Chapter 23: The Mission of a Desirable Director
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 23: The Mission of a Desirable Director
“Tell me what you want. I’ll make every single thing happen.”
Writer Jung Yoon-ah, who had been overcome with emotion for a while, finally managed to compose herself.
Wait, is it really that big of a deal?
I don’t think a drama writer’s sensitivity is something I can ever truly understand. They say you shouldn't stare into the abyss.
“I think it would be enough if I just appeared briefly once, right when I make my exit.”
“Still, don’t you have a specific vibe in mind? I need that so I can put it in the stage directions or force the PD to reflect it perfectly in the scene, right?”
She had a point, but I only had a vague idea of how I was supposed to exit. More than anything, trying to picture an image in my head felt too abstract. I still found it difficult to accept the face in the mirror as my own. It felt like I was looking at someone from another dimension through a glass pane.
Asking me to decide on a specific "vibe" for the screen was a high-difficulty task.
“It might be hard to decide right now, so think about it as we film.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“It would be even better if you wanted more screen time for your face. We could start from the very next scene... No, wait, I’d be more than happy to scrap everything we’ve shot so far and re-film it all without the mask!”
“I have no intention of doing that, and if I did, I think the PD and the other actors would resent me.”
“Who would resent you? They’d be over the moon!”
“...”
“And we can just film your face separately and edit it in, so re-shooting isn't even that grueling. CG technology is so good these days. The world has really come a long way.”
Writer Jung Yoon-ah seemed so delighted that I felt embarrassed. It made me realize that my mother’s expectations weren't the only thing I had been overlooking.
“I’m going to tell the PD, okay? You know there’s no turning back now, right? If you change your mind after I tell him, the PD’s stress-induced hair loss might turn into a brain tumor and land him in a nursing home.”
“...I won't change my mind. I wouldn't have asked to see you in the first place if I were going to do that.”
Was Writer Jung always this high-energy? I could hardly keep up.
Just before leaving, a thought suddenly occurred to me.
“Writer Jung. About what you said—imagining what kind of vibe would be good.”
“Oh, did you think of something already?”
She hurriedly grabbed her phone, ready to take notes.
“It’s not like I thought of a specific, grand scene or anything.”
“Mhm, mhm. Tell me, tell me.”
I just remembered my mother’s face from earlier today—how disappointed she looked when I said I wouldn't be taking off the mask.
“I think anything would be fine, as long as it’s something my mom would be happy to see on screen later.”
“...”
Writer Jung stopped typing and just stared at me. Her gaze was so full of unspoken stories that I started to feel a creeping sense of psychological pressure...
“You’re really too much.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s one thing to be this beautiful, but to have such a beautiful heart for your mother too? It makes me feel so inadequate as a woman and a human being. Do you know how sorry I suddenly feel toward my own mother?”
“...”
“When I was seventeen, all I remember doing was pestering my mom for money and driving her crazy. I need to give her a call today.”
Writer Jung suddenly clapped her hands.
“And let’s keep this a secret.”
“A secret?”
“If she finds out now, she’ll be happy at first. But won't her expectations just keep growing? She’ll start wishing you appeared just a little more, then a little more than that.”
“My mother isn't the type to force me into things I really dislike.”
“Even so, as filming goes on, her anticipation will grow. Even if she doesn't say it, wouldn't you feel pressured?”
Now that she mentioned it, it did seem plausible.
“So, how about giving it to her as a surprise gift?”
“You mean, let her see it for herself when it airs?”
“Wouldn't the impact be several times greater?”
Thinking about it, it seemed like a great idea.
“Gifts are always better when you don't see them coming. As long as there’s love packed inside, people are thrilled no matter what’s in the box.”
“I like your idea. Let’s go with that.”
Writer Jung’s smile felt exceptionally bright today.
“Order received, loud and clear. Leave it to me.”
*
Following Writer Jung’s suggestion, I decided to maintain extreme security. I didn't even tell Jang Ji-hye.
By this point, even I was starting to feel a shy sense of anticipation. It wasn't about how the writer and PD would bring the scene to life, but about how happy my mother would be.
However, as the weekend approached, I was overcome with extreme anxiety. My younger brother—the one I’d be embarrassed to show anywhere—was finally set to deploy to the film set tomorrow. He was about to reveal his terrible presence to Jang Ji-hye, the PD, the writer, the actors, and the entire staff.
Should I just call it off now?
“Still, I feel much more at ease knowing you’re taking Yu-seok along as an errand boy to do the grunt work,” Mom said.
“Do you?”
“If you’d kept him by your side from the start, that Kim Ho-jin fellow wouldn't have dared to hit on our Yu-jin.”
“Exactly! If I’d been next to Sis, a guy like that wouldn't have even dared to speak to her!”
My brother chimed in excitedly, so I gave him a piece of my mind.
“Anyway, you’re still family, so behave yourself so I don't get embarrassed. If I feel even a shred of shame, you’re fired on the spot.”
“Don't worry, don't worry.”
I couldn't help but worry; his very existence was a cause for concern. Still, he was strong (though still weaker than me), so I could use him for errands. He was actually good at that sort of thing.
“So, can I take tons of pictures of you on set now?”
“Of course. Son, don't miss a single shot. Take as many as you can.”
“...Why are you so obsessed with photos anyway?”
“I’m recording history. They say the royal chroniclers even recorded King Taejong falling off his horse, even though he was embarrassed and told them not to, right? I must have been a chronicler in my past life.”
“...You were probably a Panokseon Rower. You can take pictures, but no leaking them.”
“Don't worry. You don't trust me?”
“Don't you remember getting beaten to a pulp for trying to sell my photos back in the day?”
“I only showed them; I didn't hand them over! And that was just a cross-validation to see if the photos turned out well.”
“Then why did you take money?”
“That was a consultation fee. It’s only natural.”
“The flow of money was the exact opposite of what it should have been.”
Mom cut into our conversation.
“Anyway, I’m going to keep them all safe, so make sure you take pretty pictures of your sister, okay?”
“Don't worry, Mom. I’ll show you the skills I’ve honed.”
My anxiety continued to grow. So, I sent a KakaoTalk message to Jang Ji-hye.
[Me]: Jang Ji-hye.
[Me]: Don't be shocked when you see my brother.
[Jang Ji-hye]: Is he that handsome?
[Me]: I told you, no.
[Me]: He looks really ordinary.
[Jang Ji-hye]: Eek!
[Jang Ji-hye]: If you’re calling him ordinary,
[Jang Ji-hye]: I can't even imagine how good-looking he is.
[Me]: It’s not a narrative trick, I’m serious.
*
The next morning, Saturday.
Jang Ji-hye, who arrived at the set in PD Jang Hyun-soo’s car, greeted my brother brightly.
“Hello, Yu-jin’s father.”
“...”
“Yu-jin, is your brother not coming today?”
“This is my brother.”
“...Liar.”
“It’s true.”
“...”
“...”
“I... I thought he was your father because he looks completely different from you...”
Mom didn't miss the timing and laughed.
“Ji-hye, you’re becoming quite knowledgeable about our family’s bloodline, aren't you?”
“Aaah! I-I’m so sorry!”
“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m used to it. It actually makes me feel better.”
My brother bowed his head to Jang Ji-hye.
“I’ve heard much about you from my sister. I look forward to your guidance and instruction.”
“O-oh, okay... I look forward to working with you too...”
“Please, speak comfortably. You are my sister’s only friend; if you treat me with such formality, how could this humble one dare look upon my sister’s august face?”
“Stop it. You’re fired.”
“I-I just wanted to leave a good first impression on your friend...”
I covered my face. Why was the shame always mine to bear?
Even the child actors’ eyes twitched when they saw my brother.
“He’s... he’s your real brother? Really?”
“Yu-jin, is that for real?”
“...Yeah, we don't look much alike, do we? I’m the mutation in our family.”
Whether it was the writer, the PD, the actors, or the staff, everyone was aghast whenever I introduced him.
“Because of that actor Kim, I thought you’d hired a bodyguard, Yu-jin...”
At Writer Jung Yoon-ah’s reaction, my brother thumped his chest like a gorilla.
“Actually, it’s more like my sister should be guarding me. I’ve never beaten her once.”
“R-really? Truly?”
“Yes, my sister is incredibly strong. Most big guys would pass out just from her jabs.”
“Wow, suddenly I really want to see Yu-jin film a combat scene.”
Regardless, my brother adapted well to the set. I thought he’d be a loudmouth, but he blended in quietly like a shadow and did errands well, as usual. That was his only redeeming quality—doing what he was told without talking back. I’d heard that siblings born only a year apart were never like that.
*
PD Jang Hyun-soo watched Lee Yu-jin, who was nodding off in a chair. He also saw her brother, who hadn't stopped fanning her for over thirty minutes. Then, he looked at Writer Jung Yoon-ah beside him.
“I hate to say this, but Yu-jin really looks like she’s the only one in that family who dropped down from heaven.”
“I heard they even did a paternity test when she was a baby. They thought the hospital had swapped the infants.”
“I’d do the same. If my daughter looked like that, I’d never believe it.”
“But the brother’s physique is quite something. I thought he was a world champion MMA fighter or something.”
“Should I try casting him as a tough-guy action actor?”
“Would he even do it? He says his dream is to make his sister a world star and become the CEO of her agency.”
“The family really revolves around Yu-jin. It’s quite touching.”
“By the way, PD, have you thought about how we’re going to reveal Yu-jin’s face?”
PD Jang Hyun-soo smirked, as if he’d been waiting for that question.
“I’ve been thinking about it for a few days. What if we change the setting for the Haeju Sword a little?”
“How?”
When Jung Yoon-ah showed interest, PD Jang marveled inwardly.
To think our Writer Jung would react so graciously to a setting change...
Jung Yoon-ah usually hated anyone interfering with her scripts. She only let assistant writers handle research and proofreading. Even though he had worked with her for a long time, her mild reaction was surprising. It showed just how much she had fallen for Lee Yu-jin.
“The Haeju Sword is originally the symbol of the Hwan Empire’s imperial protection, which the Yeon family has guarded for generations, right?”
“Yes, and the setting is that Yeon Si-ho is the executor of the Haeju Sword for this generation.”
“And the plot is that Yeon Si-ho dies while protecting the Princess, the female lead. The Haeju Sword breaks then, too.”
“Right, right.”
“What if Yeon Si-ho isn't the executor of the Haeju Sword, but the Soul of the Sword itself?”
“...”
Jung Yoon-ah blinked without saying a word. Jang Hyun-soo knew her mind was racing at high speed. After a moment, having organized her thoughts, she spoke.
“So, instead of death, she loses all her power and returns to the sword?”
“Even if it’s fiction, a mother wouldn't feel good seeing her child die. Especially since it’s her debut work.”
“Devoting her loyalty to the very end, exhausting all her energy, and returning to the sword to recover... I think that works. Wait, then to make this ending even more impactful, the things I need to revise are...”
Jung Yoon-ah had already opened her laptop and was focusing on typing.
Jang Hyun-soo looked at Lee Yu-seok, who was still fanning his sleeping sister, and whispered quietly.
“If I reveal that face during her exit in the final episode, will the viewers try to hang me? Well, that wouldn't be so bad.”
As a director, he felt a thrill. There was nothing more rewarding than having complete control over the audience’s emotions.
“That is the mission of a director, after all.”