Chapter 2 : He'd fit the role, wouldn't he? (1)

Jung-woo Song, a highly capable producer in his late thirties who has successfully directed multiple dramas, was walking down the hallway with Hyun-tae Kim, the assistant director. He was on the phone with Sang-hee Kim, the drama writer.

"Kim, do we really have to stick with a private first class? Can't we just go with someone in their 30s or 40s? Maybe a sergeant or a warrant officer," Jung-woo Song suggested over the phone to Sang-hee Kim.

"No, we can't," replied Sang-hee Kim firmly.

"Why not? The case we're dealing with involves insubordination leading to murder at an overseas deployment base. It's unlikely for a mere private to commit such a crime with a firearm all the way in the Middle East."

"I know that. But there's a more pressing issue."

"Which is?"

"It's hard to draw viewer empathy. How many families of professional soldiers do you think there are among the public? On the other hand, if the character is a private, almost every family with a son can relate."

Jung-woo Song slightly softened his tone.

"But this is supposed to be a legal drama starring a lawyer, not a critique on military malpractices. Why put so much effort into a character who only appears in one episode?"

"The devil is in the details," Sang-hee Kim retorted.

"Why bring up the devil all of a sudden?"

"Because I heard you've been calling me like that behind my back."

"That's... It was because you consistently deliver impressive ratings as if you've sold your soul to the devil... in a good way."

That was a lie.

He indeed called her a devil over drinks, frustrated by her artistic stubbornness.

But admitting that was out of the question.

"And to cast someone who really looks young and naive for the role of the private, that sounds great, but can a young newbie really pull off this character?" Jung-woo Song continued.

"That's why we're holding open auditions. To find someone who looks young, has the acting chops, and doesn't cost much," Sang-hee Kim explained.

"The auditions weren't just for the role of the private. We were casting for other roles as well, but decided to include this one too."

"In a drama, every role is the lead, and each has their own story. That's always been my approach to writing scripts."

"Let's just age up the character, okay?"

"Let's talk about this later. I've got a surge of inspiration right now and need to get back to writing."

"Kim! Kim..."

The call was cut off before he could say more.

Jung-woo Song was unaware that Hyun-tae Kim muttered under his breath, "They're both looking in a mirror and fighting."

Jung-woo put away his phone with a frustrated expression, and Hyun-tae cautiously spoke up.

"Director Song, it's not going to work, is it?"

"Ah, Kim Sang-hee's stubbornness is no joke this time. It's driving me crazy. I might have a stroke before fifty."

"It's just a minor role, a barely-there supporting character. You're worrying too much..."

"Be careful, Hyun-tae!"

Hyun-tae, who was walking towards them, failed to notice the man standing in front of him. 

Jung-woo quickly grabbed his arm to stop him, but in the next moment, with a loud noise, Hyun-tae was pushed against the wall. 

It was as if the man had eyes on the back of his head, grabbing Hyun-tae by the collar and pushing him against the wall with one hand. 

Jung-woo blinked as he noticed the man's intense gaze.

"Hmm?"

***

"Wait here for a moment," Soo-ryeon Jung told her younger brother, Seo-hoon Jung, as she disappeared into the crowd inside the studio. 

The dazzling lights, the sound of metal scraping, everyday curses erupting from every corner, and people carrying large filming equipment bustling about gave Seo-hoon the impression of being on the deck of a working ship. 

This environment, reminiscent of his time as a soldier, was shattered by the sight of slender female celebrities briskly walking by.

'It's uncomfortable.'

Too many people were moving too closely around him, although none of them were enemy soldiers or spies intending harm. 

His prefrontal cortex tried to reassure him, but some brain cells, overstimulated from his time on the battlefield, kept him on high alert. 

The sound of footsteps approaching, passing by, and then receding kept him rooted in place, focusing on the sounds behind him, not by choice but due to his overexcited neurons. 

Even knowing that these were just staff members, celebrities, and officials passing by, his fingertips twitched with the urge to act. 

Constantly scanning his surroundings would ease his mind, but he resisted, knowing it would draw undue attention and seem odd to others.

'Passing by.'

'Passed by.'

'It's gone.'

Eventually, he counted 152 footsteps approaching from behind, passing by, and then moving ahead. 

He knew it wasn't normal to count each one, understanding this wasn't a battlefield but a safe country, far removed from war. 

Yet, as a soldier, he felt it was natural to be vigilant about potential hidden enemies among them.

"Director Song, it's not going to work, is it?" Hyun-tae's words echoed in the studio.

'5 meters.'

"Ah, Kim Sang-hee's stubbornness is no joke this time. It's driving me crazy. I'll have a stroke before I'm fifty at this rate."

'2 meters.'

"It's just a minor role, a barely-there supporting character. You're worrying too much..."

"Be careful, Hyun-tae!"

At that moment, when something hard and slightly sharp touched his back, Seo-hoon's restrained tension snapped, and he moved as if in real combat. 

He swatted away the 'rifle' aimed at his back, turned around, and pushed the 'rebel disguised as a civilian' against the wall, aiming the 'rifle' he had snatched away under the 'rebel's' chin...

'Ah!'

After his battle-hardened reflexes had their outburst, his rational mind kicked in too late. 

He saw the frightened face of a man in his thirties, clueless about what to do. 

Seo-hoon's eyes quickly scanned the man. 

The object against his back wasn't a rifle but a microphone boom. 

The man's protruding belly, his arms and legs devoid of muscle, his frightened face, and his labored breathing - none of these traits belonged to a soldier. 

Not even a child soldier would appear so unformidable. 

It was a misunderstanding.

***

The moment Hyun-tae Kim, the assistant director, slightly collided with the young man, the scene changed dramatically. 

Suddenly, Hyun-tae was being subdued by the young man, who was now pressing a microphone boom against his throat as if it were a gun barrel. 

Normally, one might have intervened, apologized, or even scolded for overreacting.

'Hmm?'

However, Jung-woo Song, the producer, took a step back to observe from a better vantage point, his director's instinct kicking in. 

He raised the script to his eyes, creating a frame with his hands as if viewing through a camera lens.

'Huh, what do we have here?'

The young man glared at Hyun-tae menacingly. 

It wasn't the forced expression of overacting but a raw, natural fierceness.

'Camera.'

Jung-woo suddenly wished for a camera to capture the young man's gaze through the lens. 

Would it appear more ferocious, colder, or more intense? 

The young man's eyes moved methodically, slowly scanning up and down, reminiscent of a hunter assessing his catch or a soldier deciding whether to kill a captured enemy. 

What was clear was Jung-woo's desire to see more of the young man's expression. 

The thought that such an intense reaction was too much for a minor collision never crossed Jung-woo's mind. 

A scene from the script unfolded naturally in his head.

S#21 

Prosecutor: "You idiot."

Soldier: (Silent)

Prosecutor: "Look at me. Where does a private who shot his own comrade get off looking so defiant? You, I'll make sure you're executed. Trash like you deserves to die in prison."

Soldier: (Staring back) "They deserved to die. They killed innocent children and the elderly!"

Prosecutor: "The guerrillas attacked suddenly, and it was an unavoidable accident due to the darkness! You idiot!"

Soldier: (Smirking) "It was bright midday."

Prosecutor: "How dare you talk back!"

(The prosecutor hits the soldier's forehead with a thick file, but the soldier doesn't even blink, staring straight back. The prosecutor feels an odd chill.)

Jung-woo Song murmured to himself, imagining the young man within the frame of his makeshift camera.

"He'd fit the role, wouldn't he?"