WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Potter
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Genius Writer Who Will Never Fall Again ◈
Chapter 8: Director (3)
──────
By common understanding, someone who “can’t read the room” is thought to be someone who does not notice changes in the mood.
But it did not take much thought to see the flaw in that idea.
Counterintuitively, people who could not read the room were often more sensitive to sudden shifts in the atmosphere.
Wasn’t that obvious? Deep down, they knew they were slow to read the room. So if the air turned so icy that even they could feel it, they had no choice but to realize, ‘I’m seriously fucked right now.’
That was the case for Byeong-gi.
He often got carried away talking and ruined the mood.
There was the time in school when he became absorbed in his own logic during an argument with friends, put the other person down too harshly, and ended up eating alone.
There was the time in college when he publicly confessed to I-seul, who was kind to everyone, only to hear, “What did I do to deserve this?”
There was the time at a company dinner when, drunk, he told his superior, “Aren’t I more skilled than you?” and was frozen out by his peers from the next day on.
It was the same now.
“Perhaps I’m slow on the uptake, but there’s something I really don’t understand. I’d like an answer.”
Despite his intimidating, ill-tempered appearance, Jae-kyung had spoken gently throughout their conversation. Now, his tone abruptly turned stiff.
He still seemed polite, but Byeong-gi felt strangely uneasy.
‘W-what is this?’
There was a trace of irritation on the face staring at him over interlaced fingers.
Byeong-gi wondered whether it was merely his imagination or whether Jae-kyung was genuinely annoyed. If he was annoyed, Byeong-gi wondered why.
But if Byeong-gi had possessed the ability to find that reason and respond properly, no one would have called him oblivious in the first place.
‘No, wait. Why am I trying to read the room here???’
He tried to square his shoulders again.
“May I ask a question?”
“Ah, y-yes! Of course!”
Already overwhelmed by Jae-kyung’s presence, Byeong-gi’s attitude had grown noticeably more polite.
The alarm bells ringing in his head had unconsciously prepared him to listen.
Put another way, he had been intimidated.
“To begin with, your story was interesting. But there were also parts that made me uncomfortable.”
“Ah, which parts...?”
“As you said, Director, a visual work is only completed after passing through a director’s hands. However, when it comes to dramas... I have no doubt that the narrative role I will take on is extremely important. We’re working together, aren’t we?”
“However...”
After adding that caveat, he continued.
“When I listen to you, Director, I begin to feel as though I’m not necessary. Ah, I apologize if that is an overinterpretation. I don’t mean anything bad by it, but if we’re going to work together, there are things we need to understand about each other’s positions in order to coordinate...”
“N-no, no, no! It’s not like that!”
Byeong-gi hurriedly denied it and added an excuse.
“I just mean that I want to protect a director’s prerogatives! Yes! I meant I’d be grateful if you listened to what I had to say as well! So... Ah! That’s it! Understanding each other’s positions, like you said! Yes! Understanding!”
“Ah, I see. So you had given it thought after all, Director?”
“Of course! I understand how important writers are! People don’t call dramas a writer’s game for nothing!”
“Ah, I’m sorry. I suppose I was reading too much into it. This is...”
That subtle caution made Byeong-gi even more nervous.
Words that cleverly hid sharp accusations behind soft cushioning.
Yet the moment he raised a shield, the attack was withdrawn.
Some people might have sensed an intention behind those words, but Byeong-gi only sensed the other person’s displeasure.
It was a miracle born of the confirmation bias formed through his past experiences.
He felt as though he had suddenly been dropped into an accident scene while having a good time.
As though he had bumped into someone on the street, been sued, and locked in an interrogation room.
Just as it became difficult to control his breathing and his heart began to race, the other person lowered him a lifeline.
“...Right. Of course not. A person capable of such fine directing must also be deeply thoughtful.”
A conciliatory gesture accompanied by recognition was more welcome than ever.
That one sentence felt like salvation.
Relief and joy became dopamine, wrapping around Byeong-gi.
Then, as if driving in the final nail, Jae-kyung added one more remark.
“I’m sorry. I’m someone who’s done nothing but write alone in a room, so I lack social skills. You must have been terribly offended...”
It was a magic phrase in the industry.
If one looked closely, it was an apology that excused one’s own rudeness. But in the industry, it meant something different.
A writer having a foul manner of speaking?
That was a given.
But a writer personally saying, “I lack social skills,” and apologizing?
At that point, they were already in the top 0.1 percent.
More than that, it was a signal to Byeong-gi that their relationship would be fine from now on.
It put the final touch on his swelling relief.
“N-no! Not at all! Yes, there was a misunderstanding between us. What’s the point of dwelling on something like that?”
“Haha, thank you for forgiving me so generously. A capable director really is different.”
“I have much to learn! I’m the one who is honored to meet someone like you, Writer Han! I look forward to working with you again!”
“I look forward to it as well.”
Jae-kyung held out his hand.
He remained seated, while Byeong-gi sprang to his feet, took his hand, and bent at the waist.
No one found this strange.
Wasn’t that remarkable?
It had taken only a few words to reach this point. Yet Byeong-gi now craved Jae-kyung’s goodwill far more than when they had first met.
‘D-did I say something wrong? No. We both did something wrong! Right! Writer Han apologized too, didn’t he? But if he’s holding it in... N-no! Don’t think about it any further. I just need to do well from now on, right? Yes! W-we met because of work! If I prove myself through work...!’
It would not have been wrong to call it a process of establishing the hierarchy.
It was one of the ironies of human society.
Ranks created for rules or based on mutual interests could become less important than the emotional hierarchy of a relationship, depending on who was involved.
“Then shall we seriously discuss our work?”
“Of course, Writer Han!”
As relief and the desire for recognition rose within Byeong-gi at once, a conversation with the senior who had left the strongest impression on Jae-kyung’s life passed through Jae-kyung’s mind.
- You need to keep stepping on that guy if you want him to work well. Five whips for every carrot? I suppose the carrot tastes sweetest then, and that makes him motivated?
- I’m reminded once again that you’re complete trash, Senior.
- But I got results, didn’t I? I’m a star writer, aren’t I? Everyone is desperate to serve me.
- Seriously.
- What does it matter? I’m a writer.
- That’s not what that excuse is for.
...
He felt a pang of conscience born from self-reproach.
Jae-kyung made a decision.
Even so, he would treat Byeong-gi better than that senior had. He would give him a carrot for every three whips.
* * *
The meeting with the director ended without incident.
Not because I had taken the reins over him, exactly.
Looking back on my past experiences, the work-related discussion had gone exceptionally smoothly as well.
‘He’s a strange person, but he really is capable.’
I looked over the storyboard Min Byeong-gi had given me once more.
The sketches used somewhat dynamic compositions.
At first, I wondered whether they could really be recreated in a drama production environment. But as I listened to Min Byeong-gi’s explanations, I was often surprised to learn that every scene could be achieved on a low budget.
When it came to visual work, there was little to criticize.
The drama would certainly turn out well.
‘His intentions in bringing a storyboard to the first meeting were impure, but it ended well enough.’
A chuckle escaped me.
Knowing Min Byeong-gi and remembering his initial attitude, it was obvious what he had intended.
He had probably expected me to be impressed by the storyboard, look at him with admiration, and then listen to him boast, “Just trust me and follow my lead.”
It meant we had both brought weapons to seize the initiative.
Mine had simply been stronger.
‘Anyway.’
After the meeting, Chief Go Young-chan joined us to discuss the detailed schedule.
As an emergency replacement project, we had only about fourteen months to complete preparations for the drama’s broadcast.
The stage we needed to begin immediately was...
‘Pre-production.’
Finding locations needed for filming, preparing props, hiring people, and coordinating schedules.
More than half of a drama’s quality was effectively decided at this stage.
...No, by my standards, it was ninety percent.
‘People are the problem. This damned drama.’
The director, the production crew, and the cast.
Most of all, the actors.
Even a single production required a double-digit number of lead actors.
‘These bastards are the biggest problem...’
Bad memories threatened to surface.
Except in a few cases, nearly every problem in my career had begun with actors doing stupid things.
It was not merely a personal problem. It was a characteristic of the profession itself.
The experience of going from being nobody yesterday to everyone’s idol damaged the brain with a thrilling hunger for validation.
An excessive conviction in one’s own specialness affected judgment, distorting moral standards.
To put it more plainly, it fostered the baseless sense of entitlement that said, ‘Why should I live like those worthless nobodies?’
Some people could not handle the sheer volume of attention directed at them and went into shock.
Unvarnished judgment from an unspecified mass of people could lead to mental illness.
Of course, unlike writers, there were more normal people among actors.
The problem was simply that the bottom was much deeper.
‘I need to filter them carefully.’
Fortunately, I had a roster of names in my head.
Anxiety born of experience was suppressed by my knowledge of the future.
‘You know, don’t you? Which ones are decent people, which are less than human, which ones will make it, and which ones never will. You know them all.’
So there was no need to start worrying over needless concerns.
More importantly, I had a right that was firmly guaranteed.
‘I have the final say in casting.’
Normally, that would have been absurd.
But the current production environment was proceeding on such a tight schedule that it could hardly be called normal.
Ordinarily, a drama’s prospects inevitably depended on which actors appeared in it.
So they would recruit actors with as much name value as possible and adjust the production schedule around those actors’ availability.
But that was impossible this time.
The only option left was auditions to find people among those immediately available who fit the roles perfectly.
And among the chief producer, director, and writer entrusted with that decision, the director I could control and I were on the same side.
Chief Go was not blind to people either. If I could package the personnel risks convincingly enough, he would agree.
Nothing worth worrying about would happen.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
Meditation was an effective way to erase the unsettling possibilities that arose in my mind, one by one.
After calming myself down, I thought:
‘Let’s write.’
I would do my job.
I had completed every preparation I could make. That was all that remained.
A few days passed after we began serious preparations for production.
Then Chief Go contacted me.
[Well, Writer Han! Is the writing going well?]
“Yes, there have not been any major difficult sections so far.”
[Hahaha! That’s very good news! Anyway, we’ve set the audition schedule!]
The stage was set to separate the gems from the stones.
It was the news I had been waiting for.
Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried
