“Ah, I’m nervous.”
Tremble, tremble, tremble.
Writer Min’s leg wouldn’t stop shaking as she held her coffee cup. Plenty of people sneaked glances, but no one stopped her. The staff were just as anxious about the reaction to the final episode.
“It feels like the first time since Episode 1 that we’ve all gathered like this. Let’s watch the last episode of the drama we all worked so hard on and close it out beautifully together.”
Director Heo rose, cleared his throat, and spoke; the staff broke into unified applause.
“Director, do you think we can really hit fifty percent?”
“I heard if we crack fifty percent they’ll send us on a reward vacation. Is that true?”
Maybe because it was the finale, the mood (except for Writer Min) was relaxed.
“Ahem. Talks of a reward vacation started back when we passed thirty percent.”
At the director’s words, the staff’s eyes lit up.
“No way. Really?”
“Are we going overseas?!”
“Europe. I want to go to Europe!”
“Come on… They’ll send us somewhere nearby. Japan, Vietnam, Kota Kinabalu, something like that.”
Director Heo looked over the staff with a triumphant smile.
“Everyone. Who am I? Aren’t I the great Heo Youngho?! When we topped forty percent, I already locked in Europe! For the entire staff!”
“Ooooooh!”
“As expected of Director Heo!”
Basking in the cheers, Director Heo spread his arms wide—meaning, louder, more raucous cheers.
What are they so happy about? From the sound of it, a trip.
“What’s a reward vacation?”
“When a drama’s a mega-hit, the network sometimes sends people to a resort as a ‘thanks for your hard work.’ The network covers all expenses, so it’s basically a free trip. Usually it’s not the staff, just the lead actors. This time’s pretty unusual.”
“Ah. So that’s it.”
Director Heo kept going.
“The bureau chief gave his word! If the final episode’s ratings exceed fifty percent, he’ll upgrade all our lodgings to five-star hotels!”
“Uwoooooh!”
“So let’s all wish for a massive success.”
With that, airtime quickly approached.
[5 minutes until broadcast.]
As if no one had been chattering at all, the atmosphere settled into taut silence.
Five minutes that felt like fifty ticked by.
“It’s starting.”
Everyone’s eyes fixed on the screen as the opening began.
“Phew… Why am I crying?”
“I edited this myself, but watching it like this, now I’m tearing up…”
At last, the drama announced its end. Only after the end credits rolled and the screen changed did the staff begin to rouse one by one from the lingering emotion.
“A-hem. What did the ratings come in at?”
Even Director Heo asked over the walkie in a husky voice.
“This has fifty percent written all over it.”
“No matter how low, it has to have cleared forty-five.”
The answer came back soon.
[Final peak viewership: forty-seven percent.]
“Not fifty?”
[Correct…]
“Ah… short by three percent.”
“Shame we couldn’t hit fifty.”
They all clicked their tongues as if disappointed, but in truth they knew. Forty-seven percent was as good as a firing signal that MBS dramas, whose ambitious offerings had been crashing and burning for years, were back.
With a smash hit already certain, this much was fat-cat grumbling.
“How’s the audience reaction?”
Writer Min, whose leg had been trembling to the end, asked.
“It’s a total sea of tears. Doesn’t look like there’s any cursing, either.”
“Really? Truly? You’re not lying?”
“Yes. Ah, some say Yeonwoo’s lines were too sad.”
“There are also comments that the twist gave them chills. In a good way, Writer.”
[This is my choice. My choice, my wish, and the salvation I seek.]
With those last words, the Grim Reaper played by Yeonwoo closes his eyes. Then he scatters away into the air like ash. The female lead, So Yeojin, watches and cries.
The reason the Grim Reaper made such a choice, because he remembered, at the very end, the name he had completely forgotten.
[Goodbye.]
By her side, Kim Taehun supports So Yeojin and offers a final farewell, too soft to hear.
[So Yeohun.]
Calling the name that had been forgotten.
That’s right. The Grim Reaper, So Yeohun, was the older sibling of So Yeojin, who had died long ago. Those who become Grim Reapers are souls the King of the Underworld takes special pity on.
And So Yeohun was one of them.
A pitiable soul who died saving the younger sibling who fell into the water with him as a child. That was So Yeohun.
—Noooo ㅠㅠㅠ Don’t kill our Grim Reaper oppa ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ
—I’m dying here. I had a bad feeling, and he really died ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ
—So he was the heroine’s brother… That’s why it felt off from the moment they met… Even after losing his memory, he couldn’t bring himself to take his sister, so he abandoned his duty…
—As of today, my stock in “Grim Reaper for Male Lead” is delisted…
ㄴIsn’t this better, though? The male lead was Kim Taehun anyway, so at least this way something works out ㅠㅠ Lovers can break up, but siblings don’t!
By following the dictates of his heart, the Grim Reaper pays the price of soul annihilation. That was the core of the story.
But it didn’t end there.
“Writer, adding the reincarnation scene was a real stroke of genius. People are calling it the finishing touch, and it’s blowing up.”
“Really…?”
“If it had just ended in sacrifice, maybe not. But showing the Grim Reaper reincarnate, everyone’s relieved it counts as a happy ending.”
Of course, reincarnation beats leaving a favorite pick dead.
“If we’d refused to kill him and twisted the story by force, that would have felt worse. Now they’re saying the story feels complete.”
“R-really? Truly? No one’s cursing me?”
“Goodness. If you don’t believe it, see for yourself. Here.”
Writer Min snatched the phone, devoured the comments, then snapped her head up.
“We really have to thank Yeonwoo. Honestly, I was this close to changing the story. But Yeonwoo said, ‘Even if it kills me, go,’ so I screwed my eyes shut and went for it—and it turned into a blessing in disguise. He’s a real lucky charm.”
Each character’s vivid life and their personal arcs all converged in the last episode to form a perfect ensemble. Had Writer Min pandered to viewers and changed the ending, this kind of praise wouldn’t have been possible. Rather, you might have seen headlines like:
[“A finale crushed by pressure. A muddled ending sparks ‘viewer fury.’”]
‘Every script I read was screaming for the original ending. If we’d changed it for no reason, all the tone and content we’d built would’ve collapsed.’
A special ability especially tuned to reading text built of letters: Grasp of Intent. This was why Yeonwoo had firmly insisted on keeping the ending.
‘I couldn’t just watch them topple a tower we’d painstakingly built.’
Knowing Writer Min’s intent exactly, the choice was obvious. If the ending Min intended had been shoddy, that would be different… but it wasn’t.
In the end, Yeonwoo’s judgment was right. With the drama finishing in triumph at a staggering forty-seven percent, the key people involved found themselves in very busy days.
“A lot of people are asking for you, Yeonwoo.”
“For me?”
“Why so surprised? It’s the most natural thing. Director Heo’s reputation in the industry has already shot up, and Writer Min is now, in name and reality, a star writer. I’d bet their per-episode script fee now tops eighty million won.”
“Excuse me…?”
“By the way, Writer Min did an interview. Want to see it?”
Smiling, Kwon Seonghyun handed over his iPad. Yeonwoo took it without thinking, then nearly spit his water when he read the headline.
“The drama’s leading figure… Personally, the Grim Reaper…?”
The title was splashed across the top in huge letters. He reflexively looked to Kwon Seonghyun, who gave him an exceedingly gentle smile and a look that said, “Go on, read.”
‘Why is he like this again?!’
Yeonwoo’s eyes trembled as he read down the interview.
—Q. Was there a most memorable episode while writing this work?
A. Of course. As everyone knows, we had a few mishaps on set. (Laughs.) So it’s hard to choose, but if I had to pick one, the time Kang Yeonwoo saved Min Yerin from the water sticks out the most.
Q. You mean the scene from the making film? This reporter found it unforgettable as well. And then I had sleep paralysis. (Laughs.) But there are rumors that in that scene Min Yerin actually fell into the water and was in danger. Is that true?
A. It is. True. It was a night shoot deep in the mountains—dark and with a bad vibe. Strange things kept happening on set then. Static kept getting picked up on the mic. It was a bit eerie. Then Min Yerin fell into the pond and wasn’t coming up. And there…
Q. Did Kang Yeonwoo jump in right away?
A. He did. As Yeonwoo helped her out, it felt like lightning flashed in my head. …
Q. There seems to be an unusual amount of talk about Kang Yeonwoo in this interview.
A. (Laughs.) Can’t be helped. He’s my muse, more or less. I believe his presence completed the three-dimensional Grim Reaper character. Thanks to him, I could also push the ending through with conviction.
Q. Speaking of which, we can’t skip the ending. Killing the Grim Reaper was harsh. This reporter teared up at that scene. Wasn’t it hard to kill off a character as popular as a male lead?
A. Of course it was. (Sigh.) Do we kill him? Let him live? Frankly, the original plan was to have him die. But I grew attached. So I asked Yeonwoo.
Q. And what did he say?
A. He said that while the current trend is to aim for happy endings no matter what, tragedy is not always rejected. He said just look at Shakespeare’s Four Great Tragedies—people still talk about them. That gave me courage.
Q. Remarkable. As far as I know, Yeonwoo is still a rookie. Does he have no appetite for a bigger role?
A. Not at all. When he’s acting, no one is more passionate. Even as a newcomer, he has a wide perspective and the rare mind to see several moves ahead. (Laughs.)
Q. I hear you’re thinking about your next project?
A. The next one is…
“…?”
When did I ever say that? Shakespeare’s Four Great Tragedies?
Yeonwoo was the sort who had zero interest in what those even were. More than that, this is so blatant…
‘She’s only talking about me?!’
He’d opened it thinking it was an interview, but reading it, it felt more like hagiography. Judging by content alone, the Kang Yeonwoo Min knows and the real Kang Yeonwoo might as well be different people.
“How is it? Not bad, right?”
“Not… In what way is this ‘not bad’? This is practically fraud.”
“Fraud? From where I’m standing, it reads like a list of nothing but the truth.”
“…”
Forget it. There was no point arguing.
“Maybe thanks to that favorable interview, we’re getting love calls from everywhere.”
Fortunately, Kwon Seonghyun put the iPad away and got to the real topic. But as Yeonwoo listened, something felt off.
“How do you know that?”
“Because they’re contacting me.”
Soft smile, eyes crinkling. The look of someone wondering why you’d even ask something so obvious.
“And why, exactly, are they contacting you?”
“Because you don’t have an agency yet.”
“Pardon?”
“Yeonwoo. How was it, filming this drama?”
“What do you mean, how was it?”
“From where I stood, you looked like you were having a good time. You didn’t dislike it or anything, did you?”
Leave a Reply