Chapter 40: Blackout Curtains in the Dark Officetel
In the officetel shrouded by blackout curtains, darkness thicker than night filled the space. Flicker— The phone screen lit up. Flicker—flicker—flicker— Tae-gyu opened his eyes on the bed, roused by the phone alarm blinking every few minutes.
"Mm."
He grabbed the phone from beside his head. Squinting in the sudden glow amid the gloom, he saw the messages.
Cheon Yoo-seong's texts, brimming with excitement even in text alone. Yawning, Tae-gyu slowly typed back.
The reply came instantly.
Then, silence for a while. Tae-gyu tilted his head, staring at the phone in his hand.
The phone where he'd exchanged numbers with quite a few people last night.
Gu Jeong-hwan... Seol A-yoon... Cheon Yoo-seong... It felt surreal. Connecting with people he'd only seen on TV or screens before—actors in those works or the creators behind them.
But.
Something even more astonishing caught Tae-gyu's eye as he scrolled through his contacts.
[Seol A-yoon]
The superstar Seol A-yoon. More precisely, that strangely glowing dokkaebi fire he'd seen right before she started acting.
Whoosh!
Even now, that brilliant blaze lingered in his mind.
·······What the hell was that?
A completely new kind of emotion. That unidentified feeling seemed tied to 'acting' somehow.
It was right before Seol A-yoon—the top of her age group—began her performance.
She said herself... she was just thinking about acting.
This was worth pondering deeply.
Last night at the dinner, there had been heated debates about whose movie it really was and such, but what truly mattered to Tae-gyu now was this.
Come to think of it.
That eerie dokkaebi fire from Seol A-yoon.
It was pretty beautiful too, the one I saw at the Monster City set.
The sea of beautiful dokkaebi fires he'd glimpsed leaving the Monster City shoot. All of it had already become the thrill and hope filling his once colorless daily life.
·······Yeah, becoming an actor was the right call.
Tae-gyu's lips curved slightly upward. With that thought—that he'd stick around this industry for the foreseeable future—he got out of bed and started his day.
A simple breakfast, a wash-up, getting dressed.
With the shoot, expected to last two weeks, wrapping up a bit early.
He had preparations to make for the auditions lined up back-to-back in a few days.
Just like always.
Good emotions fitting the roles he'd take on.
He'd gathered some even during his daily life between Hoshi-jeol shoots.
But now that I have some free time...
Maybe there were even better matches than what he had.
Click.
Tae-gyu opened the door and stepped out.
A cafe in Jongno. It was bustling with the noise of packed customers.
"···············Pardon?"
To Ji Cheol-geun PD right now, only the man sitting across from him mattered.
"How did you know?"
"Haha. It'd be weirder if I didn't know, right, PD-nim?"
DK Entertainment CEO Do Yoon-seop. His drawling expression twisted into a grin as he brought up the teaser video Ji had made recently.
"Word's spreading like wildfire that you nailed that teaser, PD-nim."
Not surprising, really. Not everyone's lips are sealed tight in broadcasting circles that frequent the main editing suites.
Data leaks are near impossible, but among SBC staff, there were bound to be one or two feeding industry gossip to DK Entertainment. It'd be odd if Do Yoon-seop didn't have any.
"·········You mean our actor pulled off an amazing solo teaser. Man, Lee Tae-gyu must've really won you over, huh."
Right now, Do Yoon-seop was angling for profit.
Lee Tae-gyu. He'd worried over the short six-month contract, but now the CEO had crunched the numbers.
[Worth the investment]
His acting had exploded, and for a rookie, he was drawing disproportionate attention.
On top of that.
Rumors were already circulating in the industry.
'The monster rookie actor who caught the eye of the 10-million director.'
A newbie who could spit out solid revenue like a vending machine if you just pulled the lever now.
Extend the contract? Unleash that potential and push him to the top?
···········The second Kim Kwang-woo.
Do Yoon-seop's instincts told him so. The kid showed similar potential to the old Kim Kwang-woo—nurture him right, and the company wouldn't worry about operations for the next decade.
"They say the full 50 seconds was packed with our guy?"
Today's meeting was to secure the bomb that would detonate the kid's potential.
"PD-nim. Let's just use that as the official teaser."
"·········No can do."
Ji PD shook his head without hesitation. He'd already told Nam the section chief and Hwang the headquarters head he'd swap it for another teaser officially.
To begin with.
It was well-made, sure, but Ji PD didn't think it fit as an official teaser.
"I hear SBC's drama division might get axed."
"············!"
"What're you staring at me like that for? You know how many ears I got."
Do Yoon-seop dialed back his tone a notch for a more casual vibe and launched into full persuasion.
"Of course, you don't need to worry, PD-nim. After all our years together, right?"
Like you're gonna pretend the past bribes never happened now that you're cleaned up.
"But I got eyes too. You think I'm just some guy feeding you kickbacks? Hurts my feelings. I don't wanna stress you out with nonsense when you're busy making your shows."
A roundabout way of saying, 'Remember the bribes?' and 'Play dumb and you might have to deal with me.'
Ji PD's face stiffened slightly, but Do Yoon-seop shifted the mood.
"Last time we met, I said Monster City's script was killer first thing. You scouted our label because you saw my skills too."
Do Yoon-seop pumped the atmosphere just right.
"A drama you're pouring everything into like Monster City—you really think swapping one teaser dooms it, PD-nim?"
"Still... sorry."
Ji PD kept his firm expression amid the awkwardness. But.
No matter how big a deal he was as a main PD, grilling him was child's play for a battle-hardened vet like Do Yoon-seop.
"How about this, then."
Do Yoon-seop switched proposals with a respectful look.
This had been the goal from the start, really.
"Official teaser drops next month, right?"
"Yeah. Right before airdate hits hardest."
"Do that as planned, and drop this one now."
"Pardon?"
"Not through the production team official channels—my personal routes."
"But—"
"PD-nim."
Do Yoon-seop cut off Ji Cheol-geun.
"You know 70% of those random Hollywood set violence or actor scandal leaks at weird timings? Movie marketing."
"Viral... marketing?"
"Bingo."
Do Yoon-seop was pitching insidious viral marketing to infect the public with rumors bit by bit.
"I get what you're worried about."
He nodded.
"SBC ain't dumb—even if it's untraceable, if your exact video pops up, they'll guess. So here's the play."
"What."
"You got intermediate edits, right? The rougher ones without full polish."
"Ah."
"The kind that screams 'snuck outta the editing bay.' Kinda messy, you know what I mean."
"I get the vibe, but—"
"Just hand that over. We'll handle the rest."
Leaning back in his chair, Do Yoon-seop waved off any fretting.
"No need to overthink it. Worst case, it gets caught—Italian Romance ratings'll bury it as a blip. You know I can back you inside and out if you want, PD-nim."
Ji Cheol-geun groaned softly.
Weighing Do Yoon-seop's offers (past bribes, viral impact, intermediate edits, support fire for ratings) against the risks he might face.
"Good for your ratings, good for boosting our actor's name."
Do Yoon-seop didn't voice it.
How this timing—right as audition season hit—would skyrocket Lee Tae-gyu's value, letting him squeeze max profit before re-signing.
He just watched.
·········
Ji PD, arms crossed, face uneasy, head tilted.
Grown a lot.
Compared to the guy blinded by greed, gobbling bribes before—now he could see ahead.
But.
Greed in this world ain't just about cash.
Gulp, gulp.
Do Yoon-seop downed his iced green tea coolly. He'd already gauged Ji PD's situation and greed type through various channels.
Clink.
Setting the cup down, wiping his mouth, Do Yoon-seop poked one last time.
"Saw on YouTube recently—a vid on shirt-wearing order hit millions of views. Some overseas film student edited it, got scouted by a broadcaster. Point is, world's primed to clap for good vids no matter who makes 'em..."
Do Yoon-seop gently prodded Ji Cheol-geun's shifted desires, still laced with hesitation.
"Aren't you curious?"
"About wha—"
"How far your skills go without the SBC badge."
"·········."
Gotcha.
Ji PD's eyes flickered toward him, speechless for a beat.
"·········Aw, c'mon, that's not why I met you, and here I am boring you again."
Catching that spark in his eyes, Do Yoon-seop sensed victory, stood, and clapped his shoulder buddy-like.
"Up you go. My treat for drinks."
That night, it dropped into the world.
A 50-second nuke.
Onto a global video platform teeming 24/7 with millions craving intense dopamine.
Click.
Along with the first comment born of primal human curiosity.