“Oppa, you’ve changed a bit since becoming president. I think you should brace yourself, CEO Choi,” Sung-ah said with the same smile.

CEO Choi’s lips also curled into a small smile. By the atmosphere alone, someone might think that the three of us were close friends. What next? Would we go drinking together and sing some karaoke? Maybe even wave goodbye all friendly?

“Seriously, though. I have plans for fried chicken. There’s something to celebrate and something I’m looking forward to.”

I rested both arms on the flat table and looked directly at CEO Choi.

“That’s why I can’t spare you much time. You understand, right?”

“Of course. I’m already grateful that you came out at all.”

CEO Choi’s gaze stayed fixed on his cup of tea as he brought it to his lips. He seemed to be savoring the tea, or maybe he was thinking about what to say next.

If it were anyone else (or even if it were the old me) his calm demeanor would have swayed them. They would have been tense, paying close attention to his every expression and every movement. I would have also lost the upper hand without realizing it.

‘In the end, what matters is having the upper hand.’

Now, though, this type of thing didn’t bother me at all. It didn’t matter whether I could read the emotions beyond his glasses. After all, this meeting wasn’t meant for pleading. It was a meeting to negotiate a deal. What mattered more was how valuable my cards were to the other party.

“But Oppa, are you sure things are going fine? I heard things have been a little hectic.”

“For who?”

“Hee-yeon, Yumi, and even your baby artist.”

“Baby?”

“Yeah, the one you said was ‘my artist.’”

Jin-ah?

I could understand Hee-yeon and Yumi. The netizens started an e-war because of Hee-yeon’s rock music. Yumi became the center of a controversy about being a burden, which escalated into rumors of potential discord within the team.

‘It’s a wildfire, for sure.’

I wasn’t sure who was responsible for fanning the flames, but I could only be grateful since they were working hard for our benefit.

However, there wasn’t any bad press on Jin-ah right now. In fact, she was making excellent progress.

It had been a few weeks since she began her promotional activities. She only appeared on the weekend music shows and participated in a few events and radio shows.

‘There’s also a lot of talk about advertisements.’

We were expecting that her addition to 〈 Tomorrow’s Idol 〉 would only make her more widely known and solidify her current position. And she was saying that things were hectic for Jin-ah?

“What about Jin-ah?” I asked with curiosity.

Sung-ah gave a light smile. She stared at me, as if trying to convey something.

“Oh…”

I think I understood what she meant. Sung-ah was letting me know that there would be some controversy soon. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘Director Park, that bastard. He must be thrilled.’

Attacking both Hee-yeon and Yumi at the same time must have felt like a feast for the taking. Now, he found something to stir up a controversy about Jin-ah as well. Why? The answer was simple.

The cast of 〈  Tomorrow’s Idol 〉 consisted of immensely popular idols.

‘Their fandoms are all incredibly strong. There’s bound to be a lot of rivalry.’

He must have thought that if he found a way to spark criticism against Jin-ah, the other fandoms would take over and escalate the issue.

He was thinking if Jin-ah appeared to be getting more attention than the other idols, the fandoms would become angry and furiously hammer away at their keyboards.

‘Well, we’ll see what happens when the show airs.’

That scene where Kid asked for my thoughts was very likely to make it onto the broadcast since it showcased his enthusiasm. 

Though it was unlikely, if Jin-ah did get caught up in something, it would probably get swept under the rug. As long as it wasn’t something unreasonable, a controversy would only lose its momentum and crumble.

‘Maybe I should be thanking Kid.’

For creating such a sensational scene, that was. I was grateful to the trainees, too, for choosing Didi. Sung-ah seemed impressed at my relaxed smile.

“Oh, were you expecting this, too? Looks like you really are doing well. Did I poke my nose in where it didn’t belong?”

“Not at all, thank you.”

Still, I needed to remain vigilant. I was well aware that complacency could become a weapon that stabbed me in the back. 

Sung-ah looked at CEO Choi and lifted her chin proudly.

“See? That’s why conditions don’t work with him. Don’t you know what kind of person he is?”

“True. I thought this type of thing would be a threat, but I see I was mistaken.”

I chuckled in amusement and replied to CEO Choi.

“Were you planning to demand something from me in exchange for stopping Director Park and resolving the controversies?”

“Correct. I thought that would be what you wanted most, but you seem to have another plan this time as well, hm?”

“Wow, how straightforward. After everything I’ve done for the company, moral obligation never even crossed your mind? Forget an apology. You were just planning to use this as leverage? Unbelievable.”

I shook my head as I clicked my tongue in disappointment. Even so, the faint smiles on their faces remained.

“Well, then. What’s your demand?”

Though it was obvious, they refrained from mentioning anything outright and focused only on the price. It was a way of maintaining control in negotiations. Make the other person state their desires first, then decide whether it was excessive or not.

What was remarkable was that this wasn’t even intentional. That was just the kind of person he was. Taking control was second nature to him.

I sighed heavily. “This discussion is getting quite frustrating. You have 30 minutes left.”

“Alright, I got it. I didn’t say anything because I thought you would have known, but it seems you’ve been holding on to a lot. I’m talking about Sung-ah’s next project. In exchange for picking her next script, name your price.”

“Oppa, I also want to star in a successful project.”

Now we were getting to the main point, and it was my turn. Though I already had a script recommendation in mind, I pretended not to.

“Well. Do you have any scripts picked out?”

“Of course.”

As Sung-ah responded, CEO Choi was already taking scripts out of his briefcase. There were five of them. Naturally, none of them were from Director Min-woo. All five were works from much more well-known directors than him.

“These are the projects that were offered to Sung-ah. Even though this last movie proved that a director’s reputation isn’t always trustworthy, it’s hard to ignore the influence of their name.”

A director’s name could determine the lead actor, which could, in turn, secure more investment. The reverse could also be true. Either way, the name of a well-known director could elevate the quality of various things.

I skimmed through the scripts one by one. Not in detail, but just flipping through them quickly.

“Take your time. You can choose one and contact me when you’ve made your decision and thought about your condition.”

I didn’t answer and continued to scan the scripts to get a sense of their content. Most of the titles were tentative, so they weren’t much help in my judgement. However, I was able to determine what kind of movies they were from the directors’ names and scripts.

Fortunately, I was familiar with all of these movies. If they had been unknown films, their potential to fail could have been another factor in my judgment.

I closed the scripts and shrugged.

“There’s nothing good here.”

CEO Choi’s cold, angry gaze turned to me. His emotions were plainly visible now.

“Hm, I wonder if I’ve misjudged—”

I cut him off.

“For now.” I added with a sly grin. “I think you’re misunderstanding something. I clearly said that there’s nothing good here.”

Sung-ah furrowed her brows.

“How can you tell with just a quick look? You’ve never evaluated scripts this quickly before. These are all from capable directors.”

She was right. They were all famous directors, and their past works have performed fairly well.

Before my regression, every project she had worked on flopped. That was, up until this current film, ‘Photographer.’

No matter which of the five scripts she picked, Sung-ah herself would become the masterpiece that would increase the popularity of any movie. She would ensure any movie’s success.

“Yeah, they’re all talented directors. I’m sure the films will comfortably surpass their break-even points. If you’re in it, they’ll perform even better.”

CEO Choi and Sung-ah Kim furrowed their brows in obvious confusion.

“President Kang, didn’t you just say none of them were good? That’s different from what you’ve just said.”

“They’re fine, but they’re not much compared to the script I’ve discovered.”

While the others may do decently, the real blockbuster was Director Min-woo’s film. It would trample every other topic to become THE topic to talk about. It would start a trend.

“It’s Director Min-woo Sung’s next project. It seems they’re struggling with casting.”

It wouldn’t take long for word to spread about the movie I’m involved in. Before I mentioned any compensation, I decided to talk about the film first. It wasn’t like they would shortchange me anyway. This wasn’t Director Park, after all.

“Director Min-woo Sung?”

(T/N: In English, the same word “Director” is used but they mean different things since they are from different fields. Director Park is from corporate. Director Min-woo is a film director.)

CEO Choi’s expression lit up with renewed interest. While his name wasn’t as prestigious as the directors of the scripts on the table, I spoke with absolute confidence.

From films lacking funding, to dramas everyone thought would fail, and even movies directed by lesser-known names. If I chose them, they always succeeded. Knowing this, their confusion quickly shifted to intrigue.

“Should I mention my conditions now?”

“Can you guarantee this?”

“If you hear my conditions, you’ll understand how confident I am.”

Sung-ah Kim’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Oppa, what kind of movie is it? How did you come across the script?”

I turned to Sung-ah with a sly smile.

“Do you want to learn how to dance?”

“Dance?”

Sung-ah blinked, not understanding my intention.

“It’s an entertainment industry film. The lead is an idol.”

“Really? Dancing is totally my thing! I’m confident in that! If I weren’t so good at acting, I would’ve succeeded as an idol.”

Whether or not that was true would be revealed with time, but for now, this was good enough. As Sung-ah clapped in excitement, CEO Choi’s eyes gleamed with curiosity.

“Do you have the script?”

“Of course.”

CEO Choi wasn’t the only one who carried scripts in his briefcase. I casually tossed the script onto the table. Their eyes immediately locked onto it. He reached out for it, but Sung-ah was faster.

She swiped the script and began flipping through it in a serious manner. CEO Choi retracted his hand with a tsk of his tongue and instead asked me something.

“You came here with your conditions already planned out, didn’t you?”

At one point, I had considered requesting punishment for Director Park. However, I doubted they would agree to a condition like that. Even if they did, it would make it harder to push for other demands.

After weighing my options, I decided against mentioning it. I gained much more by proposing other conditions.

“I’d like Hee-yeon to audition for a supporting role, and I’d like Sung-ah’s help with that.”

Sung-ah’s talent wasn’t just about her adaptability or acting skills. Her strength lay in her ability to analyze characters and scripts to masterfully craft her roles.

To convincingly perform a role, learning from Sung-ah was a hundred times better than attending acting classes.

When it came to character analysis, development, and script interpretation,l Sung-ah Kim was second to none. For crash-course training, there was no better choice.

Even as her name came up in the conversation, Sung-ah remained absorbed in the script. Her hands flipped through the pages faster and faster, and her eyes remained glued to the pages in concentration.

Seeing this, CEO Choi glanced at her before nodding.

“And? I assume you have more conditions.”

“I’d like to invest in this film, but I don’t have the funds. Could you lend me some?”

Sung-ah finally looked up from the script and looked at me, laughing in disbelief.

“Just how confident are you that it’ll succeed? What if it flops?”

CEO Choi, however, smiled brightly. The most bright this evening.

“This is the first time I’ve felt good about lending money. I’ll take it to mean that you’re that confident in its success. I admit I thought it was a little strange, but you’ve convinced me. How much do you need?”

“The more, the better,” I said, my smile mirroring CEO Choi’s.

“With Sung-ah and Hee-yeon involved, who knows how much more investment this project could attract? For my share to have any meaning, the total investment should be as large as possible, don’t you think?”

Investing with someone else’s money, earning profits, increasing Yoon-jung and Hee-yeon’s popularity, and absorbing Sung-ah’s expertise and skills. All of this pointed to a golden opportunity.

That night, we talked for a long time and eventually ended up drinking. In the end, though, we didn’t go to karaoke, and we didn’t wave goodbye to each other.

***

Meanwhile, at the dorm, four members were clutching their stomachs as they anxiously waited for Hyuk to return. The fried chicken party planned for today had several purposes.

It was to celebrate the happy news of Yoon-jung’s new role as a choreographer in a movie, and it was also to mark the success of Jin-ah’s first recording for 〈 Tomorrow’s Idol 〉.

And there was one more purpose to it.

‘I can’t wait to have him hear the new song.’

Yumi’s first new song after changing genres from EDM to hip-hop was complete, and it was ready for President Kang. She felt giddy as she imagined the praise she would receive after showing him the track.

‘The reception lately is looking good, too.’

Although the shift to hip-hop initially caused some backlash from the EDM fans, things had been going somewhat… strangely well.

The comment section for her latest video — ‘Kendrick Lamar ? Humble (Yumi Remix)’ — were noticeably frenzied.

– she’s such a great artist. I can’t believe I’m breathing the same air as you.

– I’m dying to see how far she’ll go next. Her next conquest has to be rock!

– Yumi is a Korean name. Ella es coreana, ¿eh?

(T/N: The Spanish was originally English mixed with Korean.)

– Don’t be ridiculous. Yumi is also common in the U.S., and she could even be Russian!

– Does nationality matter? She already claimed both EDM and hip-hop!

If the reception for this new song was good, then President Kang would be that much happier. Yumi hummed a tune while sprawled across the sofa.

“Ahh, when will this end? I’m staaarving!” Jin-ah complained.

Hee-yeon tried to calm her down.

“He’s working for our sake, Jin-ah. President Kang must be hungry, too.”

Usually, Jin-ah would have relented to Hee-yeon’s words, but today was different.

“But President Kang is meeting Sung-ah Kim right now, you know?”

Yumi’s humming stopped abruptly. Because of Sung-ah Kim, today’s fried chicken party had been delayed. If not for her, she could have already heard praise for her work. 

Yoon-jung gave Jin-ah a scolding look.

“Hey, do you really think he would be helping her with something? It’s obviously company-related.”

“She’s right. Jin-ah, he said he wouldn’t take long. Let’s wait just a little more.”

As Jin-ah pouted and grumbled, a message popped up in their group chat with President Kang.

– Sorry, I don’t think I can make it today. Just order chicken for yourselves. Save the receipt.

“What the heck! How could he?!”

“He probably has his reasons…”

“Whatever! I’m going to order now. We’ll eat ten chickens! Let’s spend a ton of money and bankrupt the company. He’ll regret not coming.”

As Jin-ah, Yoon-jung, and Hee-yeon huddled together to order, Yumi quietly retreated into her room. She turned on her computer and searched for Sung-ah Kim’s name. Articles popped up in the search results.

[The sole light in the movie ‘Photographer’, Sung-ah Kim.]

[Film critic Woo-shin Park says, “Not a movie worth watching without Sung-ah Kim.”]

[Netizen reviews of ‘Photographer’ said they ‘almost walked out of the theater if not for Sung-ah Kim.’]

Yumi clicked through the articles one by one, reacting to each with an angry emoji. Then, she visited the movie’s information page.

‘1 star.’

She bitterly lamented that there was no option to give it zero stars. She had waited so long to show him her music.

“This is so annoying.”

—

<< Previous Chapter | Index | Next Chapter >>