Thump, thump, thump.
Han Seongtae reached out and knocked on the front door.
As though he held some emotion, strength filled the hand striking the door.
Ding-dong, ding-dong.
He pressed the doorbell beside it and knocked again.
He even tried calling with his phone.
—“The call cannot be answered and will be connected to voicemail…”
Kim Min-seok did not pick up.
[‘One Who Defined His Era’ wonders if standing here like this is really the right move.]
[‘Man of a Thousand Faces’ mutters that remembering the passcode would be faster.]
It had already been ten minutes since Han Seongtae arrived at Kim Min-seok’s home.
Rustle.
The chicken in the bag he held felt as if it had gone soggy.
Beep-beep-beep.
With the sound of the door lock releasing, the front door slowly opened.
Beyond it stood Kim Min-seok, looking disheveled.
“You’re here.”
His voice came out hoarse, as though his throat were gone.
“Did you just wake up?”
When Han asked, Min-seok nodded.
At first Han had meant to scold him a bit, but seeing Min-seok he couldn’t find the words.
‘In my past life I must have looked worse than that.’
With matted hair and a hollow face, Min-seok seemed to mirror the figure Han Seongtae himself had once been when he lived like a wreck.
Beep-beep-beep, click.
Entering, he set the chicken bag on the dining table.
“Smells good. Is it chicken?”
“Yeah, it’s chicken. Go wash up first. You reek.”
Sniffing his own clothes, Min-seok tilted his head.
Because it was his own smell, he couldn’t perceive it properly.
“Do I stink that bad?”
“Yeah. Really bad.”
“If you say so it must be serious. Fine, I’ll wash.”
Nodding, Min-seok disappeared from view.
Han unwrapped the chicken a bit and took a look around the house.
Unlike his own one-room studio, Min-seok’s place was very big and spacious.
‘A house with three rooms for one person…’
In both past life and present, it was a size Han had never imagined.
He wandered through the house he hadn’t visited in over ten years and laughed softly.
[‘Man of a Thousand Faces’ looks at you, saying that living environment is as important as skill in acting.]
[‘One Who Defined His Era’ gazes at you pityingly, feeling the gap between this house and yours is too big.]
Pity is a bit much.
True, Min-seok’s house was better than where he lived, but…
‘My place isn’t that bad, either.’
Trading idle remarks with the Gods, he explored for a while.
He discovered a room Min-seok used like a studio.
Dark as if curtained with blackout cloth, only the PC monitor and a desk lamp shone.
Crumpled papers and dozens of A4 sheets were strewn across the floor.
‘This is…’
Han picked up one sheet lying by the doorway.
The familiar format of a screenplay.
[‘Man of a Thousand Faces’ shows interest.]
[‘One Who Made Laughter From Tragedy’ says it’s the first time he’s learned your friend is a writer.]
It was a film script.
One of Min-seok’s works, never released publicly.
Han stared at it with a strange expression.
‘So he still had lingering attachment after all.’
In his past life, Kim Min-seok became a film director but more than ten years passed before that happened.
Yet he was already writing a script, which felt odd.
“What are you doing?”
When had he appeared? Min-seok, hair still wet, pulled on a shirt while speaking.
“All washed?”
“Yeah, that felt great. I hadn’t washed in a while.”
Nodding, he headed for the table, paying no mind that Han held his script.
Glancing at him, Han slipped the pages back into the room and followed.
“Thanks for the food.”
“Yeah, eat up.”
Min-seok grabbed a drumstick.
“…What are you doing?”
“Huh?”
“Why aren’t you eating?”
“Ah… just got a lot on my mind.”
After sitting idly a minute or two, he bit into the chicken at Han’s prompt yet soon set it down again.
“Seongtae.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m thinking of making a movie.”
Han froze. Hearing those words from Min-seok was astonishing, given his family situation and his mother’s opposition had killed that dream for over a decade.
“Watching you work so hard… I thought a lot. I can’t live like this forever.”
“…”
“So I looked into what jobs might use my major.”
He explained: he’d had a chance to observe a friend’s independent film shoot, watching the director at work, and it stirred something.
“It looked amazing. I imagined myself in that position. I’m going to try.”
“Is that why I couldn’t reach you?”
“Partly. Funny though… you didn’t call, either.”
“I was shooting.”
Seeing Han answer so casually, Min-seok shook his head.
“Anyway, since we’re talking, take a look at my script.”
“A script?”
“Yeah. You did a project with Director Choi Ye-chan, right? Just tell me if it’s any good.”
“Sure.”
Han nodded right away. How many scripts had he read over the years? Even without acting himself, he had an eye for a good work.
“This one. It’s unfinished, but the story’s solid.”
“Let’s see.”
Chicken forgotten, they focused on the screenplay.
Survive the Serial Killer.
Even the working title oozed thriller vibes.
“The title isn’t set. I couldn’t find a good one.”
“Okay.”
Han leafed through.
Rustle.
At first he’d expected something ordinary. Min-seok was only twenty, talented but lacking experience.
Once he opened it, though, it was anything but mediocre.
[‘One Who Made Laughter From Tragedy’ brightens, saying the story is quite intriguing.]
[‘One Who Defined His Era’ says it could be a fine film if it sustains tension well.]
[‘Man of a Thousand Faces’ smacks his lips while reading.]
The Gods’ reactions were positive.
“You came up with all this?”
“Yeah, I used a few references, but I wrote it start to finish.”
“That’s impressive.”
He meant it. The script was gripping.
⌜A woman who visits a remote countryside house must survive for one day against a killer who comes to murder her.⌟
That was the gist.
A familiar premise, yet Min-seok had handled it superbly. With good direction it could become an excellent picture.
‘Only three characters. That’s unique.’
From the script alone, production costs wouldn’t be high.
“It’s fun.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. The motive to get her out there works. The sticking point is why the killer’s there, but I think you can justify that easily.”
“Thank goodness.”
Min-seok exhaled in relief.
“It’s unfinished, but when it’s done, you’ll help, right?”
“Of course. Call anytime.”
“Okay, that’s settled. So how was your shoot? Is it done?”
He’d wanted to talk more about the script, but Han glanced wistfully at it and spoke about set life.
“Wow, if that’s all true you must have acted well.”
“They were kind to me.”
Talking, time flew.
As it grew late…
“Shoot’s done; what are you going to do now?”
“Me?”
At his question Han glanced at his phone. He already knew what was next.
“I want him so badly.”
Jeong Du-sik was scrolling through Han Seongtae’s OnStar, which Seo Ha-rin had shown him.
Posts of workouts, of fashion shots in Dongmyo…
‘Someone like this should be with us.’
More than three weeks had passed without a word from Han Seongtae. The regret only grew.
He believed a rough gem like Han needed a manager like himself to shine.
Tap, tap.
Drumming his desk, he kept browsing Han’s feed when…
Brrr.
The screen went dark; a call came in from an unfamiliar number.
‘Who could that be?’
Starting with 010, so probably not spam.
Perplexed, he answered.
—Hello.
The voice was familiar; he froze.
—This is Han Seongtae from Korea University Department of Theatre and Film.
A call from the very person he had been waiting for.
“Ah, hello, Han Seongtae-ssi!”
He jumped up from his seat.
—I worry I may have contacted you too late.
“Not at all. We’re grateful you called at all.”
Earlier would have been nicer, but late was no problem. The fact that Han called,
that alone erased all regret.
—I still lack in many ways, but… as an actor I’d like to be with PAN Entertainment.
‘As an actor?’
He thought Han had no screen credits yet. Was he misspeaking “actor trainee”? For a moment he wondered, then shook it off. He would be acting with them soon enough; becoming an actor was just a matter of time.
“If you give me a time that suits you, I’ll arrange my schedule around it.”
After setting an appointment with Han, Jeong Du-sik lowered his phone and stared blankly.
The unexpected call left him dazed but only briefly. Then he leapt up and walked toward the team leader’s office.
Leave a Reply