A video of Kang Woojin appearing on Ame Talk Show! was playing on the old director's phone. In the video, Woojin stood close to the audience, continuously communicating with a child using sign language. The man, who looked to be in his late forties, couldn't hide his flustered expression as he watched.
"Ah—Kang Woojin. You mean Kang Woojin?"
At the repeated question, the seasoned director took back the phone. His wrinkled face remained blunt and unreadable.
"Yes, Kang Woojin. A rookie actor who has stood out in less than a year since his debut."
"..."
"What? Did I see it wrong?"
"No. It's Kang Woojin."
The sweating man stood in stark contrast to the calm director. If anything, the older man felt cold. Though aged, his voice remained firm.
"Where is Kang Woojin right now? He's popular these days, so you should know."
"He's probably in Vietnam. I heard he went there for overseas filming of The Island of the Missing."
It was Director Kwon's project.
The seasoned director slowly nodded, while the man in his forties simply lowered his head. A brief silence followed, and it was the older director who broke it.
"Did you think I wouldn't know Kang Woojin? He's been making waves recently for Japanese sign language."
"Di—Director, that…"
"You didn't know? That wouldn't make sense. He's one of the most promising newcomers in Chungmuro right now."
It sounded less like a question and more like an interrogation—why had an actor skilled in sign language not been mentioned earlier?
At last, the man let out a deep sigh, his voice trembling slightly as he confessed.
"Honestly… yes, I knew. But I only mentioned him briefly during discussions and excluded him right away. As you know, Kang Woojin hasn't even been in the industry for a full year. His skills are proven through his work, but he lacks experience."
"I see."
"I'm sorry. I was worried. Director, this is your 100th project. Considering its weight, I thought it might be too much for a rookie like him."
"So you think we need an experienced actor?"
"Yes, Director."
The man had no ill intent, so the veteran director did not raise his voice. Even so, the atmosphere gradually turned cold.
"Experience. Yes, experience is important. But isn't that a biased way of looking at things? You shouldn't focus on just one tree—you need to see the whole forest."
"…What?"
"If Kang Woojin were a reckless actor, would Director Kwon or Japan's Director Kyotaro have cast him?"
"..."
"Even though he's a rookie, he's been entrusted with leading roles and risk. Doesn't that suggest there's something beyond his lack of experience? Am I wrong?"
The man pressed his lips shut as if weighed down by something heavy. His reasoning wasn't entirely wrong, but continuing to argue would only make things worse.
The reason was simple.
The seasoned director—
no, Director Ahn Gabok—
was a legend.
[Film Talk: The living legend of Korean cinema, Director Ahn Gabok—will he begin his 100th project?]
Calling him a living legend was not an exaggeration. It was fact. Even master director Kwon Gitaek was considered a junior compared to him. Ahn Gabok was more than just a great director—he was a symbol of the industry itself. Ranking him was meaningless. His existence alone represented Korean film history.
His filmography proved it.
This was his ninety-ninth project, and now he was preparing his hundredth. Internationally, he was deeply respected.
At a major global film festival decades ago, he became the first Korean director to win an award. Since then, he had continued to receive recognition at numerous prestigious festivals.
This 100th project carried immense significance—for him, and for Korean cinema as a whole.
Considering all that, the concerns of the man in his forties were not without reason.
"I'm sorry, Director. I think I got ahead of myself. I was only thinking about the quality of the project."
"Take it slow. If you think too deeply, even simple things can go wrong. Whether it's the ninety-ninth or the hundredth, the mindset should be the same."
"Yes, Director."
In any case, one thing was certain.
The legendary director had taken an interest in Kang Woojin.
The reason and conditions remained unclear.
Ahn Gabok, his deeply wrinkled face unmoving, stood from the sofa and gave a short instruction.
"Bring me everything related to Kang Woojin."
"Yes, yes. Ah—should we contact Kang Woojin's side?"
"…Hmm. Yes, we should. But before that."
He stroked his chin as he murmured.
"There's something I need to ask Director Kwon first."
──────────
The next day, October 18.
Inside writer Park Eunmi's studio.
Around lunchtime, the room was quiet. Her drama Profiler Hanryang was still maintaining high rankings and performing well in Japan, but she herself had nothing urgent to handle. Her assistant writers were on break, and she was taking time to rest.
But she wasn't alone.
In front of her desk sat Choi Nana, slender and visibly tense as she tried to suppress her anxiety. She had already stepped out of Park Eunmi's circle and become independent.
Even so—
Park Eunmi, her long permed hair tied back, looked down at the thick stack of papers in front of Nana and flipped through them slowly before speaking.
"...Nana. When did you start writing this?"
Startled, Nana answered hesitantly.
"Right after Boy Friend ended. I started immediately."
"Immediately?"
"Yes."
"You must've been busy."
"It was just a draft at first. I revised it while reviewing."
Nana lowered her head deeply.
"I'm really sorry. It's strange, isn't it?"
The stack of papers was Nana's script. It seemed she had started it as soon as Boy Friend was confirmed, based on an earlier draft.
Park Eunmi examined it again with a serious expression.
"...Is this another short piece?"
"No. I wrote it as a full series."
"How many episodes?"
"Twelve or sixteen."
"I see."
"Yes, but it probably needs more work, right? I'll refine it… or maybe I should write something else…"
Nana's confidence began to falter.
At that moment, Park Eunmi closed the script and smiled.
"What are you talking about? This is really interesting."
"…Really?"
"It is. The main character is appealing. Very charming."
"The action feels fresh, and it deals honestly with emerging social issues while still being satisfying."
"If it's done well, it could even become a seasonal series."
"A seasonal series?"
"Yes."
She pointed toward a nearby laptop.
"There's no shortage of material. If you dig into current events, you'll find plenty."
"How much research have you done?"
"Up to episode four."
"That's enough. More than enough to start planning."
"Already?"
Park Eunmi smiled.
"You've already entered the Japanese market as a debut writer."
"That's only because the actors were good."
"Still. Did you show this to anyone else?"
"No. Just you."
"Do you have a production company in mind?"
"I don't…"
Park Eunmi picked up her phone.
"Then a director should see this. Is it okay if I show it to someone?"
"Yes, but… who?"
"Who else? That former police chief who's out of a job these days."
A bearded man came to Nana's mind.
──────────
Later that afternoon.
Incheon Airport's arrival hall fell into chaos in an instant. It was caused by the sudden appearance of a single actor.
Even after he had already left, people who had seen him just minutes earlier were still talking about it everywhere.
"Wow, did you see him? Kang Woojin's physique is insane."
"Right? And he's seriously handsome. Didn't it feel like his eyes pulled you in?"
"I agree. Actors really do have a different aura. I'm going to upload the photos I took."
"Same here."
The chatter continued loudly.
"He looked calm, but he still signed autographs and everything, right? He's totally tsundere."
"Exactly. It didn't feel like he was acting—it just seemed like his real personality."
"I laughed so hard at that 'teenage golden retriever' comment."
"I looked it up, and apparently he's filming The Island of the Missing in Vietnam right now."
Meanwhile—
Inside a van speeding down the highway, Kang Woojin sat by the window, staring outside.
"…."
But inside—
'Korea is crazy. Korea really is the best. I don't want to go back to Vietnam.'
Even so, the overseas shoot wasn't over. Starting today, he had about a week of filming in Korea, after which he would return to Da Nang.
Woojin fell into thought.
'What was my schedule again? There was a lot…'
He couldn't recall it clearly.
But one thing was certain.
'It's already tomorrow?'
From the passenger seat, Choi Sunggeon turned around with a bright smile.
"Woojin, let's upload some promotions on social media and Kang Woojin's Alter Ego."
"Boy Friend airs tomorrow."
──────────
October 19, 9:30 a.m.
The entertainment industry was filled with talk about one thing.
Boy Friend.
Articles poured out.
[Boy Friend premieres today at 10 a.m.]
[Viewers express high anticipation]
[Can Kang Woojin succeed in his first romantic comedy lead role?]
With only thirty minutes left, it was inevitable.
More headlines followed.
[Is Boy Friend overhyped?]
The topic spread to Japan as well.
Online reactions flooded in.
[lol finally something to watch]
[Assistant Manager Park vibes are insane]
[I'm not even a fan, but I'll watch for Hwarin]
[I wish more bold short rom-coms like this would come out]
[I'm curious how Kang Woojin handles romance]
[Feels like it might be boring]
[I'm so excited I'm going to watch the moment it drops]
[Seems like a typical rom-com, but I'll try it]
[Just making it to Japan is impressive]
[If it disappoints, the backlash will be huge]
Comments kept pouring in.
With ten minutes left, many people connected to Kang Woojin began opening Netflix.
"It starts at 10? If I have time, I'll watch everything today. If not, I'll download it."
At Netflix Korea, staff gathered in a conference room.
Inside a van, Hwarin felt her tension rise.
"Ten minutes… exactly ten minutes left."
'Why am I this nervous? It's not even my first release.'
In a dorm room, Kang Woojin's fan club gathered.
"One minute left!"
"Hyuna, raise the tablet! I can't see!"
"Okay, okay!"
The screen refreshed.
The main page changed.
Cherry blossoms drifted softly across the display.
Woojin stood with a slight crease in his brow, while Hwarin smiled brightly with her arms open.
A line appeared below.
— Boy Friend
Until yesterday, and even now, I had no choice but to be that way.
Excited voices overlapped.
"Wow, it looks so pretty!"
"The color palette is amazing! Woojin oppa looks so good!"
"Hurry, play it! It's already 10:01!"
Hyuna tapped the screen.
The page shifted. All episodes appeared at once.
"No way! They dropped everything at once!"
She immediately selected episode one.
The screen turned black.
The drama began.
A bright OST played.
Without introductions, it moved straight into the scene beneath cherry blossoms.
"Wow, the visuals are insane."
"Wait, how did they film the cherry blossoms? Didn't they shoot this in summer?"
"It has to be CG. But it doesn't look fake at all."
"They must've spent a lot on this. Oh! Woojin oppa's here!"
"Hwarin's styling is perfect. Where did she get that outfit?"
About five minutes in—
suddenly—
"Wait—what?"
Hwarin ran toward Woojin.
And kissed him.
Not lightly.
A deep kiss.
"What?! They're starting with a kiss scene?!"
"That's insane! I didn't expect that at all!"
"Same! People are going to be shocked right from the start!"
"Ahhh! What is this?! This is crazy!!"
It completely overturned expectations.
"That's way too strong for an opening!"
"I love it! This is so different!"
"Wait, go back! Rewind it! I want to watch it again!"
And just like that—
Boy Friend began.