Casting Call
My father burst into laughter. “Hahaha! That’s my daughter for you. I always knew you’d make it big no matter what you did, but an actor that even Lee Jung-moon is clinging to?”
Was I already being treated like a big-name star? Dad showed no sign of panic or worry at all. Instead, he looked at me with eyes full of pride, as if he’d expected this all along—or perhaps as if I’d done something truly impressive.
“But honey… I heard this drama has already started filming. Is it really okay to join in the middle? From what I’ve heard from Kang-ho, the entertainment industry can be such a harsh place.”
Mom’s voice carried clear concern, but Dad shook his head firmly.
“How many chances like this come along in a lifetime? When you’re young, you’re supposed to try everything, quit some things, and figure out what you really want to do.”
He was right. That’s exactly how kids discover their talents and hobbies. Ballet for two weeks at age four. Piano for three weeks at five. Art for two weeks at six. Since I was now a girl, I couldn’t keep living like a tough guy forever, so I’d tried to build up some refinement. My teeth had ground together in frustration. I’d tried to endure it somehow, but my whole body had rebelled. So I’d quit. Even then, Dad had just chuckled warmly and said it was all good experience.
To him, this new offer wasn’t something to worry about. It was simply the best opportunity for his daughter to experience a wider world. As expected from a man whose philosophy was that anyone with a strong sense of self could learn something from anyone they met.
“Seo-ah’s opinion is what matters most. What do you think, Seo-ah? Do you want to do it?”
“Hmm… It does sound fun. The director seems really nice too. I’ll earn a ton of money!”
Becoming the kind of pretty daughter who filmed on set instead of lazing around reading comics at home, who could even help Dad change his car and buy us a nice house, didn’t seem like a bad path at all. It definitely wasn’t because I was scared of Yoon Ji-ah’s repeated threats. Really. It wasn’t.
At my capitalist vow of filial piety, the corners of Dad’s mouth stretched all the way to his ears. Thanks to Ji-ah, we were already touching money that an ordinary family could never dream of. Surprisingly, Dad turned out to be quite greedy himself.
“If my daughter wants to do it, Dad is one hundred percent in favor.”
Without hesitation, Dad reached for the sticky note stuck on the dining table. After confirming AD Kim Min-jae’s number, he immediately switched to speakerphone and dialed.
Tu-ru-ru-ru— Tu-ru-ru-ru—
The ringtone continued for a moment.
It was the voice of a young man—the same one that had chased us down at full speed on the playground.
“Ah, yes. Thank you for your hard work. This is Yoon Seo-ah’s father. I’m calling after receiving the script.”
“Haha, it’s an honor that a master like him thinks so highly of my daughter. As it happens, Seo-ah is full of enthusiasm right now. We’d like to move the contract along quickly.”
Before Dad could even answer, Mom jumped in.
“T-tomorrow? Honey, tomorrow is a weekday.”
She shot him a look that clearly asked What about your job?, but Dad paid it no mind.
“We’ll visit tomorrow morning.”
“It’s about my daughter. What’s a company compared to that? I’ll just take the day off.”
Wow. What a man. Even the assistant director on the other end of the line seemed moved by Dad’s decisive answers.
“Yes, we’ll contact you tomorrow.”
The call ended.
“Seo-ah, I’ll call the school for you, so don’t worry. Let’s go together tomorrow. Mom and Dad will stay right by your side at the station, so don’t feel intimidated.”
“Okay! Got it, Dad!”
I wasn’t sure whether I would be the one feeling intimidated or the person writing up the contract, but I answered cheerfully anyway. My gaze naturally drifted toward Yoon Ji-ah.
At this point, I’d expected her to say she’d come along to look over the contract herself. Instead—
“I can’t follow you around forever. You need to learn how to handle these small things on your own. Since Mom and Dad are going, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“…You’re the worst.”
Was she seriously worried I couldn’t even read a single contract properly? My academic background wasn’t exactly short, and I’d lived long enough to know a thing or two. This kind of treatment was genuinely upsetting.
When I shot her a glare full of that resentment, Ji-ah simply snorted as if the very idea was ridiculous.
“Didn’t you get scammed in a jeonse fraud in your previous life, sis?”
“That’s because jeonse fraud can happen to licensed real estate agents and lawyers too, you brat.”
“I’ve never been scammed once. Oh, wait. Now that I think about it, I’ve never even rented. Everything was owner-occupied.”
I could usually read Ji-ah’s expressions well enough to guess her thoughts or feelings. The twin telepathy thing was real. That’s how I knew. She was being completely sincere. She had genuinely realized, Oh right, I’ve never done jeonse before, and apologized.
Which made it even more infuriating.
“…Loan shark. Financial monster. Economic criminal.”
She had definitely done something illegal. She must have slithered through legal loopholes like a mudfish, committing tax evasion and sucking the lifeblood out of ordinary citizens. If not, this was just too unfair. Even owning one house would be enviable, but everything was owner-occupied? That meant she owned multiple properties at the very least.
Yeah. She really was the worst.
I couldn’t wait for the day I became a legendary actress and knocked that smug look off Yoon Ji-ah’s face.
Tuesday, 9:50 a.m.
KBC Broadcasting Station main building.
Our whole family marched confidently into the lobby. Dad had put on his best suit. Mom had dressed up too. I was wearing a round-neck t-shirt, a cardigan, and jeans. This was the early 2000s, after all—an era often called the fashion dark ages. There was no need for me to become a fashion terrorist as well. I went with a timeless, classic style and left my hair naturally loose. This should look neat and tidy—the best look among all elementary school kids in the world right now.
As soon as we entered the lobby, we naturally headed toward the gate. A familiar face was waiting there.
“Oh? Isn’t that the Rascals Expedition squad leader?”
The security guard waved at us cheerfully. Mom and Dad burst out laughing at the title “squad leader,” but I greeted him energetically anyway.
“Hello!”
This would one day become a heartwarming story that framed me as a polite and bright child from a young age. …Or not. It wasn’t like greetings were annoying or took any effort, so I just went for it.
“What brings you here today? Filming?”
“No, I’m here to meet Director Lee Jung-moon today. These are my mom and dad.”
“Ah! I thought you were all actors! Hello. You all look so handsome and beautiful.”
There was no way this uncle didn’t recognize the actors who came in and out of KBC. He was spitting out blatant lies without even batting an eye, but it did help ease Mom and Dad’s tension, so I decided to stay quiet. The guard looked back and forth between my parents and me, muttering that genetics really were important.
“Oh right, here are your visitor passes. Three should be enough, right?”
“Huh? Don’t we need to fill out some forms or something?”
“Come on, these are the squad leader’s parents. If anything goes wrong, I’ll take responsibility.”
“Thank you.”
Thanks to the guard’s kindness, we passed through the gate without any complicated procedures.
“Our daughter already has connections at the broadcasting station? That’s amazing.”
“Oh please, I just said hello a few times. He treats me well because I’m pretty, cute, and lovable. It’s no big deal.”
“What? Puhahahat. That’s right, that’s right. Our daughter is cute and lovable.”
Just then, the elevator doors opened, and AD Kim Min-jae stepped out.
“…?”
The people who were supposed to be waiting for him in the lobby were already standing in front of the elevator. He seemed to spend a second trying to process the situation before—
“Did the whole family just look so much like celebrities that he let them through…?”
—which made our whole family explode with laughter.
Kim Min-jae scratched the back of his head and approached us.
“Hello! I’m sorry, it looks like I’m late.”
Dad smiled warmly and offered a handshake.
“Not at all. The security guard was kind enough to let us up early.”
Even while shaking hands, Kim Min-jae still looked puzzled.
“…I see. It’s a good thing, but I wonder why he did that.”
I’m the MC of Kkureogi Tamheomdae! That one sentence would explain everything. But saying “I’m kind of a celebrity” out loud felt a bit embarrassing. He’d find out eventually anyway.
Kim Min-jae guided us to the drama department. As we walked down the hallway, the staff we passed kept stealing glances at our family. Dad walked with complete confidence. Mom seemed a little nervous and held my hand tightly. As for me, I strolled along as comfortably as if I were in my own living room. After all, I’d visited the drama department during the Kkureogi Tamheomdae filming.
When we opened the conference room door, Director Lee Jung-moon was reviewing some documents. He shot up from his seat the moment he saw us.
“Oh! Our Seo-ah is here! Mother, Father! Please come in! Thank you for coming all this way. I’m PD Lee Jung-moon from the drama department.”
Our Seo-ah. We hadn’t even started filming yet, and he was already calling me “our Seo-ah.” I could guess just how much affection the director had for me.
“Hello. I’m Seo-ah’s father, Yoon Jung-ho.”
“I’m Seo-ah’s mother, Chae Kang-hee.”
Mom and Dad were huge fans of the dramas Director Lee Jung-moon had produced. Meeting the creator in person must have been deeply moving yet incredibly awkward. I had no choice but to step forward.
“Hello, Director! I’m Yoon Seo-ah, who somehow ended up becoming a rookie actress!”
My cheeky response brought laughter to the conference room and seemed to warm up the atmosphere.
After a few simple greetings, we all sat down around the table. The director immediately pulled out the contract.
“I’ll skip the long introduction. Please give me your daughter.”
“…Pardon?”
My head understood what he meant, but the words still felt a little awkward emotionally. Please give me your daughter sounded exactly like a marriage proposal.
“…I’m sorry. Our PD doesn’t get opportunities like this often, so he’s a bit excited.”
AD Kim Min-jae stepped in to mediate the overly enthusiastic director and translated for him.
“The terms are the highest treatment for a rookie child actor. We’ve shown the maximum sincerity possible in terms of pay.”
Dad accepted the contract. When he and Mom checked the appearance fee section, their eyebrows remained completely calm. I sneaked a peek from the side. There were six zeros. One million won per episode, plus separate fees for flashback scenes, voice appearances, and reruns.
Yet they still looked unfazed.
…What the hell is wrong with our family’s sense of money?
This was 2002, not 2025. A million won was an amount that would leave my mouth hanging open—especially since I was the kind of person who could clear out a convenience store with just ten thousand won. In an era where a bowl of soup cost 2,500 won, black bean noodles were 2,000 won, and gimbap was 1,000 won, how could they possibly stay so calm?!
Yoon Ji-ah must have poisoned our family’s economic values.