After a brief moment of deliberation, I made my decision.
This time, I would appear in “Restaurant, Fromage.”
Though the guarantee akin to an actor’s pride was tighter compared to other works, there were quite a few aspects I found appealing.
True, the quality of the script was inconsistent, but still, coming from a mid-career writer, it would likely result in something passable.
The two female actresses I was going to share the screen with were well-above-average talents.
Moreover, and above all, this was the kind of drama my father would enjoy.
It was set in a restaurant after all.
Though a restaurant and a chicken joint are fundamentally different, I remembered that he had been a dedicated viewer of such similar dramas in the past.
The fact that this was set to air on the terrestrial channel SBC was also an appealing factor.
“The issue remains, is it the script? Since there are already so many dramas set in restaurants, it feels a bit stale. Of course, one can’t predict everything just by reading the beginning.”
“Restaurant, Fromage” begins with a young chef, Kang Min, who specialized in French cuisine, opening a restaurant named “Fromage” with the goal of getting a Michelin Guide rating.
The early story revolves around recruiting staff via help wanted ads, but that alone made it difficult to determine the direction of the drama.
The first two episodes were solely focused on gathering the staff and opening the restaurant.
Certainly, actresses like Yoon Yeonhee and Lee Hyerin saw something positive in this drama, something that had eluded me.
“Perhaps, the problem lies in the melodramatic aspects? Good grief. The sous chef is the protagonist’s ex-wife.”
True to Writer Ok, who enjoys a bit of melodrama, this drama included melodramatic elements.
One of the inevitably employed sous chefs happened to be Kang Min’s ex-wife.
Another female lead was a junior chef to Kang Min, and this character also joined his kitchen, hinting at an inevitable catfight vibe already.
However, thinking logically, it seemed unlikely that the female lead would have a good reason to enter her ex-husband’s kitchen, and it would be natural for the male lead to refuse if his ex-wife were to offer her services as a sous chef. This was the crux of the matter.
This story development, without an explicit reason, would likely attract controversy.
Writer Ok did enjoy a little melodrama, but was not the kind of author who would produce baseless, extreme melodramatic stories.
“Now, being a chef… Cooking is not exactly… well, it shouldn’t necessarily matter. I’m pretty decent with knifework.”
Regrettably, I’m not familiar with cooking.
Though I assisted the Heavenly Demon for 30 years, there was no particular need for me to delve into cooking.
Lady Heavenly Demon could withstand a month without eating anything, being the superhuman she had become.
In my case, I could always just grab something to eat, so there was no particular need for me to learn how to cook either.
Of course, I had somewhat practiced wielding a Chinese cleaver to disguise myself as an experienced chef, but actual cooking is an entirely different matter.
The fortunate part was that the most crucial part of performing cooking on-screen was the knife work.
This aspect is what stands out the most when filmed.
In that sense, I could consider myself a fairly well-prepared actor.
There’s no problem I couldn’t handle when it comes to knife skills.
“Though I’m most adept at Chinese cleavers, that shouldn’t be an issue. If there are any weak spots, I can practice separately.”
Fortunately, the head chef of our company’s cafeteria is an expert in French cuisine, so I should sneak into the kitchen some time to practice.
“I have some interesting news.”
“Oh, Senior Yoo-a.”
While analyzing the early script given to me and dissecting the character, I noticed Heavenly Yuah slowly approaching.
I had anticipated it, of course.
Someone like Heavenly Yuah who was deeply interested in my next project wouldn’t just let it pass.
Whether or not what project I chose to be part of was supposed to remain secret, thinking it would stay that way would be unrealistic.
Certainly, considering all that, it was still quite a sharp reaction, but thinking of it as a natural occurrence gave me peace of mind.
“You’re going to be part of Writer Ok’s production.”
“Yes, that’s what I’m considering. Unless they haven’t secured the male lead yet.”
“Hmm…”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I just wondered why Mr. Siwoo chose this project.”
“There’s not really a special reason. It’s a leading role, it’s on terrestrial TV, Writer Ok usually churns out decent pieces.”
“It has romance too.”
“Ah, not bad then.”
My father wouldn’t watch dramas without romance.
“But why…?”
“I’m just being honest here. Are you choosing between the two?”
“What two?”
“The one who isn’t bad. Yoon Yeonhee? The age gap is rather large. Then perhaps the rising star of our generation, Lee Hyerin?”
“…I don’t think it’s quite like that? Are you trying to set me up here or something? We’re talking about acting, not mingling reality with fiction, right? Even if I’m inexperienced, I can tell the difference.”
“That means you don’t care who your counterpart is?”
“Well, to some extent…”
I emphasized that acting and reality were different to dissuade any strange misunderstandings, and her expression somewhat relaxed.
Could she possibly think I’m aiming for a real-life romance with Lee Hyerin or Yoon Yeonhee?
Even an intelligent woman has moments of irrationality.
However, what troubled me more was the subtle undertone in her final word.
It was as if she considered the role itself…
“Surely, you’re not considering… taking over someone’s part?”
“Why? Is there any problem? Wouldn’t it be easier to act with me than with Yoon Yeonhee?”
“…Well, but…”
This drama was as good as cast already, at least with a verbal agreement.
So, I was somewhat at ease, assuming there was no room for the two of them to interfere.
However, it seemed Heavenly Yuah’s determination was far stronger than I had anticipated.
Her resolve appeared set in stone to take the lead and snatch my co-lead role.
“Ah, come to think of it, it might be possible.”
Right, this would be impossible for just an ordinary actor.
But if there were an actor who could invest and act simultaneously, nothing would be impossible.
If Heavenly Yuah suddenly decided to invest, stepped in, and declared her intention to star as the lead, I couldn’t imagine a production company that would reject her.
On the contrary, they’d probably flail about to expand the scale.
The problem was the cost efficiency — it was abysmal, and there’d be considerable reputational damage to endure as well.
Even if it were just a verbal contract, it’s unheard of to snatch a role that’s already confirmed.
Especially for an actor on Heavenly Yuah’s level who was almost royalty, maintaining decorum was essential.
No matter how I looked at it, it didn’t seem necessary to go this far for this project.
If this were a blockbuster that Heavenly Yuah or Moon Suyeon might desire, it’d be a different story, but it wasn’t.
Which was why I had taken some comfort — until now, things have gotten messy.
“It’s not a good idea.”
“Why?”
“Because this project isn’t that big.”
“You can expand its size. I hear Suyeon is also itching to do something.”
“Oh, so Senior Yoo-a is coming in, along with Senior Suyeon?”
“Yes, if we’re revamping, we should do it thoroughly. That’s the only way to expand properly.”
They’ve lost their minds.
Heavenly Yuah and Moon Suyeon as the female leads?
Just moments ago they were glaring daggers at each other, yet on this particular point, they’re in sync.
Meaning Heavenly Yuah must have already discussed everything with Moon Suyeon.
But what’s absurd is how much they plan to invest in this typical restaurant romance.
What exactly are we dealing with here?
Between the two of them alone, the guarantees are substantial. This is nothing short of death to cost-efficiency.
Most writers would want popular actors in their productions, but throwing that kind of money into semi-melodramatic romance might just make the writer vomit.
If the show fails with such a cast, it would inevitably be the writer’s fault.
Especially when the main cast from “Gold Rush Joseon” reunites for this, it seems like the atmosphere is ripe for the writer to be blamed even if the show barely reaches a 20% rating.
“That’s quite… something.”
“Why?”
Well, why wouldn’t it be bizarre?
I was beginning to feel uneasy again as conflict around this upcoming project arose after things had calmed down.
One tried to drag me to Hollywood, another suggested filming an outrageously inappropriate film together, and now there’s this upheaval to snatch my co-lead in a drama—none of it normal.
Either I’ve lost my grip on reality, or the world is spinning madly.
No matter how I looked at it, it seemed an absurd event was unfolding.
In that case, I should put a stop to it. I have no reason to entangle romantic emotions with my acting partner while acting in a romance.
Moreover, just remembering the odd power struggle between these two at the Taebaek filming site was enough to conclude that having both in the same set with me was not advisable.
Unless they’ve both come to their senses, this situation would likely escalate to something worse than it was before at Taebaek.
That thought alone made my head ache.
But, bluntly saying so wouldn’t get through to the other party, so some form of plausible reasoning was required.
“As an actor, I think I should start getting used to different sets too. Yes, acting with Senior Yoo-a might be convenient, but it can’t be this way forever.”
“There’s some sense in that. But does it have to be this project?”
Same old logic didn’t resonate with her either.
In that case, perhaps, I need to pull out the flattery.
“And above all…”
“Yes?”
“Senior Yoo-a should consider your reputation. It wouldn’t look good for a renowned actor like you to snatch someone else’s role.”
“What kind of actor am I?”
“Hmm… an actor who performs impeccably in any role?”
“And?”
“One of Korea’s top actresses?”
“Is that all?”
“And… incredibly beautiful actress?”
“Just incredibly beautiful?”
“South Korea’s most beautiful?”
“Hmm, alright then.”
It almost felt like she was fishing for compliments, but noting the subtle lift at the corner of her mouth, it seemed my flattery was somewhat effective.
Ultimately, I seemed to have swayed her into self-restraint, convincing her not to go forward with this for her sake.
Of course, crediting her as South Korea’s most beautiful actress at the end probably boosted my appeal significantly.
“Alright. Let’s count this project out for now due to your strong request. But soon, you’ll understand what this is about.”
“Understand what?”
“There’s something…”
Then Heavenly Yuah stepped back agreeably after a moment of contemplation.
Her last statement was somewhat cryptic, but my purpose was achieved.
Why does it feel so taxing to have these conversations?
At least Moon Suyeon didn’t have the influence to completely overturn a production, which was a relief.
