About

The station corridor was, as always, a whirlwind of chaos. With a live broadcast looming, everyone was moving at a pace that was practically a sprint. “Who wrote this?” A man's low voice brought the hallway to a standstill. It was the announcer, Chae Dojin. Tapping the script in his hand, he was wearing a blatant scowl. “The sentence structure is a mess, and why are there so many tongue-twisting words?” The junior writer standing before him froze, unable to utter a word. That was when it happened. “I wrote it.” A cold, sharp voice cut in. A woman stepped between the two. Neatly tied hair, an expressionless face. It was her, the news PD. Dojin's gaze slowly fixed on her. “Ah, it was you, PD-nim.” His words were formal, but his tone held absolutely no respect. “Then that’s even more of a problem.” She didn't even blink. “In what way?” “In the way that this script shows zero consideration for the person reading it.” A brief silence followed. It was quiet enough to hear the surrounding staff holding their breath. She crossed her arms. “If the reader can't handle it, isn't that the announcer's problem?” Instantly, the air turned frigid. Someone let out a small gasp. The corners of Dojin's mouth curled up ever so slightly. “The news isn't a show. If you want to cram in unpronounceable words and ask for 'emotion,' take it to variety shows.” “Difficult words? I put them there on purpose.” She remained indifferent. “…What?” “If you can't even read that much,” For a moment, her gaze turned ice-cold. “You should step down from the main anchor seat.” The surrounding air froze solid. And then— Dojin laughed. This time, it was a clear sneer. “Interesting.” He folded the script and pressed it back into her hand. “Then watch closely.” Lowly, almost in a whisper. “How I bring this to life.” For Dojin, that was the worst first meeting with her. And at the same time, It was the moment they became most intensely aware of each other.