Return of the Genius PD

Lunchtime.

Kim Seung-yeon sat in the restaurant, waiting for her order to arrive.

No matter how busy she got, she always took her meals seriously.

She never ate just anything because she was busy.

To Kim Seung-yeon, ‘gastronomy(1)’ was a sacred act and one of life’s greatest pleasures.

That’s why she considered carelessly eating meals tantamount to abandoning life itself.

Kim Seung-yeon glanced at her watch.

‘The food’s taking a while.’

Lately, she’s been craving spicy food.

It was a sign she was under stress.

Her mind flashed back to times when her appetite had been similar.

-When the production of her debut work, which she’d prepared for so long, fell through.

-When the ratings of her third work, into which she’d poured her soul, had plummeted.

-When her partner of eight years announced their breakup.

Each time, Kim Seung-yeon had dealt with stress by eating spicy food.

It was like covering one fire with another.

Either way, it temporarily relieved her stress.

Though she’d made numerous trips to the hospital due to stomach problems, it didn’t matter.

Stomachaches were better than stress-induced illness.

‘I’m planning to take a break for a while anyway.’

“Paris Croissant” ended with a 17.2% rating.

While it didn’t meet expectations, it wasn’t a bad result either. Rather, it was a solid mid-level success.

Although there had been that unsavory incident with TVM, the ratings had lived up to Star Writer Kim Seung-yeon’s reputation.

‘But why am I like this these days?’

The reason she kept craving spicy food was probably…

More than “Paris Croissant,”

it was because of “Eccentric Doctor Ham In-ju.”

Grind-.

Her teeth clenched automatically at the thought of Ham In-ju.

It had been her masterpiece, prepared over a long time.

The thought that such a work had ultimately lost to a rookie writer turned Kim Seung-yeon’s stomach.

‘Calm down. There’s nothing to feel wronged about.’

Kim Seung-yeon had to admit it.

Her eye for analyzing works as a writer was genuine, after all.

“Eccentric Doctor Ham In-ju” was excellent, even from her perspective as a competitor.

Her sense of duty as a writer wouldn’t allow her to deny even that fact.

As someone who had vowed to live without shame when it came to writing…

Rather than turn away from the truth that writing conveyed, she would sooner break her pen.

Finally, her ordered malatang appeared.

The bright red broth mercilessly stimulated her salivary glands. Just as Kim Seung-yeon’s expression softened and she was about to take a spoonful…

“Oh? Writer Kim?”

She turned her head to see Director Ko Dong-guk, her longtime mentor in the industry. Kim Seung-yeon froze with her mouth open.

“…Ah, hello, Director. What brings you here?”

“What brings me here? We came for lunch too. What a coincidence! Haha!”

Of course, it wasn’t a coincidence at all.

* * *

One hour earlier, at the broadcasting station…

“Lighten up, Director. Who died? What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong with my expression?”

PD Kim Jong-su sprawled on the spacious sofa while observing Director Ko Dong-guk. With the successful wrap of “Ham In-ju,” the veteran PD had found himself with some rare free time. 

Unable to bear the boredom, he’d barged into the director’s office, as he often did when between projects.

“You look like a drenched dog, you know?”

“Watch your words. And don’t even use the word ‘dog’ in front of me. It’s forbidden for now.”

Director Ko Dong-guk said while fiddling with his titanium cup, a habit he’d developed over years of managing difficult situations.

“Hmph.” Kim Jong-su snorted and asked impatiently.

“Come on, what is it! Everything’s been going great lately. Why the long face this morning?”

At those words, Director Ko Dong-guk stared blankly into space before speaking.

“I heard from someone at TVM… Kim Seung-yeon’s contract with them was terminated.”

“Why? Wasn’t she contracted for two works?”

Director Ko Dong-guk smiled bitterly. His long relationship with Kim Seung-yeon made this situation particularly painful.

“How would I know what Director Seo at TVM is thinking…?”

He hesitated for a moment before continuing.

“I guess they were worried about paying star writer rates for her next work after losing the same time slot ratings.”

“They must have doubted Kim Seung-yeon’s ability. Worried that her best days were behind her and they’d be investing in a falling star.”

Then Kim Jong-su, who had worked with Kim Seung-yeon enough to understand her pride, extrapolated what must have happened next.

“With Kim Seung-yeon’s personality… rather than beg, she would have terminated the contract without hesitation.”

Director Ko Dong-guk’s eyebrows drooped further.

“Even though it was fair competition, still… after working together for so long… it doesn’t sit right with me that she’s being mistreated elsewhere.”

Kim Jong-su nodded toward Director Ko Dong-guk’s phone.

“Why don’t you call her?”

“She’s not answering.”

“Hmm.”

Kim Jong-su stared at Director Ko Dong-guk thoughtfully. Then, as if understanding something, he pulled out his phone and made a call, drawing on his extensive network of industry contacts.

“Oh, Writer Park. How are you? Yeah yeah, thanks for the congratulations. Actually, I was wondering if you know where Writer Kim Seung-yeon is right now? …Okay, let me know when you find out. Thanks, Writer Park.”

Director Ko Dong-guk’s eyes widened.

“What are you doing?”

“Just wait.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“I’m Kim Jong-su, the industry’s connection master.”

“More like industry detective? You think one phone call will do it?”

Kim Jong-su stood with his arms crossed, wearing a confident expression. His reputation for knowing everyone in the industry wasn’t just for show.

After a few minutes…

Whirr-.

When his phone rang, Kim Jong-su quickly checked the message. Then he grinned at Director Ko Dong-guk.

“Shall we go?”

Director Ko Dong-guk wore a dumbfounded expression.

“…Looks like you’ve found your calling – the next star of PD Notebook(2). Jong-su, you picked the wrong department. With those investigative skills, you should’ve gone into current affairs journalism instead of drama.”

Kim Jong-su, shoulders raised with excitement, grabbed Director Ko Dong-guk’s arm and said,

“Come on, let’s go!”

“What? Where are we going?”

“Instead of moping here, let’s go resolve this. Whether it ends in anger or reconciliation.”

“Things are awkward between us right now! I’m terrible with uncomfortable situations!”

* * *

Back at the restaurant…

Director Ko Dong-guk asked with a broad smile, trying to mask his nervousness,

“Running into a food connoisseur like Writer Kim at a restaurant makes me certain this must be a great place! What did you order? I’ll get the same!”

Kim Seung-yeon answered with an awkward smile,

“I’ve been craving spicy food because of stress.”

“Ahem, hem.”

Director Ko Dong-guk cleared his throat, feeling his share of responsibility for that stress.

Soon, two people appeared behind Director Ko Dong-guk. One was the familiar face of ping-pong man PD Kim Jong-su, known for bouncing between successful and failed projects, and the other…

‘What, an actor? He’s cute.’

The puppy-faced man greeted her with the earnest enthusiasm typical of rookie PDs.

“Nice to meet you, Writer-nim. I’m Do Ji-won.”

“Ah, yes. I’m Kim Seung-yeon.”

Do Ji-won?

She’d heard that name somewhere. Where was it…?

While she was lost in thought, Kim Jong-su spoke up.

“He was the assistant director for ‘Eccentric Doctor Ham In-ju.’ Our newest rising star in the drama department.”

Ah, now she remembered.

The fresh-faced PD who had pulled off what seasoned directors couldn’t – casting the reclusive Han Se-gyu.

Thinking that Ji-won had played a part in her defeat, the fire started rising again…

But seeing those innocent eyes looking at her up close, her anger quickly subsided.

Director Ko Dong-guk carefully asked,

“Writer Kim, this is another amazing coincidence… would it be okay if we joined you?”

“…Sure, go ahead.”

Soon after Ji-won’s group ordered their food, silence fell over the table.

Kim Seung-yeon narrowed her eyes at Kim Jong-su.

“PD Kim Jong-su, you finally broke your jinx. Must feel relieved.”

Her tone had a sharp edge to it. Everyone at the table tensed, remembering the infamous incident from their last collaboration, when Kim Jong-su’s notorious “first episode curse” had led to a catering disaster involving imported escargot.

Kim Jong-su responded with bulging eyes.

“Haha, I thought I was going to fail again because of you, Writer Kim.”

“What a shame. I rather liked that jinx. It was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Thanks to you, I enjoyed the snail dish. I’ve been craving pig’s feet ever since.”

“Oh my! I should have just wrapped up some pig’s feet for you. Since you can’t tell the difference anyway.”

“They’re both excellent sources of protein. Hey! Do they serve pig’s feet here? If not, snails would do!”

Director Ko Dong-guk, startled by the escalating tension, pulled on Kim Jong-su’s clothes. Ji-won, still new to the complex dynamics between these industry veterans, felt suffocated by the knife-sharp exchange disguised as conversation.

Feeling this couldn’t go on, he carefully spoke up, drawing from his genuine admiration for her work.

“Writer-nim, your third work, ‘More Beautiful Than Flowers.’ My father really loved it. Me too.”

Kim Seung-yeon’s eyes sparked at Ji-won’s words.

“That one flopped though?”

“Ratings aren’t everything. I think it’s your most human work.”

“You watched it?”

“I watched it with my father. It made me want to create something like that someday.”

Kim Seung-yeon fell into contemplation at those words.

‘More Beautiful Than Flowers’ had been her third work.

The first time she had fully poured out the story she’d kept inside.

‘A show that flopped more than fifteen years ago… he watched that?’

Though the ratings weren’t good, it was a work that held special meaning for her.

And now this young PD was mentioning it, speaking with such sincerity about a work from before his time.

Perhaps reading Kim Seung-yeon’s skepticism, Ji-won added,

“I mean it. Someday, I’d really love to work on one of your pieces.”

Ji-won’s words instantly changed the atmosphere. His genuine appreciation cut through the tension like a warm knife through butter.

“…Well, thank you.”

Kim Seung-yeon answered awkwardly. Director Ko Dong-guk also wore a faint smile.

There are no permanent allies or enemies in this industry.

It was touching to see Ji-won already understanding something that had taken him over a decade to learn.

Director Ko Dong-guk carefully began,

“Writer Kim, about the contest…”

Kim Seung-yeon raised her hand to cut him off.

“You don’t need to say it. I cleanly admit it. ‘Eccentric Doctor Ham In-ju.’ It was really good. Good enough to make me jealous at my age.”

Then she gave Director Ko Dong-guk her first genuine smile in a while.

“20% ratings. Congratulations, Director. I mean it.”

Director Ko Dong-guk smiled brightly. More because of Kim Seung-yeon than Ham In-ju.

“Paris Croissant lived up to its name too! Ratings in this industry are unpredictable. Heh heh, we just got lucky this time.”

Director Ko Dong-guk gave a warm smile.

“You worked really hard too, Writer Kim.”

Kim Seung-yeon let out a “Whew.”

“Thank you. Now that it’s turned out this way, I actually feel relieved.”

“Writer Kim! When your next work comes out, contact me first. I want to be the first to read it.”

Kim Seung-yeon burst out laughing at those words.

“Director, you’re still as shameless as ever.”

She winked slightly.

“Hearing that shamelessness again… I think I kind of missed it.”

Kim Jong-su also grinned and said,

“Writer-nim, work with me next time too!”

Kim Seung-yeon answered comfortably,

“I’m curious too. What kind of synergy we’d create, PD Kim Jong-su.”

As Kim Seung-yeon gathered her coat, Director Ko Dong-guk stopped her.

“Writer Kim, there’s still a lot of food left. Won’t you stay longer? Should we move?”

“Ah, don’t misunderstand, Director.”

Kim Seung-yeon stared at the remaining malatang, the once-tempting spiciness now seeming less necessary.

“Now that I’m eating it, I’m not craving it as much? I wonder how I used to eat all this before…”

Kim Seung-yeon added with a smile,

“I’m not leaving because I’m uncomfortable, so please enjoy your meal.”

Then she bowed to Director Ko Dong-guk.

“See you next time, Director. PD Kim Jong-su and PD Ji-won too.”

* * *

After Kim Seung-yeon left with light steps, Kim Jong-su asked Ji-won with wide eyes,

“You, you liked Writer Kim?”

Ji-won answered as if it were obvious,

“How many masterpiece dramas has Writer Kim Seung-yeon created? Of course I do.”

Kim Jong-su laughed along at those words.

“That’s true, me too. Haha.”

Director Ko Dong-guk, watching the two of them, also wore a warm smile.

While they say there are no permanent allies or enemies in this industry…

It’s not just about business interests. 

After all, a broadcasting station is still a place where people live.

At least, that’s what Director Ko Dong-guk thought.

T/N:

(1) Gastronomy: the art and science of good eating; the study of food and culture.

(2) PD Notebook: a long-running Korean investigative journalism program known for its exposés and in-depth reporting.