The Great Storyteller

Chapter 63 - Who are You? (2)

Chapter 63: Who are You? (2)

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

“I was told that he’s here to meet me,” Juho said to Nam Kyung as he struggled to understand the situation.

‘Did you tell him who you are?’ he asked with his eyes, and Juho nodded lightly.

At that, Nam Kyung’s face lightened up. He had been hoping for a film adaptation and to work with Sang Young. Though it had been a bit sudden, the situation wasn’t entirely undesirable.

As Nam Kyung and Sang Young greeted each other, Juho remembered what he had heard about Sang Young in the past. ‘A baby bird,’ that had been the description, ‘a baby bird that was about to soar up to the sky.’ Juho looked at him.

With his untidy beard, curly hair, and dusty jeans, his appearance was far from that of a baby bird.

“Now, should we go inside? We have a meeting room in the office.”

“Sounds good. I was just about to think that it was hopeless when you turned me down without hesitation.”

“You came a long way. The least we can do is treat you to a cup of tea,” Juho said with a smile.

“Well then, I guess the only thing left to do is to convince you.”

“My real name is Juho Woo. Please call me Juho.”

“I’m Sang Young Ju. As long as you don’t call me ahjussi, I’m OK with just about anything.”

He must not have liked the sound of it when Juho had first called him that.

His reasoning was understandable. However, he was no more or less than an ahjussi to Juho at the moment. After all, Juho was a high school student. Still, after a quick thought, he said, “Yes, Mr. Ju.”

‘That should do it,’ he thought. Sang Young seemed much more satisfied.

The three sat across from each other, and Juho carefully studied Sang Young from his place. He was someone who had come looking for Yun Woo without knowing whether or not he’d be able to meet him.

“I’ve gotta confess. Whenever I had time, I lingered around your office to meet Mr. Woo, but I’m not up to no good or anything.”

Nam Kyung nodded and promised to explain things to his coworkers.

Sang Young’s husky voice gave off a very strong impression. It sounded like it had been worn out from overuse. At once, Juho felt the desire for success in that husky voice.

After he had finished talking to Nam Kyung, he turned to Juho.

“You really are a student.”

“Haha.”

Sang Young, too, had been studying Juho. He may have had a young face, but it was apparent that he was an author. Sang Young had already seen Juho’s eyes as he carefully studied someone. They were the eyes of an author.

To meet Juho, he had decided to camp out in front of Nam Kyung’s publishing company. Because Yun Woo was an alias, he didn’t even know how to get a hold of him. Whenever a student walked past him, he stopped them to ask, “Are you Yun Woo?”

After dozens of failures, Sang Young was finally able to meet him.

Finally, he grabbed hold of the opportunity. Suppressing his urgency and anxiety, he focused on the prey before his eyes.

“So, how is it having success at such a young age?” he asked as if he were taunting Juho. Perhaps, he was testing him.

However, there was no jealousy in his question. In other words, no matter what Juho said in response, Sang Young wasn’t going to perverse it into malice or jealousy. For that reason, Juho decided to give him an honest answer.

“Not so great.”

“How so? I’d be on cloud nine if I were in your shoes.”

Of course, Juho didn’t get the impression that Sang Young was mocking. ‘I like this guy,’ he thought.

“Success is a good thing,” Juho added.

“Then, what’s the issue?”

“Me. I’m the issue.”

Success, money and fame were not bad in and of themselves. Being known and seen by others was a good thing. The issue was with oneself. Nobody was big enough to bear such burdens. It hindered their sight and kept them from watching their steps.

“Success more than one can manage. It’s much worse than failure. Although it’s not about giving itself, it almost feels like you’ve been given something just so it can be taken away.”

In the end, he had fallen and scraped his knees. He had dropped everything within his embrace. His burden had been so big that it would’ve taken ages just to pick up the things that had fallen on the ground. He had to stretch and improve his endurance.

“I see,” Sang Young answered. “I think I can almost understand how you were able to write a book like that.”

With that, he reached into his jacket to take something out. It was the scenario, and he placed it onto the glass table. ‘Working Title: The Trace of a Bird.’

“While you were turning down all of the offers from various directors, including myself, I’ve been working on this. Please, take a look.”

Juho looked quietly at the scenario.

“Did you write this personally?” he asked.

“No, we have a writer, who is also my wife.”

Now it made sense to Juho as to how Sang Young had been able to recognize him.

“She’s gorgeous. Would you like to see a picture?”

Seeing his apparent devotion to his wife, Juho respectfully declined. He asked Sang Young instead of picking up and reading the scenario, “You said that you’ve read my book at least twenty times, correct?”

It was a very basic confirmation, but he was curious about the director’s perspective toward his work.

“Yes. I know it’s redundant for me to say, but it left me with a deep impression, and that’s what has brought me here,” he said with a serious face.

“I’m curious as to what you felt.”

“It’s dark, and then it becomes bright,” he answered after a brief thought.

Like his coarse hands, it was an answer that fit his appearance.

“That’s very concise.”

“Isn’t it accurate though?”

Though he sounded like he was emphasizing the visual aspect more, he wasn’t wrong. The story did really get brighter in the end.

“As soon as I thought of that, I decided to make it into a movie,” he added calmly.

He thought about the very end of the book. It was the part where the protagonist Yun resolved to face his fears. Although he had been reading, there were vivid images in his head. It had almost felt more vivid than a movie.

Before he knew, Sang Young had become Yun in his mind, experiencing the situation firsthand. He had been moved deeply as he connected with his emotions. As evidence, he had shed tears for the first time in years.

“Yun comes to face the sun in the end. He finally faces what he had been giving up. It left me with a strong impression,” he said as he quietly observed Yun Woo. His real name was Juho Woo. He had been sitting there quietly as Sang Young complimented the book left and right, which was very unusual for a high school student. He had wondered if Juho was simply used to compliments, but there was no trace of arrogance in his expression.

From the way he had spoken earlier to his attitude at present, something was different about him.

‘I suppose that’s how he was able to write such a book.’ Sang Young was all the more determined.

“Do you know why I have been turning down directors who want to make my book into a movie?” Juho asked calmly.

Sang Young knew it by instinct.

‘This is it.’ His answer would determine the outcome, so he closed his eyes briefly. He was desperate to convince that young author. Then, he opened his eyes as he clenched his hands into fists.

“A book and movie are innately different, from their names to their characters. There’s bound to be a reason why a novel is a novel. I believe that novels are different from movies,” Juho continued as he stared at Sang Young’s fists.

Sang Young nodded. It was true that the two were inherently different.

He had never been the type to be desperate. The moment he had become a movie director, he had believed that his dream had already come true. From then on, the priority was to live a life without failure. His normal self wouldn’t have bothered to think about adapting a novel into a movie. He wouldn’t have thought twice about camping out in front of a publishing company just to meet the author. However, that book was different. It urged him, and it took him that far.

“You’re right. There have been countless failures,” he answered,

Regardless of the country, film adaptations had always been prevalent in the film history. Like what Juho had said, it might have been that a novel shone the brightest when it stayed true to its original form. Yet, Sang Young wanted to make every bit of ‘The Trace of a Bird’ into a movie because he had seen its potential.

“I’m aware, yet I still wanted to make your book into a film.”

Juho looked at him, silently asking for a reason.

“I’ve learned that there are things that I seek in your book.”

“What would those be?”

“Drawing near.”

“To whom?”

“A person.”

‘A person.’

He continued, “I had seen the same light as Yun in the book. We had overcome his darkness together. Then, I realized that I was connecting with him. I was communicating with him. I was so proud of Yun and myself. It almost felt like I had become Yun.”

Juho nodded as he urged him, “Please, continue.”

“I’m a simple man. What I found at the end was pleasure. There’s no sophisticated philosophy or anything like that. I seek after the pleasure in my work. My desire is that more people are able to connect and communicate with one another through my movies. I’ll do whatever it takes to maximize that effect. The best actors and actresses, scenario, soundtrack, background, camera, anything.” He looked at Juho’s direction and didn’t avoid making eye contact.

He continued as he slammed his hand down on the scenario, “I want more people to watch my movies. Even just one more. I want the audience to be happy. I want them to feel the life in the characters on the screen. I want them to be drunk with pleasure as they walk out of the theater.”

The scenario underneath his hand crumpled up slightly.

“In order to achieve that, I need your permission, Mr. Woo,” he said with his eyes fixed on Juho.

Juho thought for a moment, ‘Why did I go such a length? What is it that I want to hear from this starving man before my eyes? What is it that I want to see?’

What Sang Young had been after was emotion.

There were no words or pictures to an emotion. It had no regards for logic. The moment one exchanged it with another person, it immediately grew in size.

It was no exception for the characters in a book or behind a screen. They came alive the moment the shared their emotions. They communicated with the audience as they revealed their own. In the end, there was pleasure.

That mystical experience was more than enough to charm people. One fell in love with a movie or a book as soon as he had such an experience. Their feelings puffed up and left them desperate to love something or someone. That was what Sang Young wanted to share with his audience. He wanted to create that moment with his own hands.

‘Then what is it that I want?’ Juho already knew the answer.

“Can you make it even more vivid than my writing?”

“Huh?” he asked with a confused look.

“Can you beat my work?” Juho asked seriously.

He wanted Sang Young’s movie to captivate people even more than what he had written.