Chapter 15: The Mother’s Faith, the Actor’s Trial

The headquarters of Moms Food, located in Sinsa-dong, Gangnam-gu.

The ten-story office building, constructed last year, looked solid even from the outside.

The interior’s vintage yet neat décor perfectly reflected the taste of the company’s CEO, Jung Sejin.

“Yuseok.”

In the CEO’s office, located on the top floor, Jung Sejin immediately turned around as soon as the door opened, her face tense and anxious as she paced the room.

“Oh... it’s you?”

Without a word, Jung Sejin quickly walked over and embraced An Yuseok.

Well, to be precise, it was An Yuseok embracing her, since he was a bit taller than her.

Neither Jung Sejin nor An Yuseok needed much to fill the long gap since their last meeting.

I stood a step back and quietly watched their reunion.

For some reason, a sharp ache stirred in my chest.

Though I couldn’t begin to imagine how it felt to reunite with family after such a long wait,

I could easily guess how warm and heartfelt a hug from one’s only blood relative must be.

“Thank you. Truly, thank you so much.”

“Thank you, writer-nim.”

Jung Sejin and An Yuseok kept expressing their gratitude.

Jung Sejin looked at me with curious eyes and asked,

“But how did you know Yuseok is my son?”

“Oh. The drama we’re working on together, , features twin protagonists who were raised separately in facilities and then adopted into different families. While researching similar cases, I happened to see your interview in a magazine. When I heard Yuseok lived in a facility, it felt strange but convincing—like fate. After digging a little, I found that the time Yuseok entered the facility coincided with the time you lost him.”

I pulled out the prepared notes, adding a small fee for my efforts.

I figured CEO Jung Sejin would naturally be curious about this.

“Wow… writer-nim, that’s amazing.”

“Actually, since that interview, I’ve been contacted a few times by people claiming Yuseok is their son. So when you sent me that letter, I was half in disbelief. Really, thank you. And by the way……”

Jung Sejin hesitated before speaking.

She wanted to offer some kind of reward, something that no amount of money could buy.

That was an expected reaction.

But the one hoping for a reunion was An Yuseok, eager to quickly rise to stardom and become the protagonist of my drama.

If that happened, the reward from Gatflix would be more than enough.

“A reward? I didn’t do this expecting anything from you, CEO.”

“I understand. But as Yuseok’s mother, I’d feel uneasy if I didn’t do something.”

“Me too, writer-nim. If there’s anything I can do, just say the word.”

Hearing both of them speak like that brought a smile to my face.

“Ah, sorry. You two look so alike.”

Jung Sejin’s hair was tied back neatly, without a single strand out of place, and she looked so youthful that it was hard to believe she was in her fifties.

I realized where An Yuseok’s looks came from—the resemblance in her small face, eyes, and nose was striking.

An Yuseok wore a simple white t-shirt and black slacks, while Jung Sejin wore a white blouse paired with a black silk skirt.

Both in looks and style, they were a flawless image of mother and son.

Just seeing the two of them was heartwarming.

“Yuseok will succeed as an actor, one way or another. Even if it weren’t me, you two would have met.”

“Hmm… in that case, may I see the script for the drama  where Yuseok stars?”

“The script?”

“I’m not familiar with media, but I do have some experience in investment.”

In an instant, CEO Jung Sejin’s gentle motherly face transformed into that of a businesswoman.

She said she had invested twice in films, though not in dramas.

She believed the Korean media industry had high risks but also high returns, and she wanted to invest in .

“Investing in a drama where my son stars would be a proud thing as a mother.”

Her proposal was completely unexpected.

To invest in .

“Is that so…”

“What do you think, Yuseok?”

“Oh, if Mother does that, I’d be extremely grateful. Honestly, the script is great, the writer and director are wonderful, but I heard the drama might be canceled because of Park Taewon’s situation.”

“Yuseok, that kind of information should be kept confidential.”

“Ah! Sorry, writer-nim.”

I paused and glanced at CEO Jung Sejin.

An investment in —though unexpected—felt like a very promising opportunity.

“If it’s not a reward but an investment, I gladly accept. Of course, after reviewing the script and evaluating its value through proper channels. But on one condition—I have a counterproposal.”

“What is it?”

“I want An Yuseok to be the male lead of . I’d like that to be the investment condition.”

“Huh? Me as the male lead?”

“Is that what you mean? That you’ll invest only if our Yuseok is the main actor?”

“Frankly, as a rookie, it’s almost impossible for An Yuseok to star in a mini-series drama. Since you’ve invested in movies, you roughly know the logic of capital—if the actor isn’t profitable, production is difficult.”

“That’s right. That’s why I only invest in works that have potential.”

“Conversely, if you invest, the fact that Yuseok is a rookie might be overlooked.”

“Then let me be clear as an investor. Is Yuseok capable of leading a drama as the main actor?”

Indeed, no one just becomes a company director. 

Investing in a drama where your son appears as a supporting actor is very different from investing in one where he’s the lead.

The question is whether he has ‘investment value’ as an actor.

“I’m confident that An Yuseok should be the lead in .”

“Why go that far…”

An Yuseok’s confused expression slowly turned cautious.

It’s hard to accept that someone believes in you more than you believe in yourself.

“Because five years from now, An Yuseok will be the most successful actor in Korea.”

* * *

“I absolutely cannot accept that.”

Director Kim Seungpyo slammed the script onto the desk.

At H Studio’s CEO office, Hong Joohee had gathered Kim Director, the assistant director, and me to discuss finding investors—on the condition that An Yuseok would be cast as the lead.

Kim Director’s reaction shocked not only Hong Joohee but me as well.

Since Hong Joohee was a woman, she stumbled with eye contact and replies, but now she looked as fierce as an angry bull ready to charge.

“Director Kim, please calm down. You know the situation—our previous investors pulled out because of the Park Taewon cancelation issue. Now, the only offer is to cast An Yuseok’s grandfather as the lead, so we have to accept this proposal.”

Hong Joohee stood her ground calmly. Although casting An Yuseok’s grandfather as the lead was a stretch, her point was valid.

“When Park Taewon was throwing a fit during the reading, I held back because the drama needed to proceed. Whatever, his acting was excellent, so I figured he wouldn’t cause trouble on set. I don’t want to direct; I just want everyone to focus on what they do best. The lead actor should have the acting skills I expect, that’s all.”

“An Yuseok’s acting isn’t bad. You’re the one who chose him for the role of Oh Songtaek, instead of more well-known actors.”

“But An Yuseok’s acting is only about that level, just good enough for Oh Songtaek.”

“Bringing out the best in an actor is also the director’s ability.”

Hong Joohee carefully balanced calming Kim Seungpyo without dismissing his concerns.

It was a head-on clash between two strong-willed people.

“CEO, let’s be honest. Isn’t it true that because An Yuseok’s mother is an investor, you can’t say anything and just pass the buck to me?”

“As the production company CEO, I only brought in the funds.”

“You’re the one who cast Park Taewon in the first place. Isn’t this all part of a prearranged plan, telling me to shut up and film it?”

“Director, I cannot give up on An Yuseok in this situation.”

“Fine, then I’ll step down.”

“Oh, Director…”

Park Sangtae, the assistant director who had been watching their fight with wide eyes, interrupted Kim Seungpyo.

“Responsibilities or whatever, no matter what you say, I just can’t do it this way.”

Kim Seungpyo stood up and left the room.

I hurriedly followed him.

“Director Kim.”

“Writer-nim, I’m sorry you had to see this. But I really don’t think this is right.”

“Yeah, I messed up the timing, but actually…”

I told Kim Seungpyo about meeting An Yuseok’s mother and the investment.

“So, do you agree with CEO Hong’s idea?”

I nodded. I was the first to suggest casting An Yuseok as the lead.

Feeling a bit sorry for Kim Director, I avoided his gaze.

“But Director, did you know An Yuseok worked backstage at a Daehangno theater troupe for three years?”

“There are tons of those kids. No matter how times change, many remain in the theater scene.”

“You haven’t seen him perform?”

“You mean An Yuseok acting on Mondays?”

“By chance, yes. Honestly, his acting was beyond my expectations, even the concerns you raised.”

“Writer-nim, I’m not doubting your eyes. But the theater and film worlds are different. And I have to shoot my scripts outdoors. If I don’t have confidence in my work and actors, how can I direct?”

“I’m not blindly telling you to cast An Yuseok.”

I stepped back. There was no point adding fuel to the conflict with CEO Hong.

“Let’s hold another audition to see if An Yuseok is fit to be the lead in .”

“Sure.”

“Even then, if it weren’t for the director’s feelings, I’d oppose casting Yuseok as the lead.”

Kim Seungpyo stared at me before exhaling deeply in anger.

“I really want to film .”

Every word was filled with sincerity.

“So we’ll take a proper look at An Yuseok’s audition.”

Yuseok, do you know how much effort I’m putting in for you?

* * *

‘One hundred million won in cash!’

I recalled the reward from Gotflix and said to Kim Seungpyo,

“Of course. No more, no less, just focus on the acting skills the director expects.”

No matter what happens, An Yuseok must pass the audition, even if it means redoing all his acting scenes. Absolutely!