“Huh? How did you get here?”
“I told you, didn’t I? That we’d meet again.”
Hyungkyu was a bit flustered by the atmosphere, which was quite different from the last time the man had come to see him.
“Ah… Please, have a seat first.”
Since he was a guest who had come to visit, Hyungkyu offered him a seat on the sofa, and Incheol sat down.
“Last time, I think we made our position quite clear, but what brings you back here…?”
Hyungkyu asked about the purpose of his visit in a calm tone.
“You were right about everything you said. My reputation is in such a mess that I regret just avoiding it.”
“People with a guilty conscience tend to run away. Ah, of course, I’m not saying that’s you, Director.”
He quickly added the words in case there was any misunderstanding.
“I know.”
“As I said before, who am I to judge the rights and wrongs of that incident? But as the CEO of the agency, I have no choice but to make decisions for the sake of my artists…”
Incheol interrupted Hyungkyu, who was repeating the same story from last time like a broken record.
“Just a moment. Please take a look at this first.”
Then, he pulled an envelope of documents from his pocket and placed it on the table.
“What is this?”
“Did you think I’d come back empty-handed?”
He’d seemed unusually confident from the moment he entered—what could it be?
Out of curiosity, Hyungkyu quickly opened the documents Incheol had produced.
“The distributor… is already set?”
Independent films often finish shooting but can’t secure screenings and fail to release… How did he manage that?
“Yes, not only the distributor, but I’ve got all the staff lined up too.”
“The staff as well?”
“Yes.”
There was a reason for his confidence.
“How…?”
Even if he’d used past connections for the staff, securing a distributor shouldn’t have been easy.
Especially since filming hasn’t even started yet, and it’s already confirmed.
“I really want to get this work out into the world. I’ll make sure it doesn’t harm Hyunjae, so don’t worry about that.”
Incheol pinpointed exactly what Hyungkyu was concerned about.
He doesn’t seem like the type to lie…
But that didn’t mean he could just say yes right away.
“May I ask why you want Hyunjae for this role?”
The protagonist of Clash was an eighteen-year-old boy who runs away from an orphanage, wanders the streets, gets involved with runaway teens, and eventually ends up transporting drugs.
It was a style distinctly different from the scripts he’d received so far, but it wasn’t a role that suited Hyunjae either.
“I first met him on the set of a commercial shoot.”
“I heard about that. It was for a soft drink ad, right?”
“I originally had no intention of directing it, but I was forced into it.”
Incheol began sharing his own story.
“But that kid kept getting under my skin. A newbie shooting his first ad, constantly trying this and that…”
Even without seeing it, Hyungkyu could picture the situation.
The kid never did anything half-heartedly, so he must have been giving it his absolute best.
“It made me feel so pathetic that I wanted to give it another try.”
“But this role is…”
“I got curious. About how far that kid can go, and how far I can push him.”
In truth, Hyungkyu wasn’t sure either.
It was an unconventional, difficult role, and it was hard to imagine Hyunjae in it with his current image.
“I’m confident.”
But what aspect of Hyunjae had this director seen to make him so certain?
It was intriguing.
“Uh… I understand your thoughts, Director. In any case, I need to hear the actor’s opinion too, so I don’t think I can decide right now.”
“Of course. Hyunjae’s opinion is important.”
“I’ll talk to him and get back to you.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Unlike last time, when he’d stubbornly lingered and pleaded, this time he politely bowed and left the CEO’s office.
I didn’t expect him to resolve it this quickly.
Hyungkyu had assumed that since these were people with some influence, production wouldn’t even happen, but to persuade them and secure distribution—it was an impressive feat.
Hyungkyu retrieved the script for Clash that he’d stashed in the bottom drawer.
***
And he opened the first page, reading it from the beginning again, imagining Hyunjae as the protagonist, Juho.
On the set of Love Some.
“Hyunjae.”
“Huh? Writer!”
While preparing for filming, he ran into Hyerim after a long time.
“What brings you all the way to the set?”
“I’ve finished the final episode, and I felt like I should stop by at least once.”
“Ah~ I got the script for the last episode too. It was so fun getting each episode’s script from you, Writer—I’m really going to miss it.”
It was disappointing that it was over, after eagerly anticipating what would happen next with each script.
“Really?”
“Yes! Totally!”
“I tried to follow the original while filling in its shortcomings, so I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Hyerim had accurately identified the original’s flaws and worked hard to address them.
It was a talent essential for a writer.
“I’m looking forward to your next work, Writer!”
This one was an adaptation, but he was curious about the story Hyerim would create on her own.
“Actually, I came to thank you, Hyunjae.”
“Me?”
“Yes, I feel like I didn’t get to do it properly last time.”
Did I?
But there’s no need for her to thank me. Hyerim had earned this position fair and square through the contest; it was her own ability.
“You don’t need to thank me. You earned it with your talent.”
“You were the first to recognize my ability. If you hadn’t come to find me back then… I wouldn’t be here now.”
Hyerim gave a bittersweet smile as she spoke.
“I just gave a little nudge; you’re the one who put in the effort and made it happen.”
As they were passing the credit back and forth, Haewon appeared with a bright voice.
“Writer~”
She seemed to have come after hearing that Hyerim was here.
“Aren’t you being too much? Coming to see Hyunjae first!”
“Haewon, have you been well?”
“Yes~ I’ve been great. The final episode script is ama~zing! As soon as I saw it…”
Haewon linked arms with Hyerim and dragged her off somewhere, leaving him alone again.
“I’m pretty sociable myself, but I can’t beat that noona.”
As he sat back down to look at the script, Hayoon tapped him on the shoulder.
“Why?”
“The CEO has something to say to you.”
“Something to say?”
“Yeah.”
Why the sudden call?
“If he calls me out of nowhere, it’s scary… Do you know what it’s about, hyung?”
“It’s probably about that script.”
“Script? What script?”
He hadn’t been looking at any new scripts lately—maybe a new one came in, and he wants to talk about the next project.
“You know, that one…!”
“Which one?”
“Clash.”
“Huh? Clash?”
Why is that coming up here all of a sudden?
He’d said absolutely not back then, and I’d accepted it, so the discussion was over—what’s this about?
“Yeah. It seems like he wants to talk about that.”
“But the CEO and I already talked it out back then? We decided not to do it?”
“Well… Apparently, the director came to the company again.”
“The director?”
“Yeah, so I guess they talked.”
Hyungkyu, who had been so adamant against it, wouldn’t be easily persuaded.
What on earth had been said?
“Anyway, he said he has something to discuss with you, so stop by the company when you have time.”
He was so curious about the details that he wanted to call Hyungkyu right away and ask.
“Hyung, when do we have time?”
“Uh… Today might be tough, but tomorrow during lunch break, we could probably stop by briefly.”
“Tell him I’ll go then! But where’s the script for Clash?”
He had a feeling he should reread the script before meeting Hyungkyu, so he looked for it.
“I have it.”
“Right!”
He remembered handing it to Hayoon, telling him to read it since he was curious about the content.
“Did you read it, hyung?”
“I did.”
“What did you think?”
He’d found it appealing, but he was curious how Hayoon felt about it.
In a way, Hayoon’s evaluation might be more representative of the general audience.
“Uh… It read smoothly.”
“Really?”
“And it had a very raw feel. Like it wasn’t polished or anything?”
Hayoon nailed it exactly.
That unadorned, raw feeling. Incheol had captured the essence of independent films perfectly.
“What about the fun factor?”
“The fun… Honestly, I’m not sure.”
That was understandable.
It didn’t have a protagonist defeating villains with superpowers like in commercial films, or romance-filled love lines, or comic relief characters.
“But I thought I’d just skim it, and before I knew it, I’d read to the end.”
Still, it was clearly a script with pulling power.
“Hmm… If this got made into a movie, would you pay to see it, hyung?”
“Uh…”
Hayoon pondered the question deeply.
How many people in Korea pay to see independent films?
They only get seen if word of mouth spreads; otherwise, aside from real enthusiasts, no one watches them.
Even big commercial films with top stars get skipped because tickets are expensive—independent films?
That’s ridiculous.
“If the trailer is well-made, I think I’d watch it.”
But the words from Hayoon’s mouth defied expectations.
“Huh? You’d really watch it?”
“Yeah! I got curious about what happens to the protagonist, how far he goes.”
The story of the protagonist, starting with stealing snacks from a store after leaving the orphanage, then escalating to bicycles, laptops, money, and eventually drugs, seemed to pique Hayoon’s interest.
“Ah~”
“But anyway, my opinion isn’t what matters… Yours is more important.”
“What are you talking about! Your opinion is super important, hyung.”
“M-Mine?”
“Of course. You’re the most mainstream one.”
No matter how good my eye is, now that I’ve started acting, I can’t help but view scripts from an actor’s perspective.
That’s why I need opinions from someone mainstream like Hayoon.
“Really?”
“Yes. Hyung, can you bring the script tomorrow? I want to reread it before meeting the CEO.”
“It’s in the car! I’ve been carrying it around since I didn’t know when you’d ask for it…”
“As expected! My hyung!”
Where did a manager like this come from? If he were a puppy, I’d want to lick him all over.
The next day, during lunch break from filming, I slipped out briefly and headed to the company.
“The situation has changed a bit. The filming staff is all set up perfectly, and the distributor is decided too.”
“Huh? But back then, it was definitely…”
“Apparently, the director persuaded them somehow and came back.”
“The director?”
“Yeah.”
I knew he was passionate enough to come see me in person and deliver it, but to resolve it all at once like this.
Impressive, huh?
I’d thought he wasn’t that strong since he went into hiding after the incident, but he was more than I expected.
“I don’t want to keep the director waiting any longer. So I want to convey our side’s decision quickly.”
I’d received this script before the premiere of Today’s Fruit Shop, so Incheol had been waiting quite a while.
“You’ve already read the script, so I’m sure you’ve made up your mind. Right?”
“Yes.”
Maybe because we’d done three projects together now, he knew me too well.
“I’ve already decided. What about you, CEO? What do you think I should do?”
“I…”
Hyungkyu shared his opinion as if he’d been waiting for the question.