Chapter 73: Breaking Scripts and Breaking Ties

“Fall apart?”

Yeah, it’s looking really shaky.

If even Hyungkyu was saying this, the situation was genuinely worrisome.

The investors who came in for Ji Seojin are pulling out.

“Oh.”

The overseas investors are still in because of the webtoon, but if the others all bail, who knows what’ll happen.

I was at a loss. 

Projects collapsing in this industry wasn’t unheard of, but for a drama I was in to face this crisis with less than a month until filming?

“But the original webtoon’s really popular.”

It was a hit webtoon—surely it wouldn’t just collapse like this?

With so many webtoons being adapted these days, it’s hard to bank on that alone. 

I’m preparing for the worst, so you should too.

Hyungkyu told me to keep that in mind and hung up. 

I stared at the script I’d been working with for months.

This feels so empty.

To think the drama I’d poured so much effort into could fall apart over a dating scandal.

I’d grown attached to this project, and after bonding with Hayoon over her relationship troubles and talking about the drama, I felt reluctant to let it go. 

With lingering attachment, I started rereading the script.

[Kangha! I missed you so much!]

[What? Why’re you acting like this?]

[I should’ve done this from the start… stayed by your side. I like you!]

[…]

[Where are you going? Kangha, I said I like you!]

This is so good…

The script captured the webtoon’s heart-pounding, fluttery vibe perfectly, with a unique charm that was distinctly this drama’s. 

Especially the male lead, Lee Kangha.

[If you keep doing this… it makes me want to stay by your side.]

In the early episodes, he had a mysterious first-love aura, but after the female lead’s regression, he gets swept up by her proactive attitude while still showing his sly, fox-like charm that made hearts flutter.

What if… I took that role?

The thought hit me. 

I’d never dared to aim for the lead since even the supporting role felt like a stretch, but now, greed crept in.

If they’re looking for someone to fill the empty spot, why not me?

No need to overthink—I called Hyungkyu right away.

“CEO! Can I take the male lead role?”

And got shot down immediately.

No way! 

Why would you jump into the lead role of a drama that might collapse any second?

“It might not collapse.”

Stop talking nonsense. 

The writer’s even thinking of bailing—where do you think you’re going?

“The writer’s bailing?”

The writer?

Yeah! 

It’s a total mess.

“What does that mean?”

The project’s falling apart, so the writer wants out too.

You think they can just find a new writer now?

This… is even better!

I already knew—the brilliant first four episodes were all thanks to the assistant writer’s talent. 

A head writer with zero passion or understanding of the project couldn’t craft those intricate foreshadowings or dialogues that meshed so well with the original.

Besides, you weren’t even that excited about this project to begin with. Why the sudden change?

“CEO, I’ve changed my mind. I really want to do this!”

***

“They’re dating? Ji Seojin’s way out of her league!”

Jina ranted in the writing room after hearing about Seojin and Hayoon’s dating scandal.

“The article says it’s not true, so it’s probably not.”

“You’ve got a lot to learn. You believe that?”

“Well, if they say it’s not…”

To Hyerim, their relationship wasn’t the issue. 

The bigger problem was Seojin dropping out of the drama.

“Teacher, the drama will still go on without issues, right?”

“Go on? With Seojin out, the investors are pulling out too.”

Jina was already gathering info through her connections.

“So what happens to the drama?”

“What do you think happens? Obviously…”

Jina’s phone rang mid-sentence, and she stepped away to take the call.

“Unnie, this feels bad…”

“I know…”

Hyerim had practically carried this project, so her attachment to it was stronger than anyone’s.

How can my work just collapse like this?

Episodes 1 to 4 were crafted with so much care, she’d poured her soul into them. 

Biting her lip anxiously, Hyerim waited for Jina to return.

“Ugh, it’s a total empty shell. Alright, I’m hanging up.”

Hyerim perked up at Jina’s voice leaking from outside.

“What happened?”

“It’ll go on without issues, right?”

“I knew it. Everyone’s adapting webtoons these days, so of course something like this happens.”

For Jina, the scandal was a godsend.

I was already struggling to come up with ideas—this is a blessing.

She’d taken on the project to prove she could write trendy stories after being called outdated. 

But she hadn’t realized how tough and complex adaptation was—so many unnecessary foreshadowings, no slow buildup, just light and rushed. 

Even if she wrote well, only the original would get praised. 

She’d wanted out for a while, and this was her chance.

“It’s probably going to fall apart, but honestly, isn’t that a relief?”

Jina was genuinely thrilled, but Hyerim was shocked.

I spent months pouring my heart into this… How can she say that?

Hyerim was furious—first, that Jina didn’t see this as her own work, and second, that she could be happy after seeing Hyerim’s sleepless nights of effort.

“Let’s wrap this up and start a new project.”

“Teacher, I’m sorry, but I’m leaving.”

The combination of those two grievances made her explode.

“What?”

“Huh?”

Both Jina and the junior assistant writer were stunned. 

Hyerim, who’d always been compliant and never defied Jina, was quitting?

“Are you upset because the project’s falling apart? You know this happens sometimes.”

“No, that’s not it. I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I need to say it now.”

Jina had seen plenty of people storm out in a huff, but Hyerim’s calm, resolute tone told her this was final.

“What’s your problem? Are you mad I haven’t let you debut?”

“No. If I had the skills, you would’ve let me debut already.”

Jina flinched slightly. 

Truthfully, Hyerim was ready to go independent, but finding a replacement was hard, and Jina didn’t want to let go of someone she’d nurtured.

But leaving like this out of nowhere?

How could Hyerim, after all Jina had done, betray her like this just because the project collapsed?

“You! What’re you going to do out there at your age?”

“I’ll find something.”

“Going under another writer? No one takes half-baked know-it-alls like you.”

“No. I don’t even know if I’ll keep writing.”

“What?”

If she’d said she’d go solo or join another writer, Jina might’ve tried to stop her with anger. 

But quitting writing altogether? 

Jina was thrown.

“You know me—once I say no, it’s no. I’m giving you a second chance because it’s you. Think carefully. You’re really leaving?”

“Yes.”

Hyerim answered in less than a second after Jina finished.

“Fine, if that’s your choice. By the end of the week…”

“I’ll pack and leave today.”

“What?”

“Thank you for everything.”

Hyerim bowed 90 degrees, drawing a clean line.

“You’re really going?”

“I learned a lot under you.”

“I… ugh!”

Jina, out of words to hold her back, stormed out.

“Wow… I’ve never seen unnie so firm.”

The junior writer, watching it all, realized quiet people are scarier when angry.

“Stay and take care of Teacher.”

“Are you crazy? If you’re leaving, how can I stay? I can’t deal with that witch. I was going to quit after this anyway.”

“There’s still a lot to learn.”

“No way. But unnie, are you really leaving?”

The junior, surprised by Hyerim’s sudden decision, asked again, but her resolve didn’t waver.

“Yup!”

Hyerim had no regrets. 

She silently packed years’ worth of belongings, including the four Love Some scripts she’d revised hundreds of times. 

Though Jina’s name was on them, they were undeniably her work.

***

With the situation spiraling, the director requested a meeting, and Hyungkyu came along.

“You’ve heard how things are going, right?”

“Yes.”

We met at a rundown neighborhood bar, with Hyungkyu by my side.

“Director, you must be worried sick.”

“Ha, this mess blowing up out of nowhere has me all over the place.”

Hyungkyu poured a drink for the director, who let out a deep sigh.

“Hyunjae’s sticking with us, right?”

The director seemed worried I’d drop out too, and Hyungkyu, picking up on it, responded tactfully.

“Haha, we’d love to work with you, Director. But you know~ he’s a rookie, so he’s got to hustle.”

“I know. Hyunjae’s getting a lot of attention from the drama, and the vibe’s good. That’s why I pushed for him as Doyoon. If we can just find a male lead, we’ll start filming soon.”

Finding a male lead was the only hurdle, but with Seojin’s exit and his dating rumor with Hayoon, no one was stepping up.

“By the way, what’s up with the writer? I heard they’re dropping out.”

“That’s… just a scheduling conflict. It’ll be fine.”

A lie. 

Hyungkyu noticed the director fidgeting with his pants under the table.

This isn’t good.

Hyungkyu shot me a look that said this was bad, but I ignored it.

“Director, about the male lead…”

“Hyunjae?”

Hyungkyu, sensing what I was about to say, subtly kicked me under the table. 

But I turned my head, pretending not to notice, and spoke up.

“Could I take it?”

“The Kangha role?”

“Yes.”

The director flinched at my suggestion but quickly regained his composure.

“…I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’ll work.”

He rejected me without a hint of hesitation.