Episode 35: The GraceOne Cheat Code
Barely two seconds into offering help, and I’m already sorry.
Woo-ya stared at me like I was an assassin.
“Ugh, I’m so sorry. Got a spare bag?”
“Just tape up the torn part.”
“Uh… it’s too ripped for surgery…”
“No way. Our toasts are 2,000 won each, but a 50-liter trash bag costs 2,070 won.”
Toast inflation, huh?
“I’ll buy you a new one.”
“Then I’ll knock off 70 won, so just give me 2,000.”
Fair’s fair, I guess.
I handed her 2,000 won for the bag.
But instead of grabbing a new one, Woo-ya stuffed the spilled trash back into the torn bag and taped it up like a skilled surgeon.
Why do I feel like I just got swindled out of a million won at a jewelry store?
She’s relentlessly thrifty.
It’s like my mom saying she’ll air-fry chicken if I order delivery, just to save money.
Woo-ya lifted the patched-up, chubby bag and set it outside the stall.
Clearly, she didn’t trust me to handle it, not even asking me to take it to the dumpster.
“It goes by the pole over there, right?”
“No, don’t make more work. Just leave it.”
One torn trash bag, and I’m treated like dead weight?
I may not be called a genius anywhere, but I’ve never been labeled a liability either. My pride’s taking a hit.
Unlike her morning demeanor, Woo-ya’s expression and tone after closing were cold and clipped.
This must be the real Oh Woo-ya, not the Pippi Toast owner.
Like a part-timer finding tasks in a slow shop, I took the trash bag to the dumpster anyway.
In its place was a recycling box filled with egg cartons and milk containers.
“This goes too, right?”
“Yeah, same spot. Thanks, oppa.”
A carrot after the stick.
She knows how to work people.
She kept putting me to use after that.
“Wipe the ketchup off the floor with the leftover water from the cooler. Scrub it with the broom. It’d be great if you could sweep up the small trash too.”
“Yes, boss.”
About ten minutes later, closing was done.
The residential area near the school, now empty of students, was eerily quiet.
Woo-ya covered the stall with a tarp, finished her final checks, and asked, “Where you headed now?”
“Got a motel nearby.”
“When are you going back to Seoul?”
“When I bring you with me, I guess?”
“Ha, then you’ll be living in Busan forever.”
“Guess I will. Where’s your place? I can drop you off.”
“No, I’m good with this.”
She pointed to an electric scooter behind the stall.
The contrast between her bubbly customer-service mode and her current demeanor was stark.
It hit me that her eye smiles and cutesy tone were pure capitalist sales tactics.
Trying to keep the conversation going without expectations, I asked, “Had dinner yet?”
“Nope.”
“I haven’t either. Wanna eat together?”
“What’re we eating?”
Oh, a response?
“I’m good with anything, so pick what you want.”
“Hmm… I’m craving something spicy…”
“Yeah, smelling margarine all day would do that.”
“Right? Oppa, you good with ramen?”
“Ramen’s great.”
“There’s a convenience store up ahead. Wanna go?”
“Cup ramen?”
“Yup. I’m feeling Shin Ramyun.”
“Alright, let’s go.”
Woo-ya slung a fanny pack with cash over her chest and pulled the scooter along.
“Hop on the back.”
“Uh… I’ll just walk.”
“Why? It’s fine. It can handle two.”
“Well… I’d have to hold your waist…”
She stared at me, as if not getting it, then asked, “Oppa, you got a girlfriend?”
“Nope.”
“But what’s there to worry about? I don’t have a boyfriend, so it’s fine.”
Her reply was ambiguous, open to misinterpretation, but I took it to mean she just doesn’t see me as a guy.
Since there’s no jealous partner to worry about, she probably meant it’s no different from a casual handshake.
That’s likely it.
“Still, don’t girls usually hate having their waist touched?”
“That’s because of belly fat. I don’t have any, so it’s fine.”
How do I even interpret this?
She’s cold but overflowing with confidence.
She seems sensitive but chill.
She’s detached yet approachable.
“If grabbing my waist feels weird, hold my shoulders.”
“Oh, shoulders are better. I’ll borrow them, then.”
I climbed onto the scooter after Woo-ya got settled, placing my hands on her shoulders.
But the hand placement wasn’t the issue.
The space between us was way too close.
The footboard’s only about 50 cm long, so her back inevitably pressed against my front.
Her back was one thing, but her hips were the real problem.
Her unnecessarily prominent hips meant contact in places that shouldn’t touch.
The tight dress made it even more awkward.
Even if it were Seung-ah, Ah-hyun, or Jin-ah in this position, it’d be embarrassing—let alone with someone I just met today.
I leaned back as far as possible, like skiing, to keep some distance.
Woo-ya glanced at my “courteous” posture and said, “Oppa, that’s dangerous and makes it hard for me to steer.”
“No, but if I don’t, we’re too close…”
“You could get hurt playing it safe. Just hold on tight. I won’t say anything.”
“It’s not about you, it’s me being embarrassed…”
Was it nerves?
I was surprised by how naturally I slipped into informal speech.
“You’re so shy. Are Seoul guys like this, or is it just you?”
“I don’t think it’s a regional thing… How far is the convenience store?”
“There’s one nearby, but it’s cramped and not great for eating. There’s one with outdoor tables on the way to my place. Let’s go there.”
“How long’s the ride?”
“We’d already be there if you stopped stalling! Just hold on!”
Woo-ya grabbed my waist with her right arm and yanked me closer to her hips.
“Whoa!”
“Fall off, and I’m leaving you behind, so figure it out.”
As one of her feet hit the footboard, the scooter took off.
It zoomed along the open roadside.
“Huh?!”
Sure, it’s only 20-30 km/h, but the sensation was totally different from a scooter or car.
The unexpected speed triggered my survival instincts, and my hands, previously on her shoulders, instinctively wrapped tightly around her slim waist.
Compared to the rest of her, her waist was almost too delicate.
Woo-ya muttered disapprovingly, “If you were gonna do this anyway, why waste time?”
“Wow, it’s fast.”
“First time?”
“I’ve ridden those shared scooters, but never an electric one.”
“Calling it a ‘ssing-ssing’ is cute.”
In less than a minute, we arrived at the convenience store.
We grabbed ramen and kimbap and sat at an outdoor table.
Considering I helped with closing and paid for the trash bag, she could’ve offered to pay, but she smoothly left the bill to me.
“Thanks for the food.”
“You usually finish at this time?”
“Yup.”
“How many hours do you sleep?”
“About four? But, like, you really went back to Seoul and came back?”
“Yup, for real.”
“Really?”
“Wanna see my KTX ticket?”
“Let me see.”
She genuinely thought I was bluffing. Only after I showed her the ticket on my phone did she let out an impressed, “Hmm.”
“For real.”
“I reported meeting you to the company, went home to pack, and came straight back.”
“How’d you find me?”
“YouTube and blogs.”
“I thought you were a scammer at first, but after seeing what you sent, it looks like a legit company…”
“Yeah, it’s pretty well-known. You’ve never heard of GraceOne…?”
“Hold on, I’ve got a call.”
“Sure.”
“Hey, Ji-han. Not asleep? I’m at the convenience store near home.”
Sounds like her younger brother.
“He’s coming? I’m with someone right now… No, not like that. It’s a guy, sure, but he’s from Seoul, here for work to meet me.”
Feels like the brother’s super protective of his sister.
“He says he’s some big-shot celebrity manager… I don’t really know. Hold on.”
Woo-ya handed me the phone.
“Oppa, my brother wants to talk.”
“Uh… hello?”
-“Who are you, mister?”
The young, elementary-school voice already seemed to peg me as a bad guy.
“Hey, hi.”
-“Who’re you managing? What company?”
Alright, if Woo-ya doesn’t know, maybe you will.
I played my hidden card, one that hadn’t worked on her.
“Ever heard of GraceOne?”
-“Liar.”
“No, I’m not saying I manage GraceOne. I’m with their company. Right now, I’m handling a group called Free Sense. Know them?”
-“I only know GraceOne.”
“Halloween Tteok-tteok-tteok Day! You know that one?”
-“Oh? Yeah! The coffin dance!”
“Exactly, exactly. I manage the girls who sang that.”
-“For real?”
“Hello?”
The voice switched to a girl’s.
Her younger sister, I guess.
“Yes, hello.”
-“Who’re you, mister?”
I repeated what I told Ji-han, throwing in the “Halloween Tteok-tteok-tteok Day!” line, and finally got the conversation flowing smoothly.
As a result, the two siblings from Woo-ya’s KakaoTalk profile came rushing out in pajamas.
Oh Yoo-kyung, high school sophomore.
Oh Ji-han, fifth grader.
Unlike Woo-ya, who’s uninterested in idols, these two were obsessed.
I verified my identity by video-calling the Free Sense members in the practice room.
“Whoa, it’s real! I’m a huge GraceOne fan!”
Ji-han was more into games than idols, but Yoo-kyung was a diehard GraceOne fangirl.
She said she’d been stanning since GirlXGirl, just like me.
Yoo-kyung gushed about being a fan of Eun-gyeol, the GirlXGirl winner and “born idol” a year younger than her, practically bouncing with excitement.
Woo-ya finally caught on, her eyes widening as she looked at me. “Oh, those girls?”
That’s right, that’s right.
No way GraceOne wouldn’t work its magic.
Yoo-kyung kept texting someone after the Free Sense video call, probably bragging to friends.
Then she suddenly shot up from her chair, pointing at me.
“Hey! Aren’t you that guy?! The manager who blocked acid at the fan sign!”
“Yup, that’s me.”
“No way, that’s insane!”
“For real?”
Ji-han was shocked too.
Woo-ya, unaware of the incident, leaned in. “What’s that? Tell me!”
Yoo-kyung recounted the story with such passion, as if she’d been there, even pulling up the video of me stopping the attacker and my interview.
Woo-ya’s expression completely shifted.
It was like she’d watched a documentary about a great historical figure, beaming with pride for bringing me here to give her siblings this experience.
For the first time in a while, her eye smile returned as she looked at me.
“Wow, oppa, you’re kinda famous, huh?”
“Nah, not really…”
As I humbly shook my head, Yoo-kyung dropped the critical question, tying up all this buildup.
“So why’d you come to meet our unnie?”
I answered with conviction.
“Free Sense is going five-member for their new album. The company’s pushing hard for it, and we want your unnie as the final member. They told me to bring her no matter what.”
“Whoa…”
“Is that for real…?”
The siblings stared at Woo-ya, speechless.
I didn’t need their answer to know what was going through their heads.
They were already picturing Woo-ya debuting, topping music charts, and going global.
With a regretful expression, I added, “But your unnie says she’s not interested.”
Before I finished, both siblings lunged toward Woo-ya.
“Huh? Why not?!”
“Noona, why aren’t you doing it?!”