WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Potter
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Genius Writer Who Will Never Fall Again ◈
Chapter 6: Director (1)
──────
It was the night I received the acceptance notice.
“So you entered the contest, and Geomgye Ilgun passed the final round?”
“How many times are you going to say that? You really don’t believe...”
“You did it!!!”
My older friend Seong-hun shot to his feet and shouted.
He looked like he was about to rush me, so I threw a wet wipe at his face.
Smack!
“Take it easy. What are you doing? It’s creepy.”
“No, you’re making your professional debut! How can I just sit still?!”
“Sit still. Making your debut isn’t the end. It’s only the beginning, so stop making such a fuss.”
“But still!”
“More importantly, did you show my script to your father?”
“...What?”
“I don’t know whether you showed him or got caught, but I think my script made its way to him.”
His expression was answer enough.
The way he carefully avoided my eyes made it clear he felt guilty.
“Well, actually...”
“It’s fine. I’m not trying to blame you. I just thought I should know.”
“Ah! But it absolutely wasn’t nepotism, okay?!”
“I know. When I called to schedule the meeting, they said the decision had been unanimous internally.”
Thinking back, it had been quite a memorable conversation.
“You’re... a newcomer? Really?”
“Yes. This is my debut.”
“You’re lying...”
It was not often that you heard a man with a gravelly voice sound like a deflating balloon.
Anyway, I had not once thought I had been hired through connections.
Choosing a historical drama at this point had been a strategy, and I had no concern that my writing would fall short of anyone else’s.
More than that, Seong-hun’s father was not the sort of man who worked based on personal feelings.
Department Head Park Tae-jin was infamous for putting results above all else until the day he retired in the future.
To what extent?
He had even cut his own wife, actress Joo Young-wol, because she did not fit the image of the role.
There was no chance he would favor his son’s friend.
I had not called Seong-hun over to interrogate him in the first place.
“I called because things are about to get busy, and I wanted to see you one last time. Relax.”
“I’m seriously sorry! I got drunk and meant to go home, but somehow ended up at my parents’ house...”
“I know. You’re not the kind of person who’d do that.”
It was strange to see him smile awkwardly.
He was so much younger than I remembered.
I had been betrayed by countless people in my life.
The only one who had remained loyal by my side through all that time was Seong-hun.
It was a stubbornly enduring bond.
A relationship that had lasted steadily from college until we were past forty.
A promise from our university days that came up whenever we were bored.
“We’re going to rewrite the history of Korean media together. So overwhelmingly that no one can ever surpass us!”
At first, it had been a joke we threw back and forth.
Then, one day, it became a dream.
The reason it had become hard to look at Seong-hun was that I could not bear seeing myself drift further and further from that dream.
‘This time will be different.’
I would make a name for myself in dramas and challenge the film industry too.
This was the first step toward that.
“When I succeed, I’ll treat you to a huge meal.”
“Huh? Didn’t you say you were treating me today too?”
“Not this kind of thing. A proper meal. Beef or tuna sashimi, something like that.”
“Come on, that’s nothing. I’m not helping you for free either.”
Right. This was the kind of person he was.
“Let’s make something that will go down in Korean history. My ears are getting callused from hearing that.”
“Heh, you know me well!”
We raised our glasses and clinked them together.
It had been a long time since I felt alcohol slide down my throat.
Even when I had been lying in that hospital room, and even after returning to the past, I had been too obsessed with what needed to be done to have moments like this.
“To the success of Geomgye Ilgun!”
“That’s embarrassing. Don’t do that.”
“Tch.”
The drinking session became a brief moment to catch my breath, like a comma between sentences.
A few days later, I headed to WBS for the meeting.
* * *
Go Young-chan, WBS Drama Department’s most senior chief producer, had been out of sorts for the past few days.
‘A newcomer? A real, complete newcomer?’
The writing was far beyond that level.
It was not simply a matter of skill. The formal beauty woven into the script was something that could not emerge without ample experience in production.
Would saying it felt as though Go Young-chan had been bewitched by a ghost explain it?
Separate from that, a concern Go Young-chan had not felt even a trace of was beginning to surface, giving him a headache.
‘An unproven newcomer...’
It might be needless worry.
Still, there was a reason the industry used established writers with proven hits.
What if the quality fell apart later on?
What if the writer could not keep up with the schedule and made unreasonable demands?
Or, though it was rare, what if they suddenly disappeared without a word?
Every negative possibility came to mind.
But there was an even bigger problem.
‘He has trouble with that bastard Jo Du-ho.’
That was the weakness of blind judging, perhaps.
After choosing the script and finalizing the decision, they revealed the writer’s name. It was Han Jae-kyung, the name Producer Jo Du-ho had been furiously badmouthing whenever he got the chance lately.
Jo Du-ho had recent hit records behind them.
There was no point debating how much weight their words carried.
Normally, he would not choose someone while accepting an outside risk like that, but...
‘Tch. There’s no time. More than that, the script is too good to throw away over a baseless worry.’
Results forgave everything.
It was one of WBS’s absolute principles.
A chief producer’s job was not to fret over things that had not happened yet.
It was to perfectly control what had happened and turn it into results.
“Senior! The writer’s here!”
“Yeah, I’m coming!”
The writer was probably not going to be easy to deal with.
There was the way he had gone after Jo Du-ho.
Writers tended to be like that, and he was a newcomer. A young guy.
Young-chan had enough experience to imagine it. Having achieved results already, the writer was likely arrogant beyond measure and utterly unrestrained.
Go Young-chan’s expression hardened.
‘I won’t make the same mistake twice.’
In the case of Writer Seo, who had caused trouble this time, he had coddled the writer far too much.
Having just been badly burned by the average writer, Young-chan was fully prepared to hammer some social skills into this one while he was still a newcomer, if only to prevent a repeat.
Then he entered the meeting room.
Go Young-chan’s first impression was pointed.
Not sharp, exactly. Pointed.
His irritable-looking face was steeped in fatigue, as though even the slightest touch would make him bristle like an awl and stab someone.
Yet his manner did not match that impression.
Young-chan was caught off guard.
“Hello. I’m writer Han Jae-kyung. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chief Producer.”
“P-pleasure to meet you. It’s an honor.”
“The honor is mine. I’m here because you thought highly of my writing.”
“O-oh...?”
This person.
“I know several works you directed when you were still on set. Dream of the Pocket Watch, Yoo Seol-ri’s Wildflower Field, and Espionage After a Kiss, the last work you directed. I enjoyed all three very much when I was young.”
“Is, is that so?”
Quite a lot.
“I would appreciate any guidance. I have studied a great deal on my own, but I do not know much about the field.”
“Guidance is a bit much...”
Very much.
“Please speak comfortably. You are my senior in life and a towering senior in the drama industry.”
“I, I suppose I could...?”
No, extremely so.
“Ah, I’ve gone on too long. I’m sorry. You must be busy.”
“No, no. We’ve only just met. We should get to know each other! Of course!”
“You can treat me comfortably.”
“Hahaha! That sounds good! Then I’ll speak comfortably!”
He had social skills!
Sniff!
Go Young-chan, forty-six, a battle-worn broadcasting producer.
For the first time in a long while, Go Young-chan found himself tearing up because of another person.
Did it need an explanation?
‘How long has it been?’
How long had it been since speaking to a writer had made him feel comfortable?
When Go Young-chan thought back, he had to go very far into the past.
Before he had given up expecting anything from writers.
Back when he was still on set.
No, back when he had first entered the field.
‘...Even then, there wasn’t anyone like this.’
Instead, memories that felt like nightmares began resurfacing vividly.
“Ha, I have to work with an amateur like this at my level?”
“W-Writer Gu! This person is still...!”
“I don’t care, replace them! I said replace them!”
“I said we need more kissing scenes here!!!”
“No, Writer, the pacing...”
“What does a bastard who only holds a camera know about giving advice?!”
His PTSD flared up.
Remembering the humiliating and painful reality of Go Young-chan’s time on set only made Jae-kyung seem even more special.
His heart stirred.
Young-chan pressed hard against the bridge of his nose, fighting back tears.
“...Chief, are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I’m fine... I’m just in a good mood today.”
“Um, if you’re all right, then that’s a relief.”
In truth, Jae-kyung’s attitude was only what one would normally expect in society.
But could the judgment of someone who had crawled up from the bottom of a sewer be the same as the judgment of someone who had lived above ground all their life?
‘Did that bastard Jo Du-ho do something wrong?’
Thinking about it, Jo Du-ho had never been a particularly decent person.
Yes. Jo Du-ho must have done something wrong.
It was a remarkable progression of thought.
“Ahem! Goodness, my nose is running. Shall we start the meeting? No, let’s start. Sorry, I was a little scattered.”
“Yes...”
Even if it was an act, it did not matter.
The fact that he could put on an act like this already placed him in the top 0.1 percent of writers.
Young-chan’s eyes were already full of goodwill as he looked at Jae-kyung.
* * *
Showing basic courtesy was only natural in society.
But society did not follow common sense ninety percent of the time.
What did that mean?
At this point, writers’ tyranny had strayed so far beyond common sense that merely behaving like a human being gave a writer an automatic ten-point advantage with broadcasters and production companies.
‘I didn’t expect it to be this bad, though.’
Chief Producer Go Young-chan.
Go Young-chan’s gorilla-like build often made people underestimate him, but in terms of ability, he was one of WBS’s most formidable figures.
Would it make it clearer to say that, after the current department head retired, Go Young-chan took over the position as the next department head?
Go Young-chan had never created any major controversy, and his results in office had been quite good. He even led the broadcaster respectably until the day I died.
I had put effort into being polite because I wanted to build a smooth relationship, and this was the result.
In a way, I could understand it.
‘Having a long career means meeting that many more writers.’
There were countless human land mines in broadcasting, but if anyone had to name the profession with the highest concentration of them, they could confidently name writers.
Someone with bad luck in matching partners could spend their entire career stepping on nothing but land mines, until all their faith in humanity had been worn away.
Go Young-chan was almost certainly that kind of person.
It was good for me.
I had not needed to put in much effort, yet the atmosphere for negotiation was already this bright.
‘Aside from the way Go Young-chan keeps looking at me so intensely.’
It was hard to meet his eyes when someone with a gorilla-like face looked at me so soulfully.
“So, Writer Han. We gave you advance notice, but the writing schedule is rather tight.”
“Yes, I had a rough idea when I saw the announcement. I’ve written through Episode 6, and I think I can finish the first drafts through Episode 16 by the third quarter this year.”
“That fast?”
“I prepared for it for quite a long time, so I only need to write it.”
“Wow...”
Go Young-chan’s gaze became even more soulful.
This was the moment to be alert.
There was something I needed to obtain while this goodwill continued.
“As you know, this drama will be self-produced. We’re not bringing in an outside production company, so you’ll be signing directly with us... Now, assigning a director is the problem.”
Here it was.
“Producer.”
“Yeah?”
“About that, is it possible for me to nominate a director?”
Go Young-chan blinked.
Yes, I knew it was an absurd request.
‘What business does a rookie have trying to choose a director?’
But whether for now or the long term, this was an issue that had to be settled first.
It was tiresome to say it again, but I would emphasize it once more.
This industry was a place where land mines laughed and chatted among flowers in a flower garden, ready to explode at any time.
I had stepped on nothing but land mines to get this far.
Did I have to repeat the same thing again?
Absolutely not.
‘It’ll be necessary in the long run too.’
There was such a thing as a creative circle in this industry.
The bond between people who had worked together through many projects since their unknown days was an asset built from that shared hardship.
Memories became trust, and trust became a faction with the power to influence the whole industry.
I needed something like that.
It was what I had lacked.
‘People who have no chance of betraying me.’
...No. I would never again place that kind of hope in human shallowness.
‘People unlikely to betray me. People I can manage, with high potential.’
As I turned the possibilities over in my mind, several exceptional talents currently lying dormant came to mind.
“Hmm, Writer Han. This is rather...”
Go Young-chan’s voice cooled instantly, like someone discovering a fatal flaw in a blind date.
If I left Go Young-chan alone, I would lose the initiative.
“Yes, I understand that it is the broadcaster’s exclusive authority. I have no intention of infringing on it. Whatever decision you make, the choice of experienced seniors such as yourselves will not be inferior to mine.”
“W-well, that’s true...!”
Relief entered Go Young-chan’s voice.
Now.
“I only ask that you hear it as an opinion about my preferred style.”
“If that’s all... But who do you want? We have schedules too, so we can’t just pull someone out whenever we want.”
“I want Director Min Byeong-gi.”
“Byeong-gi? Writer Han, you know Byeong-gi?”
“Yes. Director Min Byeong-gi of See You on the Weekend.”
Go Young-chan’s expression turned strange.
Well, it made sense. At this point, Min Byeong-gi had no proper career to speak of.
No, the only project on Min Byeong-gi’s record had flopped spectacularly.
In a sense, it had been a staffing problem.
‘You told an action specialist to shoot a romance drama. Of course it failed.’
Min Byeong-gi was currently called an incompetent director.
But in the future, people called Min Byeong-gi something very different.
“The winner of this year’s Director of the Year Award is... Yes! Director Min Byeong-gi of Violent Crimes Unit 17! Congratulations!”
Six years later, a monster would appear like a comet in Korean drama and overturn the entire scene.
Min Byeong-gi would even be called the new standard of dramas.
Min Byeong-gi, the magician of pacing.
When it came to action, Min Byeong-gi was a monster among monsters, one whose achievements no one could match until the day I died.
“If possible, I really want to work with Director Min Byeong-gi.”
And that person was currently crawling along at rock bottom.
It was time to buy low.
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