Chapter 7
Working with rookies was always frustrating — but what was even more frustrating was when agencies insisted on forcing them into projects, and advertisers actually agreed.
“They laugh and eat together, and I’m the one stuck doing all the hard work.”
Director Cha Seong-tae grumbled, cursing under his breath as he set up the camera and checked the monitor.
The rookie actor, who had quickly finished getting ready, was already standing within the camera frame, listening attentively to the storyboard explanation.
She wasn’t clumsy — in fact, she was sharp and alert. But still, how good could a rookie possibly be? If he expected too much, he’d just end up getting annoyed. The slight smile that had formed on Director Cha’s face crumpled again.
“Director, would you like a cool drink?”
As expected, the rookie’s manager approached him with an ingratiating smile. Probably buttering him up in advance, knowing how easily he’d get irritated.
When the director ignored him, the assistant director cheerfully took the drink instead, bowing politely.
“Ah, thank you so much.”
“Please take good care of our actor.”
“Of course, of course.”
Leaving those meaningless exchanges behind, Director Cha focused on checking the rookie’s outfit and hair.
As they had discussed earlier, the long, straight hair and fitted sleeveless top paired with loose denim wide pants perfectly captured the freshness of a woman in her early twenties.
The image looked good.
A staff member who had been briefing the rookie signaled to the director. Cha picked up the microphone.
“Alright, extras, step into the frame.”
Staff members gathered the extras into position.
The concept of the shoot was youth.
Despite the scorching summer heat, young people filled the park — playing basketball, dancing, and skateboarding.
In the middle of it all, the rookie actress would glide past on a skateboard.
It didn’t matter if she didn’t actually know how to ride. She just needed to balance and push herself forward a few meters.
Of course, if she couldn’t even do that much, despite all the concept meetings, there would be nothing left to say.
“Let’s take it easy. Ready…”
The extras bounced basketballs and practiced their dance routines for rehearsal. But maybe because of the heat, the energy was low.
Unexpectedly, without anyone telling her to, the rookie started chatting naturally with the extras who were supposed to be skateboarding with her, laughing and blending into the scene as if it were real.
Cha’s lips twitched upward slightly. What was her name again?
“Action.”
Her face filled the monitor. Ah, that’s right — Kang Da-eun.
Her bright, refreshing smile was surprisingly satisfying.
“Good. Let’s have you ride the board straight toward the camera.”
At his cue, Da-eun casually dropped the skateboard, set one foot on it, and pushed off — clearly, she’d done this before.
Her movement looked natural.
Cha was pleased but didn’t let his guard down. Skateboarding had been trendy once — maybe she’d just picked it up then.
Still, rookies almost always exaggerated their expressions in close-up shots, trying too hard to look cute. Even experienced actors struggled to keep a natural expression.
He clicked his tongue.
“Camera will be close up — just look toward it and pass by.”
The CF’s concept was simple:
under bright sunlight, vibrant young people laughing and moving, and in the middle of them, the lead glides by with a refreshing smile. The sound of a vitamin drink can opening would fill the screen.
Da-eun pushed the board forward and rolled toward the camera —
“Ah—!”
Thump, thump, thump. One of the extras had lost control of the basketball and messed up the shot.
“Cut! NG!”
The director shot the extra a sharp glare. “Sorry!” came the immediate apology.
Cha let out a harsh sigh and raised his hand.
“Ready again.”
The set turned tense and the extras grew stiffer, but he didn’t care. The background would fade anyway — all that mattered was the main actress.
On screen, Da-eun’s expression was flawless. Cha nodded slightly.
“Cue!”
Music blasted through the speakers as the extras began moving again. The dazzling summer sunlight made the sky even bluer. The lively band music fit perfectly.
When the female vocalist hit the high note, Da-eun stepped on her board again, picking up speed.
Yes, that’s it!
Cha felt a thrill in his chest. The mood was perfect — Da-eun radiated pure vitality.
Behind her, the extras danced and played basketball, full of life. Between the green leaves, sunlight streamed down, catching in Da-eun’s long hair as she came closer.
Even if she winked at the camera, he would’ve let it slide — it was that good.
But then—
“……”
Cha froze, staring at the monitor.
As Da-eun approached, her face was overflowing with life — bright, clean, and effortlessly captivating.
She scrunched her nose slightly and leaned forward playfully, as if teasing a friend.
The camera operator actually gasped softly, “Wow…”
With the pulse of the music in the background, it was hard to describe — but the energy was electric.
“Cut! Okay!”
Cha finally snapped back to reality and shouted.
Da-eun blinked, startled that he’d called “OK” so quickly.
Yes — that was youth.
Her energy filled the screen, embodying everything he wanted. It had been a long time since he’d seen a rookie like her.
“Da-eun! That was perfect — come take a look.”
The scowl he’d been wearing all day had completely melted into a wide smile.
When Da-eun came over to the monitor, he grinned.
“Wow. That’s youth. Look at that — you nailed it.”
He showered her with praise, saying her energy fit the vitamin drink concept perfectly.
“This take is already great, but let’s shoot a few more just in case, okay?”
“Yes, Director.”
In the next few takes, Da-eun met every expectation. The mood on set brightened along with the director’s beaming smile.
They wrapped earlier than planned.
That evening, Cha sat in the editing room, heart pounding as he opened the footage.
Every shot was good — but the energy in that first take was the best. The extras’ later movements were more natural, but he decided he’d definitely use that first close-up of Da-eun, even if it made editing trickier.
“Alright, let’s begin.”
As he edited, his tone toward the assistant directors softened. Thanks to that, the final CF turned out better than anyone expected.
After the shoot, Da-eun’s manager, Do-yoon, rushed toward her with a fan and a bottle of ice water.
“Great work today, Ms. Kang! It was so hot, right?”
“Oh, thank you.”
Even Director Cha, who was infamous for his temper, had smiled today — if the higher-ups heard about that, they’d be stunned.
“Please get in the car. I’ve got the air conditioning running.”
Da-eun thanked him and climbed in. Do-yoon shut the door, slid into the driver’s seat, and started the engine.
He didn’t talk much, letting her rest quietly. In the rearview mirror, he saw her sipping water, cooling off.
A small smile tugged at his lips.
Honestly, he hadn’t been happy about being assigned to manage a total newcomer who hadn’t even graduated yet. He’d thought he was due for a promotion soon.
He’d met plenty of stars — pretty faces with ugly personalities and no real talent. But this one? She had beauty, talent, and charm.
If only CEO Bae, not Manager Moon, had discovered her — she could rise much faster.
Do-yoon had always been frustrated with Moon’s stiff, rule-bound ways.
This industry didn’t run on rules, after all.
A few drinks with the right people — those with money and power — and lead roles practically fell into your lap.
And while they were at it, maybe he could climb the ladder a little faster too.
