Chapter 17: Brothers in Name

First, the remaining Script Reading had to be finished.

Seon Min-gi, barely managing to compose himself as he stepped out of the van, suddenly froze.

The moment he opened the door and got out, he ran straight into Taeha.

“Senior.”

Only briefly startled, Seon Min-gi just stared at Taeha with a blank expression, so Kim Nam-sun hurriedly stepped in.

“Oh, Taeha-ssi. What brings you here? Did you park on this side too?”

Kim Nam-sun asked anxiously.

The timing was bad.

Already, Seon Min-gi had been on edge because of Taeha.

“No. I have something to say to Senior.”

“To him? Right now?”

Kim Nam-sun’s face immediately darkened.

He glanced at Im Chan-hyung as if asking him to stop the two actors from clashing, but Im Chan-hyung looked just as troubled and helpless.

Trying to calm things down, Kim Nam-sun spoke to Taeha.

“Whatever it is… We have the second Script Reading soon, so unless it’s urgent, can’t it wait until we’re done? Or do it separately later?”

“It’s not urgent, but the sooner the better.”

“Huh?”

At that moment, Kim Nam-sun’s pupils wavered, a wave of confusion hitting him.

Seon Min-gi spoke up.

“What is it.”

His tone was sharp, as if daring Taeha to just say it, his gaze cold.

At a glance, Taeha’s was the kind of handsome, gentle face that made a good impression.

But to Seon Min-gi, it was just an annoying face that somehow always managed to get under his skin.

Not because he was a lucky Rookie,

Or out of frustration that Taeha’s acting style was different from his own,

Or even because Taeha, after being ignored twice, still showed no sign of being intimidated—so brazenly bold.

All those feelings weren’t really Taeha’s fault, but rather problems of Seon Min-gi’s own heart.

But even knowing that only annoyed him more.

It made him feel like he was being turned into a petty person for no reason.

The tension seemed to mount, with the two men—both over 180cm—standing face to face.

While the two Managers swallowed dryly, Taeha finally spoke.

“Senior, how old do you think I look?”

“Is he crazy?”

For a moment, all three—except Taeha—thought the same thing.

To come up to your senior, claiming you had something to discuss, and then ask his age out of nowhere?

Seon Min-gi looked at him, almost dumbfounded.

But since he was the one who had asked what this was about, he had no choice but to answer.

“Twenty-five or six? Around there?”

He decided not to bother being polite or using honorifics with someone who asked such absurd questions.

“Pretty close. I’m twenty-four. So there’s even more of an age gap than just a zodiac cycle with Senior. I’m really that young.”

“…So what?”

Kim Nam-sun barely stopped himself from blurting that out.

Im Chan-hyung felt not just baffled but on the verge of tears.

He knew Taeha had recently gained confidence, handling himself with boldness and honesty wherever he went, never letting himself be cowed.

But he hadn’t realized it was to this extent.

He should have stopped him as soon as he heard those audacious words about ‘changing your mind.’

He had thought things had been going well so far, and had trusted that Taeha would handle it wisely. That was the problem.

As a Manager, maybe he should stop this even now—but it was too late. The water had already been spilled.

As expected, without giving Im Chan-hyung a chance to intervene, Taeha continued.

“No matter how well I do, at best I’m just an up-and-coming… you know, someone like that. If Senior soars, then that’s like a dragon ascending to the heavens. There’s no comparison between us. Our roles and weights are totally different.”

It was a strange way of talking, raising himself up but raising Seon Min-gi even higher.

“Obviously.”

Seon Min-gi replied, making no attempt to hide his irritation, but Taeha paid him no mind and asked,

“But is there really any need to reduce my screen time?”

The direct, fastball question made the air around them grow even colder.

Seon Min-gi fell silent for a moment.

He could have immediately shot back—what was he talking about, was he accusing him, was he trying to make him look bad?

But Seon Min-gi felt no need to lie or make excuses to Taeha.

As someone who had been an unknown actor, he knew that, without a good reason, trying to cut another actor’s lines was a petty thing to do.

But in this industry, as Kim Nam-sun had said, it was common for leads to ask for more screen time.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because it’s better for you, Senior?”

“What?”

If there are stars and the moon and clouds in the sky, a dragon is only truly cool if it ascends among them.”

“If you’re the only one flying in a blank sky, where’s the fun in that? The audience won’t enjoy it either. You know that.”

The Managers started to get headaches at Taeha’s chiding tone, but Seon Min-gi said nothing.

Because he understood what Taeha was getting at.

“The Main Character is only you, Senior.”

Taeha gave a faint smile, his voice clear and certain.

“There’s no comparison to any other work you’ve done. From beginning to end, this story revolves around you. There isn’t even another role that can stand next to yours. That’s why you chose this, right? But if you get greedy here… you’ll only ruin the show.”

“So arrogant…”

“If I get just a little more arrogant, you won’t have to be anxious at all.”

Seon Min-gi even forgot to keep his expression in check and just froze.

He’d suspected it, watching Taeha act.

Good instincts, smart too.

“But I didn’t think it would be to this extent.”

Beyond the question of screen time, Taeha was making him reflect on why he’d chosen this project,

Why he wanted more screen time…

Seon Min-gi was being forced to confront his own impatience and deep-seated anxieties.

“This project will give you exactly the results you want, Senior. Just have confidence in yourself.”

If not for his impatience, Seon Min-gi would have had plenty of confidence himself.

He wouldn’t have gone to the Writer and asked for more scenes without seeing the whole picture.

He wouldn’t have lost his cool at things not going his way, taking out his anger on a Rookie by ignoring his greetings.

“Yeah. I was too impatient.”

He’d been missing the real issue all along.

Seon Min-gi felt his face flush hot.

Twenty-four. As Taeha had said, still so young.

He was both embarrassed that Taeha had seen right through him, and mortified that what was exposed was so very pathetic.

“How did you….”

Taeha looked at the slightly spaced-out Seon Min-gi and laughed lightly.

“Geez, Min-gi. Not knowing is actually harder.”

Partly, he’d experienced the pressure and impatience of wanting to prove himself.

But Taeha, as a Writer, had also dealt—directly and indirectly—with many actors.

He’d often heard about actors’ situations and inner struggles from Managers.

Especially under Baek Seung-chul, he knew all about the concerns of A-list leading actors.

In truth, their worries, the things they desired, were all of a similar kind.

So from Taeha’s position, it wasn’t hard to figure out Seon Min-gi’s behavior with just a bit of thought.

“The movie … it was practically a one-man show. It’s obvious why you picked it. This project is the same.”

Instead of explaining how he’d seen through Seon Min-gi, Taeha chose to boost his confidence.

“You’re reading the script now. Director is going to take good care of you. So, Senior, you just have to do what you’ve always done. Just as you always have.”

He’d watched Baek Seung-chul persuade and coax actors so many times that this wasn’t hard for him.

“Then we’ll all hit it big and be totally happy.”

Taeha’s playful tone was so different from his earlier seriousness that Seon Min-gi couldn’t help but let out a weak laugh.

In that moment, Taeha could tell that Seon Min-gi had accepted what he’d said, at least in part.

“He’s not completely hopeless after all. Then, let’s strike while the iron’s hot.”

“Oh, and Senior, can I call you ‘hyung’ instead?”

“What?”

Another bizarre question, not even giving him a chance to recover.

Taeha knew well that, to get close to people as taciturn as Seon Min-gi, you had to be the one to approach first.

“Not letting him catch his breath before pushing again.”

Of course, he’d have to be careful not to cross the line.

“In the show, we’re like sworn brothers, right? I think it’d be more natural for my acting if I called you ‘hyung’ in real life, too.”

“Is that necessary? You’re already doing fine.”

“Really? Thanks for the compliment, hyung!”

“…Is he nuts?”

Taeha’s unbreakable boldness made the other three think the same thing at once.

A gentle-faced young master, but so blunt in his directness—and even shamelessly sly.

“I should have known from when he tried to charm everyone at the opening greeting.”

Seon Min-gi thought.

At the same time, he felt a little sorry for having ignored Taeha, and embarrassed at being read so easily, so he just wanted to get away from the situation.

So he replied with a sigh,

“Do as you want.”

With that, Seon Min-gi was the first to leave, followed by Kim Nam-sun.

Watching the two walk away, Im Chan-hyung clutched at his chest for a moment.

It felt like he’d just ridden a roller coaster in the span of a few minutes.

He couldn’t believe what Taeha had just said to Seon Min-gi, the Main Character and his major Senior, even though he’d heard it all right there.

Im Chan-hyung stared at Taeha, stunned.

“You.”

“There won’t be any awkward greetings anymore. Right?”

“I guess not…”

At Taeha’s question, Im Chan-hyung had no choice but to nod.

He was that flustered and mentally out of it.

***

The next Script Reading session began.

Kim Jeong-sik reviewed the lines, checking if any dialogue needed revising based on the actors’ performances.

He also gave the necessary comments on their acting.

Since everyone was present, he only commented on the most important things that everyone needed to understand to help them grasp the script, taking care not to hurt the actors’ pride.

“Hyo-jin-ssi, it would be good if you could act a little brighter than now.”

“Wouldn’t that feel awkward? Yoon-ha’s situation is so dark right now.”

“If your acting is dark too, the character—and the story—might feel too heavy from the very start.”

“You, Writer.”

And so, in this smooth atmosphere, the Script Reading was wrapped up.

Taeha and Im Chan-hyung could sense that the way people looked at them was already quite different from when the first Script Reading began.

And they knew things would change even more once filming started.

It wasn’t as intense as it was for most Rookies, but even for Taeha, it was a day full of various pressures and burdens.

Not just in acting, but in trying to break the tense atmosphere, Taeha had done his best, so as soon as he got home, he collapsed right into bed.

“Even as a Writer, the first Script Reading always made me super nervous and exhausted.”

Seeing your writing brought to life by actors was a whole different thing.

It was the first day the cast had gathered to act out his script…

“In some ways, I was more nervous than for the first broadcast.”

Thinking about this and that, Taeha was eating a late breakfast when it happened.

[Are you free for a call right now?]

Bzzz, bzzz—along with the vibration, a message from Writer Kim Jeong-sik arrived.

“What’s this? We had the first Script Reading yesterday, so maybe it’s just a call to encourage me.”

Taeha thought, pressing the call button without hesitation.

And thought,

“I actually have something I was curious about—might as well ask now.”

***

That’s how the phone call began.

In that call, Taeha received a certain piece of news.

It was a shocking story related to .