I Woke Up and the World Had Changed (4)

"Haah..."

Team Leader 3 let out a heavy sigh, his face drawn into a grim scowl.

"And Cat Guardian Spirit? Did they know about it over there too?"

"No."

This time I was the one who answered.

"I called a little while ago. They had no idea."

I'd already spoken with CEO Kim Pan-seok, and with Director Shin Tae-gyun as well. The conversations were brief, but they were in the same place I was—startled only by how fast the controversy was spreading, and not the least bit worried about the thing actually at the center of it: Lee Songha's acting.

If they were worried about anything, it was her state of mind.

"They really didn't know?"

"No. Pan Production's in a scramble over this too. Word is there's plenty of talk inside TVL, so we agreed both sides would sort things out in internal meetings and talk again after."

Team Leader 3 nodded and shifted the subject.

"So what exactly is Songha being charged with? Getting the role as a package deal—and what else?"

"The crime of getting above herself. What else."

Kim Hyunjo raked a rough hand through his hair and blew out a breath.

"A lot of people figure her singing's lacking, so she's sniffing around dramas to get by on her face. And the fans of idol-turned-actors who actually earned their recognition the hard way are even louder. They're saying she's getting every one of them cursed out along with her."

"Controversies like this, you've got to stamp them out early—"

Team Leader 3 broke off and suddenly pulled out his phone. He checked the screen and answered at once.

"Director. Oh, you've arrived? Then I'll head up with everyone now."

Still on the call, he beckoned Team Leader Park and Kim Hyunjo. Then, abruptly, he looked at me.

"Yes, he's right here. One second."

Tilting his head, Team Leader 3 held the phone out.

"Fortune-Kicker. You take this."

"What?"

"The director's asking for you. Take it. Hurry."

I took the phone before I quite knew what was happening.

"Yes, this is Jung Sunwoo."

…Huh.

I'd been sure I'd hear the division director's easy, rumbling voice. This was different. Low, and soft. I knew I'd heard it somewhere, and the moment I thought so, it came to me. It was CEO Baek Han-sung.

In the space of a second, a handful of things flickered past my eyes. Sung Do-won's face. My first car, still waiting to come off the lot.

"Ah, yes. That's right."

Good, obviously. As good as it could possibly be.

I was still choosing words for a more presentable answer when the voice came again.

"Ah."

I swallowed once and answered.

"The new coach we found took one look ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at Songha and said there was nothing left to teach ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her. If she's really only been studying acting for a few months, then she was born with it. These days he barely even offers advice—he's afraid that if he meddles, some strange tic will stick. And on the Cat Guardian Spirit production side as well..."

A low laugh had slipped into his voice.

What I thought?

He was asking what I thought?

"I think it's more than—"

"With Songha's acting, I believe it's more than enough to put this controversy to rest."

There was so much certainty in my voice that it startled even me. I licked my dry lips and looked up to find every one of them watching me, puzzled.

"Ah. Yes."

"Yes. They did."

With that, the line went dead.

The conference room in TVL's drama bureau.

Department Head Song, chief producer on Cat Guardian Spirit, crushed an empty paper cup in his fist.

"Cheap bastards. Splashing filth in somebody else's rice bowl just so they can eat well themselves? I ought to march over to Knet and flip their whole damn table..."

Muttering darkly, he looked across at Director Shin Tae-gyun. Whether the man was sleepy or simply thinking, he had been sitting there the whole time with a thoroughly indifferent face.

"Tae-gyun. Director Shin. Songha's acting really is solid, right? Seo Ji-joon's tied up in this too, so it's not like we can yank her the second there's a controversy... We just pulled the veil off, and if she can't act? Then it's not only the show that suffers. It's shit on our faces."

"..."

"You really did cast her off a proper audition, didn't you? You didn't actually bring her in along with Seo Ji-joon—"

"If you're going to keep talking like that, I'm leaving."

Shin Tae-gyun stood. Department Head Song slapped the table, incredulous.

"Yah, how can you be indifferent even to something like this? You're not worried?"

"I'm not. So please stop calling me in over useless things like this."

"Useless?! Are you walking around ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with your ears shut? This has blown up!"

"I don't care. We haven't even started shooting, so what does it—"

"Hey! The bureau chief is worried too, you idiot!"

Shin Tae-gyun, halfway into his parka, stopped. He scratched at the bird's nest of his hair a few times, making it wilder still, and let out a small sigh.

"When have you ever seen me shoot with an actor who can't act? If you don't believe me, we ran a camera test on audition day. Watch the tape. I'm really going."

He said it flatly and walked out of the conference room. He hadn't taken more than a few steps before an assistant director latched onto him.

"Um, sunbae."

"What now. Let me have a cigarette, and then we'll—"

"Marketing keeps calling, asking you to do an interview. What should I do?"

A crease dug in between Shin Tae-gyun's brows.

"An interview?"

"I told them you don't really do interviews, that you hate that sort of thing, that you barely manage a word or two even at the production presentation. They keep calling anyway. From marketing's side, it's a chance to promote the drama without spending a won."

Shin Tae-gyun was just opening his mouth when his phone rang. He checked the caller and answered at once.

"Sunwoo?"

He listened to the other end for a moment, then hung up, and turned to the assistant director.

"That camera test we did of Lee Songha last time. Send it to W&U."

"What? Yes."

"And the interview..."

Shin Tae-gyun hesitated. The assistant director, watching his face, spoke first.

"Should I shut it down with marketing? Tell them absolutely not?"

"No. That... hmm. For now, tell them to wait."

At the unexpected answer, the assistant director's eyes went round.

At the same time, in the Next K-Star production office at Knet.

PDs and writers alike were buzzing in there, faces lit up, when PD Go Joon-tae stepped in. Greasy hair jammed under a low cap, a jaw rough with stubble, the look of a man who had been sleeping rough for days—but his eyes alone glittered with excitement.

Once every gaze had gathered on him, he passed the paper in his hand to an AD.

"Everyone already knows this, but read it out once. Officially."

"Yes, sir."

Everyone cheered, clapping or drumming on their desks. Go Joon-tae then handed the AD another sheaf of papers.

"This too."

"Yes, sir. This one's minute-by-minute! The peak rating is... huh?"

Flipping through to the minute-by-minute numbers, the AD hit the passage marked in highlighter, and his eyes went wide.

"Why? What is it?"

"What? How high did it go?"

The AD swallowed hard.

A tremendous shout broke loose.

Cable's rise had been unmistakable lately, but programs that could post numbers to rival the terrestrial networks were still a minority. Most of them remained stuck around one percent, and that was the reality. For a newly launched show—not even a returning series—to break a peak of three percent on its very first episode was something anyone would cheer for.

Amid the uproar, Go Joon-tae called the other PDs over.

"The good Neptune footage—the stuff we cut in editing because we ran long. Hand that to marketing. Have them cut it into clips and put them up on the official site and socials."

"Yes."

"Make another teaser, too. Plaster Lee Songha's face on it, big as a barn door..."

Just then, someone knocked on the glass door from outside the office.

A middle-aged man, notable for his carefully styled hair and an expensive muffler. Department Head Choi, chief producer of Next K-Star. Go Joon-tae left a few more instructions and stepped out.

"Hyung, you see the ratings?"

"Of course I did. You worked hard. The bureau chief's pleased, too. Inquiries for ads and product placement keep coming in."

"Next episode, the ratings go even higher."

Go Joon-tae said it with the corner of his mouth drawn long. Department Head Choi nodded, though his expression stayed uneasy.

"The ratings are good, but now it's the cleanup that's the problem. From the way public opinion's going, if that Lee Songha girl really can't act, she won't be the only one catching hell. TVL's going to get torn apart too."

"What's that got to do with us? We just need our ratings to come in. When we were begging them to book us a few actors as guests, did TVL lift a finger? No. And W&U—their PR team has been reaming me out since this morning, for what it's worth. That woman's temper is no joke. End of the day, we basically launched Neptune for them, and they pitch a fit because one out of four is getting dragged? A company that size ought to see the big picture."

Go Joon-tae clicked his tongue, then went on more quietly.

"Anyway, I had something I needed to say to you about that."

"Something to say?"

"Could you talk to the bureau chief and get a meal set up with the W&U CEO? Grease the wheels a little. From the reaction, it looks like there's plenty more to squeeze out of Neptune, and we've got to soothe them along nicely all the way to the finale."

Go Joon-tae gave Department Head Choi a gentle poke in the side. Choi's face crumpled at once.

"You throw the bomb, and I clean it up?"

"We got the ratings, didn't we? A director's job is just to deliver the ratings, no?"

He shrugged, and in the end Department Head Choi sighed.

"Ratings are a thug. A damn thug. Haah... if Baek Han-sung decides he's been crossed, we can't handle him."

"Why? Last time I saw him, CEO Baek seemed soft-spoken. Nice guy."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

Department Head Choi let out a dry laugh.

"You think a man who's only nice turns a one-man shop into a major agency in ten years? He's not ordinary. Not him."

I rolled my stiff shoulders and stole a glance up.

Everyone, CEO Baek Han-sung included, was fixed on the laptop set on the table. The playback had ended, and the screen had been drowned in black for a good while already, and still they stared.

The air in the CEO's office was like that day. The day Lee Songha auditioned in Pan Production's cramped meeting room. The same strange silence hung here. While the video had been playing there had at least been murmurs of admiration; now it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

They all seemed to have plenty they wanted to say, and were swallowing it on account of Baek Han-sung.

He had been sitting with his legs crossed for some time, thinking. His face, as ever, gave nothing of what he felt away.

What was that reaction?

Don't tell me he hadn't liked her acting?

Impossible. Like the others, a different light had come into his eyes while he watched.

With long, pale fingers, Baek Han-sung tapped the arm of the sofa. Tok. Tok. Slow. The steady sound went on a while longer, then cut off clean.

And at last he opened his mouth.