Episode 8: Pick Up the Camera From Now On
‘He’s completely immersed, huh?’
Jo Un-seok held his breath and watched Cha Doyoung closely.
Hwang Hyejin, perhaps feeling the same, silently observed with tension.
Cha Doyoung was utterly absorbed in the script.
His gaze was fixed, as if hypnotized, while he flipped through the pages.
What on earth could he be seeing on that small piece of pulp filled only with words?
His eyeballs quivered unnaturally, and his eyebrows twitched.
The sight stirred an almost uncontrollable urge to jump into his head and see the performance he was imagining.
It wasn’t an act.
There wasn’t even a reason for it to be one.
Cha Doyoung was undoubtedly envisioning vivid landscapes that no one else could see, painting them in his mind through the text.
And he was immersing himself completely in that world he created.
Finally, he flipped to the last page.
“Doyoung, you seemed really engrossed while reading. Was the content that good?”
“Well… Imagining how Hyejin would act it out made it even more immersive for me.”
Cha Doyoung’s gaze didn’t focus on the others.
It was still chasing something in the air.
“You imagined Hyejin’s performance while reading? And that helped you immerse yourself more?”
‘How vivid must his imagination be?’
Did he, perhaps, study art?
If so, that level of immersion might make some sense.
“Doyoung oppa, which scenes stood out to you the most?”
“Oh, here, Episode 1, Scene 32. No, Scene 17 was great too. Oh, and Episode 2, Scene 12 was so lyrical, it was amazing.”
Jo Un-seok, momentarily dumbfounded, asked,
“You don’t mean you remembered all that after just one read, right?”
“Of course not everything—just the scenes that really left an impression on me.”
‘Left an impression?’
Something felt off.
While his choice of words wasn’t wrong, it felt closer to “saw” rather than “read.”
Hwang Hyejin quickly flipped through her script to find the mentioned scenes, then tilted her head in confusion.
“Oppa, those three scenes don’t even have dialogue—they’re just described with stage directions.”
Jo Un-seok also checked those scenes.
‘She’s right.’
They were simple one-liner directions with no dialogue.
Yet, he claimed those scenes left the deepest impression.
‘He’s not the type to bluff. Is there some reason behind this?’
Was his visual imagination and sensitivity so rich that he pictured images others couldn’t even conceive?
“Wait a moment. I’ll do a quick sketch for you.”
“A sketch?”
Cha Doyoung opened a notebook and began sketching swiftly with a pen.
Jo Un-seok’s eyes widened.
‘He’s no amateur.’
His pen strokes were sharp and precise, as if a machine was drawing a polished image on blank paper.
A large, pristine hotel lounge on the fifth floor.
By the window, Hwang Hyejin’s character’s boyfriend sat with another woman.
Meanwhile, Hwang Hyejin stood outside the hotel, trembling with bloodshot eyes, staring up at them.
A happy couple.
A devastated Hwang Hyejin glaring at them from outside, consumed by betrayal.
Though the sketch was a simple combination of refined lines, it vividly captured the immense betrayal Hwang Hyejin’s character was feeling.
“Oh my.”
Hwang Hyejin gasped, astonished as she stared at the sketch.
Jo Un-seok leaned in, closely examining the storyboard.
Even though it was drawn quickly and simply, it brimming with life as if he had stepped into the writer’s mind.
This was no amateur’s work.
“Doyoung, did you major in art by any chance?”
“No, not really. I just dabble as a hobby…”
“A hobby, huh?”
‘This is beyond professional-level storyboarding.’
What stood out even more was his speed.
His hand movements were so fast they were barely visible.
‘He’s no ordinary talent.’
Jo Un-seok wanted to curse the administrative department.
How could they assign someone with this kind of talent to mere physical chores?
‘But then again, I can’t really talk, can I?’
He let out a bitter smile.
After all, even he had relegated Doyoung to trivial tasks as a junior manager.
“Doyoung, how about trying your hand at the camera?”
“Huh? What do you mean by that…?”
“Oh, nothing big. Just be Hyejin’s personal camera manager. Carry a camera around and film whatever you can.”
“Wait, is that even a thing?”
“It wasn’t. I just created it now.”
While it’s already part of a manager’s duties to film artists’ vlogs or behind-the-scenes content whenever possible,
Dedicating someone solely to filming wasn’t a manager’s role. That was for professionals.
“Do you have a specific camera model in mind? Just tell me, and I can get you almost anything.”
“Uh, which camera is good?”
“Why are you asking me that?”
“I don’t know anything about cameras.”
“But you said you’re interested in video production?”
“Yes, I’m interested. I got into it less than a month ago.”
“…Wait, you’ve never handled a camera before?”
“Well, I just thought video editing seemed cool, so I figured I’d give it a try someday. For now, I’m just vaguely studying.”
“….”
“….”
Not just Jo Un-seok and Hwang Hyejin, even the road manager’s breathing went silent.
“Sigh.”
Jo Un-seok let out a light sigh.
“Alright, I’ll get you a suitable camera. Start studying it from now on. If you have any questions, ask me—or better yet, I’ll introduce you to someone you can consult.”
“Is it really okay to do this? It doesn’t seem like something a manager typically does…”
“It’s just that I want to see it for myself.”
Jo Un-seok smiled.
“To see how far you can go.”
***
【I can use Cha Doyoung’s hands to sketch images onto paper.】
【Would you like to proceed?】
The video app notified me, and I gladly accepted.
As soon as I picked up the notebook and pen, I felt control of my hands temporarily shift.
It was a fascinating sensation.
I could distinctly feel the rapid, scratchy movements of the pen strokes.
But the moment the sketch was complete, all those sensations vanished like a dream.
This is a little embarrassing.
I didn’t actually draw it—the video app used my body as a tool to create it.
Claiming this as my talent feels like stealing, and as a person with a conscience,
【This is standard practice in the 30th century.】
I guess if I’m using technology from a thousand years in the future, it’s only right to follow their norms.
Even to my untrained eyes, the result was incredible.
The sketching time was short,
And while it seemed hastily drawn, the intended image was clear and vivid.
Of course, the sketch didn’t compare to the video footage the app had shown me.
It was just a simple image sketch, after all.
But it seemed enough to convey the idea I wanted to share with the two people.
“Make sure to film Hyejin’s every move beautifully while holding that camera. And if any suspicious guys approach her, capture that too.”
“Ah, come on, Team Leader oppa. There’s nothing like that.”
“Sure, Hyejin. Keep me believing that.”
Is this technically a promotion within a day?
From errand-running manager to camera manager.
But now I’ll need to study how to handle the camera once I get it.
I was already busy with video-related studies, and now I have more to add.
【You don’t need to study camera operation.】
【Just pretend to film while holding the camera. I’ll collect the video data myself.】
So, I don’t need to study camera handling after all?
Ah, my trusty video assistant from the 30th century. I knew you’d have my back.
Still, it’s a bit disappointing.
While watching the dramatized scenes from the script, I briefly deluded myself.
That I had somehow seen a preview of a future drama broadcast—a ridiculous misunderstanding.
But that wasn’t the case.
What I saw was entirely newly created by the video app, frame by frame, based on the script.
It’s naturally completely different from the final product the director will create later.
The backgrounds, props, CG, colors, extras—everything will probably be far inferior.
In terms of quality, it’d be like comparing a limited-edition Ferrari to an ox cart.
【Considering the budget scale, it’s closer to a horse-drawn carriage than an ox cart.】
Not comforting at all…
If they could air this video as-is, it would be an absolute hit.
What a shame.
It’s not like I can offer to do CG work for them through my channel.
***
After Cha Doyoung got off the van and went home alone,
Hwang Hyejin, who had been cherishing the image sketches he left behind, turned to Jo Un-seok.
“These sketches are amazing.”
“Right? I think so too.”
“They perfectly convey what the scriptwriter must have imagined while writing the dialogue or summarizing the descriptions into a single line. You can feel it in just these few drawings.”
“That’s an incredible talent in itself.”
“But didn’t you initially bring him on as a junior manager?”
Jo Un-seok scratched his head awkwardly.
“Well, he’s got a big build, he’s diligent, and he seems lucky too. I thought if I kept him close, nurtured him as a manager, it’d work out well in the long run.”
“But oppa, I think Doyoung has more talent for directing or producing than being a manager.”
Pinetree is an entertainment company.
They foster and manage artists, not directors or producers.
For now, it’s fine, but eventually, Cha Doyoung and Pinetree’s paths might diverge.
“Well, when that happens, we could put him in charge of running the company’s YouTube channel or something, couldn’t we?”
It was a pure joke.
Hwang Hyejin stared at the sketches of the scenes from the script, then looked up again.
“Team Leader oppa, I have a favor to ask.”