Chapter 53: Testing the Waters Over Sushi
A few days later. A members-only Japanese restaurant in Seoul.
“·········Next project?”
In the innermost private room, Do Yoon-seop's one eyebrow twitched upward as he lifted his chopsticks.
“You heard everything I just said, right?”
“Yes.”
“You can shoot CFs.”
“I heard.”
“Don't like money?”
“I don't dislike it.”
“·········”
“CFs don't really matter to me anyway. What I wanted to talk about today was the next project, sir.”
“Huh.”
Do let out an involuntary dry laugh, setting his chopsticks down on the table with a clack before looking at Lee Tae-gyu.
Honestly, it would be a lie to say he wasn't disappointed. A little hurt, even.
He wasn't a CF director himself, but the concepts were so damn good that he'd already pictured a few scenes with this guy in them without realizing it.
Just pour it yourself— At the same time.
In a club, popping the cap off a bottle of beer with a satisfying pop amid blasting music: “Youth means not even enough time to crack one open!” Cringey lines like that, with dancing young people and Lee Tae-gyu, towel around his neck, offering an apology: “We squeeze it fresh for you! 100% apple juice-packed ○○ Juice!” Grinning young farmers flashing white teeth alongside him; college kids lined up on stairs clutching major textbooks: “Now you can earn your four-year degree too! ○○ University—for your future, for success!” Lee Tae-gyu giggling like a schoolgirl amid them; Lee Tae-gyu, Lee Tae-gyu, Lee Tae-gyu...
And that was just the tip—public service ads, smart door gadgets, all sorts of lidded food and drinks flooding the CF market.
·········Why's his reaction so dry?
Lee Tae-gyu's blank face as he silently picked at sashimi was almost offensive.
Munch munch.
That deadpan expression. No way this was the face of a rookie who'd only debuted on TV less than a week ago and already had over ten CF offers lined up.
Gulp.
As Tae-gyu reached for his chopsticks again, Do spoke in a low voice.
“I didn't mention the pay?”
“You did.”
“Think there's a misunderstanding. I'm not saying pick one. If you want, you can do them all.”
“That's why I'm saying I will if you say so.”
“You will, huh.”
“But I'd prefer it doesn't interfere much with my acting gigs. And I'd like roles a bit different from what I've done so far.”
Do Yoon-seop tilted his head.
He hadn't expected fanfare, but he'd figured on some excitement, a spark of thrill.
What the hell happened while I wasn't looking?
Thinking back, this was only the second time he'd met the guy face-to-face since their first contract meeting.
Where had that ambitious kid gone—the one who'd seemed like a mirror of his younger self, eyes burning with hunger?
Bored of this industry already?
Not unheard of. Plenty of actors who “loved” acting stepped into the commercial grind of dramas and films, got disillusioned, and vanished without a trace every year.
But.
·········Nah, not this one.
Do's gut told him otherwise. Those eyes said the guy had come here thirsting for something still unfilled.
But poker face—unlike last time, not a single tell of emotion. That's when Do finally got it.
············He's testing us.
This kid was sizing up if DK Entertainment was the right fit to hold him.
Made sense timing-wise. This weekend, Monster City episodes 3 and 4 would air; next week, 5 and 6. Around the end of episode 6, viewers would see [O Dae-bak]—who they'd thought dead—return, and Tae-gyu's popularity would explode from there.
Probably.
By the finale's end credits, he could command fees several times what he got now.
Too soon to lock in CFs?
Or.
Doesn't want to burn image on these mid-tier CFs?
Possible. Top agency Daeil Entertainment kept their rising stars mysterious—no variety shows, no image-risking CFs.
“That it?”
“Pardon?”
“If you're gunning for the top in Korea, sure. Hate being the clown for cheap laughs. Locks you into a type, limits roles. Right? That's what you mean?”
“Uh···I wanted to talk roles.”
“What kind?”
“For the next one, something different from what I've done. A role I can play with more upbeat, positive emotions. Hard to put into words.”
“·········No sweat. I get it.”
Do Yoon-seop nodded like it had finally clicked, opening his mouth with a knowing look.
“Right, you wanna try lead now?”
“That's not—”
“Got it.”
He raised a hand to cut Tae-gyu off.
“You've only gotten psycho roles so far, so yeah, it'd grate. Fair. But from our side, we had to weigh the risks.”
“······.”
“But now we've got trust in you. Feels like we can hand you the reins.”
What he really meant: We know you'll make money.
bluntly, just the CFs on the table already out-earned mid-tier vets. Keep this up, and he'd be a steady earner like Kim Kwang-woo, stabilizing DK's revenue.
“Alright. This is our last project before renewal. We'll push a big lead role your way, so think positive on re-signing.”
Renewal season: June. Legally, pre-renewal deal profits kept rolling even if shoots dragged past.
No loss. And right now, he had confidence he could snag something to wow the kid.
“Still a shame, though.”
“About what?”
“The CFs. Source material this good—how about three?”
“Like I said—”
Do cut off Tae-gyu's attempt to say it was fine, speaking with that meaningful smile.
“I know. Image burn worries. Fine—one per project end, but big ones like Gucci. Deal?”
CFs were ultimately a unit-price game. Better to stack fame and snag one premium gig than grind ten small ones.
That was Do's pitch.
“We're solid on CFs. Vibe like this, minimum pay threshold, solo or with another model—whatever, just spit it out like last time.”
“Can I request another model too?”
“Duh. Double-casting's standard for rush jobs. Got someone in mind for co-shoot?”
“Yes.”
“Who.”
“Actress Seol A-yoon.”
“·········”
For a split second, his pupils shook.
***
Deep into the dark dawn.
Click.
Tae-gyu, a bit wobbly from booze, shoved open his door and collapsed onto the bed, face-planting into the pillow.
·········Aigoo.
He recalled Do Yoon-seop from just moments ago.
He'd only gone because scripts weren't pouring in lately—wanted to ask about more upbeat, positive roles than before.
·········Didn't have to be lead.
Do's eyes had gleamed with ambition: I'll snag you a lead you'll love.
And.
Seol A-yoon— the second he'd heard her name, Do had roared with laughter and poured him drink after drink.
Just throwing it out there.
Tae-gyu had named Seol A-yoon as his dream CF co-star because he remembered that radiant dokkaebi fire of hers as an “actor” from their Hoshi-jeol shoot.
CFs were acting too, he'd heard. Natural to wonder if he'd catch that fire again.
Anyway.
Good outcome.
He'd locked in the promise. Do would send fitting role options soon.
Tae-gyu's lips curved faintly.
Swipe.
He slowly peered into his emotion pocket at one dokkaebi fire.
Whoosh!
From a few days back: Ji PD's fire celebrating Monster City episode 1's peak ratings win. Intoxicating victory, joy, thrill—positive vibes prickling pleasantly.
Yes.
Lately, that's what Tae-gyu craved.
·········Cult elder types feel kinda iffy, honestly.
Unlike the flood of negatives so far, he wanted chances to act with cheer, fun, excitement—positive stuff.
***
Kim Kwang-woo's eyes went wide.
“············For real, hyung?”
“Yeah.”
“Wanted to pair with him myself, but didn't expect you to bring it up first.”
“Your partner's slot empty?”
“Auditioning, but you can't mean—”
“Put him in.”
“As partner?”
Do nodded seriously.
He was pitching a big-budget DK-backed series film.
Model Detective series—Kim Kwang-woo in a lead-or-better role. About a detective who crushes evil in the shadows beyond the law, no holds barred, and his partner.
It perfectly tapped the public's thirst for vigilante justice against villains, proving its commercial chops.
Model Detective 1 = 10.45 million
Model Detective 2 = 13.31 million
This monster hit flew the Korean action buddy movie flag.
Buddy meant double leads: two actors as a combo.
But unlike Men in Black's Tommy Lee Jones and Will Smith sticking through 1 and 2, Kwang-woo's co-lead swapped per film.
Like old-school Two Cops: Ahn Sung-ki/Park Joong-hoon for 1, Park Joong-hoon/Kim Bo-seong for 2.
Muscle-head detective Kim Kwang-woo—who'd toss his brain to the dogs—and a fresh co-lead each time, different job, teaming to smash evil.
“Co-lead already?”
“Kid's got main-lead chops, in my eyes.”
“Not about chops, hyung.”
“Prep him for the role at least.”
“Tae-gyu acts great, but···· image doesn't fit, right?”
Model Detective 3's co-lead: a sunny hothead cop blinded by justice.
Like.
—Ah—! Wanna beat the crap outta this criminal—!
Cheerfully grinning while pounding crooks—a hot-blooded cop.
“·········That's why you wanna see him try.”