Episode 55: Firebrand Han Yujin
The next day, summoned to Seo Yoonje’s office, I’m met with—
“Yujin-ssi, that was too reckless!”
A thorough scolding.
“You should’ve consulted me before saying something like that!”
If I had, he’d probably have just told me to shut it.
‘But it makes sense from his perspective.’
As long as I’m with MyWay, my words can be taken as the company’s official stance—not a stretch by any means.
“Haa…”
But the moment passes quickly.
“Ha. Haha…”
Seo Yoonje’s sigh turns into a hollow laugh.
“Sorry.”
“Sorry? Don’t laugh, you’ll make me soft!”
I bow with a not-at-all-sorry expression, and Seo Yoonje yells, his face a mix of amusement and frustration.
His anger fizzles out in that gradient for two reasons.
‘First, public opinion’s on our side.’
Right after my interview aired live on the news, Y&I, Korea’s top law firm, announced they’d represent Gong Jiu pro bono.
That sparked major media outlets, previously silent, to move in sync.
Corporations vs. individuals, elites vs. unknowns, top-tier vs. underdogs—the media framed it as a story where the latter naturally garners support.
This tipped the already-leaning public opinion further toward Gong Jiu, with even neutrals joining in.
“Now I really feel how young you are, Yujin-ssi… Did it have to be a news broadcast?”
Honestly, I have an excuse.
I planned to speak up for Gong Jiu, but not on the news.
‘I was aiming for a radio show.’
With Unmask Tour buzz, I figured a couple of gig offers would come.
But no—after declining all media appearances, not a single offer came in for a week.
I couldn’t just wait for one, either.
‘Lee Heekyung cutting Kevin Lee loose is inevitable.’
A scandal involving a near-50-year-old preying on two barely-adult trainees with drugs—chilling just to think about—would bury the plagiarism issue instantly once it breaks.
‘It’s unfortunate for those kids…’
Since it happened before my regression, all I can do is hope Kevin Lee pays for it.
Given the case’s weight, I needed to amplify Gong Jiu’s presence now to keep his story from fading later.
The problem? Unlike my past life, I lack industry connections.
The only link I had left, Song Jaeryung, got me that celebrity interview slot.
‘I had plenty of chances to back out…’
But I didn’t see the need.
With solid facts in hand, I wasn’t playing a losing game, no matter how big it got.
Still, I keep the deeper reasons to myself—explaining fully might reignite Seo Yoonje’s anger, which is finally cooling.
And the second reason—
“Hoo… Fine. You did well. From our position, it’s not something we could say, so you said it for us.”
Seo Yoonje, who built MyWay to support artists, couldn’t help but feel angry about this.
And it’s not just him—any ordinary person striving in their field would empathize.
Thanks to this, I’ve earned the image of a fiery idealist who speaks out when others stay silent.
My Blind Singer win, paired with my former obscurity, has sparked a sense of relatability, maybe even sympathy.
Um Dongkyu’s late-night SNS post yesterday—whether supporting me directly or through a connection—helped diffuse the aggro aimed at me.
Plus, my mention of a new song in the interview has stirred some interest.
“But still, it stings a bit. Why’d I have to hear about your song progress on the news?”
“Oh, it’s not fully done yet. But it’s going in this direction.”
I slide over prepared lyrics, and Seo Yoonje snatches them like a hawk, his usual intense gaze locked in.
“Hmm.”
Humming Shooting Star’s melody, he scans the lyrics, muttering without looking up.
“Should I be shocked you wrote this so fast, or that it’s late for you? It’s good. This could work as is.”
“I’m still tweaking the rhythm details.”
“If that’s tough to nail alone, talk to Ailee.”
Finally looking at me, he adds—
“Anyone who knows you can tell. This is about you and Zia.”
He smiles slightly, then—
“So…! Watch what you say! It’s not just you—Zia could get caught up too!”
“Ugh.”
He brings it back around just when I thought it was over.
“Zia already scolded me for it.”
“Good! You deserved it!”
I got chewed out for saying what I didn’t need to.
“But… that’s so you, Han Yujin. That’s our Yujin. It’s why I believed in you.”
There’s a hint of pride in his tone, but that’s a can of worms I’ll leave sealed for now.
“I’ll be more careful.”
I offer a polished, corporate apology, and Seo Yoonje shakes his head.
“That outspoken image… it’s likable, but one wrong step, and you’re done. Be careful. I know people don’t change easily, so I won’t stop you, but give me a heads-up next time. Through Suhyuk if you have to, okay?”
“Yes, I’ll do that.”
“See! You’re not even saying you won’t do it again!”
Seo Yoonje leaps up, as if shouting, “Gotcha!”
I’m not sure he realizes he’s the one caught, but his mood seems lighter after the outburst.
“Tch. Let’s go.”
Instead of sitting back down, he tidies his desk and heads out.
“Where to?”
“Where else? To clean up the mess you made.”
For a moment, I think—
‘What’s there to clean up?’
But as he strides off, saying, “Hurry up, someone’s waiting,” I tuck my questions away and follow.
Seo Yoonje dragged me to a building about ten minutes by car from MyWay’s headquarters.
Without a keycard, entry was impossible. Waiting for us inside were—
“What do you think, Zia?”
“It’s amazing! I love it!”
—Madam Moon Sookhee and Woo Zia.
As I process the situation, Seo Yoonje explains.
“Thanks to the mess you made, Yujin-ssi, the media’s about to swarm you. That rooftop you two live in? Too risky. Stay here for now.”
His tone is gentle but firm—no room for refusal.
But why refuse?
The place, about 30 pyeong, is more than spacious for Zia and me—almost too big.
I don’t track real estate prices, but I know Blind Singer’s prize money couldn’t touch a place like this.
‘Zia seems to like it too.’
In my past life, I spent more time in transit or studios than homes, so décor means nothing to me.
The one thing I care about when moving? Security.
“No need to feel burdened. It’s like a dorm for MyWay artists. Only residents are Hylliy upstairs and the building owner above her.”
I noticed when we entered—
‘A girl group dorm building?’
That more than satisfies my security needs.
“In a few days, that rooftop will be impossible to access. My guess? You’ve stayed under the radar because you’ve kept a low profile.”
I agree.
Suhyuk’s shaken off more than a dozen tails while we’ve gone to and from that rooftop.
That’s worked so far, but I can’t keep burdening him forever.
Still—
-“Don’t say anything.”
That’s what his look seems to say.
“It’s minimalist but has everything you need. You’re both staying here. Order anything you need online, and Suhyuk can grab stuff from the rooftop. Sound good?”
Seo Yoonje directs this at Zia, not me.
“…Thank you, CEO.”
Zia glances at me, and when I nod, she bows to him.
‘One downside…’
No more house-hunting adventures with Zia.
“Also, rent plus maintenance is about this much.”
“Huh? Isn’t there a zero missing? It’s barely more than our rooftop rent.”
“Nope, it’s correct. Between us, the building owner’s tied to MyWay. That’s why it’s affordable. No need to stress, Zia—you don’t need to worry either. It’s covered by Yujin’s activity budget.”
Only one person connected to MyWay could own a building like this.
‘Hylliy’s dorm, owned by Lee Ahjung…’
Security at that level isn’t something money alone can buy.
I’ll live with the minor complaints.
“Even without this incident, you two couldn’t stay in that rooftop forever. We were planning this move anyway—it just happened faster. No pressure. We’re heading out, so rest up. Yujin, finish that song and get to work, yeah?”
“Yes, understood.”
“Zia, take the rest of the day off. See you tomorrow?”
“No, I’ll come with you, boss.”
“Nah, you two discuss what you need.”
And so, Zia and I are left alone in this heaven-sent new home.
“We’re not going on that trip, are we?”
“Oh, yeah, now that you mention it…”
Zia’s joke breaks the brief silence, and I realize the biggest cost of this mess.
After causing this chaos and getting a place like this, even the kind-hearted Seo Yoonje might actually get mad if I suggested a trip—especially overseas—right now.
“With a city view like this in a new place, doesn’t it feel like a trip?”
Sure, it’s just familiar old Seoul, but Zia’s clearly trying to soothe my disappointment after all my talk of travel. I can’t help but smile.
‘That’s not what I’m disappointed about.’
The trip wasn’t just about going somewhere new with Zia for the first time.
What stings is that the proposal I planned for that trip is now out of reach.
“Can’t be helped.”
“Who told you to cause this mess? Ugh, so cheeky.”
Unaware of my inner thoughts, Zia laughs, and I playfully pull her into a hug, tussling briefly.
Grumble.
Our stomachs growl in near-perfect sync, echoing through the new house.
“Now that I think about it, we haven’t stocked this place. What should we eat?”
“Let’s figure that out later. For lunch, let’s order jjajangmyeon.”
“Jjajangmyeon? Out of nowhere?”
Zia’s shocked—I haven’t touched it since swearing to stay in shape.
“Wonder if there’s a good Chinese place nearby… Should we ask Hylliy sunbaes?”
Unfazed, I open a delivery app and browse menus.
No matter how rushed this move was, jjajangmyeon on moving day is a national rule, right?
***
Days later, while discussing Shooting Star with Ailee, a message pings her phone.
“Whoa, Yujin-ssi, have you seen this?”
She shows me her phone, her face full of disgust and contempt.
[Famous Producer L Under Investigation for Rape Allegations]
It’s the scandal I expected, but—
“Wow, look at your shock. It’s Kevin Lee, right? 25 years old—practically his daughter’s age. How could he…?”
I didn’t need to manage my expression.
‘What… is this?’
The details differ from what I remember.