At an oxtail soup place near Yeouido station, KBC drama bureau chief Lee Hyeon-mu sat with his chin propped on his hand.
His heavy gull-wing eyebrows were pressed low.
"Hoooooo......"
Lee Hyeon-mu let out a long breath.
Because Kim Mi-ra, that woman, is plotting something again.
Kim Mi-ra is a sore finger to Lee Hyeon-mu.
A writer who guarantees ratings above five percent — but he knows her voice is loud in proportion.
Isn't it the same this time?
The moment the table read for ended she went and fixed a dinner appointment, saying she wanted to see his face.
'Her results are certain, so I can't even say anything.'
Five in the afternoon is an early hour to eat dinner.
Lee Hyeon-mu was curious about what Kim Mi-ra would bring up today. No — in truth he was not curious.
Because he was afraid of what demand would come out of that terrifying mouth.
'......Which means it's important enough that she'd put off the after-party for it.'
Normally there is an after-party once a table read is done.
However busy an actor is, nobody wants to miss the moment a drama breaks ground.
The writer attends as a matter of course.
Drink is the lubricant of feeling.
The writer slips an actor the things she could not bring herself to say at the read. Notes on the acting, or secrets the other actors must not hear.
Kim Mi-ra had left that precious time behind to come and see him.
All manner of dangerous hypotheses began bouncing around inside Lee Hyeon-mu's head.
'An actor thrown off? A scene cut? Is she throwing a fit about not being able to do this project?'
An empty soju glass sat in front of Lee Hyeon-mu.
He had ordered the drink, but the person to drink it facing him had not yet arrived.
Five minutes went by. The restaurant door opened and Kim Mi-ra came in.
The eyes behind the red horn-rimmed glasses curved like crescent moons.
Kim Mi-ra said as she sat at the table.
"Oh my, bureau chief, have you been waiting long?"
"No, I just got here."
Drama bureau chief of a public broadcaster — and in this business, where ratings are everything, Kim Mi-ra is the biggest of big dogs, the super-boss.
Even at an appointment sprung on him like this he showed no sign of discomfort and welcomed Kim Mi-ra with a friendly smile.
"Have you been well?"
"Yes, thanks to you. And how have you been, bureau chief?"
"Trouble-free, thanks to our writer Kim. But the after-party, what are you doing about that......"
"I'll see you and run straight over. They've booked a galbi place somewhere near here."
Kim Mi-ra took her coat off and looked around.
The oxtail soup place is one broadcast staff often come to.
The walls were lined with celebrities' autographs, and in the corner, early as it was, several people could be seen tipping glasses.
Kim Mi-ra drew a light breath and spoke.
Adding no preamble either way, she went straight to the point.
"Bureau chief, I wanted to talk a little about actor Seo Gang-woo."
"Seo Gang-woo? Ah, the child actor?"
Lee Hyeon-mu's eyebrows went up slightly.
The child actor in question.
The stone that rolled in and took the previous child actor's place. Lee Hyeon-mu recalled the friction with Ra Ju-hyun.
On the day notice was given that the child actor would be replaced, Ra Ju-hyun came to the bureau chief's office to protest.
"Then at least let me meet this child actor."
Lee Hyeon-mu could see that venomous expression as if it were in front of him.
Is it because she so often plays the mother-in-law?
The slashing eyebrows, the shrill voice...... at any rate, that day's lunch sat in his chest and gave him misery.
'And then all of a sudden the woman's attitude changed.'
Ra Ju-hyun's complaints subsided in an instant.
What could the reason be for that discontent being put to sleep?
Either Kim Mi-ra had done something about it, or she had met the child actor. It would be one of the two.
Kim Mi-ra nodded.
"Yes, that's right. I was thinking we might increase the child actor's screen time a little."
"The child actor's screen time?"
"Yes. I've got a feeling. He's an actor we absolutely must not finish off in one episode."
Feeling, my foot.
Lee Hyeon-mu let out a small sigh.
Of course, in this industry that feeling is close to everything.
Discovering an actor's star quality on a single instant's intuition, producing content that takes off — that is the ecosystem over here.
Even so, there are points that give him pause. Lee Hyeon-mu said.
"If the child actor's screen time grows, someone else's will shrink. And there are problems on the production schedule too."
The pushback he can easily foresee is no small thing.
Complaints from the production staff can be coaxed and soothed, but the actors are not easy.
Especially when they have already signed contracts.
There is nowhere on earth an actor who is pleased to have their screen time cut.
Kim Mi-ra nodded as if she agreed with the bureau chief.
"Adding episodes is......"
"Impossible unless the ratings trend is confirmed."
"......It would be, wouldn't it."
"Well, our writer Kim will make us a present of an above-average result, I'm sure."
He said it, but Lee Hyeon-mu was not entertaining the option of adding episodes.
'Which means in the end she has to steal another actor's screen time.'
There has to be a reward large enough to offset the noise that would create.
Kim Mi-ra herself must know that what she is asking is unreasonable.
At which point Lee Hyeon-mu became curious.
'How good is the kid's face, exactly?'
The bureau chief did see the child's looks the other day. He grants it.
Insane looks that radiated off the paperwork alone, enough to make the faces of the other actors on the cast list look like dried squid.
'It was bad enough that I wondered about dropping in on the read myself to see him in the flesh.'
But Lee Hyeon-mu could not agree with writer Kim Mi-ra's theory that a child actor was the answer to everything.
Early ratings? There would be a slight rebound.
But a mere child actor's looks do not create a large wave.
Not unless there is something beyond the looks.
'And his acting will be the usual middling standard among child actors. What's so good about him?'
Lee Hyeon-mu smiled brightly without betraying his inner thoughts.
"How is he in person? From the photos the look was excellent."
"Oh~ he's far too good. Enough to bewitch every mother in the country."
"A mere child actor, though?"
"Bureau chief. You know how it is. Women in their forties and fifties go mad for anything cute. And on top of that he's handsome? They lose their minds."
"Hmm......"
Kim Mi-ra leaned across the table.
"And a person with a gap in them draws the eye more, as a rule. You're thinking this too, aren't you, bureau chief. So a child actor is handsome, what's so remarkable about that."
"I won't deny it."
"But that child actor can act as well."
"Well enough for a child actor, you mean."
"Well enough not to be outdone among adult actors, I'm telling you. In places he's better."
Just then a server brought two bowls of soup.
A few pieces of oxtail bone floated on the white broth with hot steam rising off it.
Lee Hyeon-mu, who had been stirring with his chopsticks and barely eating, spoke.
"If our writer Kim says so. I'll trust the writer's power and throw my weight behind it."
"In that case......"
"There's a condition, though. You remember the PPL that came in the other day? The one you said was far too forced and told us to drop."
Kim Mi-ra's smile stiffened. Because she remembered what PPL Lee Hyeon-mu meant.
PPL is the necessary evil of Korean drama.
A broadcaster lives on ratings.
More precisely, it lives on the advertising revenue those numbers generate.
PPL is the business that turns into money and proves the drama department's reason for existing.
There is even a joke that a daily drama's production budget comes out of the clothes the actors wear on screen.
Kim Mi-ra said.
"How many seconds were they asking for?"
"Twenty at minimum. The whole logo has to be visible, and the product's function has to be introduced clearly as well."
There was a drama once that inserted a full minute of dialogue explaining a smartphone's functions in order to promote it.
'As I recall she was disgusted and said no. Will she take it?'
Lee Hyeon-mu looked at Kim Mi-ra with an expression that said: still want to increase the child actor's screen time?
The reaction was not what he expected.
After a moment's thought Kim Mi-ra grinned and nodded readily.
"Deal. Fine by me."
"......Really?"
"Yes. As it happens I've got a scene in mind. In exchange, cut me in for a little something too."
"That goes without saying, of course, but......"
Lee Hyeon-mu asked without hiding his bewilderment.
"......Is the boy really that remarkable? You said your pride as a writer wouldn't allow it."
Kim Mi-ra nodded.
Chin lifted, eyes full of confidence. She said.
"Yes. Bureau chief, why don't you come along to the after-party yourself? To put a face to a national actor whose price is going to climb later on, if nothing else."
***
The table read was over.
The cast and the main staff moved to a galbi place near Yeouido.
An after-party unfolds with plenty of drink to warm it.
In the middle of a sweet smell of meat, I am facing a mountain of it heaped up in front of me.
"Eat more meat. This one's gone cold, you can't eat that. I'll swap it for a fresh-grilled piece."
"I'm going to rest for a moment. I'm so full."
"But this one is grilled really beautifully, the size and the color are both perfect......"
"......Just one more piece, please."
Veteran actress Park Mi-yeong held up a freshly grilled piece and looked at me with wistful eyes.
She is a veteran actress who, along with actor Ra Ju-hyun, mostly plays mothers-in-law.
After seeing the shrill, venomous glares, seeing her like this is strange.
Isn't she enormously hurt that I won't eat the meat?
I ate one more piece for the sake of the effort.
'......Eating it without soju makes it cloying. Should I have one more glass of cola?'
An hour has passed since the after-party began.
Kim Mi-ra, who had left her seat earlier, joined belatedly.
"Let's make a hit! Today's table read was sooooo good!!"
Perhaps to head off any complaint about arriving late, her energy is turned up a bit high.
Beside me were Choi Do-hyun and Gu Ha-rin, who kept trying to touch my cheek.
The two of them, playing the leads, ought to have been moving around from table to table, but
'there was no need for that.'
People came crowding around us on their own.
"Gang-woo. Listen to me. Yeah? Back in the day, right? People used to say I was handsome, but not as handsome as you~ and on top of that you can act. Wow— I, really, I, Kang Ju-bok! Have fallen for Seo Gang-woo today!"
"Sunbae-nim. You're drunk."
"I am not? I'm not drunk yet! I'm just excited!"
"......He drank all that by himself? Somebody take him out for air for a minute."
"Gang-woo. Can your uncle touch that cheek one more time, eh?"
An after-party site with the smell of drink coming off it in waves.
Kang Ju-bok, who had been carrying on in his cups, was dragged off by a fellow actor and sentenced to compulsory fresh air.
Choi Do-hyun, grinning away beside me, is eating the meat on behalf of my full stomach.
"I always did find the meat here that good."
Is he eating it because he likes it. Anyway, as time passed the attention aimed at me subsided as well.
Choi Do-hyun, flushed red with drink, asked me.
"What were you and the writer talking about earlier?"
"She said my screen time might get longer."
"Really? It was a ten-minute part. How much longer does she think it'll get?"
I don't know. Screen time aside, she made an outrageous request.
"She said it's up to the advertiser?"
"Advertiser? So it's PPL. What's the product?"
"......Noise-cancelling headphones."
I have to show the product logo and act seriously while I do it, apparently. Kim Mi-ra added something.
That those headphones would become an important item, one that would turn every living room in the country into a sea of tears.