Drag That Writer In Here Right Now! (2)
The room was silent except for the sound of my ragged breathing and fingers hammering away at the keyboard. Even that faded into white noise the moment I sank into the work.
Tap-tap! Tadadadak! Tap-tap!
I stared at the screen without blinking, fingers moving on autopilot as text poured out. Then I'd delete it all and start over. Again. And again.
"Hmmm... yeah, it's still garbage. Might as well tear the whole thing apart and rebuild from scratch."
Just as I was delivering my usual unsatisfactory verdict on my own work, it happened.
—Bzzzt! Bzzzzzt!
My smartphone, lying face-down on the bed, suddenly started vibrating like it was having a seizure. I didn't even reach for it. Just clicked my tongue.
"Ugh, seriously. Again?"
Had my number been sold off somewhere? For the past few days, calls from unknown numbers kept coming in nonstop. And every time I actually picked up, it was nothing but incomprehensible babble about some contest or other.
"Why is there so much spam lately?"
The vibration showed no sign of stopping. Three solid minutes of relentless buzzing, grinding my nerves down to dust.
"Agh, damn it!"
My patience finally snapped. Time to cuss somebody out. I pulled my hands off the keyboard and snatched up the phone. But the caller wasn't spam.
"...? Yoon Dongwoo?"
Eight missed calls. All from this guy. But Dongwoo wasn't the type to cling like this. Did something happen? Frowning, I hit the call button.
—"YA, YOU CRAZY BASTARD!!!"
The roar blasting through the speaker nearly made me hurl the phone across the room.
"Jesus, you scared me. Are you insane? Why are you screaming all of a sudden?"
—"INSANE? YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S INSANE, YOU DUMB SON OF A BITCH! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT'S HAPPENING AT MY STATION RIGHT BECAUSE OF YOU?!"
"? Why would I know what's going on at your station."
—"You little—!"
I held the phone away from my ear, but his booming voice still filled the entire room. What the hell was this about? Why was he so furious?
—"Haaah...! Don't tell me you forgot. That night you got drunk crying about quitting your job?"
"What about it."
—"I TOLD YOU I WAS SUBMITTING YOUR SCRIPT TO THE tvM OPEN CONTEST!"
"Contest? What the hell are you talking about. Were you drunk?"
—"ARGH! YOU should've checked while you were wasted, you lunatic! You absolute—!"
Dongwoo spat out a thick stream of curses, then started firing information at me like a machine gun. The conversation from that drinking session. How he'd submitted my script to tvM's contest. And the results.
Several minutes passed. By the time I'd pieced together the full story, nothing came out of my mouth.
—"Remember now?"
"Uh, yeah... sort of?"
—"SORT OF, MY ASS. This is why I keep telling you to lay off the booze. The drama department just went into FULL EMERGENCY PROTOCOL because of you!"
Honestly, I couldn't believe it. My script made it past the second round of judging? They even issued a special directive just to track down one no-name writer like me?
I couldn't tell if I was dreaming, or if this bastard was dreaming and talking in his sleep. But then I dug up those spam calls from the back of my memory. They had definitely been rambling about a broadcasting station and a contest. So what he was saying was true, and those calls had been from an actual station PD?
"...Wow. What have I done."
—"You lunatic. If you get it now, call them back immediately. I'm hanging up!"
Click.
The line went dead and the room fell silent again. My head, on the other hand, was a complete disaster zone.
"Wait... the only rom-com I've ever written is Living with an Ex-Boyfriend by Chance."
A novel I'd written on a random impulse while watching a romance drama. A tragic work abandoned midway because the quality was worse than a writing exercise. After that, I'd lost all confidence in the rom-com genre and never touched it again.
That script passed to the final round?
Unbelievable. Was tvM out of their minds? How terrible did your judgment have to be to make a choice that stupid?
No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than another call came in.
[02-XXXX-XXXX]
"..."
Probably tvM. Well, I'd answer, but what was I supposed to say first?
"Sorry, I mistook you for spam, read-rejected all your calls, and blocked your number"? Full confession? God, too embarrassing. Couldn't do it.
I picked up, deciding to just listen to what they had to say first.
—"H-hello?! Writer-nim! One moment, please! Don't hang up!"
"..."
The voice on the other end was desperately urgent. Like someone clutching a lifeline, every ragged breath coming through raw and unfiltered.
—"We understand you may not be interested in the contest itself! But then how about working with us directly on a project? Of course, we'll offer you the absolute best compensation and terms!"
"I'm sorry, what?"
—"There's still one slot open in our second-half weekend primetime lineup, and we WILL lock you into it! The signing bonus and per-episode fee will match established writers immediately—no, we'll match A-list rates so you won't feel shortchanged! Scheduling, casting, everything will reflect your input as top priority...!"
Another machine-gun rap, just like Dongwoo a moment ago. I was so caught off guard I couldn't get a word out. But maybe my silence was being interpreted the wrong way, because the PD on the other end grew anxious and spoke up carefully.
—"C-could we perhaps meet in person first? I'd like to visit you directly and explain everything in detail."
"...Not today. Day after tomorrow or the day after that."
—"Th-thank you! Then please reach out when you're available! We'll come to your residence right away!"
"Yeah, sure... whatever works."
I had no idea what was happening anymore, but somehow I'd locked in a meeting. After fumbling my way through ending the call, I slumped back into my chair.
"How did things end up like this..."
I'd sworn off broadcasting stations forever when I left SBC. And now, through the most absurd twist imaginable, fate had dragged me right back in. Ridiculous. Was I born under the star of the entertainment industry or what?
"I wonder if they're doing okay over there, though."
The SBC drama I'd left behind, now under Park Junhyung's main direction. By now, they'd probably started filming. But the thought of that set lasted only a moment before something bitter spilled from my mouth.
"I hope it crashes and burns."
SBC Drama Department, Conference Room 3.
Under a suffocating weight of tension, one man's irritated voice rang out across the room.
"I'm telling you, we can't just let this scene slide through! The character's emotional arc doesn't line up at all!"
"W-well, that section was already aligned with the writer-nim during our last meeting..."
"Haah, and it's still not good enough, which is why I'm saying we fix it again. I'll handle talking to the writer myself."
Park Junhyung, PD. The man who had stolen the main director's chair of Beyond Memory—a debut project that should have belonged to Ji Yeonwoo—hurled the script onto the desk in irritation. The assistant directors and junior PDs watching him kept their heads bowed low, swallowing silent sighs.
Ever since main direction had shifted from Ji Yeonwoo to Park Junhyung, the production had begun spiraling. Every section he rewrote spawned new problems, and the script's quality was plummeting by the day.
'There he goes again. He's the one who didn't bother understanding the script properly.'
'This is driving me insane. Meetings with Ji PD-nim never went past an hour.'
'If he has time to throw a tantrum, he should just do his own damn job.'
'If Ji PD-nim had stayed on as main director, we'd already be in shooting by now...'
Just as everyone was silently stewing in their grievances, someone burst through the conference room door with a grim expression. Kim Soyoon, the head writer of Beyond Memory.
"Ah, Writer-nim, perfect timing."
Park Junhyung greeted her with an abrupt about-face into warmth, as if his earlier scowl had never existed. Kim Soyoon, on the other hand, looked distinctly unimpressed.
"PD Park. What exactly do you mean when you say episode 3 needs revisions?"
"Ahaha, well, I read through the script and felt the episode 3 ending was a bit weak. How about we just rework that one section?"
"Rework it? That ending is a scene I spent weeks of all-nighters debating with Ji Yeonwoo PD to complete. It's the scene that cuts through to the very core of the work..."
Park Junhyung had always harbored an inferiority complex toward Ji Yeonwoo. Sure enough, the moment the writer mentioned his name, his displeasure surfaced openly.
"Haah, this is so frustrating."
"...I'm sorry, what?"
"What did Ji PD really know anyway? The guy couldn't even get a single credit to his name. Total rookie. You of all people should understand how much experience matters in this industry, Writer-nim."
A rookie who couldn't even debut. It was a jab at Ji Yeonwoo and a slap in the face to Kim Soyoon all at once—because she, too, was a new writer on the verge of her first credit.
"Writer-nim, just trust me and follow my lead. I've been eating and breathing direction for years now. You think I can't handle one scene? Hmm?"
"..."
"And since we're on the topic—let's change the scene where the protagonist holds back tears and forces a smile into a full breakdown. We'll bring in a water truck, drench the set in rain, and have him pour out his emotions in absolute agony. Great visual, right?"
"...If you do that, the character we've been building since episode 1 completely falls apart."
"This kind of melodrama plays well with audiences these days. And dramas are all about that visual catharsis—that's what makes them satisfying to watch."
Kim Soyoon was already exhausted from the endless pressure from SBC and PD Park Junhyung. She didn't have the strength left to fight head-on anymore. With a heart full of resignation, she nodded. At her reluctant surrender, the corners of Park Junhyung's mouth curled upward in triumph.
Soon after Kim Soyoon left, Park Junhyung resumed barking out instructions in that same irritated tone.
"Alright, we've got the revision direction locked in, so everyone move fast. You all remember the episode 3 ending scene I mentioned? We need a water truck, so pull together a list of controllable outdoor locations. And PD Kim, check with the art team on the set blueprints and get them on my desk immediately."
But the responses that came back were a sight to behold.
"Location candidates? Nothing's been shared with us. Didn't you receive the handover, PD-nim?"
"The art team blueprints were something Ji PD-nim was handling directly with the art director, so we don't know how far along things are."
"Right, and that was also Ji PD-nim's direct line of communication, so there's no way for us to verify the current status."
SLAM!
Park Junhyung smashed his fist on the desk and shot to his feet.
"You bastards can't open your mouths without saying Ji Yeonwoo, Ji Yeonwoo! Why do you keep whining about someone who's already GONE?!"
"..."
"Just do what you're told and say 'yes sir' without any backtalk! Why do you keep dragging his name into it as an excuse?!"
His bellowing reverberated through the conference room. Of course, Park Junhyung was the only person who had received the full handover from Ji PD, including final confirmations. Every task he'd just delegated was something the main director—himself—should have been handling all along.
"You incompetent idiots!"
But Park Junhyung, whose confidence was as baseless as it was bloated, could never reach that truth. Instead, he believed with iron conviction that his own incompetence was actually the incompetence of his subordinates. And then, on top of that—
'And that damn Ji Yeonwoo is just as much of a problem. The main PD's a retard, so of course everyone under him is a complete mess too.'
The truth was, he'd planned to dump all the actual grunt work on Ji Yeonwoo. But with that bastard gone, there was no one left he could trust with anything.
"Um, PD Park?"
The junior staff member who had been hanging back nervously stepped forward. Park Junhyung answered with an irritated scowl.
"What now."
"You know our first shooting location? The reservation date doesn't align with the actor's schedule, so—"
It was one of the landmines Ji Yeonwoo had deliberately scattered throughout the handover files right before quitting. But before the report could even finish, Park Junhyung cut in.
"Hey."
"Yes?"
"What did I just tell you to do?"
"Uh, that was... you said to pull a list of locations accessible by water truck—"
"THEN WHY IS THIS BASTARD—!"
"AGH!"
Park Junhyung kicked the assistant director squarely in the shin without warning.
"Do the job you're assigned! Don't go sticking your nose into things nobody asked about, you little shit!"
"I-I'm sorry..."
"GET OUT!"
The assistant director limped away, clutching his throbbing shin. Park Junhyung clicked his tongue as he watched the man's retreating back—completely unaware that the report he had just brutally silenced was about to come back to him as a bomb.