Taxi Ride to the Sea of Flames
From across Sabuk Station, overlooking a neighborhood crammed with motels, he caught a taxi heading up the hill. Vrooom━ After passing through a tunnel and winding up the mountain road, a massive resort with an attached ski slope came into view. Screech. Getting out of the taxi, he entered the resort's basement level one, where a vast lobby with marble floors stretched out, featuring a long reception desk. It was the ticket counter.
"Thank you, have a great time."
Passing the baggage storage right next to the desk, he reached the center of the resort, where the long-awaited entrance gate to Gangwon Land Casino loomed. After showing his ticket and ID, he stepped inside, immediately confronted by security guards in suits, along with search tables and metal detectors like those at an airport. Beep! Clearing them, the only legal casino in Korea, open exclusively to nationals, finally unfolded before him.
Step, step. Plush carpeting covered the expansive space, dotted with countless slot machines and various gaming tables. The area was spacious, packed with plenty of people. Aside from the escalator linking the first and second floors, the casino's high ceiling glittered with chandeliers casting a soft golden glow over the gamblers below.
Crumple. The moment Tae-gyu pulled that ridiculous face to see their emotions.
"············!"
A surging sea of thick dokkaebi fire crashed in from all directions. Step, step. With every step he took, dokkaebi flames of varying intensities and sizes writhed before his eyes. At the long rows of slot machines, in front of the roulette tables, around the blackjack tables deeper inside, near the baccarat tables, at the chip exchange counters on the second floor, in front of bank ATMs, and even before the indoor smoking room crowded with scowling faces.
Whoosh! Roar! Whoosh! The dokkaebi fires vied to flaunt their flames. Swallowing unconsciously at the bizarre sight, Tae-gyu thought.
Gulp.
He'd probably kill time pretty well here until audition day.
Audition day had arrived━ Even though it was a private audition, the hallway was crammed with people. As they muttered to themselves over papers scribbled with notes, a foul stench suddenly assaulted their noses. Thick cigarette reek. A few sensitive noses whipped around, but upon recognizing Kwak In-ho, they bowed their heads in unison.
Even if he was getting called a has-been these days, he was still the writer of this drama. Sure, he had a gut and a scruffy beard, but he was the scruffy guy who could get them on screen at least once.
But.
Kwak In-ho's face remained grim even as he returned the applicants' greetings and pushed open the audition room door. Clank. The moment he stepped in, a chill hung in the air. The aftermath of the fight from a few days ago. While a camera rolled nearby for behind-the-scenes footage, PD Ji Cheol-geun made no pretense of warmth.
"······."
"······."
The judges sitting in chairs on either side of him looked up from flipping through scripts. Composed of the drama's production and planning PDs, mid-level production managers from reputable companies, and so on. Compared to the casting manager right next to Ji Cheol-geun, who didn't even acknowledge him, they at least showed some basic humanity.
"Writer."
"You're here."
Exchanging greetings, Kwak In-ho took his seat and pulled out his script. Truth be told, he wasn't the type to flaunt "I'm not dead yet!" But... this felt unfair. Those words that had lingered in his ears since the fight with PD Ji, now settled firmly in his heart.
'Not your fault at all, right?!'
He knew he was a has-been. But from Kwak In-ho's perspective, nodding along to that was a stretch. Was it my fault the actor got replaced mid-run over personal scandals? Was it my fault he got caught drunk-driving right before the highlight and we had to reshoot everything? Was it my fault the actor bailed on set when his crypto tanked and ghosted us━ Coincidences like that bordered on curses. Sure, if the script was good enough to bulldoze through it all, maybe, but... pinning every freak mishap solely on him was a bit harsh.
'That said... I can't not recommend casting.'
Many dismissed his works as "mindless violence-fests," but that wasn't true. Monster City, this one, was a noir drama featuring ex-cops, thugs, criminals, and the like. And noir wasn't driven by the crude profanity or wannabe-tough machete-wielding action scenes people imagined. Emotional lines. Important in any film or drama, but especially the powerhouse in noir.
Fundamentally, it's about people numb to their daily lives before the story kicks off, then propelled by layers of desire. The core is desire and emotion. Even the violence and action forbidden in everyday life only gain meaning as means to reveal each character's unique desires and feelings.
Thus, between actors exchanging lines, thick desires and emotions must flow unbroken to the finale. Which made actors who could convey feelings with just fingertips and toes essential.
Flip. As Kwak In-ho recalled this while turning script pages, the corner of his mouth twitched up.
Finally.
Seeing the lines for the roles the applicants would soon perform sparked anticipation that swept away the discomfort from entering and the public's judgments.
'·········Lee Tae-gyu.'
Truth be told, he had high hopes for one in particular. Today wasn't for leads or major supporting roles. Meaning the blockbuster role Lee Tae-gyu would tackle was one of the tougher ones in today's auditions.
'Wonder how he'll do it.'
He couldn't help anticipating how he'd unpack the gambling addict's carefully crafted lines with emotion. How that spine-tingling acting from the wedding would shine this time. Just as Kwak In-ho began imagining the various styles Lee Tae-gyu might show.
"Writer. Remember, right?"
PD Ji Cheol-geun's cold voice shattered his reverie.
"Our bet from last time. Cancel now if you want."
"Cancel what."
"You'll regret it."
"Cut the chit-chat, PD."
Sighing as he looked up, Kwak In-ho spoke. Yeah. This wasn't just any audition.
"Everyone here will watch the applicants compete fairly on their acting merit."
A high-stakes acting showdown with a massive bet riding on it. So.
The impulsive declaration born from years of pent-up frustration from writer Kwak In-ho, versus PD Ji Cheol-geun, convinced he'd never lose.
"······Loser films this and quits the industry."
Tension rippled through the room, including the onlookers.
The tension extended beyond the audition room.
Monster City - Auditions
Among those crowding the chairs lining the waiting area hallway, few wore smiles.
"Okay, starts in 15 minutes! Sit in the order of your lobby numbers!"
Time was short. The hallway buzzed with more applicants than before, all radiating one emotion: desperation. Given the private audition's setup of slotting roles by time blocks, none here were established enough for leads or hefty supporting parts.
At best, a burly guy who often played gangsters in crime flicks or a stern shopkeeper regular. Even they looked tense. Seeing these "seniors" clutch worn, glossy papers under fluorescent lights, muttering nonstop, pressured the rest.
Bang━ From the far end of the hall, one person approached with a refreshingly confident stride, alone.
"Whoa, Manager! Check this out. The vibe's killer."
"Kim Hwan."
"Oh, right."
Despite the contextual "hush," the idol-turned-rookie actor dashed to seated actors, bowing 90 degrees.
"Seniors, how've you been━!"
DK Entertainment's Jang Executive clicked his tongue. Yesterday, this guy's road manager and stylist had quit. He'd talked them into a temporary leave until reassigned, but honestly, even he didn't like Kim Hwan.
"Saw you on TV, I'm a huge fan!"
Still, his acting was killer. From expressions to gestures and voice, so convincing even Jang, who knew it was all fake, almost bought it. If he weren't here to subtly pressure PD Ji Cheol-geun, he'd have sat back and enjoyed.
Bow, bow.
Still, his performance aired out the stuffy space a bit. Kim Hwan. Barely past unknown, yet a famous face most wouldn't name, approaching veteran bit players first drew eyes briefly.
"Nice to meet you."
"Uh... yeah..."
"Kim Hwan, rookie challenging for the O-daebak role! Hope we meet on set! Fighting!"
A few sighed at his response to the awkward "seniors." Debuting last year in a web drama as a supporting, he'd gone from "decent for a newbie" to "born talent." [Photo] Actor-Idol Kim Hwan, Time to Soar on Network TV?
Frankly, too fierce a rival. With his fandom firepower and momentum, he could vault to lead-supporting level. Why here? Expressions like that spread.
"Huh? Aren't you last year's Miss Korea...? Wow, way prettier in person. What role?"
"Wait, didn't we see you at the airport last year?"
"Script's packed tight? Passion max! Fighting!"
"Love that outfit vibe, where'd you get it?"
So leisurely. Embodying the line "The world is a playground for masters, hell for amateurs."
"Hey, you're disrupting others' focus..."
"Oops, sorry! I'll be quiet, zip!"
Even the production team's youngest, calling him out, cracked a faint smile at his breezy attitude. Many thought: one crane among chickens.
His outfit screamed it. Snow-white hoodie, deep blue mirror shades atop his head. A sparkling contrast to the drab efforts of others. At that level, clothes didn't matter. The brash confidence━vitality of one who'd never failed━drew envy from actors and aspiring alike, regardless of age or gender.
Everyone knew. If someone said, "From here to ten-million actor?" He'd hit finals first.
Even the actors returning his folder bows, regulars in tons of films, hadn't made names yet.
"Manager, craving something sweet bad. Mind if I grab bingsu up front quick? I'll demolish it."
"Quiet."
"Why? You're great otherwise, but zero flexibility."
Clueless or deliberate? His vibe turned all the serious preparers into drab extras. Just as Kim Hwan flaunted his "positive energy" presence.
Bam.
From the distant end, beyond the flung-open door.
Step... step...
A man steeped in something dark approached, trailing the stench of death from rugged wilds━