Chapter 141
TL: KSD
Working on the movie scenario felt like a battle with the unknown.
And what was that unknown? It was the presence of an old man next to me who endlessly spouted knowledge I had no clue about.
“This scene would look better if we used sunlight as the key light. Can’t we change the background to an outdoor setting?”
“Huh? What light?”
“Ah, you see, that’s…”
By this point, everything So Tae-woong said sounded to me like, <Ah, you don’t know this? This is called a ‘key light’…>
I was a complete outsider when it came to movies, whereas So Tae-woong was practically a walking embodiment of cinema. Our collaboration wasn’t exactly smooth.
Film speed, emulsion sensitivity, curvature, rotoscoping, loose framing, ripple dissolve, variable focal transitions, angle of view, screen persistence, and so on…
We were practically speaking different languages.I even started thinking that it might be better for me to just write a novel, hand it over to a screenwriter to adapt into a screenplay, and then pass it on to So Tae-woong.
Apart from that, everything else was going smoothly.
No, it was progressing well.
In the post-apocalyptic film industry after COVID-19, where it was so hard to find veteran staff, they all gathered efficiently under So Tae-woong’s command.
-Staff… assemble!
So Tae-woong, almost as if hypnotizing them, managed to organize a team with the investment funds he had received and started preparing to begin production with his crew.
Once things reached that stage, there was no more hiding it. Rumors began to spread that Director So Tae-woong was working on a new project. The previously quiet entertainment industry began to buzz with excitement.
And around that time.
“Phew…”
“You’ve worked hard, Author Moon.”
“You too, Director~nim.”
The scenario work was finished.
It had been about two months since I started working with So Tae-woong.
EP 9 – Sound
For me, working on the movie scenario felt like some sort of exotic experience. It was unusual in the sense that I was trying something new, and also in the sense that I was returning to my usual routine after it was over.
I went back to my everyday life.
I decided not to get further involved in the film production.
Honestly, I didn’t have the ability to stick by So Tae-woong’s side and act as some kind of assistant director. Knowledge aside, age was also an issue. It was obvious I’d only cause unnecessary trouble.
And based on what I’d learned about film production this time, it wasn’t strange at all. Usually, screenwriters just hand over the script and step aside.
Because the film belongs to the director.
There’s a minor tradition where even the writer’s credit often gets passed on to the director, but I didn’t have the capacity to worry about such things.
If there’s any fault to be found, perhaps it lies with the gods who didn’t toss a more righteous , power-hungry individual back into time instead of me.
Didn’t the old Joseon scholars always plead, ‘If you find me displeasing, feel free to kill me’ whenever the king strayed from the path? My approach to life was pretty much like that.
Whether I’m thrown back into the cracks of time, or killed, do whatever you want.
No matter what you do, you can’t take away my literature.
With that twisted mindset, I continued to write again today.
“Hmph…”
<You Can Do It Too! So Tae-woong’s 2-Month Express Film Scenario Class!> left me with many lessons.
The biggest was that I came to understand stories told through visuals, not words. In that world, light, composition, and symbolism are what breathe life into the narrative.
Whether you shine light directly on a character’s face or from the side can metaphorically suggest the character’s morality. Whether a conversation takes place in a straight line or in a curved composition can create a sense of authority in the dialogue.
Additionally, the world of film operates on physical time. Therefore, the rhythm of dialogue is more important than the content itself. The need for more condensed language is just a bonus.
So, I was practicing how to apply this newfound understanding to my novels. After writing a few rough drafts, I was beginning to feel like I was starting to grasp it, even if just a little.
However, there was still an overwhelming amount of unresolved concerns.
To clear all of them would still require a significant amount of time and effort…
“That’s right. Just because you’ve gained some insight doesn’t mean it’s over. You still need to do wall-gazing meditation and practice cultivating energy and eating… Only then will it all accumulate into true skill.”
“…?”
Park Chang-woon, who heard how I was doing, started spouting strange things again.
Cultivating energy and eating? What was that? Was he telling me to eat breakfast well?
“Breakfast, huh… I have been skipping it quite a lot lately—”
“What are you talking about? Stop with the ‘energy brunch’ nonsense. Just come over here and listen.”
I went to school after a long time.
I wasn’t suddenly hit with a wave of academic zeal so strong that I had to use the phrase ‘after a long time’ to describe my school attendance. No, it was just that the school had sent a notice. Basically, telling me to get my butt over there.
So, I went, and sure enough, Park Chang-woon was waiting for me, clearly preparing something in advance.
He even thrust at me the cursed danso flute from which the screams of countless wandering souls could be heard.
I felt a threat to my very life.
“Well… You seem to be writing well, so I won’t say much about that, but… do you think it’s okay to skip school like this?”
“What?”
In my mind, I wasn’t thinking ‘I’m sorry’ but more like ‘Why are you bringing this up now?’
Why did I even enroll in Baekhak Arts Middle School? It was because the school didn’t care if I skipped. Definitely not because I failed the GED.
However, there are social norms, so my mouth moved on its own, spitting out the obligatory words.
“I’m… sorry?”
“Is that so? Are you really sorry? Have you reflected enough?”
Without waiting for me to even nod, Park Chang-woon continued speaking.
“Good. Then that’s settled. Let’s do better from now on.”
“…?”
I wasn’t so much upset as I was confused. What the hell was happening?
Fortunately, I soon understood what was going on by watching the situation unfold.
Next to Park Chang-woon, who was lecturing me in the teacher’s office, stood a teacher I had never seen before. This teacher had their arms crossed, lips pouting, looking like a rather disgruntled duck.
As soon as Park Chang-woon’s ‘lecture’ ended, this teacher, clearly flabbergasted, interrupted.
“No! Department Head! That’s it? We’re ending it like this?”
“Well, I called him in and gave him a good scolding. What else do you want?”
“This, this…!”
As expected from a seasoned PUBG player (who can’t shoot), Park Chang-woon didn’t stop his metaphorical teabagging, even as the other teacher looked like they were about to foam at the mouth.
“This won’t do. Moon In! Hold out your palm!”
“Corporal punishment is banned.”
“Oh, damn!”
In the end, the teacher who had been monitoring and urging Park Chang-woon left with a ‘Just you wait!’ look after a few more exchanges.
Park Chang-woon, not intimidated in the slightest, simply let out a puff of air through his nose, Hmph.
It was only then that I asked the question.
“What exactly is going on here?”
“Well… let’s see… How should I explain this…”
As if he couldn’t figure out where to start, Park Chang-woon scratched his head in frustration, then suddenly shifted to talking about politics.
“Well, the president changed recently.”
“Is that so?”
“‘Is that so?’ What are you, living under a rock? Don’t you watch the news?”
“No.”
“Well, you got me there…”
To me, all news is essentially a ‘rerun’. That’s one of the terrifying perks of being a time traveler.
As I entertained these pointless thoughts, Park Chang-woon continued.
“Anyway, with the new president, the ruling party changed as well. The fancy term for that is ‘regime change.’ Got it?”
“Yes…”
“Right, and with that, the education policy has also changed. So, do you have any interest in hearing about the changes in Korea’s education policy and the internal politics of the Baekhak Arts Foundation? I can give you a four-hour explanation.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Good, that’s a wise decision.”
With that, Park Chang-woon tapped my behind lightly with the danso and kicked me out of the teacher’s office.
“Now, get going.”
“Goodbye.”
“Yeah, take care.”
As the exceptional time traveler that I am, I dodged yet another dangerous situation today, narrowly escaping a dreadful fate.
But sometimes, dreadful fate came seeking me out directly.
Like today, as I was watching Gu Yu-na cause yet another bloodbath during art class, a text message arrived.
-Author Moon, do you have a moment?
It was So Tae-woong.
***
There is a saying that life is the ‘C’ between ‘B’ and ‘D’.
It means that between Birth and Death, there exists a ‘C’, and the widely accepted academic theory is that this ‘C’ stands for Chicken.
However, some argue that the ‘C’ actually stands for Choice.
I hate that theory.
So much is already decided the moment you are born.
Humans don’t have the right to choose anything.
This is my gloomy personal theory.
But this time, I had no choice but to rethink the importance of choice.
Life is a series of choices, and if you make the wrong one, you can end up in a pretty miserable situation.
And accepting So Tae-woong’s proposal was the beginning of that.
“A casting audition judge? Me?!”
“Yes.”
So Tae-woong nodded as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
But it didn’t feel natural to me at all.
I didn’t know much about the entertainment industry, and I knew even less about the film industry. How could I possibly evaluate actors?
Yet So Tae-woong was adamant that I had to be on the judging panel.
“If the screenwriter doesn’t look at the actors, who else has the right to?”
“But I’m still young…”
So Tae-woong responded with his eyes instead of words.
“Young? You? Don’t make me laugh.”
“Tch.”
Apparently, the age excuse didn’t work on So Tae-woong.
The unbeatable shield I used to flip-flop between being a child and an adult, depending on what was convenient, failed me this time.
Even Lim Yang-wook, who was standing beside us, took So Tae-woong’s side instead of mine. Truly, as expected of a ‘honorary Japanese’ who sold out his country and people for money.
“Don’t be so scared. Just give it a try. Wasn’t working on the script also a kind of challenge for you?”
“Why are you siding with the director and not with me? Aren’t you my manager?”
“Well, why did you sign a direct contract for the movie project with Director So, without your manager?”
“Let’s move on to the next topic.”
“I swear, I can’t take this…”
Lim Yang-wook shook his head and then tried to persuade me with a more practical argument.
“Honestly, your expertise doesn’t really matter. Just having you sit there will be helpful, right? Isn’t that right, Director?”
“Exactly.”
That was enough for me to grasp the situation.
“So, it’s for my name value?”
“Exactly. Name value. The shocking news of ‘a screenplay co-written by So Tae-woong and Moon In’ making its way into the media. The impact would be no joke.”
“Why are you mixing in English instead of speaking Korean?”
“Because I’m working overtime to send your novel to the U.S., while also helping with the film adaptation, and I’m so sleep-deprived I’m losing my mind. Why?”
“Let’s move on to the next topic.”
As Lim Yang-wook and I had our usual back-and-forth, Director So Tae-woong chuckled.
With a smile still on his face, he chimed in to support Lim Yang-wook.
“Well, beyond the business reasons, you’re more than qualified. There are things only someone who knows the story inside out can see. We need multiple perspectives, which is why there are multiple judges. The screenwriter’s role is essential in that sense.”
“If you say so, Director…”
As I’ve reflected many times before.
I shouldn’t have said ‘yes’ back then…
* * *
A high school freshman is in a bit of an awkward position to be called a child actor. It’s an age where you need more than just crying on cue.
At this point, more skills are required.
This is the stage where acting ability starts to matter more than the actor’s actual age.
Especially in the entertainment world, filled with young, pretty, and even younger-looking people. High school roles are something anyone with the guts to wear a school uniform would take a shot at.
And when too many people apply for a job, it becomes a problem for industry professionals.
Kim Byul was feeling the same emotions that radical Americans wearing MAGA hats experience after seeing their jobs taken by immigrants.
‘Law…! We need a law to protect our jobs…!’
If a law like <Only actual high school students can be cast in roles of high school students in media productions> were to pass, Kim Byul would happily cast her vote in favor.
But there was no such law, and Kim Byul had to endure the harsh winds of this cruel world.
As she looked at the women in their 20s and 30s waiting in the audition room, Kim Byul couldn’t help but think.
“Oh my, Byul! Long time no see!”
“Hello, unnieee~!”
She stretched out her words and added a nasal tone, feigning excitement, but inside, Kim Byul was filled with hatred for these ‘job thieves’.
If Baekhak Entertainment found out, they might cover it up with something like, <These are the personal opinions of the actor and do not reflect the company’s stance>. But Kim Byul was desperate.
It wasn’t the first time older women had stolen high school roles from her.
What irritated her the most was how these women pretended to be embarrassed about playing high school students, yet secretly took pride in saying things like, ‘Can I still pull off wearing a school uniform?’
‘When on earth are these people going to age!’
‘Why do they still look like high school students!’
What fueled Kim Byul’s anger even more were the employees at Baekhak Entertainment who made a big fuss, saying, <This time, you’ll definitely get the part!>
Wasn’t this supposed to be a child actor audition?
Why were these women, old enough to have ID cards, here?
Of course, Kim Byul knew full well that the reason was their fierce ambition to attach their names to Director So Tae-woong’s film.
And Kim Byul also had that same ambition burning inside her. She waited for her turn more eagerly than ever.
Ten years of struggle.
Step by step, she had climbed her way up.
If she could land a lead role in Director So Tae-woong’s movie…
“Ugh…!”
Could she finally be rewarded for the past ten years?
The script in Kim Byul’s clenched hand crumpled, and soon, her turn arrived.
“Kim Byul, it’s your turn. Please come in now.”
“Yes! I’m coming!”
With a determined heart, Kim Byul took one step after another.
She stepped into the most nerve-wracking audition room she had ever faced.
And what she saw there was…
“…?”
“…?”
Moon In, nervously sweating and avoiding eye contact with her.
“…!!”
*****
If you enjoy this novel, please review and rate it at Novelupdates. Thanks! 😊
Join our Discord to receive latest chapter announcements or to report mistakes: .gg/GGKyZWDuZM
This chapter upload first at NovelBin.Com