—embarrassing enough already.”
It clicked why Yeon Do-hee, flawless in every way, had such a grim career track record.
And he thought.
‘This is why picking an agency matters...’
Speaking of agencies, one more person came to mind.
“Come to our agency sometime. Promise? You have to.”
The actress who’d clashed sharply with Kwon Sung-hyun over Yeonwoo.
Min Yerin.
‘If I’d gone with Min Yerin’s agency... what would’ve happened?’
Hypotheticals were pointless.
But one thing Yeonwoo was sure of.
‘I probably wouldn’t have ended up in a Ji Un-jae film.’
“Our agency’s not bad, you know? There were issues once, but they’re fixed. Like the saying—ground hardens after rain.”
Min Yerin’s agency, once infamous for poor management.
They’d even sent spies during manager hiring, or so the rumor went.
Spies in the 21st century? Come on.
‘Never underestimate rumors.’
Min Yerin thought she’d overhauled it personally, but...
‘I should visit once.’
Not to sign, of course. He was already with Kwon Sung-hyun’s agency.
The reason for Yeon Do-hee’s agency was... different.
“Yeonwoo-ssi?”
“Huh.”
“You were spacing out. Didn’t hear me?”
“Uh, yeah...”
“Bit awkward repeating myself, but...”
She hesitated, then asked cautiously.
“Does your agency have any plans to take on more people?”
“Huh?”
“Rumors said it was basically Kwon Sung-hyun’s solo gig. I believed it too, but then you joined, so... People wanted in badly, but no one got through, so they gave up. Then...”
Her gaze fixed on Yeonwoo.
“You dropped in out of nowhere. Like from the sky. My contacts are still dying to know about you. Had to talk them out of tailing you to set.”
A sudden arrival at everyone’s dream agency.
Bound to draw eyes.
“Really?”
“You’re clueless? You seriously didn’t know?”
“Never heard specifics.”
“You do seem oblivious to that stuff... Anyway, that gave me hope. Maybe I could transfer too.”
Agency talk.
The rumors were spot-on, essentially.
Made sense.
It was a company set up by Kwon Sung-hyun’s parents to support their precious youngest’s little venture, come hell or high water.
‘They hid the details tight, alright. Just rumors floating around.’
All to protect Kwon Sung-hyun’s reputation.
No need for other entertainers, then.
Money wasn’t an issue—far from it.
No point expanding, even for a hugely popular actor.
‘So why’d they take me?’