Chapter 11
The youngest writer rushed in, glancing nervously at Da-eun before gesturing for Director Shin Jung-geun and screenwriter Kim Hee-sook to step outside for a moment.
The assistant’s face had gone pale. It was clear something was wrong. So instead of scolding her for interrupting their meeting, Writer Kim stood up.
“Da-eun, sorry—just a moment.”
Leaving Da-eun behind, Kim and Director Shin followed the assistant into the hallway.
“What is it?”
“We just got a call from Gong Seol’s agency. She’s backing out of the drama. What should we do?”
“What…?!”
Director Shin cursed under his breath at the panicked report.
“Damn it.”
Kim Hee-sook closed her eyes tightly and sighed. It was an abrupt withdrawal. Rumor had it Gong Seol had been considering another project with a similar schedule, and it seemed she had chosen that one instead.
The table read was the day after tomorrow—what now?
Just as frustration began to boil over, phones started ringing all around them.
Kim ran a hand through her darkened hair, exasperated.
“Um, Director, Writer.”
A staff member, holding a receiver, looked at them with an uncomfortable expression.
“What now? What is it this time?”
Writer Kim snapped irritably, and Director Shin glanced through the conference room glass, where Da-eun was still sitting alone.
“Investor Hong Mu-seok heard that Gong Seol dropped out. He’s asking to replace her with an actress he recommends for the lead. What should we do?”
Of course. Trying to shove in his own actress while he had the chance.
“Unbelievable.”
Director Shin glanced at Kim.
“Let’s step outside. And hey—have that rookie, Kang Da-eun, head home. Tell her we’ll be in touch soon.”
Send her away already? She’d barely even heard about the project. But ignoring the assistant’s hesitant look, Writer Kim followed Director Shin out.
Out on the veranda, Director Shin lit a cigarette.
“Writer Kim, let’s just use Hong’s actress. If the investors who came for Gong Seol pull out, we’re screwed. We’re short on time—what else can we do?”
“Director!”
Kim’s voice rose in disbelief. The drama’s story revolved around twin sisters—the emotional balance between the two female leads was crucial.
Shin exhaled smoke calmly.
“Then what do you suggest? Go without a lead? Where are we supposed to find someone that skilled right away? Even if it flops, once it’s green-lit, we just have to move forward.”
Kim leaned back against the railing and sighed again.
“What a damn mess…”
Shin clicked his tongue.
“You know how this industry is. It’s never clean. What can you do?”
Getting the actor you wanted was a rare luxury. And last-minute disasters like this happened all the time.
“At least the male lead is still Jung Si-won.”
Kim rubbed her face and nodded reluctantly. It wasn’t comforting, but what else could she do? The broadcast date was already tight, and they were bound to shoot the later episodes with half-finished scripts.
Finally, she forced herself to speak.
“Fine. But I don’t want to just accept whoever he pushes.”
No matter how rushed they were, she refused to let the cast be filled with names chosen without her say.
“So what’s your plan?”
“Between Hong’s recommended actress and the supporting actress, Kang Da-eun—I want whoever’s better for the lead, in acting or image.”
Director Shin sighed and nodded.
“All right. Let’s move fast.”
They would have to postpone the table read. Everyone scrambled to make calls—to actors, reporters, and staff.
“Hello, this is Kim Hee-sook.”
“I’m so sorry, there’s been a change. Yes, I’ll get back to you right away.”
The staff kept bowing over the phone. It was humiliating, but they couldn’t just abandon a project with their names attached.
As she dialed the next number, Kim clenched her teeth.
Even under terrible conditions, they’d do their best to make it work. Everyone pushed through exhaustion and frustration.
“Ugh, seriously? Kang Da-eun even shot a commercial now?”
Hye-young bit her nails furiously in the car. Park Do-yoon, who was driving, barely suppressed a scoff.
It seemed nothing annoyed Hye-young more than Da-eun doing better than her.
Well, he couldn’t blame her entirely.
He remembered the day they met Chairman Hong Mu-seok.
Da-eun had stormed out of the meeting, disgusted, without realizing what an opportunity it had been. Such an arrogant look she’d given them.
She was so naïve. How far did she think that attitude would take her?
After Da-eun left, Do-yoon had been chewed out by CEO Bae for not keeping her seated.
Even Director Moon, who’d arrived after Hong left, scolded him for letting her walk.
Da-eun and Director Moon—both stiff-necked and inflexible.
When Do-yoon was reassigned from Da-eun’s manager to No Hye-young’s, he’d been furious. Babysitting a rookie with no results, running from one failed audition to another—it was infuriating.
But that was only a few days ago.
“Ms. No, good work today. I’ll take you home now.”
Hye-young had just wrapped shooting a music video after landing the role through an audition.
The same day she’d met Hong Mu-seok after the audition, she’d recognized the opportunity and grabbed it immediately.
Do-yoon couldn’t have been prouder. Promotion season was just around the corner, and even though Hye-young had a nasty temper, he decided to endure it.
“Don’t call me Ms. No, it sounds like I’m some old veteran.”
Hye-young snapped, still chewing on her nails. Do-yoon smiled awkwardly.
“Ah, sorry, Actress Hye-young.”
What a diva. He gritted his teeth. Once he got promoted, he wouldn’t take her crap anymore.
As he focused on driving, her phone rang. Hye-young’s tense face brightened.
“Mu-seok oppa! How did it go?”
She’d clearly been waiting for Hong’s call—still giddy over his promise to get her a lead role in a drama.
“Oh my gosh, really? You’re the best, oppa. Thank you!”
Her voice turned sweet and syrupy. Then she hung up.
“Drive to the company. I’m the female lead in We Must—I need to pick up the script.”
“Understood.”
So she’d gotten the lead. Of course. That’s how this industry worked. Da-eun had walked away without grabbing the lifeline.
Hye-young kicked the back of his seat impatiently.
“Aren’t you going to congratulate me?”
He looked at her in the rearview mirror. Her catlike eyes were sharp and expectant.
Congratulate her? For landing a role through sponsorship, not skill?
Do-yoon forced a smile.
“Oh, come on. This is just the beginning—you’ll be playing leads all the time from now on.”
“Hmm, that’s true.”
Pleased, she turned back toward the window.
Simple-minded as ever. Do-yoon smirked silently and kept his eyes on the road.
Meanwhile, Da-eun sat across from Director Moon Gi-jeong at BM Company. He placed a cup of coffee in front of her.
“You worked hard last time. I’ll send you your new manager’s contact soon.”
“Thank you.”
“Just hang in there a little longer. I…”
He trailed off before finishing his sentence.
What had he wanted to say? Da-eun studied him carefully.
In her previous life, Director Moon had clashed with the company’s CEO and eventually left to start his own agency.
But it was too early to say anything about that now.
When she looked at him quietly, he shook his head and took a sip of coffee.
“Anyway, the production company called earlier. The female lead for We Must suddenly dropped out.”
“What? But the table read’s tomorrow.”
No wonder things had felt hectic at the meeting yesterday.
“It’s been postponed.”
Da-eun nodded slowly. This hadn’t happened in her previous life.
She’d thought everything was following the same path—but even a single difference, like not having any scars this time, had already changed her future beyond prediction.
She fiddled with her coffee cup, lost in thought.
“Chairman Hong Mu-seok is pushing No Hye-young for the lead.”
“Ah.”
Da-eun looked up from the cup. So even in this life, Hye-young was getting Hong’s backing.
But would Director Shin and Writer Kim really agree—without even holding auditions?
Sure enough, Director Moon set his cup down.
“It seems they’re going to hold an audition between the two of you—for the lead role.”
Between Kang Da-eun and No Hye-young, whoever suited the main character better, in skill or image, would be chosen.
“They’ll hold it tomorrow at the table-read venue.”
He handed her a script, opened to a specific page.
“Practice this scene.”
Da-eun took it and began reading slowly.
It was the part where the heroine’s emotions exploded.
