In This Life I Will Die as an Actress Not a Villainess Chapter 164

“My asking price.”

I repeated the director’s words like an echo.

“Right. I’m just curious what Sena-ssi thinks.”

The other actors sat beside us, watching me with solemn expressions.

The director didn’t stop talking.

“I mean, isn’t this industry deformed? What kind of actor’s per-episode fee breaks into the tens of millions? That’s why Korean content doesn’t develop.”

I vaguely nodded along as I listened.

“Five thousand is… a lot.”

At that, the director’s eyes went round.

“Wow, Sena-ssi seems to have some self-awareness?”

“…”

“I swear, people like Jang Hyeseong and Han Suyeon throw tantrums saying seven or eight thousand per episode isn’t enough. That’s why I crushed their noses flat.”

The director had started openly name-dropping other actors.

“What are actors anyway? They’re just people who act. Technical workers just like us. Right?”

The atmosphere plummeted beyond recovery.

Watching Director So Jaehyeong cross the line from the first meeting, already drunk and clearly committed to this confrontation, I felt strangely calm inside.

My mood wasn’t even particularly bad.

I’d already been aware of the problems—that actor fees were extravagant compared to other industries, and that the wage gap between lead and supporting actors was too extreme.

But right now, this director was pointing out those problems while engaging in a power struggle with actors as a director.

It had been so long since I’d seen a crazy bastard like this that I felt like I’d been growing like a hothouse flower, different from my past life.

I’d faced countless power struggles before, but having a director openly challenge me for dominance like this was a first.

It seemed to be this person’s unique method for minimizing risk on productions where massive capital had been invested.

But at this rate, the ending was obvious without even seeing it.

“Then it seems we can communicate, Sena-ssi. About who holds the power on set, who’s in charge.”

“…”

“Sometimes there are people who mistakenly think the set is teamwork. That’s not how this business works.”

“Is that so?”

“Of course! Thoroughly! Someone at the center needs to be in charge for things to be peaceful.”

“Yes.”

“What’s a megaphone for? Clear power dynamics aren’t a bad thing, you know? If everyone just throws out their own opinions and the director acts weak, the whole thing goes sideways.”

The advice from Director Cheon Insu and Park Hoon sunbaenim echoed in my ears.

There was a reason those people had avoided this person.

I’d worked with plenty of difficult directors before.

Actually, Director Moon Wonhyeong from Flat Shoes and Director Kang Jeonghwan from Palace Flower had both been people with distinct personalities.

But those people knew respect and knew how to compromise.

Even when they occasionally got angry, their voices weren’t this loud.

Watching this director so thoroughly display his incomprehensible values, I found myself laughing without meaning to.

Seeing me laugh, the director’s expression hardened.

“What? What’s with that laugh?”

The other actors also froze and stared at the director.

“The director’s right. Actually, I’ve been feeling burdened by the five-thousand fee myself.”

“Is that so?”

The director looked at me with a suspicious expression.

Then, with already loosened, drunk eyes, he took a sip of his drink.

“And the solo lead position is incredibly burdensome. I’m not capable of that yet.”

“Mm.”

The actors all wore expressions wondering what I was about to say.

“I know my place.”

“Right! That’s how a person should be.”

“So after all, it’s better if I decline this role.”

“Huh…?”

The director lowered the glass he’d been bringing to his mouth and blinked.

“What I’m most afraid of is not being worth my fee.”

“…”

“But since the director put it that way… my thoughts are settling. Shouldn’t I not even attempt something I’m not confident about?”

“Why is the conversation going this direction…? Don’t worry about that. Actors, you see, directors pull them along.”

“No, Director. Only people with talent can even follow along. I’ve only been in the spotlight for a short time. Thank you… for the advice.”

“…???”

The director made a dumbfounded expression.

“Are you messing with me right now, or what??”

The director looked at the actors sitting around us as if seeking validation.

The actors uniformly avoided his gaze.

One or two actors barely opened their mouths to take my side.

“How could Sena-ssi be messing with you, Director? She seems genuinely serious.”

“Sena-ssi’s famous in the industry for being humble, Director.”

“…?”

The director still wore an expression showing he couldn’t grasp the situation, tilting his head.

“Anyway, Director, I won’t forget this kindness.”

Thank you so much, you bastard.

Thanks to you, my mind’s crystal clear now.

The director grabbed the soju bottle he’d been drinking from and poured it into the glass in front of me.

Then knocked back a shot himself.

Kya, refreshing.

“Director, I’ll come find you again once I’ve grown more.”

“…”

I immediately stood up.

The director and the other actors stared at me with blank faces.

A few suppressed their laughter and waved at me.

I made eye contact with them and shared a silent conversation.

Everyone… run away.

Well then, goodbye.

I bowed to the director and left the bar.

* * *

The next day, HBC conference room.

Shin Hanjun, the HBC director, the PD, and the writer sat in a serious atmosphere.

“Why the hell did you give him her number?”

Shin Hanjun openly showed his irritation at the PD.

These people had been desperately trying to hide the director’s true nature from Han Sena until filming began.

The PD, now a traitor to the team, bowed his head deeply.

“I’m sorry.”

“Ah, seriously, what are we going to do about casting?”

Writer Lee Taehyun, already stressed to the limit, also snapped.

From the moment he’d heard Director So Jaehyeong was attached, Writer Lee Taehyun had already been on edge.

He’d thought it would somehow work out, but now it had come to this.

“At this point, shouldn’t we change directors?”

Shin Hanjun said to the HBC director.

The director squeezed his eyes shut.

So Jaehyeong had been a director who’d caused similar incidents countless times within HBC.

But the fact that results always reliably followed after enduring all this stress was what tormented him most.

The director had always used results as a shield to keep using So Jaehyeong, but even that had reached its limit.

To lose Han Sena right before their eyes like this.

The higher-ups had been pressuring them to secure Han Sena at least once.

Back when Han Sena was filming <Desert Island>, HBC had even openly planted articles viewing Han Sena unfavorably for continuously rejecting HBC.

But now Han Sena’s position had completely changed.

For this project, Han Sena was absolutely essential.

This drama was the first female-lead-centered production at the largest scale among the three major public broadcasters.

The second and third casting choices couldn’t remotely match her capabilities.

Acting ability, buzz, even the action required for the project—the only actress who possessed everything.

In the director’s view, there was currently no one in Korea besides Han Sena.

“I really can’t do this without Han Sena.”

Just when the director’s head felt ready to explode.

As if things couldn’t get worse, the writer played a strong hand.

“Change the director. Otherwise, I won’t do this project.”

“……”

An unprecedented silence circled the conference room in this crisis.

The writer kicked back his chair and stood up.

* * *

The next day, a small restaurant at midday.

“To think a figure from urban legend would actually be walking around.”

Minyeong unnie listened to my story with shock.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen a crazy bastard like that.”

Minyeong unnie chewed her pasta thoughtfully.

Then suddenly asked.

“So long? There’ve been other people like that?”

Oops.

I’d accidentally spoken while thinking of my past life, so I panicked slightly and shook my head.

“No, not to that degree. There’ve always been difficult people on every set. But I’ve rarely been this taken aback.”

“Mm. I don’t understand HBC either. There are plenty of talented directors—why do they insist on such a risky card?”

That was a major question for me too.

To think they’d operate so haphazardly when they’d invested such massive capital.

It was mind-boggling.

Unnie shook her head and changed the subject.

“Oh right, QYN contacted us asking for just one meeting.”

“QYN…?”

I stopped my fork at the unexpected news.

“Yeah. Apparently they’re making a drama?”

Hearing that, I leaned back against my chair and crossed my arms with interest.

Come to think of it, around this time QYN had ventured into content production too.

QYN was a movie-specialized cable channel.

“They want to start with something short, like an eight-episode series. Funny thing is, this is also a female-lead-centered production?”

I grew increasingly intrigued.

“What’s it about?”

“Firefighters.”

Firefighters…?

It was content I’d never seen in any drama from my past life.

As I started showing more interest, unnie shook her head.

“But QYN’s a no-go. Starter projects are inherently difficult, plus they don’t have money like UBN. It’s rough there.”

“Hmm.”

“Word is their parent company won’t even invest in QYN. We’d be lucky if they don’t shoot it poorly trying to cut the budget.”

I half-listened to unnie’s words.

Because in my past life, QYN had broken through harsh conditions to achieve notable success, even if not massive.

QYN, which focused on genre productions, had even built a distinctive identity.

Had this firefighter story ultimately fallen through and never made it to the world?

I hadn’t seen the script, but it piqued my interest.

Unnie changed the subject again.

“What about the NBS project? You said that script was decent.”

Unnie asked about the project Director Cheon Insu had proposed.

I just poked at my salad.

“I’m not doing that one either.”

“Huh?”

Unnie made a surprised expression.

It was a face that had expected a different answer.

“…It’s a romcom. Well, the project’s good.”

“Bored of it?”

“No. Not bored. I want to try other genres. I don’t want my image to solidify either.”

Unnie nodded, accepting my answer despite her surprise.

“Right. No need to just think it’s a waste. There are other good projects besides those two big ones.”

“Exactly. Which is why… let me see the QYN script.”

“…?”

Unnie furrowed her brow.

“Did you hear what I just said?”

“…Yes.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“……Give me the script.”

Unnie set down her fork with a bewildered expression.