Chapter 41
Chapter 41
The First Reading
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Script Reading
“Hello, writer. I’m Lee Su-ji, the director for ‘Dreaming’.”
“Hello! I’m Jeong Da-hee!”
Before the script reading, Jeong Da-hee met and got acquainted with Lee Su-ji, the director of ‘Dreaming’.
“Please, speak comfortably. I’m practically a rookie myself…”
Lee Su-ji had primarily directed short dramas; ‘Dreaming’ was her first 16-episode series.
“It’s a bit daunting.”
“Me too.”
‘Dreaming’ was instantly being promoted as JSTV’s most anticipated work. This was because it had gained fame for its ‘virtual reality’ gate theme, and its cast was spectacular.
“I was a little surprised that Jin Su-ho offered to do it first.”
“A grand debut is always good. Is the scriptwriting going well? You can’t be too late with it because of the pressure.”
“Of course.”
Jeong Da-hee nodded, full of motivation at Lee Su-ji’s playful words. This was the debut she had longed for. She wouldn’t let the pressure of a top-star cast make her do a shoddy job.
“By the way, how is Yu Yeon-seo? Have you met him, writer?”
“I have.”
An eyewitness account had even surfaced on the day Yu Yeon-seo suggested JSTV. A false rumor had spread that ‘I saw Yu Yeon-seo at a cafe making a woman cry,’ but it quickly died down when it was revealed the woman was actually the writer, Jeong Da-hee.
“Is his personality as rotten as the rumors say? What if I can’t even direct him properly?”
“You don’t have to worry about that. You can’t believe rumors.”
“Really?”
Having heard much about Yu Yeon-seo’s notoriety from various seniors, Lee Su-ji found Jeong Da-hee’s words hard to believe.
“He pretends not to, but he’s actually very caring.”
“…Is that so?”
“That’s why ‘Dreaming’ was greenlit for production so quickly.”
The rumor that Yu Yeon-seo had handed the script to Choi Yu-jin had spread so fast that even Jeong Da-hee had heard it. It would have been stranger if it hadn’t been picked up, considering he sent it directly to the Vice Chairman.
“You’ll probably be fine directing him however you want, director.”
“Don’t joke about that.”
“No, I’m serious.”
He’ll probably just take it all with that sulky, prim look on his face, right? Jeong Da-hee suppressed a laugh.
“Yeon-seo! Seung-hyeon!”
“We meet again.”
When Jeong Da-hee spotted Yu Yeon-seo and approached him warmly, the supporting actors who had worked with him before and those who knew the rumors well shook their heads. They braced themselves for the inevitable shouting.
‘He’s smiling?’
‘What’s going on?’
But things were unfolding differently than they had expected.
Yu Yeon-seo was famous for putting up walls with everyone around him, regardless of age or gender. He would especially get irritated and lash out if someone he didn’t know well, like Jeong Da-hee, acted overly familiar. But now, he was smiling gently and accepting her greeting.
It was enough to make one wonder, ‘Are they dating?’
The people, shocked by this unexpected side of him, shot to their feet upon seeing the actor strolling leisurely behind Jeong Da-hee.
“Am I a little late?”
“Ma’am.”
Even Jin Su-ho stood up abruptly to greet her. It was the veteran actress, Lee Seon-ja, who would play Jin Su-ho’s mother in the drama.
“Not at all. We arrived early.”
“Is that so? I saw that kid was already here, so I thought I was late.”
Lee Seon-ja gestured with her head toward Yu Yeon-seo. He wasn’t late, but he used to cut it so close that it was almost the same thing.
Yu Yeon-seo, who had stood up just because others did, narrowed his eyes as he looked at Lee Seon-ja’s face. To others, even that seemed like a look of displeasure.
‘She looks very familiar.’
She was a veteran actress whose face he had seen in countless films and shows. And…
‘She was in a drama with Lee Hui-seo.’
She had played Lee Hui-seo’s mother in the weekend drama ‘Under the Persimmon Tree,’ which had achieved a 60% viewership rating after ‘Happy Farewell’.
“Hello, Ma’am.”
“…Right. It’s been a while.”
Lee Seon-ja looked at Yu Yeon-seo with displeasure before sitting down next to Jin Su-ho. Lee Tae-gyeom subtly approached and whispered in Yu Yeon-seo’s ear.
“You met her when you filmed ‘The Doll.’ She played your mother.”
“Ah, really?”
Lee Seon-ja was famous for her excellent self-management, to the point where she had played the mother to both Lee Hui-seo and Yu Yeon-seo.
Im Seung-hyeon watched Lee Tae-gyeom with a peculiar gaze.
Once everyone participating in the reading had arrived, the assistant director took the microphone.
“This is Director Lee Su-ji, who will be leading the production.”
“Hello, it’s a pleasure. This is my first time tackling a full-length drama, so I’ll do my best.”
“And writer Jeong Da-hee.”
“Hello! I’m honored to have this wonderful opportunity to work on my debut piece with such esteemed seniors and actors.”
Jeong Da-hee stood up energetically and explained her feelings and the background behind writing the script. The atmosphere was good. Even Yu Yeon-seo, who usually didn’t participate, was responding, albeit half-heartedly.
“And this is the esteemed Lee Seon-ja, who will be playing the role of Kim Yun-hwa.”
On a film set, the director, writer, and top actors were surprisingly on equal footing. But there was one exception: an older, top-tier actor.
“Hello. I’m at an age where playing a grandmother wouldn’t be strange, so thank you for casting me as a mother. Don’t go too easy on me just because I’m old.”
That was why the actor introductions started with Lee Seon-ja, not the main lead. She made a joke while remaining seated. The room filled with laughter, applause, and cheers.
“Next is Jin Su-ho, who will be playing Park Si-hwan.”
“Hello.”
Jin Su-ho shot up and made eye contact with each person as he greeted them.
Yu Yeon-seo raised an eyebrow. Jin Su-ho, who made sure to look at even the supporting actors, smoothly skipped over one person. It was Yu Yeon-seo.
The assistant director paused for a moment before speaking.
“And Yu Yeon-seo, who will be playing Chunbaek.”
“Hello. I’ll work hard.”
His words were simple but carried weight. Lee Seon-ja looked at Yu Yeon-seo, surprised.
A script reading is for grasping the flow of the story. The script might be slightly altered depending on an actor’s interpretation or habits, and sometimes, an actor might even be replaced after the reading if their character interpretation is deemed wrong.
And now, Yu Yeon-seo, famous for tampering with scripts, and Jin Su-ho, famous for never changing a single line, had met.
People watched Yu Yeon-seo with tense expressions. If a commotion ever broke out on set or during preparation, and Yu Yeon-seo was present, he was the cause one hundred percent of the time.
“You’re going to have to resolve this.”
“Me?”
But Yu Yeon-seo was calmly flipping through his script.
Then, the man who had been slouched in his chair suddenly sat up straight and looked at Jin Su-ho across from him.
“Hello, Master.”
His expression changed in an instant. A serene smile played on his lips, but his eyes were not smiling. His movements were strangely rigid, and combined with Yu Yeon-seo’s obscenely handsome features, he looked unreal.
While a few people stared at Yu Yeon-seo, surprised by the sudden shift in atmosphere, Jin Su-ho maintained his focus and met Yu Yeon-seo’s gaze with a serious expression.
“What is your name?”
“I do not have one.”
Yu Yeon-seo tilted his head slightly and blinked a couple of times. It was a movement reminiscent of something you would see on a 3D game’s character customization screen.
“Then should I give you one?”
“That would be nice.”
“Then… Chunbaek.”
“Chunbaek, is it?”
“Yeah. They say the more rustic the name, the longer you live, right?”
A crack appeared in his robot-like expression. It was the moment an android began to show human emotion on its face.
As the reading was winding down, Yu Yeon-seo, who had been quiet, raised his hand.
“Excuse me, I have a suggestion.”
There it is. If he didn’t interfere, he wouldn’t be Yu Yeon-seo. But instead of bluntly saying, ‘Let’s change the script,’ he said he was offering a suggestion. People, weary from the long reading, lifted their heads.
“In the story, Chunbaek is basically a robot that’s close to human, right? But just from the script, he doesn’t feel like a robot at all.”
“That’s true.”
The android Chunbaek, played by Yu Yeon-seo, gradually becomes more human as he solves cases with Park Si-hwan, played by Jin Su-ho. But he occasionally displays amoral behavior, which might confuse someone who started watching the show from the middle, making them wonder, ‘What’s wrong with that guy?’
“So I think we need to change an external element. What do you think?”
“Actually, I was thinking about that too…”
Jeong Da-hee fiddled with the pen between her fingers.
“Should we give him a beauty mark or something?”
“A mark seems too subtle. How about dyeing his hair instead?”
As Yu Yeon-seo and Lee Su-ji talked, Jeong Da-hee suddenly stared blankly for a moment, then began scribbling furiously in her script as she spoke.
“Let’s dye it. A primary color would be great. Not blue, but maybe red or green, or even white would be good…”
“Red or green might be too jarring on screen… Silver hair sounds good. His name is Chun-‘baek,’ after all.”
“That would give him a mysterious look. I like it.”
“What do you think, Yeon-seo?”
What can I say when the writer and director both want it?
“Let’s do it.”
He shouldn’t have agreed so easily.
“Does it sting?”
“It’s fine.”
Yu Yeon-seo forced himself to relax his expression. He had no idea how many times his hair had been bleached to achieve the silver color. Was his hair going to fall out at this rate?
“All done.”
After a long bleaching process, they finally achieved the desired hair color. Yu Yeon-seo shot up from his seat and stretched.
“Wow, your hair must be so damaged.”
“It still stings.”
Yu Yeon-seo frowned. His body was already in poor condition from the aftereffects of memory synchronization, and now he had to sit for hours to get his hair bleached.
“Let’s head straight to the set.”
“We still have time, though. Okay, fine.”
Yu Yeon-seo leaned back in the van and closed his eyes. The memory synchronization he’d done that morning had yielded nothing. Just a memory of him staring blankly into space in a lecture hall during his freshman year, and another of Yu Geon-min crying while hugging him.
‘This feels awful…’
As the synchronization progressed, he could faintly feel the original Yu Yeon-seo’s emotions, which was somewhat agonizing. He felt like he was about to be consumed by sadness.
After a short nap, Yu Yeon-seo arrived at the set of ‘Dreaming’ and gave a slight nod to a passing staff member.
“Hello.”
“Hello. You’re here early too, Yeon-seo.”
Too?
When he entered the studio, Jin Su-ho and Lee Seon-ja were already seated, observing the set. It made sense for Jin Su-ho, the lead, but for Lee Seon-ja, whose scenes were mostly in the latter half of the series, to be there… her experience truly showed.
“Hello.”
“Yeon-seo, hello. The hair suits you.”
“You’re here early, though.”
“I’m here to get a feel for the atmosphere and flow of the shoot. You too?”
Yu Yeon-seo gave a vague nod. Jin Su-ho and Lee Seon-ja’s eyes widened in surprise as they looked at him. Just a moment ago, Lee Seon-ja had been talking about Yu Yeon-seo’s poor attitude when they had worked together on ‘The Doll’.
“You’ve changed.”
“My hair? Or my personality?”
“Both.”
“…For the better, I hope, Ma’am?”
“Yes.”
Lee Seon-ja’s demeanor had softened since the script reading. Yu Yeon-seo let out a small sigh and stood next to Jin Su-ho, crossing his arms as he surveyed the set.
“So, what are they filming now?”
“They said they’re shooting an insert for the ‘Room of Memories.’”
‘Dreaming’ was a 16-episode drama, and the beginning followed an omnibus format where the virtual reality troubleshooter, Park Si-hwan, pulled people back to reality.
The ‘Room of Memories’ in the show was a device that allowed one to see a person’s past memories, a place they visited to gather information on a case subject beforehand.
“…Huh?”
Yu Yeon-seo’s face crumpled into a deep frown.
It was likely a scene depicting a case subject’s trauma. A staff member brought over a dressed mannequin and began tying it up in the air.
By the neck, as if it were being hanged. His heart pounded in his chest. Yu Yeon-seo covered his mouth with his right hand.
“Wait a minute…”
“What’s wrong?”
Jin Su-ho looked at Lee Seon-ja in alarm. Lee Seon-ja also rose awkwardly to check on Yu Yeon-seo’s face.
A wave of nausea, like the aftereffects of memory synchronization, washed over him. Yu Yeon-seo hung his head low. It was hard to breathe, as if someone were squeezing his throat.
“Do you really have to shoot that right now?!”
At Yu Yeon-seo’s loud shout, the staff stopped what they were doing and stared at him. The once-noisy set fell instantly silent.
“…Fuck.”
Cursing, Yu Yeon-seo bolted out of the studio.