I Only Play Villains

Would it suit you?(1)

Producer Song Jeong-woo was walking down the aisle with assistant director Kim Hyun-tae.

He was on the phone with scriptwriter Kim Sang-hee.

“Writer Kim, do you really have to become a private? Can’t we just do it comfortably in our 30s and 40s? It’s about the rank of sergeant or sergeant.”

-No.

“Don’t just say no to cutting like that. Why not? It’s a murder case that took place at an overseas dispatch base. What’s the point of sending an ordinary soldier to the Middle East and committing a shooting spree?”

– I know. I don’t know why. But there is a most important problem.

“what is that?”

– It is weak to elicit sympathy from viewers. How many families of professional soldiers are there in the whole nation? Conversely, private soldiers sympathize with almost all households with sons.

Producer Song Jung-woo softened a little and said.

“But this is a courtroom drama starring a lawyer, not a criticism of military abuse. Why do you put so much effort into a semi-supporting role after an episode comes out?”

– You know that the devil is grounded in the details.

“Why is the devil suddenly appearing?”

-These days, PD-nim said that he was talking about the devil behind his back.

“… No, that’s it. As if writer Kim sold his soul to the devil, every time he pulls out an obsessed viewer rating, so in a sense of praise…”

It’s a lie.

Because of his insistence on art disease, I once spilled words at a drinking party saying that he was like a devil.

But you can’t tell the truth.

“And let’s find an actor who looks young and meek like a real private soldier. He speaks well, but will a young rookie really play this character?”

-So you held an open audition. I’m trying to find an actor who looks young, has good acting skills, and has a low ransom.

“You didn’t audition for the role of Private First Class? I put it in while auditioning for other roles.”

-In a drama, every role is a main character, and each has its own story. I always write scripts with that mindset.

“Let’s just raise the age group, huh?”

– Talk to you later. I have to write a script because Phil is stuck again.

“Writer Kim! Kim’s work…!”

Before I could say anything, the phone hung up.

Song Jeong-woo did not know that assistant director Kim Hyeon-tae muttered to himself, ‘They fight while looking at each other in the mirror.’

He put the phone in with a dejected expression, and Kim Hyun-tae spoke cautiously.

“Peddy. Can’t you?”

“Hey, Mr. Kim Sang-hee’s insistence is no joke again. head is hot I’m going to have a stroke before 50 like this.”

“I pay too much attention to one minor, non-important extra-class quasi-supporting role…”

“Hyeontae, be careful!”

While walking while looking this way, Kim Hyun-tae failed to see the man standing in front of him and tried to bump into him.

Song Jeong-woo quickly stopped him by grabbing his arm, but the next moment, with a loud noise, Kim Hyun-tae was immediately driven to the wall.

The man grabbed Kim Hyun-tae by the collar as if he had eyes behind him and pushed Kim Hyun-tae up to the wall with one hand.

Song Jeong-woo, who checked the man’s eyes from the side, blinked.

“Ohh······?”

***

“I’m waiting here for a moment.”

Jeong Su-ryun left her words and intervened among the crowd in the studio.

The dazzling lights, the noise of scratching metal, and the usual profanity bursting from everywhere.

And people who come and go with big filming equipment.

Jeong Seo-hoon felt as if he was on the deck of a ship he was working on.

Similar landscapes that bring up the memories of soldiers.

However, the sight of female celebrities boasting slender bodies walking around lightly breaks the scenery he was locked in.

‘Uncomfortable.’

There are too many people hanging around nearby and wandering around non-stop.

Of course, there are no enemy soldiers, snipers, or spies who want to harm him.

The frontal lobe, which controls rationality, is so reading, but some of the brain cells that are tired of the battlefield are overly excited.

The sound of footsteps coming closer to you, brushing past you, and moving away again.

Jeong Seo-hoon stood quietly, concentrating on the sounds behind him.

It wasn’t because he wanted to, but overexcited brain cells were urging him to do so.

The sound of footsteps approaching and moving away from an invisible place makes the tension bristle.

Even though he knows that they are staff, celebrities, and people who are just passing by, his fingertips struggle with impulses.

I know that if I constantly look around in all directions and stay vigilant, my mind will be at ease.

But if you do that, everyone else will look at you strangely, and your frontal lobe warns you that you are holding back your neck bones.

‘It passes.’

‘It passed.’

‘It passed.’

Suddenly, the sound of 152 footsteps approached from behind him, and passed in front again as if brushing.

Jeong Seo-hoon knew that counting them one by one was not normal.

Because this is a safe country that has nothing to do with war.

The ‘soldier’ thought it was natural that he was counting these things one by one.

Because you never know when there might be an enemy hiding among them.

“Peddy. Can’t you?”

‘5 meters.’

“Hey, Mr. Kim Sang-hee’s insistence is no joke again. head is hot I’m going to have a stroke before 50 like this.”

‘Two meters.’

“Too much for an extra-level quasi-supporting role that is not very important…”

“Oh, Hyun-tae!”

The moment a hard, somewhat pointed object touches your back.

The tense protest that had been suppressed was cut off, and Jeong Seo-hoon moved ‘as it was in actual combat’.

He shook off the ‘rifle’ aimed at his back, turned around, and pushed the chest of the ‘rebels who attacked from behind pretending to be citizens’ to the wall.

Then, he pointed the muzzle of the stolen rifle to the chin of the ‘rebel disguised as a citizen’…

‘ah!’

After the nervous reaction that had been pickled in practice exploded once, reason reacted belatedly.

The face of a frightened man in his 30s, confused and at a loss.

The pupils of Lee Seong, who started to catch up, quickly scanned the opponent’s entire body.

What he put on his back was not a gun but a microphone stick.

A protruding belly, limbs with no muscles, a frightened face, rough breathing.

He could never be called a soldier.

Even a child soldier would be braver than this.

It’s a waste.

***

The moment Kim Hyeon-tae, assistant director, who took a blind eye, collided with the young man who was standing there, the scenery changed in an instant, as if something was flashing.

Suddenly, Kim Hyeon-tae is suppressed by a young man, and the young man is choking him and holding a microphone stick under his chin like a gun.

Ordinarily, he would have been embarrassed and stopped, apologized, or asked if it was too much.

‘Huh?’

However, PD Song Jung-woo took a half step back at that moment.

I moved to a position where I could best see the young man’s profile. It was the director’s instinct.

I raised the script book I was holding up to the bottom of my eyes to make lower windows horizontally, and put my palms on the snowballs to make upper windows.

‘Look at this?’

The young man glared at Kim Hyeon-tae fiercely right in front of him.

It’s not the excessive acting that was forcibly squeezed out, but the expression that seems to capture the rawness of nature as it is.

‘camera.’

In an instant, the camera became desperate.

How would those eyes look on the monitor through the lens, not the naked eye?

Will it look more ferocious, will it look colder, or will it look hotter.

The young man’s pupils moved up and down regularly and slowly.

It was like the gaze of a hunter scanning a prey caught in a trap.

He looked like a soldier contemplating whether to kill a captured enemy or not.

What was certain was that she wanted to see the young man’s expression in more detail.

The thought that it might have been too intense a reaction for lightly bumping into Song Jeong-woo did not exist in Song Jeong-woo’s head right now.

A scene from the script that had been stuck in my head until it was worn out naturally unfolded.

S#21.

Prosecutor: You asshole.

Soldier: (silence)

Inspector: Eyes. Where is the young private that shot and killed a comrade raise his eyes? You son of a b*tch, I will take responsibility for you and beat you to death. Waste like you should be out of jail.

Soldier: (Glaring) Those guys are deadly. They killed all innocent children and old people!

Prosecutor: The guerrillas suddenly attacked, and it was an accident that was unavoidable because of the darkness! You idiot!

Soldier: (laughing) It was a great lunch time.

Prosecutor: This bastard is talking back!

(The prosecutor strikes his forehead with a thick file folder, but the soldier looks straight at him without blinking.

Seeing that figure, the prosecutor gets a strange chill.)

PD Song Jung-woo muttered while imagining the image of a young man in a virtual camera frame.

“Will it suit you?”

Would it suit you?(2)