Raising the Stakes (2)
"We should keep pushing forward with this one."
At that one casually tossed remark, spoken as Tae Sanhyuk pointed at Do Jaehyun on the screen, the air in the conference room grew suffocatingly heavy. Taking a complete, stone-cold unknown—a nobody, no less—straight into a situation that had drawn unprecedented levels of public outrage? For the life of him, no one could fathom what the man was thinking.
Oblivious to their bewilderment or simply indifferent to it, Tae Sanhyuk continued giving orders in a calm, measured voice.
"PD Woo."
"Yes, sir. Yes."
"Talk to the digital planning team and put together a dedicated outsourced crew for behind-the-scenes footage. From today's shoot right through to the poster session and every break-time moment in between—get a camera glued to that kid and capture everything. And Team Leader Park."
"Yes, Bureau Chief."
"Hand it all over to the publicity team, and until the premiere, dole it out in teasers to keep people salivating. Just when the controversy seems to be dying down, drip it out—little by little, piece by piece."
What came out of his mouth was not damage control. It was the opening move of an outright business venture. The publicity team leader, unable to make sense of it, pushed back in a cautious tone.
"But, Bureau Chief. Whether it's teasers or behind-the-scenes clips, that brief a glimpse won't be enough. The public won't be able to gauge whether this actor can actually act, let alone be convinced he's a fitting replacement for Baek Kangmin."
"They don't need convincing. They need to be curious."
"I'm sorry? What do you mean?"
Tae Sanhyuk unfolded his crossed arms.
"When people are curious, they'll go digging whether you like it or not. So what we do is toss out bait, little by little, and let them work themselves into a frenzy—doesn't matter whether they're cursing us or praising us."
A cold, calculating strategy: crank the outrage to maximum and convert it directly into viewership ratings. That said, it wasn't without its problems.
"If you do that... yes, granted, the premiere ratings will explode, exactly as you say. The outrage will have drawn that many eyes. But what comes after is the problem. People will be watching through tinted lenses, ready to pounce on every tiny flaw—and one misstep at that stage, and the backlash only gets worse."
Team Leader Park's desperate objection was met with heavy, murmuring silence from the rest of the room. The fallout from failure was simply too enormous for a second-half tent-pole drama on which the network's very fortunes depended. Their unanimous, unspoken wish was to fold the gamble and play it safe.
"Even if the premiere ratings are good, that's all they'll be. In the long run, the losses outweigh the gains."
It was a reckless venture that could blow up the entire drama in one wrong move. And frankly, footage from a single episode's filming was far too thin a sample to judge anyone's acting on. But rather than concern, a cool, faint smile spread across Bureau Chief Tae Sanhyuk's lips.
"Team Leader Park. That mindset of yours—trying to eat without paying—is ugly."
"Excuse me...?"
"If you want to eat, you'd better be ready to take the loss and dig in anyway. Am I wrong?"
"..."
Meeting the publicity team leader's eyes, Tae Sanhyuk went on.
"You only rake in more when you put something on the line. If we're going to play it perfectly safe without a single scratch, why bother pouring hundreds of millions into a tent-pole in the first place?"
A dangerous gamble everyone else wanted to run from. Far from fearing it, Tae Sanhyuk was positioning himself to flip the whole table and seize it as his opportunity.
"I won't say more. Don't muzzle the noise—just keep the tension razor-sharp until the day episode one airs. If the audience runs out of gristle to chew and tear apart, feed them more."
As the silence pressed down on the conference room, Tae Sanhyuk drove in the final period, his voice a low growl.
A few days later, at the offices of Studio Miracle, the outsourced production company. The lunch hour had just ended and a drowsy haze hung over the room when Kim Seongjun, a rookie PD who'd been glued to his monitor, suddenly burst out.
"PD Nam! I think tvM is seriously, properly screwed this time!"
"Why? What article popped up now?"
Across the desk, PD Nam Taejin took a sip of coffee and responded with studied indifference.
"It's not that a new article dropped—it's that nothing has, and that's the problem. Every community, every social media feed, every tabloid sponsored rag is in an uproar over the parachute-hiring scandal, and tvM still hasn't issued a single official statement. They're just... quiet."
"...They're still quiet?"
"Yes, sir. Usually when something blows up this big, they rush out a denial statement first thing, don't they? But these guys are just sitting on their hands? People might actually be right that there's something dirty going on. Right?"
At the certainty in Kim Seongjun's voice, the fingers clicking away at Nam Taejin's mouse went still. He spun his chair around to face the rookie.
"Hey, Seongjun."
"Sir?"
"Word is, a few days ago tvM gathered every single one of their top brass for an emergency meeting. Even Bureau Chief Tae showed up in person."
"Whoa, seriously? Wow. And they still couldn't come up with a countermeasure... Yeah, they're dead in the water, huh?"
"..."
Good grief, what an idiot. Weariness pooled in Nam Taejin's eyes as he looked at the rookie.
"Think about it. All those bigwigs gathered in one room racking their brains, and they don't put out a single rebuttal article? Broadcast network people? They're not fools—so why would they do that?"
"Ah, come on. They're just guilty, so they're keeping quiet. Everyone can see the guy's a parachute hire."
"...Is that what you think?"
"Yep, yep. A hundred percent."
A flat, one-dimensional answer—befitting a rookie who knew nothing. Nam Taejin gave a dry, disbelieving laugh and flicked his empty paper cup into the trash.
"You really don't know a thing, do you? Kid, listen up. If they were actually guilty, denying it and squirming out of it is how everyone in this industry operates. They should be tripping over themselves to buy off the tabloids and bury it under forced puff pieces—that's what's normal. But instead, they're sitting there with their mouths firmly shut, absorbing hits with no defense whatsoever? One look at that and you've got to figure something's up their sleeve."
"Hmmm... I don't know about all that."
"Ugh. Why do I even bother talking to you."
Just then, a face flashed through Nam Taejin's mind. Tae Sanhyuk, Bureau Chief of tvM's Drama Department. As the man's face surfaced, his brow furrowed instinctively.
"And another thing. I actually worked with Bureau Chief Tae back in the day, when he was still a senior-grade PD."
"Huh? Seriously?"
"Yeah. Anyway, I learned one thing about him from that experience: that man never takes a losing deal. Even at a table where everything's already decided, he'll scheme until he's scraped every last bone off the plate. So for a greed-driven guy like that to be just sitting on his hands 'to minimize losses'? Come on. None of it adds up."
His instincts—honed through years of surviving every kind of storm this business could throw at him—were sharpening to a razor point. Nam Taejin was just opening his mouth again to air his thoughts when—
"NOOO!! What in the actual hell is this garbage?!!"
A roar erupted from across the office, bestial enough to be mistaken for a wild animal's cry. The source of that voice was none other than PD Ji Seoyun. For reasons unknown, she was clutching her phone and spewing pure fury.
—I'm so sorry... I must have been out of my mind back then.
"Are you kidding me right now?! What do you mean the writer didn't write it?! Then you should have said so from the very beginning!!"
—The script was just so good... I briefly lost my mind wondering what it'd be like to have it go out under my name, and that's how it happened...
Writer Kim Myeonghwan's stream of apologies crackled through the phone. At least he'd finally come clean now—was that a silver lining? Yeah, right. Not even close.
"Th-then! That real script! The one you sent me first—that 'Untitled' script! Who's the original author? I need to know whose it is before I can figure out how to clean up this mess, don't I?!"
—I don't know that either... I was organizing files a while back, and I honestly can't remember where it got mixed in from... In any case, I'm beyond ashamed. Truly...
"You absolute—!"
Click. Bzz-bzz. Bzz—
"H-hello? Hello, Writer? Writer Kim Myeonghwan?! AAAARGH!!"
Tearing at her own hair and kicking at empty air, she looked every bit the raving lunatic.
At her sudden outburst, Nam Taejin and Kim Seongjun beyond the partition, along with every other employee in earshot, recoiled in horror and averted their eyes.
"AAAARGH! What the hell is this!!"
In hindsight, the red flags had been everywhere. Writer Kim kept postponing the submission of episode three—that was bad enough—but hadn't he also handed over some incomprehensible slush of text, claiming he'd "revised" the existing script? She should have caught on right then. Damn it all.
"Um, Seoyun? Seoyun-ssi?"
Out of nowhere, one of the junior assistants crept up and gingerly tugged at her sleeve.
"...What."
"Um, that is... Department Head Park is asking for you."
"...! D-department Head?!"
In an instant, the madness blazing in Ji Seoyun's bloodshot eyes ran stone cold. What took its place was sheer, crawling terror.
'Oh, god. Oh no...!'
Why would the Department Head be looking for her? Wasn't it obvious? The script. That godforsaken script that had just lost its owner.
'What do I do? Do I tell the truth? No, are you insane? If I do that, my head might roll before anyone else's!'
With not the faintest idea who actually wrote that script, she couldn't just blurt out a confession. As she spiraled into a full-blown panic, pupils quaking, Ji Seoyun's gaze landed on the pile of other writers' stopgap proposals and scripts stacked on the corner of her desk.
I'll just grab those for now. She hastily scooped up a few scripts from the writers who at least seemed semi-competent, then dragged her trembling legs toward the department head's office.
Knock, knock.
As Ji Seoyun carefully opened the door and stepped inside, Department Head Park Hoseong looked up from his approval forms and broke into a wide, beaming smile.
"Oh! There's our little goldmine!"
That goblin's warm, gracious smile—the same man who, on any ordinary day, wouldn't have spared her so much as a glance beyond a curt "Yeah, what." That unnaturally warm welcome sent an icy chill slithering down Ji Seoyun's spine.
"D-department Head. You called for me...?"
"Ah, yes, come sit over here. As it happens, I've got plenty to discuss about that script."
"..."
"The higher-ups are buzzing with expectations, I tell you. A-list directors are lining up right now, each one fighting for the chance to direct it. Hahaha."
Every word out of Department Head Park's mouth landed like a death sentence tightening around her throat. The pot had grown—far, far too big. There was no un-stirring it now, not at this stage. What on earth do I do? Her mind was whitening out to a blank.
"So here's the thing. When can I expect Writer Kim's episode three script? We need it out ASAP so we can lock the casting and move into the table read. Got any draft at all, even a rough one?"
The inevitable had arrived. Ji Seoyun swallowed a dry gulp and carefully laid the bundle of scripts she'd been cradling onto the table.
"D-department Head. Could you, um, take a look at these first...?"
"Oh? What's this? Already done? Haha! Our Ji PD really does get things moving. Well then, let's have a look."
Department Head Park picked up the scripts without a shred of suspicion. But as he turned past the first page, and then the second, the smile hanging on his lips gradually faded away. He snatched up the remaining scripts and skimmed them at speed—but of the episode three of 'Untitled' he so desperately wanted, there was not a trace to be found.
Slam!
Department Head Park Hoseong hurled the scripts irritably back onto the table.
"...Ji PD. What is this?"
"Th-that is... these are, uh, works I've been keeping an eye on lately... I was curious what you'd think of them...."
"Did I ask you to bring me this trash? I told you to bring me Writer Kim Myeonghwan's episode three, right now—and this is what you come back with?"
Annoyance was creeping into Department Head Park's eyes, bit by bit. Watching it build, Ji Seoyun realized she had nowhere left to retreat. In the end, she resolved to come clean about the whole affair, every last detail.
"Um, D-department Head, sir. The thing is...."
A short while later. Having finished the story in a voice shaking like a leaf in the wind, she bowed her head deep and added her apologies on top. And Department Head Park's reaction, upon hearing it all—
"..."
He simply froze, saying nothing.
He looked as though someone had pressed his pause button. Then, slowly regaining his senses, he opened his mouth with glacial deliberation.
"S-so, let me get this straight... what you're saying is... that script wasn't written by Writer Kim?"
"Y-yes, sir.... I'm so sorry. I should have verified everything from the very start...."
"Ha... haha. Hahahaha!"
A hollow, broken laugh burst out of Department Head Park. Struggling to suppress the fury boiling up inside him, he asked:
"Then who's the original author? The writer who actually wrote that script—who are they?"
"...I don't know."
"You—YOU CRAZY LITTLE—!!"
CRASH-BANG!
Only now did the torrent of profanity erupt from Department Head Park's mouth. Even though the department head's office was thoroughly soundproofed, his lion's roar was loud enough to rattle the entire office floor.
"Are you insane?! A PD who can't even keep her writers straight?! You're not even a blithering idiot, so how does that make any sense?!!"
"I-I'm so sorry! I'll take responsibility somehow—!"
"Responsibility?! RESPONSIBILITYYY?!! Fine, you know what, let's hear it! How exactly are you planning to take responsibility?! This writer's name, face, home address—do you know even one of them?!"
"..."
"You don't know a single thing, and 'responsibility' is coming out of your mouth?! Is there anything going on inside that head of yours or not?!!"
He looked like a man one spike of blood pressure away from clutching the back of his neck and collapsing on the spot.
"Hoo! No, never mind. You spoke up—that's something. Fine. Now get out there and find them."
"...I'm sorry, what?"
"GODDAMMIT! You said you'd take responsibility, so you take the L!! Go find the original author! RIGHT NOW!!!"
"Ah—y-yes, sir!!"
"GET OUT!"
A sheaf of documents went flying past her back, slamming into the door and scattering noisily across the floor. Ji Seoyun practically fled from the office.
Click—
The moment the door clicked shut behind her, silence swallowed everything. But in stark contrast to that stillness, her heart was hammering like a war drum.
"Find them from WHERE, HOW?!...!"
Truly, all she wanted to do was cry.