Episode 37: I Knew I Had an Eye for This
Me: [I’m so grateful and sorry, I don’t even know how to express it.]
Baek Jin-ah: [We’re the ones who are grateful and sorry. You sold your soul for us to succeed.]
Me: [I didn’t sell my soul.]
Baek Jin-ah: [You sold something even bigger. What road manager bets their salary for their artists?]
Me: [I know you guys will make it, so I’m just being bold lol.]
Baek Jin-ah: [That’s easier said than done. Actually doing it is huge.]
Baek Jin-ah: [And about helping Pippi unnie…]
Me: [Yeah?]
Baek Jin-ah: [Let’s keep it a secret from the company and the other members.]
Me: [Even from the members?]
Baek Jin-ah: [Yup, just between you and me.]
Me: [If you say so…]
Me: [But shouldn’t we tell Pippi?]
Baek Jin-ah: [No, no. Just say it’s from you.]
Me: [I think it’s better to be honest with her…]
Baek Jin-ah: [Then won’t she feel awkward around me? If she knows a fellow member helped her, she’ll feel intimidated. She might hold back on giving me advice out of guilt.]
Baek Jin-ah: [If she’s cautious around me, I’ll feel uneasy too. Especially since she’s older than me.]
That makes sense.
Jin-ah’s got depth.
Keeping things equal between members is probably best.
Me: [Alright, let’s do it that way.]
Baek Jin-ah: [So we get to eat toast every day now?]
Me: [Hahaha, ask her to make some!]
Baek Jin-ah: [Toast and Sol’s Eye would be perfect together!]
Me: [Respectfully noted.]
Baek Jin-ah: [So when are you coming back?]
Me: [Not sure. Gotta talk to Pippi again tomorrow.]
Baek Jin-ah: [OK, I’m heading back to practice.]
After wrapping up with God-tier Jin-ah, I messaged Woo-ya.
She was still awake, organizing the day’s sales, so I called her.
“The thing we talked about is sorted. I can cover 3 million a month for a year.”
-“How’d you pull that off so fast?”
“It’s not free—you’d need to pay it back within a year if you get a settlement.”
-“What if I don’t get one?”
“Then you don’t owe anything. No loss for you, so don’t worry.”
-“If I don’t earn, I really don’t have to pay? They won’t, like, trap me in a contract, right…?”
“Record this call. Want me to repeat it?”
-“Already am.”
“Good job.”
-“I’ll think about it then. Gotta talk to Grandma too…”
“How do you feel? If Grandma’s okay with it, is there anything else holding you back?”
-“Oppa, I don’t have big dreams or anything I want to do. I just need to make enough money so Grandma doesn’t have to suffer anymore and to send my siblings to college.”
Seung-ah and Ah-hyun dreamed of being singers since childhood.
Jin-ah seems to treat being in a girl group like a hobby.
Seon-yu’s driven by anger and spite toward her sister, Seo Jin-yu.
And Woo-ya? A pure capitalist, survival-driven idol chasing money.
What a diverse crew.
“Then let me meet your grandma and explain it myself. When’s a good time?”
-“Visiting hours are over after I close the stall. Grandma’s asleep by 8.”
“I’m fine going alone. Just give her a heads-up.”
-“Come with me before I open the stall. I was gonna visit her anyway.”
“Since it’s past midnight, you mean this morning?”
-“Yup. Around 6 a.m. work?”
“Is the hospital close?”
-“Two bus stops away.”
“I’ll pick you up at 5:50 with the car. Where should I meet you?”
-“The convenience store from earlier.”
***
The next morning, I went with Woo-ya to the hospital.
Her grandma’s youngest sister, Great-Aunt, was there too.
Grandma was in her early 70s, Great-Aunt in her mid-60s.
After introducing myself and the company, I explained my intent to recruit Woo-ya as a girl group member, including the living expense support.
Grandma opposed it, saying being an idol is unstable, but Great-Aunt argued that idols make big money these days, persuading her.
Other elderly patients and their caregivers, already up despite the early hour, chimed in, saying being an idol isn’t the starving artist job it used to be.
I was surprised by how positive their view of celebrities was.
As a Seoul bumpkin, I’d assumed rural areas, especially older folks, would see idols as broke “entertainers,” but I was wrong.
“Look at Lim Young-woong and Song Ga-in. They were drowning in debt until ‘Mr. Trot’ made them filthy rich.”
“Yup, event fees are over 30 million won. Not just one or two events—they’re raking it in.”
“Walking corporations, they are.”
Turns out, the trot music boom had softened their views on celebrities.
One grandpa even knew current idol names.
“Our singers are killing it in the U.S. and Japan. There’s a boy group, ‘Bulletproof Defense,’ making trillions in America, they say.”
“I heard most buildings in Seoul are owned by celebrities.”
Despite some exaggerations and misinformation, the key was that Woo-ya’s grandma’s ears were perked up by the others’ chatter.
When I spoke, she looked skeptical, but when the other patients and caregivers talked, she nodded with trusting eyes, listening intently.
I suddenly recalled what my dad said about my grandma:
-“To my mom, her friends are gods. She trusts their words more than family or doctors.”
The patients, now deep in trot singer gossip, had lost interest in us.
Grandma quietly called Woo-ya over.
“Woo-ya.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to be a singer?”
“I don’t care, as long as I can make a lot of money.”
“Then I’ll watch the stall, so give it a try.”
“They said the company will pay, so you don’t have to work anymore.”
“Still, how can we let a good shop sit idle…?”
“If you’re gonna do that, I’ll just keep running it myself. What’s the point of being a singer if you’re not resting?”
“Alright, I’ll figure it out.”
“Don’t do it, seriously.”
“Grandma, I think it’s best if you rest for now. You can always come back when you’re healthier…”
“Ugh, I’ll handle it, so go already. Girl, it’s six—aren’t you opening the shop?”
“I can open a bit late. Customers don’t come until after seven anyway…”
“There are construction workers too. Hurry up.”
“Fine. Great-Aunt, make sure Grandma doesn’t work.”
“Got it, girl. I won’t let her. Her knees are shot—how’s she supposed to run a shop?”
“Grandma, I’ll visit again before heading to Seoul.”
“Alright. My knees keep me from going far.”
“Yes, don’t push yourself.”
As we turned to leave, Grandma called me back.
“Hey, Manager.”
“Yes, Grandma.”
“Take good care of our Woo-ya. She grew up without parents, but she’s kind, capable, and not bad-looking either…”
“Of course, Grandma. Our company’s taking her in, so no need to worry.”
“What’s that, Grandma? Why’re you acting like I’m being shipped off forever? Am I going to the moon or something?”
“Girl, is Seoul close, then?”
“It’s close. These days, it’s only two and a half hours by train.”
“Only that long?”
“By plane, it’s an hour.”
“How would I know? I’ve never been…”
“Grandma, we’ll invite you to our company sometime.”
“Alright, you’re busy, so get going.”
“Yes, I’ll come back.”
“Bye.”
“Off you go, kid.”
In the elevator, I spoke softly to Woo-ya, who seemed down about her grandma.
“I thought she was in worse shape, but she seems healthy. That’s a relief.”
“Yeah, it’s just her knees and back. No blood pressure or diabetes issues…”
“You’re probably more worried about her than your siblings, huh?”
“Yeah. I’ve never been apart from her except for school trips.”
“Like you said, it’s just an hour by plane now, so you can visit often.”
Once training and album activities start, there won’t be much time, but it was the only comfort I could offer.
Woo-ya, lost in thought, stayed quiet until we left the hospital.
Then, in the car, she asked, “So, what do I do now?”
“You’ve made up your mind?”
“You came this far—what else can I do? I’ll do it.”
“Alright, come to Seoul, talk with the company, move into the dorm, and start training. What about the shop? It’s doing well—should you sell it for a transfer fee?”
“No way. If I sell, Grandma will lose it.”
“Then what?”
“She’ll probably take it back after her surgery.”
“Didn’t you tell her not to?”
“If she listened to me, she wouldn’t have kept going this long. Her stubbornness could outlast Buddha. She’ll say she won’t, then do it behind my back.”
“So, temporary closure until she’s better?”
“Yup. So, can I visit the company tomorrow?”
“If you’re okay with it, you could go today.”
“I’ll do today’s business and go tomorrow. What about you? Heading back today?”
“Let’s go together tomorrow. I planned for a week anyway.”
“What? You said you weren’t leaving without me.”
“Oh… right.”
“Ugh, I got played…”
“Played? You’re the catch of the century.”
“Whatever. You better keep your promise to make me rich. If you don’t, I might just kill you.”
“Got it… Head to the shop?”
“Yup.”
“Buckle up.”
Click, click.
“Why’s this not going down?”
“Don’t yank it—gently.”
Click, click.
“It’s not working even gently…”
“No, you’re not doing it gently. Slowly…”
“Okay, slowly…”
Click, click.
“…It’s still not working!”
“What, is it tangled?”
“It worked fine when we came here… Oppa, you try.”
“Hold on…”
I unbuckled my seatbelt and leaned toward Woo-ya’s side to reach for hers.
If I stretched my left hand, our faces would be awkwardly close, so I turned my head forward and used my right hand.
I tried to avoid contact and kept my head forward, but the car’s tight space and Woo-ya’s above-average physique meant my elbow inevitably…
Brush.
“Uh… sorry…”
“See? It’s not working, right?”
I hadn’t even touched the seatbelt yet…
I straightened up and pleaded, “The angle’s off. Sorry, but can you recline the seat a bit?”
“The seat? How do I do that?”
“There’s a lever under the right side. Pull it and lean back.”
“Under the right… Oh, this? Lean back…”
Thud!
“Oh my gosh, oppa!”
“Whoa!”
She must’ve pulled too hard—the seat slammed back.
Woo-ya, sprawled out, flailed her legs in surprise.
I tried to grab her outstretched arm to help, but when I saw her skirt ride up, I quickly turned away.
She snapped, “Ugh, this is so embarrassing!”
“Why’d you yank it like that…?”
“It’s my first time in the front seat—I don’t know how this works! Ugh!”
Is this her shtick or what?
Squirming like an overturned turtle, she whined, “Help me up!”
“Fix your skirt first…”
“Oh my gosh, why’s this happening?!”
“Don’t people wear underskirts these days?”
My female relatives always wear underskirts with skirts…
When I chided her, sounding puzzled, she pulled her skirt down to attention and shot back, “If I’m gonna wear an underskirt, I’d just wear shorts. Why bother with a skirt?”
Her oddly convincing logic made me nod instinctively.
I untangled the knotted seatbelt, helped her sit upright, and we set off.
Still embarrassed, Woo-ya hesitated before asking, “…Oppa, you saw, didn’t you?”
“Saw what?”
“My panties.”
“Didn’t see. Wouldn’t even if you told me to.”
“What color were they?”
“I said I didn’t see.”
“Not falling for it…”
“Look, I wasn’t gonna say anything ‘cause it felt meddlesome, but when you’re working…” I stopped myself. “Never mind.”
“Working what?”
“Nothing.”
“You mean don’t show my chest?”
“…You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Fine, whatever.”
After a three-second silence, she muttered, looking out the window, “What am I supposed to do about being big…?”
***
The next day, I returned to the company with Woo-ya.
A meeting was set with CEO Jung Han-yong, CEO Kim Yong, and Team Leader Jeon Min-yong for Woo-ya’s interview and camera test.
But as soon as Woo-ya greeted them, CEO Kim Yong left the room with one comment:
“Wow, I knew it. You’ve got an eye for this. She’s hired.”