“Yes, writer. Then see you this evening. Yes, yes. That place sounds good.”

Park Hoon threw his phone and shouted hooray. His work was now finally on track. Once things went according to plan, it wouldn’t be a dream to start airing by the end of the year. Although the drama times were full for this winter, there were times where things didn’t go well for some of them, so he could use that opportunity. He grabbed his mouse and double clicked on the plan document icon on his desktop. The scripting was going well. To a producer, their work was like their child, and as the creator, he would think that it was very pretty, but the thing he was working on this time was actually pretty enough to participate in the Miss Korea contest. Since the writer gave birth to a pretty piece, the producer had the responsibility to put that child on the stage. If the script symbolized the skill of the writer, the plan was the barometer that measured the producer’s skill. No matter how good the script was, if the plan was like an elementary schooler’s diary, it would never see the light of day. As he was staring at the black text on a white background looking for things to fix, he saw Lee Kangho, who had gone out to smoke, return to his seat while ripping out his hair.

“Did you swallow your cig or something?...