Superstar From Age 0 C.535:

Translator: MarcTempest

Editor: AgRoseCrystal

Chapter 535

“Ugh…”

Seo-jun, who had been sitting upright on the sofa and reading the script, gradually slumped down. Before he knew it, he was lying on the table, looking at the script sideways.

[Unknown Painter]

It was the script of a college student that Seo-jun had read in the car three days ago.

Da Ho, who had stopped by Seo-jun’s practice room, looked at him with a puzzled expression.

He was holding a script as usual, but he looked troubled for a long time. Wasn’t Seo-jun the one who always decided whether to accept or reject a role without hesitation? He had never seen him ponder over a script for so long.

‘Except for Shadowman 2.’

But that was before Da Ho became Seo-jun’s manager, and he had only heard stories about it. Besides, that was not a problem with the script, but with the acting.

“Seo-jun, what’s wrong?”

It had been three days already.

He seemed to like the script, since he kept holding it. Then he should just say yes, but it was strange.

At Da Ho’s question, Seo-jun, who had been flipping through the script with his right cheek pressed against the table, sighed.

“Well, Da Ho hyung. I like the script, but… I don’t like it…”

He sounded drained, and his right cheek was slightly squished and weak, but Da Ho understood him and blinked.

“You like it, but… you don’t?”

“Yes.”

Seo-jun had mixed feelings.

He liked the overall plot. He also liked the scenes in between, enough to want to act them out.

‘But the rest of it, I don’t like…’

He kept thinking about it and marked the parts he liked in blue, and the parts he didn’t like in red.

He was still lying on the table and turned the pages of the script. The blue and red pen marks were mixed like a beautiful swirl.

Da Ho spoke to Seo-jun, who looked serious.

“Let me see the script, Seo-jun.”

“Okay-”

Seo-jun handed over the script to Da Ho with a listless look. Da Ho clicked his tongue as he looked at the colorful script. There were many question marks in the scenes marked with red pen.

-Why did they put this in?

-Do they really need this character?

-Doesn’t something seem missing here?

“I don’t expect to like every scene either.”

There were times when he had to put more effort, and times when he had to relax.

Unless Seo-jun was making his own work, he couldn’t like every scene.

“But this is a bit too much.”

Da Ho smiled bitterly at Seo-jun’s words.

“But you still don’t want to give up, right?”

“Haah. That’s the problem. It’s like a fierce 5:5 battle. Ugh…”

Seo-jun banged his forehead on the table.

“What do you think is the problem, Da Ho hyung?”

“The problem is that the director who wrote the script is a college student.”

“Haah. I guess so.”

It was inevitable that a student’s work would have many flaws. Da Ho recalled.

“Come to think of it, is this the first time Seo-jun is in a student’s work?”

“Yes, you’re right.”

Seo-jun had written his graduation project himself when he was in middle and high school. It was a student work, but he was satisfied with it.

“Hmm. Unless you adapt it, I think you have to consider this.”

“Adaptation… I thought about it, but it’s an independent film. I don’t want to interfere too much.”

It would be different if it was a commercial film.

Seo-jun got up and leaned his body on the sofa backrest.

“I think it would be a better work if I let it sit for a while and revise it after the director gains more experience… But I’m worried that he might shoot it soon.”

“Are you reluctant to give this role to another actor?”

This question hit the mark, and the balance tipped to 6:4.

“…Yes, I guess so.”

Seo-jun nodded his head with a sigh after thinking for a moment.

“I feel like I’m sorting things out when I talk to you, hyung.”

He looked more relaxed.

“I’ll do it. This work. I want to do it.”

“Without adaptation?”

“Yes. Well, it’s an independent film, so I have to take that into account. Even if it’s not adaptation, the director might change something on the spot after watching the acting.”

It wouldn’t be a dramatic change like [Survivors].

He felt better after making the decision.

Seo-jun focused on the script, shaking off his worries.

Maybe the director had some intention that he didn’t see, he thought, and decided to think in various ways, such as the protagonist having a mental illness or the background being a dream.

Ahn Da Ho, who smiled softly at him, quietly left the practice room to contact the director.

***

Four days later.

The managers who watched the acting videos of the actors who would join Cocoa Entertainment stayed in the archive room ever since.

Their routine was to read and sort the scripts in the morning, have lunch, and analyze the actors who acted to choose the next work.

Today, too, the eight managers were resting their eyes for a while, drinking coffee after lunch. They looked familiar, even though it had been only a week.

“Did you all find the scripts that suit the actors?”

The managers, who had become close, chatted comfortably.

“No. I didn’t know there could be so many stories made by people. I have some scripts that I thought suited them, but when I read something else, it seems more suitable, so I just end up worrying.”

Some of the managers nodded at that.

“I was surprised by how many similar stories there were… Now I feel like I can tell what kind of story will come out just by looking at the beginning.”

“That’s a cliché. And that sells well.”

“I thought all the scripts that came in for Seo-jun were great, but some of them seemed poorly written.”

“I think he put everything he received in the archive.”

So this was an opportunity to clean it up.

“By the way, isn’t the move to the new building the day after tomorrow?”

“Yeah. The other places were packing up.”

The Cocoa Entertainment offices other than the archive room were packing up one by one. Tomorrow, the scripts in the archive room would also be put in boxes. Of course, it was the job of the managers here.

“When do we have to choose the scripts?”

“The first week of September. We have ten days left after we move.”

The managers would not be able to leave the archive room for ten days even after they went to the new building.

“Ten days… I don’t know if that’s a lot or not.”

Everyone nodded at Choi Tae-woo’s words.

“By the way, did you choose your next work for Seo-jun?”

“Ah, that was also very hard. I saw some good child roles for him, but I don’t know why he didn’t pick them.”

“Besides, all the scripts here have been rejected once, so I wonder if there is any script that Seo-jun would like.”

They all nodded again at that.

“So I’m trying to choose the genre I want to see.”

“Me too. That’s why I already picked one.”

“What is it?”

“A zombie movie. I want to see something like Escape again.”

Choi Tae-woo and the managers nodded, thinking that was a good idea.

“But have you seen any Hollywood works? I’ve seen a lot of articles saying that Hollywood sent scripts to Seo-jun, but I’ve never seen them in the archive.”

“I looked for them too, but they weren’t there.”

“I can’t read them even if they are, because I don’t know English.” freёwebnoѵel.com

They all laughed at that.

“When I asked about it, they said they were keeping it separately.”

“It’s an American movie. It would be a big deal if it leaked.”

“Right. If the scripts of series like Shadowman or works like Survivors leaked…”

They didn’t need to see it.

The country of lawsuits, America. Some managers shivered as they imagined the flood of complaints.

They chatted about this and that until lunchtime was over. The managers moved back to the archive.

***

The managers’ expressions became serious as they sat down at the table. Some of them started reading one of the scripts they had piled up in the morning, and some of them headed to the bookshelf to get new ones.

Choi Tae-woo sat down and opened one of the scripts he had brought in the morning.

‘…This one.’

He slowly straightened his body as he was reading comfortably. He took out his phone and earphones and played the video he had received from Ahn Da Ho. It was a video of Bae Seung-won, the third actor of Cocoa Entertainment, who had been living in obscurity for 10 years.

Choi Tae-woo’s eyes moved busily between the video and the script. He took out a notebook and read what he had written down while analyzing Bae Seung-won’s acting.

‘It seems good?’

This script would hardly be made into a movie, but it seemed to suit Bae Seung-won well if it had a similar plot or a similar character.

He found one work that he wanted to recommend to Bae Seung-won and smiled satisfactorily. He picked up the next script.

‘Huh?’

It was a bit different from the scripts and synopses he had seen so far.

Not in a good way, but in a bad way.

‘It’s a bit…no, a lot sloppy?’

The background descriptions of the characters written at the beginning were poor. The dialogue was choppy, and there were many places where the directions that told the actor how to speak and act were omitted. Some scenes were overly explained.

Choi Tae-woo, who had raised his standards after reading scripts for a week, saw many flaws.

But the plot was interesting. He read it to the end in no time, even though he was going to put it down after a few pages.

‘Huh? It ends here?’

But that wasn’t the end of the story.

‘Why is the ending like this?’

He wondered if the printing had stopped, or if the script had ended where the protagonist’s dialogue should have continued. Choi Tae-woo scratched his cheek. It didn’t seem like a mistake by Team 2, so this must have been the end.

‘It’s sloppy, but it’s fun.’

There was something in the story of the two protagonists that touched his heart.

‘This would suit Seo-jun well…’

That’s why, like when he saw Bae Seung-won earlier, he automatically imagined Seo-jun in the role of one of the two protagonists. He thought Seo-jun would act it out splendidly.

‘But it won’t work.’

The script was sloppy and incomplete.

It seemed like the writer was still a student in training.

It might not be a hit, and it looked too lacking to be part of Seo-jun’s filmography.

‘Of course, I’m only recommending the genre and the character…’

But he felt like he would be fired in a week if he recommended an unfinished script.

Choi Tae-woo put the script aside with a regretful look.

As the managers were looking for scripts, there was a knock and the door opened.

It was Ahn Da Ho, the team leader.

The managers jumped up in surprise, and Ahn Da Ho said with a smile.

“Please make yourselves comfortable. I came to tell you something.”

“Oh, yes!”

The managers gathered around the table, and Ahn Da Ho told them what they already knew: that they had to pack up the archive tomorrow because they were moving to the new office the day after.

“Team 2 will come and help, so don’t worry. And this.”

Ahn Da Ho put the script he was holding on the table.

[The Unknown Painter]

The managers tilted their heads, and Ahn Da Ho said with a smile.

“This is the script that Seo-jun chose for his next work.”

“…Wow…”

With a faint exclamation, the managers’ eyes turned to the script on the table.

The ordinary script suddenly looked different. It seemed to shine.

Was it written by a famous director?

The managers looked at the director’s name on the cover.

[Director: Oh Seong-tae]

I don’t know him well, but he must be a promising director, Choi Tae-woo thought when he heard Ahn Da Ho’s voice.

“To put it simply, this script is written by a college student director.”

…A college student director?

“It’s still under discussion with the director, but it might be an indie film.”

…An indie film?

…For Seo-jun?

The managers looked at Ahn Da Ho with a blank expression.

Ahn Da Ho smiled faintly. He remembered the old days. He had the same expression as when he looked at Seo-jun, who wanted to do a children’s play.

Ahn Da Ho told the managers what Seo-jun had said then. It would have been a lot of help for the managers to choose a work that suited Seo-jun.

“Seo-jun… Seo-jun chooses the work he wants to do, not the one that will be a hit. Plays, movies, indie films, shorts, one-act plays… He doesn’t care about the box office or the filmography, he chooses the most fun work.”

At Ahn Da Ho’s words, the four managers who had been in charge of actors at their previous company were so surprised that they unconsciously opened their mouths.

What? An actor who doesn’t care about his filmography?

It’s a world where your value and name fluctuate with one hit or one flop.

Of course, Seo-jun was already at the top, so he wouldn’t be in trouble with one or two failures, but if it continued, he would be called ‘washed-up’.

Unlike the managers who were full of surprise and worry, the manager of Seo-jun, who should have been the most worried, was smiling as if it was nothing.

“So please don’t limit yourself to the box office when you choose Seo-jun’s next work. Oh, it’s his next next work. Anyway, Seo-jun has the skills to pull off any movie.”

The managers nodded with uneasy faces at Ahn Da Ho’s pride in his actor. Choi Tae-woo, who was nodding along, looked at the script on one side of the table.

‘I wonder if I can recommend that…’

He said not to limit himself, so maybe an unfinished script would be okay?

As Choi Tae-woo was pondering, Ahn Da Ho finished his speech and left the archive. The managers reached for the script and shouted rock-paper-scissors over their overlapping hands.

“Rock-paper-scissors!”

At the same time.

Korea National University of Arts.

Film major, senior year, Oh Seong-tae was leading a crowd of seniors, juniors, sophomores, and even students from other majors.

“Seong-tae! Do you need any staff? I don’t mind where!”

“Senior! I’ll do it too!”

There was so much noise everywhere, but Oh Seong-tae looked rather amused.

Then, a fierce scream was heard.

“Hey, you bastard!”

The younger sister of Hwang Do-yoon, the student council president of the acting department,

“You stole my script!?”

It was Hwang Ji-yoon, a junior in the film department.