NOVEL NEXT Episode 28
“It’s a hit! 17%! We’ve surpassed
The ratings for episode 10 of
The impact of the ratings can be seen in Director Ko Dong-guk’s steps as he arrives at the filming set recently.
Director Ko Dong-guk was running over with excited steps. He stopped abruptly in front of PD Kim Jong-su and Ji-won, narrowing his eyes.
“…Are you sleeping while you work?”
In contrast to the rising ratings curve, the dark circles under the two PDs’ eyes were tracing a downward trajectory day by day.
The darkness under their eyes made it clear they were dedicating themselves to production, even cutting back on sleep.
‘…Well, where would they find the time?’
Filming that stretches from dawn to dusk every day. And then the endless editing schedule that follows. It’s due to the drama production environment where two episodes air each week. Now that they’re in the latter half of filming, both must be pushing themselves to their physical limits.
PD Kim Jong-su responded gruffly.
“We don’t even have time to exercise, let alone sleep.”
The priorities seemed somewhat skewed, but that wasn’t the important thing right now, so he decided to let it slide. Director Ko Dong-guk looked at them with sympathetic eyes.
“Should I get you some herbal medicine?”
Ji-won, looking pale, approached and called out to Director Ko Dong-guk.
“Director.”
“Yes?”
“The time has come.”
Ji-won’s sunken eyes flashed.
“It means we no longer need to ‘lie in wait’.”
A meaningful smile spread across his lips.
“I think it’s time to contact Writer Kim Seung-yeon.”
Director Ko Dong-guk put on a serious face.
“Hey now! How can we contact her just because we’ve overtaken the ratings?”
Then he folded his arms and turned his head.
“I, Ko Dong-guk, am not the type to hold grudges over upsetting matters.”
“It seems the emphasis is on ‘hold’, though?”
Kim Jong-su PD, who had chimed in, immediately grinned.
“Lower your mouth corners when you speak. Your cheekbones are about to burst.”
“I’ve always had a smiley face.”
At Ko Dong-guk’s nonchalance, smiles spread across Jong-su PD and Ji-won’s faces too. Ji-won then added:
“She won’t reply anyway. But still…”
He nodded his head and said:
“She’s not blind, so seeing the message might sting a little, right?”
The corners of Ko Dong-guk’s mouth twitched subtly. Soon after, Director Ko Dong-guk left the scene with a jolly demeanor.
Ji-won recalled the ratings for
.
.
.
Thud-.
“What is this?”
Director Shin Young-jin answered indifferently.
“It’s a template for predicted ratings reports.”
He then added:
“You have the master file for our drama airing next week, right? Just watch that and fill it out.”
After examining the document, Ji-won replied:
“…The ratings fields are broken down by minute?”
“It’s a minute-by-minute ratings report. Just fill in all the blanks.”
“What?”
“We’ll do this every week until you pass.”
Predicting minute-by-minute ratings after watching the drama in advance? Is this even reasonable? If this were possible, wouldn’t it be faster to lay out a mat and start fortune-telling?
Ji-won’s face turned pale at the absurd request. Director Shin Young-jin elaborated:
“The passing grade is within ±0.5 of the actual ratings. If everything falls within that margin of error, you’re free to leave.”
Then, after staring at Ji-won for a long while, he spoke again:
“Ah, the failing grade is a margin of error of ±3. If you’re wrong more than three times… you’re also free to leave.”
“…Both scenarios end with leaving?”
“I’ll consider us incompatible and let you go. Find some place in the countryside with good air and water, and do whatever you want.”
Suddenly threatening to send Ji-won to a rural post? For getting predicted ratings wrong? No matter how influential he is, is this within a director’s authority?
Unable to believe it, Ji-won asked again:
“You’re joking, right?”
“Do you think I can’t do it?”
Director Shin Young-jin’s cold gaze pierced through Ji-won from behind his glasses. Only after meeting that gaze did Ji-won realize:
‘…He’s crazy, he must be crazy.’
That he wasn’t the type of person to joke around.
Gulp-.
With trembling hands, he accepted the template. He couldn’t be discarded here, not after coming this far.
The average length of a prime-time drama is about 70 minutes. Two episodes per week. He had to survive 140 ratings tests each week.
‘…Three strikes and I’m out.’
Survival. Surviving Director Shin Young-jin became the ultimate goal.
From that day on, he had to be obsessed with ratings analysis to survive. After work hours ended, he devoted himself to ratings analysis until dawn every week. There wasn’t a single day when he slept more than 4 hours.
That went on for 3 years.
It took a full 3 years before he could finally get a passing grade. And when Director Shin Young-jin confirmed it…
“Oh? This actually works? Well done. You don’t need to submit reports anymore.”
“…Pardon?”
That’s when he realized.
That he had been chosen as Director Shin Young-jin’s interesting ‘test subject’. And. That he had only passed the first hurdle.
.
.
.
His back was damp from the sudden memory of the past.
‘Wow… I don’t think I could do that again if asked.’
He shook his head a few times to shake off the fragments of his past life.
That’s why he could confidently say:
That in the past, future, or anywhere in this world, there would be no one who could predict ratings better than him.
The predicted ratings for next week’s
-17.4%
With an expected error range of about ±0.4.
It was certainly a lower figure compared to the rising trend of nearly 1% each week.
‘The crazy upward trend stops here. The momentum for increase will inevitably drop from next week.’
The basis for this prediction was the emergence of a new competitor.
It’s because of SBC’s 60th anniversary special project
Ji-won’s pen paused briefly as he analyzed the ratings. Although his sense for ratings was honed through unconventional training, it wasn’t omnipotent. He could predict almost perfectly only up to a week ahead.
‘There are too many variables.’
Beyond that, the accuracy inevitably decreases. By 3 weeks later, the margin of error widens to over 1.5%. Ji-won’s prediction for the final episode, the 16th episode of
-19.2%
From here on, it’s in the realm of prayer.
‘The only hope left is that the margin of error works in our favor.’
Depending on that result, the day after the final episode, whether Ji-won would pass through the lobby as a person… Or as a dog would be decided.
Still, if possible. He wanted to see the Director in the lobby.
While Ji-won was praying earnestly, imagining Director Ko Dong-guk standing in the lobby…
“Hmm…”
Director Ko Dong-guk, seated in his car, was thinking of someone else. Soon, he picked up his phone and sent a message with a solemn look.
* * *
『 Writer Kim. How have you been? I can’t shake off the meal you treated me to last time… Shall we have dinner together? 』
Bang-.
Kim Seung-yeon threw her phone violently. She then let out a sharp scream.
“Aaaargh-!”
She picked up the phone again and nervously dialed someone. As soon as the other person answered, she spoke:
“Hello? Director, are you really going to do this?”
A thick voice came through the phone.
“…What are you suddenly talking about?”
“The ratings momentum for
“Writer Kim, 16% is still a good rating.”
“Is this all the power TVM has? Shouldn’t you be coming up with some kind of strategy!”
After a moment of silence…
“Writer Kim.”
“Yes, speak.”
“Looking at you like this, you seem to lack manners.”
Kim Seung-yeon’s shaking shoulders suddenly froze.
“…What did you say?”
“Is this something to confront the director about? Strictly speaking, isn’t it your work that’s falling behind?”
“Director!”
“We’re the ones in trouble now. After all that promotion, are we going to end up overtaken by JTVN? And by an unknown rookie writer and the inconsistent Kim Jong-su at that?”
“Ah, no…”
“We spent a lot of money to bring you in, Writer Kim, and I’m a bit disappointed.”
Kim Seung-yeon’s eyes kept shaking.
“Has your form dropped, or did I misjudge you? …I’d appreciate it if you could be more mindful of such disrespectful behavior in the future. I’m hanging up now.”
Click-.
Kim Seung-yeon, who had ended the call, shook uncontrollably like a patient with liver disease.
“What is this…”
As if being upset to death wasn’t enough, now even the director, who should be on her side, was reproaching her. Since rising to the ranks of star writers, this was the first time she had experienced such treatment. Kim Seung-yeon was dumbfounded at this unbelievable discourtesy.
Come to think of it…
She had always received only encouragement from Director Ko Dong-guk, never a harsh word.
“…”
Kim Seung-yeon remained silent for a while as this fact dawned on her.
* * *
A coffee truck glided into the filming set. Soon, as the door opened, the owner of the truck was revealed.
[Loving Lee Ji-yu is too EASY.]
[There’s no escape from Lee Ji-yu’s charm. The fan club ‘Jiyuist’ supports the
When a gift arrives, a brief rest period is guaranteed. Thanks to this, staff members who caught their breath each said a word to Lee Ji-yu.
“We’ll enjoy it, Ji-yu.”
“Ah, yes. Thank you.”
“Wow, the fans are so devoted. Thanks to you, we get a short break.”
“Ah, I’m always grateful.”
Lee Ji-yu has been overwhelmed lately. She’s realizing her newfound popularity.
This was already the third gift.
The first was a food truck. The second was a snack truck. This time, a coffee truck.
New fans have been increasing exponentially day by day recently. And. The old fans who have stood by her side for a long time. The two groups were joining forces to give substantial support to the filming set. Originally. The fan cafe was close to being a ghost town. But that cafe…
She had to hold back tears more than once or twice while reading the supportive posts that were coming in real-time.
Just…
It was something she couldn’t have imagined even a year ago.
Lee Ji-yu pinched her cheek hard.
‘Ouch, it can’t be a dream…’
Lee Ji-yu is physically experiencing how one work can turn her life around like this. And. She felt that perhaps she was in the process of her life changing right now.
Lee Ji-yu struggled to hold back her blurring vision.
She was grateful to Writer Kyukyu and PD Kim Jong-su who had reached out to her with this precious work. These days, she was simply grateful for each day.
And.
Lee Ji-yu looked at the puppy-eyed young man who was distributing coffee to the staff on set.
‘PD Do Ji-won.’
The person who always provided answers whenever she got stuck with her acting. And those answers surprisingly unblocked Ji-yu’s stumbling points.
Lee Ji-yu shifted her gaze to the script. Messy handwriting filled Kim Da-yeon’s parts densely.
“…”
Suddenly, she realized that she had only been receiving, never properly expressing her feelings. This time, she decided to take courage and make the first move. Having made up her mind, Lee Ji-yu ran over with small steps and called out to him.
“PD Ji-won.”
“Yes?”
Ji-won turned his head at her sudden call. Then Lee Ji-yu opened her mouth.
“For always replying to my (acting guidance) messages late into the night… I’m always grateful. Really.”
A staff member next to them dropped their coffee cup, soaking their pants.
“Ack! Hot hot!”
The staff member gestured to Lee Ji-yu, who was looking on with surprised eyes, that they were okay. Lee Ji-yu looked back at Ji-won.
“Someday… I’ll work hard to be in a position where I can repay you. I, I will really really try my best!”
Then she bowed her head sincerely to Ji-won. Having said what she wanted to say, Lee Ji-yu returned to her seat with quick steps.
After dropping a bomb.
A warm smile spread across Ji-won’s face. Because her feelings had been conveyed completely. Despite having lived quite a while in the malicious entertainment industry, Lee Ji-yu was a person whose sincerity was easily visible.
However…
‘No, how can you just throw that out there without any context and disappear!’
At times like this, it was hard to tell if she was pure or just dense.
Ji-won glanced around briefly and quickly averted his eyes. The gazes of the staff members glaring at him were not ordinary. They seemed to be saying:
-Late at night?
-Personal contact with ‘goddess Lee Ji-yu’?
-And every day at that?
.
.
.
-Explain yourself.
Ji-won gently closed his eyes. It was to prepare for the storm that was about to come.