“Yes. Didn’t you hear? We received two thousand profiles for the role of Lee San. Our staff almost died going through each one.”
I had expected there would be many applicants since it was Director Jung Joonhee’s project.
But I never imagined there would be two thousand.
Even though it was a significant role, it was still a supporting one.
Then again, maybe more people applied precisely because the chances were better than landing a lead role.
The moment he heard the odds were one in two thousand, Song Hyunsoo felt his stomach churn with pressure.
“Haha. Hyunsoo, your face just turned pale.”
Producer Kim found his reaction amusing, throwing her head back with laughter.
“Is it okay if I call you Hyunsoo?”
“Of course. Please speak comfortably.”
“By the time we have drinks after the wrap party today, I’ll probably be doing just that. People might gossip behind my back, saying I’m being too familiar.”
“Oh, that won’t happen.”
“We’ll be seeing each other nonstop until the filming wraps and we finish the stage greetings. Let’s get along well.”
Fortunately, the chief producer didn’t seem like the difficult type.
At the very least, she didn’t come across as fussy or the kind to make people around her uncomfortable.
She also seemed to take a liking to Hyunsoo.
If the director was the creative force behind the film, the chief producer was the one who oversaw everything from planning, administration, hiring, marketing, and attracting distributors— essentially, the commander of the entire production process.
Though it varied depending on the project and production company, it wasn’t uncommon for producers to wield even more authority than the director.
In short, she was a very important person to Song Hyunsoo.
His relationship with her was just as crucial as his relationship with the director.
Suddenly, Producer Kim lowered her voice and subtly glanced toward Yoon Jooho.
“By the way, did you exchange greetings?”
“Yes. I did.”
“Good. That couldn’t have been easy. You did well.”
When he mentioned exchanging greetings with Yoon Jooho, she patted his shoulder encouragingly.
It seemed she was well aware of how eccentric— or at least difficult— Yoon Jooho could be.
“Producer Kim, your laughter could be heard all the way down the stairs. What’s so funny?”
The meeting room door opened, and a new figure walked in.
“Ah, Jooyoung! Here, our San has arrived. What do you think?”
CEO Kim turned Hyunsoo toward the person who had just entered.
Han Jooyoung.
According to what he’d heard during the contract discussions, she was the actress playing the role of film director Jeon Yoojung in this movie.
“Wow, the actor for San has finally been decided?”
Han Jooyoung’s exclamation sounded more like an English “Oh” than the Korean “Whoa.”
She was a third-generation Korean-American who had started acting relatively late in life.
“He’s such a refreshingly handsome guy, isn’t he?”
“Right?”
“He looks both cocky and innocent at the same time. It’s like San has come to life.”
“That’s what I said!”
Producer Kim excitedly slapped Han Jooyoung’s shoulder.
Jooyoung seemed to have meant it purely as a compliment, without any malice.
“Let’s have the two of you introduce yourselves. This is Han Jooyoung, playing Jeon Yoojung. And this is Song Hyunsoo, playing Lee San.”
“Hello, I’m Song Hyunsoo. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Out of habit, Hyunsoo bent at the waist and extended both hands.
He knew Han Jooyoung was four years older than him— thirty-two, the same age as Yoon Jooho.
“The pleasure is mine. Since most of the cast are around the same age, I think we’ll have a lot of fun filming this one. Right?”
Han Jooyoung beamed as she clasped his hand.
She didn’t bow or extend both hands. Hyunsoo straightened his slightly hunched back subtly.
“But how did you debut?”
PD Kim asked, turning to Song Hyunsoo.
“My first role with a line was about four years ago, just a minor part.”
“Was Jooyoung’s debut three years ago? That financial commercial?”
“Right.”
Financial commercial?
An image popped into Song Hyunsoo’s mind.
“Wait… was it the ARA Financial Group ad?”
“Oh wow, that’s the one! I can’t believe someone remembers it!”
Financial ads weren’t something just anyone could do.
High recognition alone wasn’t enough.
Only celebrities with a clean, trustworthy image were chosen.
If the model wasn’t widely known, they had to exude honesty, sincerity, or a refined, upscale vibe.
The ARA Financial Group ad showcased the luxurious lifestyle of a young man starting his day in a high-rise apartment with a breathtaking view.
It was an image-driven ad that planted the fantasy that such a life was possible with ARA.
And the man in the ad— kind, gentle-looking, yet brimming with cheerful energy— was Han Jooyoung.
“Back then, I was visiting Korea for my graduation and got scouted on the street. I just happened to shoot it on a whim. Oh, did you know, Hyunsoo? I grew up in Boston. Went to college in Manhattan.”
“I knew you were from the U.S., at least.”
“Anyway, I went back to the States for grad school, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt being in front of the camera. I ended up dropping out because I wanted to act. Convincing my parents was a nightmare. My dad was so mad he didn’t talk to me for a whole day.”
Han Jooyoung frowned as if recalling a traumatic event.
A whole day of silence from his dad— he made it sound like the most horrifying thing he’d ever experienced.
Unlike the man in the ARA ad, the real Han Jooyoung was quite talkative.
It was a cheerful chatterbox energy, born from the confidence that everyone would be interested in what he had to say.
Depending on the person, it could be charming.
Song Hyunsoo had met all kinds of people in the film industry, but this type was new to him.
He wasn’t a stunningly handsome guy like Yoon Jooho, but he had his own unique charm— a valuable asset for an actor.
Plus, his warm, likable looks had undeniable appeal.
“If you debuted four years ago, then Hyunsoo’s your senior,” PD Kim remarked.
Song Hyunsoo shook his head.
“It was just a one-line waiter role. My real debut was Dissolve.”
“Real debut! Then my real debut is Dissolve too.”
Han Jooyoung seemed to like the phrase “real debut” and repeated it several times until PD Kim patted his shoulder to calm him down.
“Then you two can just consider yourselves peers. You’re peers now, moving forward.”
“I’ll call you ‘Hyung-nim’ from now on, Jooyoung.”
“Hyung-nim? I know that’s common in Korea, but it feels a bit awkward to me. Makes me feel like an old man. Just call me ‘hyung’!”
“Jooyoung… hyung?”
“Perfect, Jooyoung hyung! I don’t have any siblings, so let’s get close, Hyunsoo. I love hanging out— drinking, trying new restaurants. Oh, do you play any sports? I heard tennis is kind of trending in Korea lately. Do you play?”
Song Hyunsoo felt slightly dizzy from Han Jooyoung’s endless chatter.
He was even more talkative than Jung-ho.
“But hyung… your Korean is really good.”
“I know, right? My Korean friends say I’m the best among them. At home, we were only allowed to speak Korean. But my pronunciation is still a bit awkward, so I’ve been taking lessons seriously lately.”
“Oh, really?”
Song Hyunsoo responded with a lifeless smile and nods, pretending to listen while his mind drifted.
“My teacher graduated from Seoul National University’s English Education Department, so she’s fluent in English too. It helps when she explains things in English for the tricky parts.”
“Ah, really?”
As Han Jooyoung rambled on about Korean proverbs he’d been learning, Song Hyunsoo nodded along, but none of it registered.
Judging by PD Kim’s expression, he felt the same.
I really need to remember to order earplugs today.
Lost in thought, Song Hyunsoo’s gaze absently drifted to Han Jooyoung’s outfit.