Glory Film Company

Episode 24: The First Meeting (1)

Let’s rewind and break down the timeline of that afternoon…

Around noon, Ha Pilsung arrived at the office, dropped a few vague remarks, and then left a newly completed script on the desk before heading out for lunch. Was it around 12:30?
A few minutes after Ha Pilsung left, Lee Jaehyun walked into the office, wearing a perplexed expression as if he couldn’t believe a company could be located inside a bar.

Then, he placed the casting note that Youngkwang had given him on the desk and remarked that he really liked the role.

Seeing the worn and slightly crumpled script on the desk, Youngkwang could sense Jaehyun’s growing attachment to the project over the past few days, filling him with a sense of pride.

While they were chatting…

“So, what’s this?”
Jaehyun had spotted Ha Pilsung’s revised script.

“Oh, it’s a draft of an alternate version. I haven’t gone through it myself yet.”

“Mind if I take a look?”

“Of course not.”

Ha Pilsung, who claimed he’d just be stepping out for lunch, still hadn’t returned by 1:30. For someone who usually polished off his meals in 15 minutes flat at the Happiness Kimbap joint downstairs, this delay was clearly intentional—a gesture to give Youngkwang ample time to review the script.

That impatient man deliberately staying out of the way? That means he’s not confident about it, thought Youngkwang, who had already read the unease on Ha Pilsung’s face earlier.

So, before reviewing the script himself, he decided to let Jaehyun take a look first. And, as expected…

“I think a lot of the strengths are gone,” Jaehyun said bluntly, flipping through the pages with a furrowed brow. “The charm of the piece is diminished. The scenes I found compelling as an actor have been watered down.”

“I see.”

“But I can understand why it was written this way.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because it’s safe. Familiar, easy to pitch.”

“Hmm…”

Youngkwang smiled in satisfaction at how Jaehyun had articulated his own thoughts, just as the door to the My Way Pictures office creaked open.

“Nothing has been finalized yet,” Youngkwang added.

“But it’s still under consideration, right? This version too.”

“True.”

“Well, depending on the director’s skill, it could be risky. You can’t always translate everything you write into what you see on screen. If you’re not confident, you might have to scrap it altogether.”

And that’s how Jaehyun made his first impression.

At that exact moment, Ha Pilsung, who was cautiously opening the door with a nervous heart, clearly heard some “young punk” in the room criticizing him.

“Youngkwang PD, who’s this guy?”

Already irritable from sleep deprivation and a pounding heart, Ha Pilsung ended up calling Jaehyun “that punk” right to his face.

Jaehyun simply chuckled.

“Oh, he’s the male lead in your project,” Youngkwang casually introduced them.

*****

“Director Ha Pilsung is known for his skillful use of clichés,” Youngkwang remarked, letting his words flow like a mediator while delivering compliments that sounded suspiciously like veiled criticism.

“I haven’t read the script yet, but considering how clear his intentions usually are, I’m sure those strengths shine through in the new version.”

“Y-yeah, sure. If we play to our strengths…” Ha Pilsung was about to say something about it being “safe” but swallowed the words. Jaehyun’s earlier remark about it being easy to pitch was still ringing in his ears.

“So, where’d you find this guy?” Ha Pilsung asked, now scrutinizing Jaehyun.

“At the audition for Director Kwak Junghoon’s next project,” Youngkwang replied, briefly recounting how he discovered Jaehyun.

Now that I think about it, his look is good. His voice isn’t grating, and there’s something unique about his breathing and delivery.

Ha Pilsung pushed aside his initial annoyance and assessed Jaehyun objectively.

For the role of Lee Minwook—a man who can’t forget his first love, Ha Yeonsoo—the actor would need to evoke enough charm for the audience to root for him, even as they found reasons to dislike him. Such a role required strong conviction, not only in acting but also in appearance. So far, Jaehyun seemed to fit the bill.

“Still, if his acting was any good, wouldn’t Director Kwak have picked him?” Ha Pilsung muttered, unable to resist showing his doubts about Youngkwang’s choice.

“Oh… That day was just for casting supporting and minor roles,” Youngkwang replied curtly, as if wondering if more explanation was necessary.

Ha Pilsung nodded, recalling Director Kwak’s style from their past encounters.
If someone didn’t fit his standards, no matter how fresh or promising they were, he wouldn’t reach out.

“I really like this script, Director.”

Up until then, Lee Jaehyun had been smiling nonchalantly, but now he looked Ha Pilsung straight in the eye as he spoke.

“Sure, Minwook’s actions can be pathetic at times, but they’re also so relatable. I can understand exactly why he behaves that way.”

“Ha, really?”

Ha Pilsung leaned back in his chair, resting against the backrest, as Jaehyun pulled a notebook out of his bag.

“What’s that?”

“It’s Minwook’s diary. I wrote it myself.”

“…A diary?”

Without further explanation, Jaehyun handed the notebook to Ha Pilsung, who took it with a captivated expression and began flipping through the pages.

“Kuh… Haha… Ha…”

“Sigh…”

“Whew…”

“Oh, so that’s why. Ah… I see.”

“Ha! Haha! Hahaha!”

Ha Pilsung’s expressions changed dramatically as he read the diary.

Youngkwang, unable to help himself, mimicked Ha Pilsung’s shifting expressions as he watched with curiosity, glancing at the diary in the director’s hands.

He’s really dug deep into this character.

A film is a 120-minute art form. Though its runtime might be just two hours, the events within it can span days, months, or even years.

Actors must read between the lines, analyze their characters, and create unique portrayals. Writing a character’s backstory, autobiography, or diary is an effective way to do this.

Where did they grow up? What did they experience? What do they feel toward certain people? What wounds have they suffered? The more detailed the circumstances, the more three-dimensional the character becomes.

Jaehyun, too, had analyzed Ha Pilsung’s script and used the diary as a tool to research his character. But what on earth had he written in there that had Ha Pilsung tearing up and laughing?

“Wow, seriously, this is insane. Is this based on personal experience?”

“Pardon?”

“That part about getting your head stuck in the subway doors while trying to look cool. It’s so vivid! This really happened to you, didn’t it?”

“No comment.”

“Pfft! Hahaha! It totally happened! Didn’t it? Oh man! And then the next station opened on the opposite side? Hahaha! How many stops did you ride with your hair stuck like that? One, two, three…”

“What could I do? It’s not like I could pull myself free.”

Seeing Ha Pilsung’s reaction, Jaehyun responded slyly, and Youngkwang chuckled at the exchange.

Simple-minded.

It seemed Ha Pilsung had completely forgotten Jaehyun’s earlier remarks about the director’s abilities. His face now radiated joy.

The sting of having his skills questioned was soothed by Jaehyun’s understanding of his work and the passion he had poured into researching it.

I get it. I really do.

“You write well too. Have you done this kind of thing before?”

“Diaries just need to be honest.”

“And this one… feels so real. Truly.”

The notebook Ha Pilsung set down was filled with dense writing.

Considering that Youngkwang had handed over the script on Tuesday afternoon and it was now Thursday noon, less than 48 hours had passed. In that time, Jaehyun had read the script until it was dog-eared, analyzed the character, and written a diary. It was a moment that revealed his passion, speed, style, and talent.

“What do you think, Director? Did the actor capture your vision well?” Youngkwang asked Ha Pilsung.

“Honestly, there are a few interpretations that differ from mine, but I can see how they’re possible. It’s interesting. Makes me want to see more.”

“So, can we go with the original script?” Youngkwang asked casually, gauging whether Ha Pilsung was still attached to his revised version.

Ha Pilsung let out a deep sigh.

“What do you think, PD?”

For the first time, Ha Pilsung turned to Producer Youngkwang for guidance.

Youngkwang had known his answer from the start. He had merely been waiting for Ha Pilsung’s stubbornness to subside.

“Instead of rounding out the edges and creating something safe, let’s make a sharp spear.”

A debut commercial film.

How complex must the director’s feelings be when the project’s funding is uncertain?

When Youngkwang had first shown up on set and said, “Let’s make a movie,” Ha Pilsung had probably felt nothing but excitement. But as time passed and reality set in, fear and hesitation crept in. Watching Director Kwak Junghoon work up close had likely exacerbated his insecurities, fueling comparisons.

But Youngkwang firmly believed that once Ha Pilsung regained his confidence and rhythm, the genius he had initially sensed in him would shine through.

Fortunately, Jaehyun had served as the spark to shake Ha Pilsung out of his slump, and Youngkwang had just poured gasoline on the fire.

“Fine. Let’s just go with the original script! Why did I even bother pulling an all-nighter?”

Scratching his head as he alternated between the two versions of the script, Ha Pilsung finally took a marker and scribbled over the cover of the revised draft.

“We said we were making a niche-buster, right? Mixing romance and black comedy. I’m the one who chose this tough path because I wanted it.”

“The director is responsible for the project, but there’s no need to feel alone. There will be many people, including myself, working to ensure this film is made properly. The actors, camera crew, lighting, art team, marketing… countless staff members will throw themselves into this film,” Youngkwang said confidently.

Ha Pilsung, along with Lee Jaehyun, nodded in agreement.

“When’s the audition, by the way?” Jaehyun asked, raising his hand slightly as Ha Pilsung began to regain his composure.

“The camera will be set up shortly,” Youngkwang replied, glancing at his watch. He had asked Choi Suhyeon to bring her camera for the audition. It wasn’t just about saving costs; he was genuinely curious about her equipment.

“Oh? What about actress Kang Jooyeon? Wasn’t her meeting scheduled for today?” Ha Pilsung asked, tilting his head in confusion. He was sure the script deadline and Jooyeon’s meeting were both slated for Thursday.

“Oh, she preferred Friday, so we’ll meet her tomorrow. Let’s focus on this actor’s audition and discuss what we need to wrap up today,” Youngkwang said.

“I see… okay,” Ha Pilsung replied, though he still seemed a bit unsettled.

Just then, a neatly dressed man entered the My Way Pictures office.

“And you are…?” Youngkwang asked, surprised that someone had found their way to such an out-of-the-way location.

The man glanced at Ha Pilsung for confirmation before bowing politely. “Hello, I’m actor Park Younghoon.”

Ha Pilsung let out an awkward laugh. “Ah, well, I was recommended this guy as a potential lead, so I invited him today.”

“……”

“……”

Was this turning into an impromptu showdown?

Youngkwang frowned slightly, sensing tension when suddenly…

“I’m not late, am I?”

Choi Suhyeon burst into the office, laden with camera equipment.

“Where have you been?”

“Oh, just scouting locations this morning,” she said vaguely, rattling off her schedule. Right behind her, Director Joo Kanghyuk entered with an awkward expression, adding to the strange tableau.

Despite the suspicious vibe—perhaps they’d been on a date—Youngkwang decided to overlook it. As long as they stuck to the schedule, he didn’t care.

With the atmosphere slightly tense, the camera setup was completed.

“You both received the script in advance, right? Do you have any specific scenes prepared?” Ha Pilsung asked, arranging a few chairs and a table for the audition.

“I’ve got most of the script memorized,” Jaehyun said confidently.

“I’ve also memorized it!” Park Younghoon replied, refusing to be outdone.

“Oh? So I can ask for any scene?” Ha Pilsung asked, looking between the two.

“Yes, just give me a moment,” Jaehyun replied.

“Same here,” Park Younghoon added.

The tension in the room was palpable.

“Let’s try Scene 92,” Ha Pilsung said.

Everyone’s hands moved simultaneously, flipping through the script.

Scene 92…

Youngkwang suppressed a laugh as he read through the scene.

Ha Pilsung, this guy has really lost it.

Scene 92 was no ordinary scene. It featured the lead characters’ first intimate encounter, intertwined with the climactic breakup scene, where past and present collided to reveal the male protagonist’s psychological turmoil. It was the linchpin of the entire narrative.

No supporting actor, no proper discussion about the project, and he’s asking them to tackle this? Well… it’ll definitely save time in the decision-making process.

Youngkwang shifted his gaze to the two actors, curious about how they would take it.

“Understood. Is there any specific direction you’d like to give?” Jaehyun asked casually, showing no sign of nerves, in stark contrast to Park Younghoon’s visible tension.

“Make it as pathetic as possible,” Ha Pilsung said with a mischievous grin.

And then…

“Should I start with the pathetic take and follow it up with an alternate version?” Jaehyun said, delivering a provocative line that reverberated through the room.

An alternate version…?

It was the kind of boldness that thrilled Youngkwang. That’s the spirit of a leading actor.