Kkotboda Namja Episode Recaps (source:dramabeans.com)

EPISODE 1 RECAP

In this world, Shinhwa Group (“shinhwa” meaning “legend”) is the most powerful corporation in Korea, perhaps best compared to real-life Samsung, only bigger and more powerful. Shinhwa makes cars, owns department stores, and is virtually everywhere — its empire even includes an elite school. At the beautiful Shinhwa campus, pampered students flaunt their wealth and band together in cliques.

Unfortunately, just being rich isn’t enough to survive the teen tyranny at Shinhwa — outsiders or loners are often marked as targets by the bored uber-clique F4. Once a student is delivered F4’s “red card,” it signals the rest of the school to go all out in harassment and bullying.

This guy, having just received the dreaded red card, is immediately chased by students and beaten. He’s cornered into a bathroom, puts up a good fight, and manages to escape.

Geum Jan-di (actress Gu Hye-sun) arrives at the school bearing a dry-cleaning delivery, amazed at all the splendor. Students talk excitedly about the newest F4 victim, joking that they’d known he wouldn’t last long. Recognizing the boy’s name, Jan-di follows the crowd outside, where they all look up at the rooftop, where the battered guy stands poised to jump off the building.

The guy shouts to his audience, “This what you want, isn’t it? Fine, I’ll give you what you want.” He starts to step off the ledge — but Jan-di bursts on the scene, yelling to get his attention. She’s got his dry-cleaning! That’ll be $30, please!

Jan-di isn’t too quick on the uptake, because she doesn’t grasp the severity of the moment until the boy tells her to get the money from his family after he dies. At this, Jan-di gasps in horror: “Are you about to die? Why? You go to such a nice school.” He tells her, “This isn’t school, it’s hell.” Jan-di corrects him, saying, “Excuse me, but the real hell is outside.”

He asks if she knows what F4 is (she doesn’t), and explains that their red card makes you a hunted man. Finally realizing that this mysterious F4 is why he’s all bloody and ready to jump off a building, Jan-di indignantly asks, “And you’re going to let them get away with that?” If this was her school, she’d show them who was boss. The guy tells her that her friends are lucky to have a friend like her — and then jumps.

Everyone gasps — Jan-di lurches forward — and grabs him on his way over the ledge. Saved!

Photos are uploaded, news spreads quickly, and pretty soon, Jan-di is hailed as a hero in the media, a sort of Wonder Woman for the working class. As this occurred on a Shinhwa campus — and worse, a Shinhwa heir is involved (albeit indirectly as F4’s leader) — citizens denounce the Shinhwa Group. Housewives agree to boycott Shinhwa stores, candlelight vigils are held, people demonstrate.

Jan-di’s best friend Ga-eul and her boss cheer her on (the girls work after school at a neighborhood restaurant). Ga-eul wistfully wonders if the F4 boys are as cute as they say, but Jan-di is not at all impressed. She calls them Fly Four instead — dung flies.

Naturally, the outcry is a pain in the neck for Shinhwa Group’s CEO, Kang Hee-joo, who happens to be mother to F4 leader Gu Jun-pyo. She vents her ire on her secretary, Mr. Jung (perfectly cast, by the way): “You know why public opinion is frightening? Because they’re ignorant!”

What, then, can be done for damage control? Offer the commoner a scholarship to Shinhwa High School, of course!

Jan-di’s family is thrilled. Jan-di is not.

She refuses to go to the school, preferring her life as it is. Her parents, on the other hand, think it’s foolish for her to pass up a free education that even the rich and powerful would kill for. Plus, they wheedle, the school has a swimming pool… and remember how much she liked swimming? Jan-di is not so easily bought, but still, the end result is a foregone conclusion. The next day, she arrives at her new school.

Predictably, she is a complete fish out of water in this place where students flash luxury vehicles (Jun-pyo arrives by helicopter) and designer clothing.

Jan-di wanders around, searching for the swimming pool, when she hears the strains of a violin. Curious, she follows the sound and comes to its source: It’s Yoon Ji-hoo, dressed all in white, playing his violin out in the woods. As we all do.

When he sees her, she asks in a flustered tone for the pool, and he points her in the right direction. She runs off in mortification, but also impressed at Ji-hoo’s skills sensitivity pretty face.

Now for the Grand Entrance:

F4’s appearance sends all the girls squealing and everyone rushing to the entrance to welcome their overlords. No seriously, you practically expect somebody to genuflect at their feet. As it is, F4 arrives in a blaze of glory and glamour-shot backlighting.

Jun-pyo looks over at one of the bystanders, who immediately quivers in fear. In a supremely bored but authoritative voice, Jun-pyo asks Woo-bin for the rest of his juice, then pours it all over the hapless student.

(The guy had been bragging earlier about wearing a shirt only he and Jun-pyo owned, and Jun-pyo is not pleased to be caught similarly dressed.)

Afterward, Jan-di sputters at Jun-pyo’s assiness. She calls him a crazy bastard, then wonders if everyone else is also crazy, watching his reign of terror without saying anything.

This attracts the attention of the school’s three queen bees, who introduce themselves as Ginger (the leader), Sunny, and Miranda (or Shinhwa’s “jin, sun, and mi” — a way of saying they’re the most beautiful). Ginger’s affectation is to make horrified exclamations in English (e.g., “Oh. My. God.”), while Sunny’s my favorite because she seems vaguely dim. They stick up for F4 and tell Jan-di to watch what she says.

Deciding to acquaint herself with the members of F4, Jan-di and her brother surf the internet for their bios:

Song Woo-bin (actor Kim Joon) is heir to a construction enterprise; his father is a real estate magnate.

So Yi-jung (Kim Bum) is a pottery genius who comes from an artistic lineage; his grandfather also owns a famous art museum.

Yoon Ji-hoo (actor-singer Kim Hyun-joong) is the grandson of a former president, and the sole surviving descendant, as his parents died in car crash when he was five. His family owns a variety of rich-people toys, like an art center, a European soccer team, and a major league baseball team.

And then there’s Gu Jun-pyo (Lee Min-ho). The others are famous among rich society, but Jun-pyo, as the heir to Shinhwa Group, is known to practically the entire country.

Finding out how privileged F4 is sends Jan-di into a rage — life’s too unfair. She takes particular umbrage at Jun-pyo for being such an asshole, because if he was born so lucky, he should be thankful and act kindly to others.

Too late, Jan-di looks down the staircase and spots a set of legs — someone’s taking a nap on the landing below. It’s Ji-hoo, who saunters up to her, telling her in his soft-spoken way that she’s disrupted his sleep. He heard the whole tirade, such as her calling them flies, and tells her the guy’s name is Jun-pyo, not Jung-pyo — if she’s going to rail against him, she ought to at least get the name right.

Lunchtime. The Bimbo Trio make it a point to hover and comment on Jan-di’s poor-person lunch. The cafeteria serves gourmet offerings, but Jan-di ignores them in favor of her plain lunchbox (rice, egg, Spam), which they now ridicule.

Unexpectedly, Jan-di receives a friendly overture from another new girl, Oh Min-ji, who is sweet, pretty, and recently transferred from Germany.

Ga-eul expresses relief that Jan-di made a friend; she was afraid she’d wind up an outsider. Jan-di replies glumly, “I am an outsider.” Still, she figures she can lie low until graduation, which prompts Ga-eul to ask what happened to the fearless protector who used to always stand up for her in elementary school.

But Jan-di figures she’ll have to stick it out. Her father’s absurdly proud of her fancy uniform (as a dry-cleaner, he can appreciate quality), while her mother pushes her to work on her looks so she can snag a rich boy. (Nobody ever said kdramas were feminist.)

Jan-di’s patience is tried the next day, when F4 struts in looking cool, as usual, and a shy student presents Jun-pyo with a homemade cake and hopes that he’ll “accept her feelings.” Jun-pyo stares at her in his blank, haughty way, and takes the cake, as though accepting — to the girl’s excitement and the Bimbo Trio’s horror — until he then smashes the cake into her face.

Jun-pyo walks off, only to find Jan-di in his path, trying to do her best to tamp down her fury. She unleashes a diatribe:

Jan-di: “You! Don’t you even have the barest human courtesy? I don’t bother hoping you’d have any humility for your riches. But if you didn’t want to eat it, you could have politely refused. Or, couldn’t you think of the feelings of the person who made the cake and accepted?”

Unfortunately, Jan-di’s tirade is only in her head. When it comes time to say it, she backs down and mutters, “Never mind.” As Ji-hoo passes, though, he gives her a smile, as if knowing what’s running through her mind.

The next encounter isn’t so easily dismissed. Min-ji and Jan-di eat ice cream cones and chat cheerfully, when Min-ji slips and falls at Jun-pyo’s feet, getting ice cream all over his shoe. Immediately scared and apologetic, Min-ji tries to offer to pay for new shoes, then offers to do “whatever I can” to rectify the situation. When he tells her to lick the ice cream off his shoe, Jan-di steps in, saying he should accept the apology — it’s not like Min-ji fell on purpose. So Jun-pyo turns his derision onto Jan-di instead:

Jun-pyo: “Is it your thing to be obtuse and interfering? Why butt into someone else’s business?”
Jan-di: “She’s not just anyone, she’s a friend. But I guess they don’t include words like ‘friend’ or ‘friendship’ in rich people’s dictionaries.”
Jun-pyo: “Friend? Let’s see some of that great friendship in action. You lick it.”
Jan-di: “What?”
Jun-pyo: “If you do it for her, I’ll let this go.”

Resignedly, Jan-di starts to bend over as Jun-pyo waits expectantly, but stops mid-bow. Instead, she shoves her ice cream cone in Jun-pyo’s face, causing him to fall over.

Jan-di scoffs, “So what, did you earn all that money yourself?” And no, her “thing” isn’t to interfere, it’s to stand up to the behavior of rich punks who rely on their rich parents.

Furthermore, she takes out a couple of bills (equivalent to a dollar) and throws three at him, referring to his stained clothing: “Our business charges 2,500 won, but I calculated using Kangnam [rich neighborhood] standards. If it still won’t clean, bring it by.”

That night, Jun-pyo remains in a dark mood, trying to figure out how to get back at Jan-di. I’ll admit I burst out laughing when the song “Never Say Goodbye” came on, since it’s one of the main themes of PD Jeon’s previous series, My Girl, and he likes giving little nods to his previous works. [ Download ]

As the rest of the guys aren’t taking this seriously, they find Jun-pyo unusually fixated. Yi-jung suggests that Jun-pyo act in their “usual way,” and Jun-pyo’s gleeful reaction gives us our first glimpse of his, uh, not-quite-bright tendencies.

The next day, Jan-di gets the red card, but it doesn’t really mean much to her and she just tosses it away.

She finds out what the effects of red-carding are when she walks into class and her desk is gone. One of her notebooks is lying on the ground, graffiti’d with hate words, and when she bends down to pick it up, it jumps out of reach — someone’s tied a string to it.

Jan-di follows the leaping notebook out into the hallway, where her equally defaced desk is parked. Students start pelting her with eggs — and then a bucket of flour is dumped over her from above.

It’s the despoiling of her uniform that gets to her — she remembers how her father so proudly ironed it — and Jan-di shouts at them defiantly, “Go on! Keep going!”

When she looks to the crowd around her, Min-ji rushes off, too scared to show her support.

Meanwhile, F4 watches the proceedings on a television in their lounge. The other two (Yi-jung, Woo-bin) figure that’s the end of story, but Jun-pyo corrects them — it’s over when Jan-di comes begging on her knees.

I admit this is the scene when I totally fell for Lee Min-ho’s dunderheaded charms, because he’s absolutely convinced Jan-di will come through the door any minute now. He counts down, and his consternation when she doesn’t is hilarious.

Jan-di retreats to her shouty stairwell (“Do you think because my name is Jan-di [grass], you can trample all over me?!”). Again, she’s interrupted by Ji-hoo, who’s relaxing on the landing below.

Oddly, he asks, “Do you know how to make pancakes?” Confused, Jan-di lists the ingredients. Taking in her appearance, Ji-hoo peers at her closely, then wipes the flour from her face and uniform with a handkerchief. Surprised and touched, she promises to return it later; he answers that he won’t be coming back, since the stairwell’s gotten a lot noisier recently.

Jan-di’s mood lifts when she goes back to the now-empty classroom and finds a set of gym clothing and a stuffed animal on her desk. The toy has a voice-recorded message from Min-ji, which tells her, “I’m sorry. Forgive me for being a coward.”

When she goes for a swim, Jan-di finds the pool littered with trash — it’s Jun-pyo’s next phase in the Jan-di Tormenting Regimen.

In fact, Jun-pyo’s so into his plans to ruin Jan-di’s life that even his friends are surprised he’s still so fixated on them, a week later. Yi-jung muses, “Isn’t she the first to really stand up to F4?”

(Ji-hoo isn’t with them because he’s off sleeping in a new location, although how anyone can sleep with legs crossed like that is a wonder. Way to flaunt that masculinity, Ji-hoo.)

All the while, Jan-di cleans out the pool, picking out all the empty bottles and soda cans. By the time she’s dressed in the locker room, she’s visited by more of Jun-pyo’s minions, who grab her, ignoring her screams, and start to carry her off.


THE BAD

(1) Why hello there, familiarity. Waaaaay too much direct cribbing from the Japanese Hanadan. I was hoping they wouldn’t, and unfortunately, there were enough similarities that none of the plot points packed any punch. I suspect the drama will take off once it sheds the similarities, or so goes the hope.

(2) Character mimicry. As with the point above, it seems like a few characters have been lifted directly from the Japanese drama. Kim Hyun-joong playing Ji-hoo is fantastically cast — he looks and sounds the part completely. Only, it’s kind of like him acting as Oguri Shun, more than him acting as Rui. He’s pretty good, but I wish he’d do something to distinguish himself — add a little character tic, a variation or nuance — so that he isn’t just going to be labeled Shun #2.

(3) The overacting. There’s a lot of it. Jan-di, Jan-di’s family, the Tarty Trio — everyone’s laying it on rather thick. Gu Hye-sun actually looks fine as a 2nd-year high school student — but it’s her acting that’s the problem, because it’s like she’s acting 12 to overcompensate for being 25. If she just pulls back, she ought to be fine.

If you base the story in real emotions, you can carry the audience through some extreme plot turns, but if you never ground those emotions (and keep exaggerating everything), it’s a lot harder for us to get invested. There were some moments that broke through that cartoonishness (Jan-di’s reaction to being egged, for one), so let’s hope they go in that direction.

(4) The English. Oh my God, the English. There’s a scene where Yi-jung, ever the player, makes a move on an older woman in a store as she shops for china plates. He, the ceramics expert, suggests a better selection, and combined with Kim Bum’s questionable English and the white lady’s questionable acting, the scene was unwatchable. (The mute button and embarrassed laughter came into play.) Ginger the English-spouting Mean Girl gets a little embarrassing as well, although I suppose it’s her character to be absurd.

(5) Kim Joon, wassup man, that’s da bomb, yo yo yo! Let me reiterate: Oh my God, the English. I wonder if they’re, um, incorporating Kim Joon’s pop-singing background into his character. And don’t get me wrong, I am ALL in favor of giving F4 some added flair — letting these actors make the characters their own, and whatnot. I am NOT, however, in favor of bastardized gangsta-rap-inflected Engrish. Please. Stop.

The apologist version: If one were to make a defense against those complaints, I suppose one could argue that some scenes are just so iconic that even if it’s a repetition, it’s so much a part of the story that one shouldn’t just ignore it. For instance, the red cards in the lockers. Also, I think that Episode 1 requires a lot of setting up, which necessitates repeating many elements that are familiar to those who know Hanadan. When Boys Before Flowers did diverge from the familiar moments, it did much better. Hopefully things will improve once the series really gets going.


THE GOOD

The casting, hands down.

Surprisingly, the best part of Boys Before Flowers (for me) was Lee Min-ho. I was worried about him the most, but ended up totally relieved. He — unlike Gu Hye-sun, the Tarty Trio, Jan-di’s parents — did not overact. Also, he — unlike Kim Hyun-joong — seems to embody his character more than as a mere imitation of the Japanese Hanadan. He’s great playing the snide, arrogant leader of F4, but he’s also showing real promise at the character’s thick-headed, slightly ignorant side — he doesn’t play the character’s dumbness as overtly as Matsumoto Jun did, but it’s enough to be pretty funny. He totally looks the part, and acts the part, but so far isn’t just copying Matsumoto’s interpretation.

Despite my comments in the “Bad” section above, I’m actually pretty pleased with the overall acting. There don’t appear to be any glaring, unfixable deficiencies — I think flaws can be adjusted with some toning down and fine-tuning. Kdramas have typically done better (in my opinion) when they focus on the down-to-earth aspects of stories rather than the outlandish — Goong was better when it was about the troubled teenage marriage than when it was about monarchial conspiracies — so once the story gets going in earnest, I hope the drama finds its feet.

EPISODE 2 RECAP

Jan-di fights off her trio of attackers, who grab her from the girls’ locker room and hold her down.

They stop at the arrival of Ji-hoo, who asks what they’re doing in his languid, casual manner. His presence flusters the guys, because they’re acting on Jun-pyo’s orders, and Ji-hoo is obviously Jun-pyo’s friend. As though oblivious to the scene going on in front of him, Ji-hoo peers down at Jan-di and asks if she’d left something out of her pancake recipe from before. Something went wrong when he tried it. Still held down by her attackers, bewildered at the non sequitur, Jan-di mentions baking powder. Rather an awkward way to discuss cooking techniques.

Ji-hoo addresses the three minions: “Why are you still here?” Faced with disobeying Ji-hoo to his face or Jun-pyo behind his back, they skedaddle.

Ji-hoo covers her in a towel, and as he turns to leave, Jan-di tells him, “Thank you.” In his even tone, he answers, “I wasn’t helping. These things just annoy me.”

In his mansion, Jun-pyo hears of Ji-hoo’s interference. To show us that Jun-pyo isn’t completely heartless, he criticizes his minions for their extreme measures — he’d merely instructed that they scare her (to show her a “bitter taste”).

Ji-hoo’s kindness lingers in Jan-di’s mind for the rest of the day. She happens to come across him when she bicycles past him fondling a poster of a famous model at a bus stop. Not so sure you want to be getting that intimate with anything at a bus stop, buddy.

Jan-di says as much, telling him that a bus stop poster is bound to blacken his hands with dirt. Still, she admires the poster of Min Seo-hyun, who is not only famous for her beauty but also for her charity donations and her brains; she recently passed the law exam in France. Ji-hoo asks, “Do you know her?” Jan-di answers, “Of course. She’s my idol.”

Ji-hoo enjoys her reaction, smiling at Jan-di’s wide-eyed adulation. But his smile fades when she says that Seo-hyun, who is bound for great things, could marry royalty, or a president, or something of that sort to become a “world’s princess” like Princess Di. At that, Ji-hoo says, “She’s just a model.”

Jan-di sticks to her fantasy of a foreign prince falling for her idol. Mood killed, Ji-hoo turns to leave with the parting shot, “What do you know?”

At home, Jan-di’s computer-obsessed brother finds scandalous news online about one of the students at Shinhwa High School, a second-year who’s supposedly pregnant. Identified merely as Miss “K,” the family tries to guess who it could be, like a Miss Kim or Kwon (or Keum — which I wrote as “geum” since it’s closer to the phonetic reading).

The next day, Jan-di notices the stares of the other students, but is busy wondering which of them is the notorious Miss K.

Jun-pyo is in a good mood, and when Yi-jung asks what’s up with “2,500 Won” (Jan-di) today, he says, “Just wait. She’ll come here soon.” (It’s too cute to see that this — her coming to see him — is his obvious goal, although he convinces himself that it’s all because Jan-di needs to be humbled.) Ji-hoo wonders, “What prank have you pulled this time?” Jun-pyo: “Why, so you can save her again?”

Yi-jung and Woo-bin wonder what that means, while Ji-hoo says that picking on one girl like this “is ridiculous and childish.” Jun-pyo retorts, “Do you see her as a girl?” because to him, she’s like a horse, or a dog. After all, she dared defy the Great Jun-pyo-nim (using the “nim” suffix on himself is, as one might guess, exceedingly arrogant).

Jan-di’s classmates identify her as the notorious Miss K, and news spreads fast. In class, both chalkboards have been covered in slurs like “filthy,” “get lost,” “who’s the daddy?” “crazy bitch,” etc.

The Tarty Trio leave a pile of dirty rags on her desk and taunt her. Pushed too far, Jan-di fumes, “I can’t take this anymore!” Ginger mocks, “So what are you going to do about it?”

Jan-di’s arrival at the F4 lounge brings Jun-pyo much satisfaction, but he covers it with disdain: “If you came to apologize, you’re too late.” She throws the dirty rags in his face and warns him that she won’t sit back and take his abuse anymore.

Jun-pyo’s arrogance turns to confusion when Jan-di clenches her fists and assumes a fighting stance. Puzzled, he asks what she’s doing, and she repeats: “I told you, I won’t sit back and take it anymore.” With a shriek, Jan-di jumps in the air, and whirls into a rather impressive spinning back kick — catching Jun-pyo right in the face.

The other F4 members look on in amazement as Jan-di clomps over to the fallen Jun-pyo, demanding, “Did you see me sleeping around with a man? Did you even see me holding hands? How dare you say all that about a chaste and pure girl who hasn’t even had her first kiss yet!”

She warns one last time, “If you keep up these filthy tricks, I’ll really kill you then!”

One might think that this show of defiance would piss off the Almighty Jun-pyo, but later that night, he sits alone, chuckling to himself. Woo-bin asks why he’s so amused. Jun-pyo: “Haven’t you guys caught on yet?”

With supreme satisfaction, he announces, “That chick’s totally into me.” That makes no sense to the other guys, but Jun-pyo elaborates:

Jun-pyo: “Think about it. She didn’t want the guy she likes to misunderstand, so she came herself to insist she was pure and innocent.”
Yi-jung: “Following that logic –”
Woo-bin: “– saying she hadn’t had her first kiss –”
Jun-pyo: “– is her way of saying she’s waiting for her first kiss from me.”
Yi-jung, clapping: “Bravo. Impressive, Gu Jun-pyo. You’re my friend, but that’s really something.”

Relieved at this gratifying revelation, Jun-pyo attributes Jan-di’s extreme hate of him to “thinking she could fool me by acting mad.” It is HILARIOUS, and Lee Min-ho is adorable.

The next day at school, Jan-di lies low, wanting to avoid more encounters with the Almighty Jun-pyo. Men in suits approach and ask her to accompany them, but won’t identify their boss.

She declines, and hides (in a painfully exaggerated sequence) as she sneaks her way across campus, only to be accosted at the last minute. She’s shoved into a waiting vehicle, then drugged.

She awakens on a massage table in a luxurious room, and is subjected to all sorts of painful beautifying processes like waxing.

Here, I wish they’d employed a bit more logic, because Jan-di goes along with the makeup, hair, and dressing sessions — confused, but not really protesting. Never mind that she still doesn’t know whose home she is in, or why she is there. Then again, I suppose if someone were lavishing clothes, jewels, and spa treatments on me, my guard would be down too.

The attendant (butler?) tells her that this is the first time that “the young master” has brought home a girl, although I suppose that requires a pretty loose definition of “bringing home.”

The butler can’t tell her why she’s here, because he doesn’t know, either. He deposits her at a door where someone is waiting for her; Jan-di enters cautiously and sees a tall figure standing at the window, and guesses, “Ji-hoo?”

Disappointedly realizing she’s at Jun-pyo’s family estate, Jan-di is immediately suspicious, and puts up her dukes: “What are you going to do this time?”

Jun-pyo turns her toward a mirror and tells her to look: “See, money can turn even an ugly duckling into a heron.” Jan-di: “Don’t you mean swan?”

Indignant, Jan-di retorts that she didn’t ask him for this, but he’s wrapped up in his own smug misconception, and tells her, “If you like me, just say so.” When she doesn’t respond, he recalls, “Right, you like to talk in opposites, don’t you?” (O, delusion, he is King of it.)

Jan-di accuses him of illegally kidnapping her. Jun-pyo assures her, “Nobody’s around, so you can be open about liking me here. From now on, I’ll be willing to make an exception and recognize you outside of school.”

Jan-di is completely speechless. He continues: “If you just do as I say, when nobody’s around I can treat you as the Almighty Jun-pyo’s girlfriend.”

Jan-di wonders if his brain has been addled by too much greasy food, and turns to leave.

Showing the first sign of anxiety, Jun-pyo blocks her from leaving. He tells her that she’s currently wearing 100 million won’s worth ($77,000), “But that’s nothing. If you’re with me, you can enjoy more than that every day. Are you saying you don’t want it? Are you crazy?”

Jan-di bristles: “The moment I see your face, it feels like bugs are crawling all over my body.” She takes off her jewelry and throws it on the ground, then reaches to unzip her dress (before remembering Jun-pyo’s watching — rather intently, I might add — and insists he return her uniform).

Jan-di: “You don’t seem to know this, but you can’t buy friends with money. Friends bond through feelings.” Jun-pyo replies, “There’s nothing you can’t buy,” and tells her to contradict him if she can. She can’t think of anything.

After Jan-di leaves, Jun-pyo rages against his employees, stomping on the discarded dress and telling his butler to throw away the dress and fire everyone who worked on Jan-di today.

Jan-di remembers too late that she’s still wearing the borrowed high heels, takes them off, and throws them over the gate — just as Ji-hoo finds her outside and wonders what she’s doing. He laughs: “You’re always in a dramatic situation.”

Jan-di asks Ji-hoo, “Is there anything in the world you can’t buy?” Dejected, she figures there isn’t, but perks up when Ji-hoo answers after a moment of thinking, “Air.”

Amused at her happy reaction to finding one unbuyable thing, Ji-hoo ruffles her hair and calls her “a really fun kid.” As he gets up to leave, he tosses her his sneakers, since she’s now barefoot. Jan-di watches him zoom off on his motorcycle with a smile.

She tries to return the shoes the next day by visiting the F4 lounge, but Yi-jung and Woo-bin inform her that Jun-pyo isn’t around. She grumbles that she doesn’t care about him, and asks them to give the shoes to Ji-hoo.

The guys know they owe their recent entertainment to Jan-di, and invite her to have some tea while she fills them in on her latest encounter with Jun-pyo. Seeing a commercial of Min Seo-hyun on TV, the guys mention that Ji-hoo ought to be happy that Seo-hyun is coming back to Korea soon.

She asks if Ji-hoo is acquainted with Seo-hyun, and learns that after his parents’ death, he’d retreated into autism (I remember hearing it was Asperger’s, which is a mild form of autism). Seo-hyun was the only one able to draw him out of himself, and became something of “a first love, girlfriend, and mother.” This information drags Jan-di into a funk, so much so that she even cuts dinner short, feeling inadequate next to the glamorous model.

In fact, she’s so distracted that in gym class, she fails to react swiftly when Ginger hurls a ball at her (in a game of dodgeball), and gets hit in the face. She leaves the group of laughing mean girls while the F4 guys watch, and Jun-pyo finds her washing up in the bathroom.

He tries to helpfully wipe the blood from her face, but Jan-di, fighting tears, doesn’t want his help. It’s clear (to us) that he wants to make her feel better but is woefully ill-equipped with the social skills; not knowing what to say, he chides her for being absent-minded enough to get hit in the face, and tells her not to cry. Jan-di counters, “Do I have to get your permission to cry now? And weren’t you the person who was happiest to see me crying and hurting?”

Jun-pyo: “Is that all you can say to the person who came to help?”
Jan-di: “Who asked for your help? If everyone died and you were the last person on earth, I still wouldn’t accept your help.”

It’s a bit cute — and sad — when Jun-pyo stops her from leaving and demands to know, uncertainly, “W-what is it you hate so much about me? I’m good-looking. I’m tall, I’m smart, I’m rich. How — how can you hate Gu Jun-pyo? Are you stupid?”

Jan-di shoots back that she dislikes the way he looks, the way he walks, his curly hair — “and picking on weak kids for fun with your red cards or whatever with your thoughtlessness — that’s the worst!”

Jun-pyo stutters in disbelief, but Jan-di’s not quite finished: “In short, I hate everything about you! Everything!”

Is the obligatory shower scene supposed to be moving? I don’t know; it was just so obvious that I had to laugh.

But shameless half-naked water shots aside, Lee Min-ho does a good job of showing Jun-pyo’s frustration, first as he engages in a particularly rough game of rugby, then as he stares in the mirror in self-loathing.

It’s only when Jun-pyo spies the notice for a class trip that he cheers up. All second- and third-years will have the chance to go on a month-long school trip to Europe.

It doesn’t even occur to Jun-pyo that 20 million won ($15,500) is a bit rich for a commoner like Jan-di. Thus on class trip day, he spends the whole time at the airport pacing anxiously, wondering where Jan-di is. Ji-hoo is similarly distracted, but for a different reason — today marks Min Seo-hyun’s return to Korea. Seo-hyun (Han Chae-young, looking gorgeous) greets Ji-hoo warmly.

With Jan-di nowhere to be seen, Jun-pyo is a fidgety ball of nerves until he receives a call, (ostensibly) informing him where Jan-di is.

Jan-di cannot afford to go on the trip, and to make things worse, her father has run afoul of some gambling debts (ah, it wouldn’t be a kdrama without gambling debts!).

Therefore, she and her friend Ga-eul decide to make this a working vacation, so they can enjoy themselves while earning some money. Through Ga-eul, they find a job on a fishing boat. They’re enjoying the experience, until one loud, obnoxious voice cuts in on their sleepytime.

To her shock, the entire class looks down on her from a Shinhwa cruiseliner, with Jun-pyo manning a loudspeaker. Now that he’s found her, he’s happily back to taunting her (like a little boy tormenting a little girl he likes, not knowing that chocolate and flowers FIX EVERYTHING. Oh, yeah, and also a little basic kindness.).

Jan-di can’t believe her vacation is to be ruined thusly. She asks why they aren’t on their class trip, and he replies that he’s been there before and wanted a new, interesting place. He’s here on “someone’s” recommendation: “What a total coincidence, huh? I had no idea you’d be here, Dry Cleaner.”

I don’t care if you think this is corny, it is TOO CUTE.

When Jan-di and Ga-eul dock for the night, they note with dismay that Jan-di’s classmates have arrived and seem to be waiting to check into a hotel (or something).

Jan-di’s spirits further sink when Ji-hoo arrives with the radiant Min Seo-hyun on his arm.

Jun-pyo addresses Jan-di, saying, “Dry Cleaner, be honest, aren’t you happy to run into me at a place like this?” Jan-di retorts that she was having a grand time before he came along.

Jun-pyo invites her (in his careless way) to join the rest of the class. While she’s quick to turn him down flat, she has an entirely different reception for Ji-hoo. Jun-pyo looks on in displeasure when Ji-hoo breezes past him, invites Jan-di to a welcome party for Seo-hyun, and sees Jan-di’s immediate acceptance: “Yes, I’ll go, absolutely.”

The Tarty Trio, however, seize the opportunity to have a little fun, and give Jan-di some “advice” for the dress code. It’s not too hard to predict that this goes awry, and that they must have told her it’s a costume party. The instant she walks in, she realizes she’s been tricked, and berates herself for falling for the lie.

Embarrassed, she tries to leave, but is forced to enter the room to escape Jun-pyo (who, by the way, spends all his time looking around for her). When the Mean Girls find her, they taunt her and try to pull her coat off her. The result is inevitable but still humiliating: They grab Jan-di’s jacket, she tries to escape, falls into a tray of hors d’oeuvres, and lands with a loud crash.

The girls laugh gleefully, calling her delusional — perhaps she started believing the hype that she truly was Wonder Woman? Others snort in amusement, but Jun-pyo looks angry (on her behalf). He’s about to move toward her, but once again is one-upped by Ji-hoo, who arrives at Jan-di’s side with Seo-hyun.

Seo-hyun sizes up the situation immediately, and faces the Mean Girls with disgust: “I know why you did this. But do you know that this proves how low you are, not her?”

With Ji-hoo and Seo-hyun by her side, Jan-di is ushered up to Seo-hyun’s room to clean up.

Seo-hyun takes an immediate liking to Jan-di as she dresses her up and helps her with her makeup, saying that any friend of Ji-hoo’s is a friend of hers.

Jan-di brushes off the compliments, saying Ji-hoo was just being nice, but Seo-hyun knows him better and assures her that he’s not that type. This is the first time she’s seen him step in to help someone else.

Jan-di doesn’t want to give herself too much credit, and answers, “But Ji-hoo’s just attentive by nature.” To Seo-hyun, this is just proof of the opposite, that Jan-di is an exception to the rule.

She also has heard of Jan-di’s vow not to let Jun-pyo beat her down. She voices her support and wishes Jan-di victory, but explains, “It’s because he’s lonely.” Being the child of a parents who are fixated solely on their business empire has made him lonely, and his outer demeanor is just a cover-up for it.

Seo-hyun finishes the look with a pair of shoes, telling her, “Good shoes take you to good places.”

When Jan-di is ushered back to the party, people look on in surprise, but no one’s more shocked than Jun-pyo — who drops his plate in his astonishment at the purty, purty girl.

And yet, he is beaten to the punch once more, because Seo-hyun pushes Ji-hoo toward Jan-di, saying that a gentleman doesn’t ignore such a beautiful lady. So Ji-hoo walks over to Jan-di and offers his arm.


COMMENTS

All through Episode 1, I was thinking Lee Min-ho reminded me of someone, and it kept niggling at the back of my mind. I finally put my finger on it, and it’s Lee Dong-wook (La Dolce Vita, My Girl — aka, this guy). Lee Min-ho isn’t nearly as good as Lee Dong-wook (yet?), but he shows a lot of promise, in addition to the fact that he delivers some of his lines in a similar way, and even has similar bone structure to boot.

Sorry to say, however, that while I was holding out hope for Kim Hyun-joong, I don’t think he is going to do much in this drama other than look pretty. In Episode 1, he was quiet and enigmatic. In Episode 2, the more lines he had, the more clear his inexperience became, which makes him seem stiff and unnatural. Let’s hope he’s given as few lines as possible, to let his quiet mystique carry him.

On the other hand, Kim Bum is doing all right playing Yi-jung (nothing to scream about, though), and I actually do like Kim Joon’s Woo-bin — in the absence of his gangsta “Yo, yo, yo!” posturing (which was still present in Episode 2, though pulled back a little). Unfortunately, Kim Bum looks years younger than his castmates, as he’s the only one actually playing his age (19), other than Ga-eul, who’s also 19. Speaking of whom, Kim So-eun is pretty good for the newbie she is, and she also happens to be currently acting in the large-scale sageuk drama Empress Cheon-chu, playing Chae Shi-ra’s childhood role.

EPISODE 3 RECAP

At Seo-hyun’s prodding, Ji-hoo asks Jan-di to dance. Jan-di gets swept up in the romanticism of the moment, dancing with her pretty-boy crush, while he’s less enthused (she’s dancing on his feet). I suppose the entire sequence is supposed to be magical and dream-like, but when everyone on the dance floor is bumbling around in a stiff, bobbing box-step, it does kind of suck the elegance out of the moment.

Not keen to watch Jan-di dancing with his best friend, Jun-pyo leaves the ballroom and ends up by the pool, where he takes out his frustration on the poolside furniture. At least they can’t fight back. His anger turns to wussy-boy fear when he sees a bug, and freaks out when it flies toward him. He makes wild swatting motions and tries to ward off the bug, jerking around in a panic.

After her dance, Jan-di sits out and watches Ji-hoo dance next with Seo-hyun. I’m guessing she is supposed to feel wistful that Ji-hoo dances so much more wonderfully with Seo-hyun, but as that’s just not true, I’m making a guess here. Not keen to watch her crush dancing around with his lady-love, Jan-di wanders outside and hears a loud splash.

The next thing we know, a student bursts into the ballroom to announce that Jun-pyo has fallen into the pool. Dude, I’m sure announcing his humiliation is ever so much more helpful than actually, yunno, helping. Yi-jung notes that Jun-pyo cannot swim, and everyone stampedes outside.

When they arrive outside, Jan-di is dripping wet, having dragged Jun-pyo out of the pool, and shouts at him worriedly to wake up. He lies there, unmoving, so she starts performing CPR, pushing down on his chest and breathing into his mouth.

Only, well, he doesn’t exactly need the CPR. Not that he’s going to tell her that, of course. Why ruin a good thing?

Jan-di sees that that his eyes have opened and stops immediately — but he grabs her shoulder, puckers up, and tries to pull her back down toward him for a kiss. It’s hilarious, because it doesn’t work, and Jan-di punches him in the face, disgusted, thinking he was faking the entire thing. (I’m not sure how much he was faking, but I’m sure the part about him not being able to swim was real. So at least she did save him on that score.)

She storms off in a huff, but Jun-pyo is still exceedingly pleased with his one stolen “kiss.”

He remains in a fabulous mood the next morning, even surprising his butler with his eagerness to get to school early. Jun-pyo mangles the “early bird” adage by saying knowingly that there’s a proverb about “the early bug gets dead first.”

He’s feeling so cheerful that when a maid spills his tea — a previously fire-able offense — he barely notices. When his butler assures him that the maid will be fired, Jun-pyo tells him magnanimously that the household is run too strictly — loosen up!

He grins and walks off, announcing, “What great weather!” just as thunder rumbles in the distance.

Because, y’see, Jun-pyo has great things planned for today! He plays more practical jokes on Jan-di, first smearing the locker room door with what appears to be Vaseline, then filling the pool with ducks. He watches her irate reaction on his lounge television, chuckling to himself all the while. Yi-jung and Woo-bin marvel that this is the hardest they’ve ever seen him work at anything.

(In his mangled reasoning, Jun-pyo feels this is his way of expressing his “gratitude.” Well, I suppose if throwing trash in the pool is his way of tormenting her, then tossing cute live animals is a step up. Never mind the fact that she can’t swim in either scenario.)

Ji-hoo has been particularly withdrawn recently, spending more time than usual away from F4. Instead, he chooses to play his violin outside in the snow. (Who doesn’t love that?)

Jan-di comes upon him as his string breaks, cutting his finger. She senses he doesn’t want her there, so she tells him she’ll just attend to his hand, then go. She takes the handkerchief that Ji-hoo had previously lent her and wraps it around his finger, then takes out an umbrella and places it over the violin to protect it from the snow.

Little does she know that they’re being watched and taped on Ginger’s phone. Although her encounter with Ji-hoo isn’t very warm or friendly — mostly prolonged silence — it looks more suggestive from a distance, and the Bimbos Three are determined to bring Jan-di down.

Jun-pyo’s great mood lasts while he basks in the pool, anticipating Jan-di’s arrival.

When he hears someone approach, he automatically assumes it’s her, and starts to chide her for her late arrival and lax training (his equivalent to a little boy pulling a girl’s hair, or perhaps calling her “Carrots”).

But instead of Jan-di, it’s the mean girls, who eagerly show Jun-pyo the video clip. As his mood darkens, they fan the flames, adding that it looked like Ji-hoo and Jan-di have been dating for a while, calling her a gold-digger.

Coldly, he tells them to shut up, then throws the phone to the ground, breaking it. He stalks out.

Jun-pyo surprises Jan-di outside, where she has returned in hopes of talking to Ji-hoo (who has already left). Pride and feelings hurt, he lashes out mockingly: “Are you disappointed I’m not who you were hoping for?”

She starts to walk away, so he grabs her arm and demands to know, “Where are you going?” She retorts, “I have nothing to say to you so I’m going home.” Well, he has something to say to her, and sneers that she was playing around with him. He was going to make allowances for her and treat her nicely, but now he feels ridiculed.

Jun-pyo grabs her tightly and tries to force a kiss on her. Alarmed, Jan-di struggles against him, shaking her head back and forth so he can’t kiss her. She yells in a panicked voice, “No! I don’t want to! No!”

That stops him, and Jun-pyo slowly lets her go. He asks her, this time without anger, “Do you hate it that much?” He walks off.

This is easily the best scene of the episode. What could have been unintentionally funny or cheesy comes off instead with a lot of tension, a lot of conflicting emotions, great chemistry, and (for once!) a nice piece of score. Now, if only the rest of the series could be like this.

As a result, the next morning, Jan-di is mortified and refuses to go to school. Her parents are ready to force her to go anyway, but are distracted by the arrival of a fancy invitation: it’s for Seo-hyun’s birthday party.

Jan-di’s parents are immediately excited at this proof of their daughter’s social success, and look into “borrowing” a formal dress for the occasion. From their dry-cleaning service. I’m sure this is completely against their own rules, but it doesn’t matter because all the dresses suck.

Plot contrivance to the rescue! A special package saves the day: a lovely formal dress sent from Seo-hyun. (I suppose they do get points for making up reasons, however obvious, for dressing up the poor girl in rich clothes, instead of just glossing over that point as is so often the case.)

Jan-di arrives alone at the party, and is soon whisked off to the F4 table by Yi-jung, who uses her as an excuse to get away from a group of women he’d promised to call but never did.

She and Jun-pyo look at each other warily, a bit uncomfortable after their last encounter but managing to resume their bickering dynamic. To Jun-pyo’s surprise, Yi-jung and Woo-bin lavish praise on Jan-di, calling her “really pretty” and “the cutest in the room” (Jun-pyo scoffs his disagreement).

Seo-hyun arrives on the arm of Ji-hoo, and a cake is brought out. Seo-hyun thanks everyone for coming, then makes a startling announcement — she’s planning on leaving for Paris, for good. She wants to succeed on her own terms, without inheriting her parents’ law firm — she has goals for bigger and brighter things.

The F4 guys suddenly realize why Ji-hoo’s been so down lately, and Jan-di’s eyes fill in tears in empathy for his pain. She watches Ji-hoo leave the party early. Seo-hyun finishes her speech, then follows him up to a hotel room.

Ji-hoo fiddles with an old toy, a puppet she’d given to him when they were kids. “That was when you stopped calling me ‘noona,’” she reminds him (which was an indication that he had started to harbor feelings for her).

Ji-hoo angrily throws the toy in the trash and says, “I feel like I’m being abandoned.” Seo-hyun tries to tell him gently, “If there’s anything here I can’t leave, it’s you.”

Ji-hoo tells her not to lie; she responds that if it was a lie, she wouldn’t have been so bothered to see him looking at somebody else: Jan-di. She admits, “When you went running to her, I found my heart falling with a thump. Isn’t that funny?”

Ji-hoo accuses her of treating him as a toy, and argues that he’d spent the past fifteen years looking only at her, “And that’s not enough? I’m a man too.” Seo-hyun hugs him, and apologizes.

As they pull apart, Ji-hoo kisses her. (And Han Chae-young again proves she can’t kiss worth a damn onscreen. Oy, this scene is painfully awkward at points. If the earlier Jun-pyo & Jan-di argument was an example of great, intense chemistry, here we have an example of… well, uncomfortable non-chemistry.)

Jan-di arrives at the doorway to see the kiss. She retreats, closing the door quietly, then starts to beat her head into the wall. Jun-pyo calls from behind her, “If you collapse here, it’ll be really embarrassing.”

Hearing the others moving inside the room, Jan-di hurries away from the door, but not quickly enough to escape being seen. She pretends she just arrived to spare everyone the embarrassment of mentioning the kiss.

Seo-hyun mentions that she and Ji-hoo are on their way out for a drive, and invites Jan-di along. Not wanting to be the third wheel, Jan-di stutters no thanks, and Jun-pyo answers smoothly, “We’re on our way somewhere too.”

Relieved to be given an exit strategy, Jan-di jumps to agree. To make the “act” more convincing, Jun-pyo puts his arm around her, which Ji-hoo notices with… interest?

When they’re out of earshot, Jun-pyo tells Jan-di that this act of kindness makes them even; he has now paid her back for saving him from the pool. Jan-di protests that they are in no way comparable acts, and concedes that this is worth perhaps 10% of a payback. Jun-pyo: “Fifty percent.” Jan-di: “Twenty-five.”

Jun-pyo takes Jan-di to a fancy bar, which is empty of patrons because he bought the place for the night. It’s a romantic gesture, but Jun-pyo tells her in his typical (unsentimental) way that she can shout or cry or do whatever she wants.

Jan-di wonders why she would do any of that, and Jun-pyo reminds her of the kiss she witnessed. Morosely, Jan-di says she is no competition against Seo-hyun: “I’m not pretty, I’m not smart, my family is poor…” “Your figure’s not that great either,” Jun-pyo adds, “and your temper’s bad too.”

She retorts, “Fine. How can such a worthless person like me be jealous of her? I don’t even have a right to feel jealous.”

Jun-pyo says matter-of-factly that she’s right about not being that special, “But you’re not worthless. You have a right.” He continues, saying that if Ji-hoo had met her before Seo-hyun, he’d have liked her. Sure, her looks and her family circumstances suck, “But you’re the first girl the Almighty Jun-pyo has acknowledged.”

A heartbeat starts pounding loudly. It’s unclear whose it is, but I think it could be either of them — or, more probably, both. Suddenly feeling overheated, Jun-pyo excuses himself to the men’s room, where he fans his face. Outside, Jan-di does the same, then reaches for a class of clear liquid and gulps it down.

By the time Jun-pyo comes back, she’s totally wasted, her head lolling around like it’s too heavy for her neck. Impatiently, he prods her: “Hey, come on, woman!”

That word (woman) gets Jan-di’s attention, and she slurs back, “Yeah, I’m a woman. Can’t a commoner be a woman too? My family, my looks, and my brain suck, I know. Even if you didn’t point it out so clearly, I already know, got it, punk?”

Now Jun-pyo’s amused. Jan-di continues rambling about her woes — her family, money. Suddenly, she jerks up and starts laughing ruefully, saying, “I’m sad today.” She pats his face (slaps it, more like) affectionately, and concedes, “All right, let’s say you’ve paid me back fifty percent.”

She continues, “Thanks, Gu Jun-pyo, for saving me today. I can’t do anything for you, but instead…”

And she learns forward… grabs him by the lapels… and smacks her lips together.

Jun-pyo waits to see what she’ll do, and she smiles at him… and vomits all over his suit.

Jan-di awakens in the morning in a strange bed in a strange room.

Upon seeing Jun-pyo sitting nearby, she immediately jumps to conclusions and demands to know why she’s here. He reminds her of the night’s events, and the details start to flash back to her. He brought her home after the bar, and called her parents to let them know. She hangs her head, embarrassed, and mumbles her thanks.

Jan-di would leave if she could, but Jun-pyo is alerted to his mother’s return home. We get the sense that this is an unusual occurrence. Today, she’s here to host a charity auction that evening. Anticipating Jun-pyo’s reaction, Mom has ordered her men to watch over him to keep him from leaving the house — which now means that Jan-di can’t leave without being seen, either.

Jun-pyo panics and immediately calls F4 for help. The friends join Jan-di and Jun-pyo to try to brainstorm a way out of this, knowing that Mom’s reaction will be fearful to behold if she were to somehow find out the truth — not only is there a strange girl with Jun-pyo, but she’s a poor, nameless, insignificant commoner to boot.

Jan-di is dressed up in one of the fancy dresses to be auctioned off that night, and the F4 friends do their best to pass her off as a new friend. Naturally she’s from a rich and prestigious family.

Mom is coolly polite, and inquires about her family background, prompting the F4 guys to jump in and fill in the details, describing Jan-di’s father as a businessman in the fashion industry. Ji-hoo puts his arm on her shoulder and says Jan-di’s like their “F4 mascot.” (Yeah, I dare anybody to use that on a parent and see how well that works. “Mascot,” indeed!)

Thankfully, the questioning is kept short. Just as Mom seems ready to sharpen her interrogation, she is called away, and tells everyone to join her downstairs for the auction.

The first item for auction is a pair of Olympic gold medalist Park Tae-hwan’s goggles. Jan-di’s mouth drops open as the bidding climbs up from an opening bid of 500,000 won (approximately $365) and skyrockets into the millions. Jun-pyo notices her reaction as a phone bid wins the goggles for 10 million won ($7,500).

The auction continues. Jun-pyo models his suit, followed by Jan-di modeling her dress (albeit reluctantly).

Mom eyes her with suspicion and asks her secretary, Mr. Jung, if he recognizes the girl. The man does remember her as the “Wonder Woman” who was given the Shinhwa scholarship. But unlike Mom, he’s got a heart and chooses, for now, to lie and say that all he knows is that she’s supposedly a student at Shinhwa High School. She orders him to look into the girl’s background.

After the auction, Jan-di thanks Jun-pyo again, somewhat grudgingly. Jun-pyo pretends not to hear, and forces her to repeat it twice.

It’s rather cute, actually, how he calls her “Jan-di baht,” which means “grassy lawn.” He tosses her a package and says, “Don’t drink when I’m not around.” (No doubt he wants to keep her from kissing other guys under the influence.)

After he leaves, Jan-di opens the bag to find the auctioned swimming goggles in the bag.

At home, her family oohs and ahhs over the acquisition, and urges her to sell them online since they’re worth a lot. Jan-di’s unwilling to part with them, though, and fumbles around for an excuse, saying that the goggles are worth “so much more than money” and shouldn’t be sold. She also distracts her parents so she can grab back the goggles, then runs off hoarding her prize.

Alone in her room, Jan-di opens her desk drawer. As though to show us how much this means, the space formerly used to hold Ji-hoo’s handkerchief is now given to the goggles. (Oh! The! Symbolism! Let me hit you with it.)

The next day, Jan-di has a visitor: It’s Seo-hyun (wearing a fur bib), here to say her last goodbyes, since she’s leaving the next day. Stunned to hear how suddenly she’s moving away, Jan-di tries to express her thanks.

Seo-hyun tells her, “I knew from the first time I saw you that you were the girl Ji-hoo always talked about with a smile.”

Speaking of whom, Ji-hoo spots Seo-hyun’s car outside and heads toward the pool, just in time to see Jan-di fall to her knees in front of Seo-hyun.

Jan-di explains that she’d been her fan for a long time, and understands her decision. “But let me ask a favor. Please don’t leave.”

Jan-di: “I know I don’t have a right to ask such a favor of you, but if I don’t ask…”
Seo-hyun: “Is it because of Ji-hoo?”
Jan-di: “I don’t know anything about him. But I know how special you are to him. He looks so sad to me, but there are times when he smiles, warmly enough to melt the heart of anyone who sees. You’re the only one who can make him smile. If you leave like this, he may not smile again.”

Seo-hyun explains that her decision is “like buying something in a foreign country. If you don’t buy it right then, there’s no next chance. I know too well how cruel that regret can be. Ji-hoo is dear to me, and I believe I am to him. That’s why I think he wouldn’t want me to face that regret.”

Subdued, Jan-di apologizes. Seo-hyun assures her, “No, I’m glad to hear you talk like that. Thank you.” She takes out a strappy set of heels and gives them to Jan-di: “I hope these shoes will take you to good places. I have something to ask you, too. Please make Ji-hoo smile again.”

When Jan-di walks out, Ji-hoo confronts her, asking angrily, “Who do you think you are to do that? Who asked you to make that kind of favor? It’s not even a favor, it’s begging. Don’t you have any pride?”

Jan-di: “It’s not because I have no pride. It’s because you looked so pained, like you’d die of sadness.”
Ji-hoo: “What is that to you? It has nothing to do with you. Get lost.”


COMMENTS

Like I said, some really nice moments — and then some really bad ones. It pains me to say this, but I think the weak link here is not actually the acting, but the directing. I had such great hopes because PD Jeon Ki-sang was a director I really liked after falling in love with his style in Delightful Girl Chun-hyang. I’d hoped Witch Amusement was a fluke in his resumé, but now I’m wondering if in fact Chun-hyang was the fluke, and the cheesy gimmickry of Witch Amusement is in fact his norm. Or perhaps he just had a really talented young assistant director working for him in the past, who isn’t with him now? The weird pacing of scenes, the horrible music (that grating electric guitar, for instance), the awkward framing of shots… It feels like this drama is being filmed by Garry Marshall (the later years).

On the other hand, more goodness from Lee Min-ho, and Gu Hye-sun! (Whenever she’s not being too cute.) They, more than anything else, are definitely going to carry this drama (which I suppose is the point).

EPISODE 4 RECAP

After Ji-hoo yells at Jan-di for interfering, she walks off with tears in her eyes. He looks upset with himself, but the next day, when everyone gathers at the airport to send Seo-hyun off, Ji-hoo is conspicuously absent.

Jan-di is in a mopey mood, thinking of Ji-hoo. She asks Jun-pyo in a dejected voice, “Can I ask you something?” Jun-pyo responds, “If I said no, are you going to not ask?” Referring to her (formerly assertive) attitude, he tells her, “Just act like you did before. This doesn’t suit you.” For what it’s worth, Jun-pyo has said this a couple times before, which I think is telling — he might complain about how she always talks back but that’s obviously why he likes her. He’s got no use for weak, defeated girls.

Jan-di asks if it’s a good idea to “push down your feelings and not show any emotion” when you like somebody a lot. He tells her that’s crap; it’s the same as ignoring them. If the earth caved in the next day, wouldn’t she die of regret?

A little surprised, Jan-di responds, “You know, you may not be an idiot in everything.” He acts as though that’s a compliment, and says he’d rather regret doing something than regret not doing something.

Seo-hyun says her goodbyes to F4 (I suppose it’s F3 right now), and it’s nice to see them acting like longtime friends. She hugs Jan-di and asks her to remember her request (to make Ji-hoo smile again).

As she walks to her gate, she looks around, hoping to see Ji-hoo and disappointed when he doesn’t appear.

Just as the guys sigh that Ji-hoo’s acting pretty cold by not coming, he appears. He’s actually been here for hours.

Jan-di thinks Ji-hoo’s being a coward, and takes him to task: “What are you doing? Is this all you can do? Follow her!”

At that, Ji-hoo produces his ticket and passport: “I’m taking the next flight.” Woo-bin wonders what made him change his mind; Ji-hoo says that Jan-di did.

Before leaving, Ji-hoo turns to Jan-di: “Thank you. It’s because of you that I realized I’d have to be honest. You taught me that sometimes you need the courage to hang on. I’m glad I got to know a girl like you.”

He leans forward and kisses her on the forehead — Jun-pyo watches, bothered — then leaves.

Afterward, Jun-pyo and Jan-di stand outside his car, watching airplanes take off. He breaks the silence by facing her, leaning over her to say something. Unlike the last time he tried (and failed) to kiss her, this time her heart starts pounding.

Jun-pyo: “I’m only going to say this once, so listen up.” She nods nervously, and he continues: “Geum Jan-di, ___ with me.”

And just when he says that bit, a plane flies above and drowns out his words. BWAHAHA. (I think he says, “Go out with me,” but we can’t be sure.)

Jan-di blinks uncomprehendingly, not having heard those crucial words. But Jun-pyo straightens and smiles in satisfaction to himself.

So while it’s no surprise to us, it is to her when Jun-pyo walks up to her in the lunchroom and says, without preamble: “Saturday, 4 pm, in front of Namsan Tower.”

He starts to leave, then turns back: “If you’re even one minute late, you’re dead.”

Jan-di looks after him, a little confused but mostly unimpressed with his high-handedness. She doesn’t notice that Min-ji is looking on with a stricken expression on her face.

Since Jun-pyo doesn’t give Jan-di any chance to respond, she dismisses it from her mind, going shopping with her mother instead on a bargain-sale hunt. And I do mean hunt. They grapple with other thrift-loving ajummas for the massive discounts, and by the time they leave, it’s evening. It’s also snowing.

Feeling guilty pangs for ignoring Jun-pyo, Jan-di asks her mother if anyone would wait in the snow for four hours for a promise that was never made. Her mom says that’s crazy, but Jan-di isn’t reassured. Making a sudden decision, she tells her mother she has to go somewhere and runs off, heading toward Namsan Tower.

Jan-di looks almost disappointed to find the courtyard empty, until she spots Jun-pyo huddled on the side, shivering in the cold.

She holds her umbrella over his head; he asks where the hell she’s been: “Didn’t I tell you not to be late?” He isn’t outright angry — irritated might be a better word. Jan-di returns, “When did I say I would come?” He replies, “You’re here.”

She protests, because she wasn’t intending to come. He persists, “But you did.”

Feeling bad, she offers to buy him a hot drink and helps him up. He staggers to his feet and leans heavily into her. Misinterpreting his intentions, she kicks him to get him off.

Indoors, she buys him coffee from a vending machine and calls it “thirty thousand won coffee” (about twenty bucks). By way of explanation, she tells him to follow along.

On top of the building, they look at the cityscape from the observation deck — this is just like watching from the expensive Sky Lounge.

She marvels at all the stars. Jun-pyo laughs at her, “Those aren’t stars, those are satellites, you stupid girl!” Jan-di retorts, “Aren’t you the idiot? You think there are that many satellites?”

The watchman comes up to the doors to lock up for the night. He only gives the deck a cursory look and is distracted by a phone call, so he misses the two of them.

The lights shut off, alerting Jan-di and Jun-pyo, and they hurry to the doors. The handles have been chained together, and there’s no way to get out.

Jun-pyo doesn’t panic, since they can always call for help. Unfortunately, he left his phone behind, and Jan-di doesn’t own one.

Now worried, he blames her; she says it’s his fault for waiting foolishly for hours. He protests, “This is the first time I’ve ever waited for anyone.”

They wander into an enclosed area, which offers a little shelter but is still freezing cold. Jan-di tries to keep her distance while Jun-pyo starts to cough, and says, “Sorry.” When she asks where his driver is, Jun-pyo answers that he sent him home — he wanted to try things commoner-style.

Shivering, Jun-pyo asks, “Can I be honest?” She eyes him warily as Jun-pyo leans in her direction, then collapses on top of her.

Thinking he’s trying to get fresh, Jan-di shoves him aside, then realizes he’s burning up with fever.

She takes out some of her new purchases — a woman’s scarf and shawl — and wraps him with them. They fall asleep like that until morning, when they are let out.

Fearing her parents’ reaction, Jan-di declines Jun-pyo’s offer of a ride home; she’ll use the bus ride to think of an excuse to tell her mother.

Jun-pyo moves closer to tell her the excuse he’d make: “Since we spent the night together, I’ll take responsibility.” (That phrase, used in that context, is misleading and suggests that something actually DID happen between them. Jan-di kicks him in response.)

Unbeknownst to them, they are seen, and photos are taken.

When she gets home, Jan-di falls on her knees and begs forgiveness, but her family is in fantastic spirits. The guy she saved is the heir to Shinhwa Group! Of all the people to help!

Furthermore, they’ve received a whole slew of gifts in gratitude. Jan-di is bewildered — how did they know? Where did this come from?

Her parents rave about Jun-pyo, who dropped by — taking advantage of her slow bus ride home, no doubt — to ask them not to scold Jan-di because she’d been helping him all night.

News spreads quickly, labeling Jan-di as Jun-pyo’s new girlfriend. Suddenly, everyone is eager to befriend Jan-di (except the mean girls, that is), and the unexplained attention creeps her out.

Jan-di discovers the reason when she comes to the TV screen in the lobby. Displayed onscreen are the pictures of her and Jun-pyo that morning, making them look a lot chummier than they are. When the F4 guys arrive, Yi-jung asks Jun-pyo if the rumors are true.

Jan-di hurriedly insists, “No, it’s not! It’s not what you think at all!”

Jun-pyo ruins that by interrupting, “Yes, it’s true.” Everyone gasps in amazement, and Jun-pyo slings an arm around her shoulders and steers her (unwillingly) down the hall. The students gossip in excitement, with one notable exception: Min-ji, who watches tearily.

Min-ji goes home early that day, so Jan-di drops by with the same consolatory stuffed sheep that Min-ji had previously given her. Withdrawn and depressed, Min-ji asks cautiously if the gossip is true.

Jan-di hesitates, then answers that it’s all a coincidence and an accident. Min-ji says, “But it looked like he liked you.” Jan-di says no way — even the idea is absurd. Jun-pyo was just playing around. At the denial, Min-ji laughs in relief, suddenly much cheerier. She hops out of bed and announces that she’s all better now. She wants to go out and have some fun.

While Jan-di waits for Min-ji to get ready, she looks around and spots a Shinhwa Kindergarten yearbook. Curious, she pulls it from the shelf just as Min-ji walks in. Panicking, she grabs it from Jan-di, yelling at her not to go through other people’s things.

Taken aback to see this side of the normally demure Min-ji, Jan-di apologizes. Min-ji recovers, saying more calmly that she’d written weird comments in the book, so she doesn’t want anyone to read them. She apologizes.

Whereas Woo-bin and Yi-jung took a lot of amusement in Jun-pyo’s clashes with Jan-di, now they ask more seriously if he’s “for real” about her. Yi-jung reminds him that where they’re concerned, their parents have final say in their relationships.

Jun-pyo scoffs, as this is a bit weak coming from two supposed players:

Jun-pyo: “Were you just calling yourselves men in name? Were you acting all cocky without being real men?”
Yi-jung: “What’s a real man to you?”
Jun-pyo: “A man takes responsibility from the beginning to the end.”
Woo-bin: “To the end?”
Jun-pyo: “Yeah. To the end.”

Min-ji takes Jan-di to a club featuring live performers and suggests they dance. Jan-di declines, so she sits out while Min-ji goes out on the floor. When Min-ji looks back, she sees Jan-di wandering around, and is bumped by another woman.

Unexpectedly, Min-ji slaps the girl. Suddenly she’s no longer sweet and shy, but a stone-cold bitch. She sneers, “If you’re ugly, you should at least dance well.”

Worried about Jun-pyo’s latest comments, Yi-jung drops by the restaurant looking for Jan-di. Ga-eul tells him Jan-di’s not working today, so he asks if she’s her friend, and how long they’ve known each other.

At her answer (“Since kindergarten”), he smiles and figures that’s good enough: “So you’re best friends. Then let’s go.”

At his pottery studio, Yi-jung explains that he’s afraid that Jan-di will get hurt, and asks Ga-eul to advise her friend. Initially dazzled by the tall, handsome, rich guy, Ga-eul’s opinion drops once she gets his drift: “What kind of advice? That she can’t climb that tree, so don’t bother trying?”

Yi-jung ups the charisma, smiling at her and saying that cute girls like her are scary when angry. She sees through the charm and tells him that he must have thought he could fool everyone with his pretty face, but he misjudged her. She’ll pretend this conversation never happened.

Ga-eul gets up to leave, but stops and comes back for one last word, temper flaring. After all, Jun-pyo’s the one who likes Jan-di, not the other way around: “Jan-di doesn’t care to climb that tree.”

As she’s exiting, she runs into Woo-bin, who wonders what that’s all about. Yi-jung says it’s nothing, and that she’s exactly the type of girl he dislikes (backwards and unfashionable). And yet, his eyes say otherwise…

Jan-di roams the club, feeling bored and out of place. She encounters one of the performers, who senses her discomfort and suggests they head outside, where he plays her a song on his guitar. (I don’t think she really cares for the stranger, but appreciates the reprieve from the club.)

Seeing that her water bottle is empty, the guy hands her his. She sips the water, her vision goes blurry, and she blacks out.

In the morning, Jan-di awakens in an unfamiliar hotel room with no recollection of the night before. On the mirror, written in lipstick are the words, “Thanks for last night.”

She frets all morning about those words, trying to convince herself that nothing happened, wondering why she can’t remember anything.

Of course, this is also the day that Jun-pyo decides to make a little change in his appearance. He remembers Jan-di’s rant against him, when she said she hated “everything about him” from his curly hair to the fact that F4 always dresses in normal clothes when the rest of them are required to wear uniforms.

So that morning, he takes an extra two hours to get ready, wearing his uniform for once and having his hair straightened.

Jan-di is accosted by students, but whereas her reception the day before was sycophantic, today the Bimbo Threesome are furious at her for insulting Jun-pyo and therefore, by extension, everyone at the school.

Jan-di is totally baffled at their attitude until they drag her to the television. On it, photos are splashed of herself and the strange guy from the night before — in bed, half-clothed.

F4 arrives to see Jan-di surrounded by hostile faces, and Jun-pyo steps forward to defend her. Ginger tells him, “Don’t be fooled! Look at this and come to your senses!” And she points at the TV.

Jun-pyo glances over. Jan-di jumps in front of the screen, trying to block it and insist that it’s all a misunderstanding. He pushes her away and stares grimly at the photos, then turns to her: “What kind of mistake could lead to these pictures?”

Jan-di shakes her head, confused, and says, “I think someone set up a trap for me.” In a hard voice, he asks, “Was this all you were?”

Hurt that he’s so quick to condemn her, Jan-di fires back with tears in her eyes, “I don’t care whether you believe me or not. I don’t even know why I have to explain such an absurd situation to you. But this isn’t the truth.”

Jun-pyo grabs her shirt and clenches his jaw. He says in a low voice, “I’ll just ask one thing. Is the girl in that picture you?” Jan-di can’t say no, and a tear falls.

He shoves her back and glowers, “You said you didn’t care whether I believe you or not. You’re right. Geum Jan-di, from here on, I don’t know who you are.”

After he leaves, the mob descends on Jan-di, but you get the sense she doesn’t really care — the damage has been done with Jun-pyo’s dismissal of her.

Jun-pyo’s fury is so extreme that his friends worry about him, never having seen him so upset about anything before. They decide that they’d better get to the bottom of this before someone winds up seriously hurt, and head over to solve the mystery.

Woo-bin, Yi-jung, Ga-eul, and Jan-di look closely at the photos and ask if Jan-di can remember anything odd about the night before. Jan-di recalls the message scrawled in lipstick, which is odd, since it wasn’t hers. Why would a guy be carrying lipstick around?

Furthermore, the way the pictures are shot requires a third person to have taken them, which means there was somebody else involved. The guys take note of the mystery man’s tattoo, and use a combination of their brains and lots of money to get information.

The music club owner isn’t as helpful as they’d like, so the guys use a form of polite blackmail. If they aren’t pleased with the guy’s cooperation, they might as well run him out of business. Yi-jung: “Two weeks should do it.” Woo-bin: “We’ve got our reputation. We’ll have to make it a week.”

Woo-bin owns the neighboring building, which would make a nice venue to set up a competitor to drive this guy bankrupt.

What follows is some of the most ridiculous tomfoolery I ever did saw. To prove their point, Yi-jung displays some of his saxophone skills (to prove they’d be willing and able to make good on their threat). So now the pottery genius is also Kenny G? Look, I ignored the atrocity that is Ji-hoo’s violin-playing, but here I cannot remain silent. THAT’S NOT EVEN THE RIGHT KIND OF SAXOPHONE.

Woo-bin does his part by dancing… is that the Charleston? To cha-cha music?

Naturally, the two guys are successful. (Oh, the power of elevator jazz and ballroom dance!) They track down the guy in no time.



On the other hand, Jun-pyo is still working out his aggression. First it was guns, now it’s a sword.

Min-ji shows up unannounced to hand him a hotel key, which leads him to the room where Jan-di’s photos were taken.

The photos are piled in the center of the bed. Jun-pyo recognizes the familiar setting in the pictures, and his temper erupts. He throws things around the room — pillows, bedcovers, sheets — and after his tantrum, Min-ji steps into the room and tells him, “Please don’t be hurt. It’s ridiculous for you to be like this over a bitch like her.”

Min-ji appeals to Jun-pyo to calm down, saying this is too unfair for him to be so hurt over Jan-di.

Glaring at her with contempt, Jun-pyo grabs her and asks, “Weren’t you her friend? Can a friend talk like that?”

Min-ji whispers, “She stole you from me.”

Jun-pyo shoves her to the ground and heads to the door. Min-ji grabs him from behind and begs him not to go. He breaks free of her grasp and she cries, “Why her, but not me?”

He walks away, remembering Jan-di’s insistence that she was set up and that this is all a misunderstanding.

At school, it’s a free-for-all as Jan-di is knocked from her bike and jeered at. It’s like she’s come full circle, back to how she was tormented as a result of the red card, only this time the harassment is more malicious because she dared make a fool of the Great Jun-pyo.

Jan-di yells back at them, “Is this all you can do? Do more! Go on!” So they do, pelting her with water balloons shooting a fire hydrant at her, till she collapses on the ground.


COMMENTS

I think it’s obvious that the characters show some differences from previous versions. Do you think we could maybe get past that now, since we’re four episodes in?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not decrying comparison-making — I think comparisons are fair. But if half of the comments are purely “This is different from the Japanese/Taiwanese version!” I think the discussion starts becoming irrelevant to this drama itself, which is what I’m more interested in. Gu Jun-pyo is based on Doumyouji, but it’s clear his character diverges in some key points. He is a little thick-headed, but he’s not as blatantly stupid as Matsumoto Jun’s portrayal. He’s not as violent or hot-headed, either. This Jun-pyo is cold, hard, and can be cruel, but he’s not a cartoon character.

Kim Joon is doing really well as a Casanova, but Kim Bum, I think, is hampered by his baby face, which makes it odd to see him hitting on women who are clearly much, much older than him. It’s not the acting that is his problem, just the contrast between his appearance and his behavior. That’s why I was happy to see that he has good chemistry with Kim So-eun (Ga-eul), because she’s age-appropriate and was cast (most likely) with him in mind. She’s also a pretty good actor, and their scenes hold up well. Phew!

Also, he does much better in scenes that have no romantic overtones, such as when he coerced the club owner into giving up information. Nice to see a flash of the Kim Bum I’d been excited to see, because he hasn’t really shown much of his actual acting ability so far.

Jan-di’s bike is set on fire, while she is assaulted with water balloons and blasted with a fire extinguisher. Seriously, are these Shinhwa kids all sociopaths? Regular bullying and taunting is bad enough, but they seem to be particularly malicious — like in Episode 1, when everyone watched the guy about to commit suicide and found it entertaining.

After being spurned by Jun-pyo and abused by her classmates, Jan-di tries to maintain a fierce exterior but is near her breaking point. She thinks to herself, “Please stop. Help me.” That plea is directed at Ji-hoo, since he’d come to her rescue several times in the past. She knows he can’t save her now, but pleads internally, “Nobody’s coming. But still… please…”

But she is not alone, because she has Jun-pyo! He bursts in on the scene, furiously shoving her tormenters away and beating them up (rather violently, I might add).

Jun-pyo kneels and takes Jan-di into his arms, saying, “I’m sorry.” Picking her up, he walks away from the now-subdued crowd.

Jan-di, thinking of the hotel pictures, tells him, “I didn’t do it, really.” He tells her, “It doesn’t matter. So keep your mouth shut.” She mumbles, “You still don’t believe me, do you?” Jun-pyo, looking upset with himself, says, “I do, I believe you!”

(I’m a little annoyed at how they took this potentially great scene and totally ruined it with ridiculous cheesy music. It’s so tragic and heartbroken, you’d think they both found out they had cancer or something. With 90 days left to live. And are also siblings.)

Back at his mansion, Jun-pyo insists on tending to her wounds himself. When she tries to take over, he asks, “Wanna sit still, or wanna be tied up?” (Why Jun-pyo, you say that like it’s a bad thing.)

Now that she’s safe, they can get back to their mating dance bickering: he reproaches her for not learning from the past and letting herself be bullied, saying she must have the learning ability of an orangutan. They argue some more until he takes a towel to wipe Jan-di’s face, and his heart starts pounding.

Rattled, Jun-pyo shoves the towel in her face and tells her to do it, then walks outside, where he clutches his heart and takes a deep breath. (So. Sweet.)

After tracing the guy in the photos to Oh Min-ji (who masterminded the plan), Yi-jung and Woo-bin now deliver Min-ji to Jun-pyo, along with her kindergarten yearbook. Inside, Min-ji’s picture has been scratched out, which takes them to a kindergarten flashback to explain why Min-ji would have done such a thing:

Cute Little Ji-hoo — wearing all white, of course! — is playing the violin, and faking it just as badly as Grown-up Ji-hoo. Little Yi-jung is playing with clay, and Little Woo-bin is counting his fake money with the board game Life. HA.

But they don’t have anything on Little Jun-pyo, who is OMG so adorable. And also afraid of bugs. Attacked by a buzzing insect, he tries to shoo it away, when Min-ji joins in and swats at the bug with her sketchbook. She assures Jun-pyo that the bug is gone now and looks at him hopefully. He catches a glimpse of the page she’d been drawing, which shows a couple labeled with their names. (She’s supposed to be ugly, which they’ve enhanced with makeup and freckles.)

Offended, Little Jun-pyo throws the sketchbook down and stomps on it. He demands, “How dare an ugly thing like you consider me for a husband?” It’s kind of weird hearing such harsh words come out of the mouth of babes, but I suppose that’s the point; he tells her to get lost, that he will never like her.

Min-ji recounts how that after that day, she was ashamed to be seen. She ended up going to Germany and underwent multiple surgeries and intense pain: “Do you know how I put up with it? That look on your face. The look when you ran away from me like I was some bug or a monster. I haven’t forgotten a moment.”

Jun-pyo has been eyeing Min-ji with cold contempt, but at this, he says, “I don’t remember, but I’m sorry for it.” Min-ji protests, “No! That’s not it. The words I want to hear from you aren’t that you’re sorry!”

Crying now, she approaches Jun-pyo: “Look at me. Aren’t I pretty? I’ve become so pretty. Don’t you want me? I came back for you. This is the moment I’ve been dreaming of. Tell me you want me!”

Coolly, Jun-pyo responds, “I feel sorry for you. Do you know why? You’re still a monster, like you were then. No — you’re worse now. The kid back then still had a good heart.”

(GREAT SCENE. Lee Shi-young as Min-ji is very good, showing how she’s been twisted as a result of the trauma without being over-the-top eeeevil, and the whole exchange is well-played. For those of us who’ve started thinking Jun-pyo is all warm and fuzzy, this is a great reminder that even if he’s not wrong, he can still be so cold as to be cruel. I suppose this means that it’s not as though Jun-pyo is exceptionally cruel to Min-ji when he’s normally so warm; it’s the reverse — he’s exceptionally warm with Jan-di when he’s normally so cold-hearted.)

Jan-di’s been put in a spare room and wears his pajamas. Jun-pyo has taken the liberty of calling her parents (if she went home in her condition, they’d freak out) and throwing away her clothes. She shouts at him for getting rid of perfectly mendable clothing, at which he claps a hand over her mouth and says, “It sounds like you ate the heart of a train.” She corrects his misspoken adage: “It’s a train smokestack!” (He laughs that she’s wrong — you can’t eat a smokestack!)

There’s a moment when he leans over Jan-di, freaking her out, but it turns out he’s not making a pass but grabbing the first aid kit. Again, he tends to her injuries.

By the time he’s done patching her up, Jan-di has fallen asleep. He tucks her in, then leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead.

After he leaves, Jan-di opens her eyes.

In the morning, Jan-di awakens to find the staff at her disposal. Jun-pyo has ordered his butler to find exact replicas of everything that had been thrown away, with the exception of one thing: her bicycle.

Unable to find the exact same model, the butler parades a whole roomful of bicycles out for her appraisal. She tries them out with excitement, but then sees the price tag: 18 million won ($13,000). Her bike was much, much cheaper and very ordinary.

To encourage her to accept the expensive gift, the butler diplomatically asks her to be tolerant of the difference (like it’s doing HIM a favor) because they couldn’t find the exact match.

While Jan-di eats (a lavish, gourmet) breakfast, Jun-pyo pays a visit to Jan-di’s place.

The family is thrilled (and flustered) to receive him, and serve him a very plain breakfast. The foods are common, everyday dishes, but the Almighty Jun-pyo has never eaten anything like it, and he tries them cautiously after inspecting each one quizzically.

At school, the fickle crowd embraces Jan-di again, since (1) Jun-pyo came to her rescue and (2) there’s a new target to gang up on: Min-ji. The Catty Trio (Hateful Threesome? Evil Troika? Wicked Wenches? Vicious Bishes?) crowd Jan-di, faking concern over how much Min-ji hurt her. They rip on Min-ji for her surgeries, saying, “If I looked like her, I would’ve killed myself already.”

Not amused, Jan-di turns to them and points out, “You guys buy whatever you want, but beauty doesn’t count? You’ve all done plastic surgery too, but you mock Min-ji for it? It’s okay for pretty girls to use it to be prettier, but not for an ugly person?”

Jan-di turns to leave as Min-ji steps up quietly, eyes lowered: “I won’t ask you to forgive me.” Jan-di slaps her.

Min-ji adds, “I can’t say I’m sorry either.” Jan-di slaps her again and says she shouldn’t expect to be forgiven.

But when Jan-di comes to her desk, she finds the stuffed sheep there bearing a new message: “Jan-di, thanks. Let’s meet again.” Min-ji sings the song Jan-di once sang to make her feel better, which brings a smile to Jan-di’s face.

Jun-pyo has an announcement to make: Jan-di is now officially his girlfriend. The Gin-Sun-Mi trio collapses in disbelief and Jan-di protests, but she’s ignored while the rest of the students clap and hoot.

Jun-pyo adds, “From now on, I’ll take anything you say or do to Jan-di as an act against me, so don’t mess around.”

And then, Ji-hoo makes his reappearance.

Though everyone’s glad to have him back, this puts Jan-di into a gloomy mood. Ga-eul wonders if she’s over Ji-hoo now that Jun-pyo’s in the picture, which Jan-di denies is the reason for her distress. She worries that something feels different about Ji-hoo.

At home, the entire apartment has been crammed full of new appliances and furniture — courtesy of Jun-pyo. The whole family is ecstatic — they even had to turn some of it away because it wouldn’t fit through their doors — but Jan-di finds this wildly inappropriate.

Too enamored of the extravagance, her parents try to justify it through excuses (i.e., returning it looks bad for Jun-pyo, it would be rude), but she’s not having it.

Jan-di storms into the F4 recreation room, which has a few extra female guests today. She yells at Jun-pyo for ordering new things for her family without even telling her, and he completely misses the point by asking, “Was there something you didn’t like? Tell me and I’ll switch it.” After all, he’s her boyfriend.

She retorts, “Are you like that with all your girlfriends? Did you buy them clothes and cars and swap out all their furniture? In a little while you’ll be getting me a new house too, I bet.”

He says thoughtfully, “Actually, I was going to start with the new house, but Mr. Jung stopped me and told me to do it later since it’s attached to the dry cleaner’s.”

Jan-di reminds him, “I told you that you can’t buy friends, that you bond through your feelings. I don’t know how you were with all your previous girlfriends, but stuff like this pisses me off!”

He answers, “I don’t have any previous girlfriends.” At that, Jan-di’s ire deflates, and she says she can let it go this time — but he’d better watch it!

Looking around, Jan-di seems perturbed to see Ji-hoo flirting with a group of girls, although Yi-jung and Jun-pyo think it’s good to see him acting like a person instead of just sleeping all the time.

Sensing that things with Seo-hyun may have not gone well in Paris, Jan-di asks him when he’s going back. He has no plans to.

Asking whether she’s really dating Jun-pyo, Ji-hoo muses, “Was I too late? I was going to ask you to date me.” Jan-di’s shocked, but he smiles and tells her it was a joke. He suggests, “Then what about dating behind Jun-pyo’s back?” which she again takes for real. He laughs that she’s the same as ever, then says, “I missed you” as he leaves.

Jun-pyo sneaks up on Jan-di on her way to her job, laughing to see how excited she is to find a coin on the ground (which he dropped).

Armed with a mysterious mission, Jun-pyo grabs Jan-di and drags her along on an errand, which doesn’t turn out to be an errand so much as it’s a shopping spree. (To ensure that they have the run of the department store, Jun-pyo sets off a fire alarm, which sends everyone running to evacuate and leaves them alone.) He entrusts the next part of his plan to Yi-jung.

I love how seriously Yi-jung bursts in on the restaurant to get Ga-eul. He tells her to hurry; it’s an emergency. Ga-eul guesses, “Has something happened to Jan-di?” She frets over the possibility of an accident, to which Yi-jung tells her grimly, “If we’re late, you might not get to see her. Hurry!”

So when Jan-di and Ga-eul are driven onto the tarmac of a private runway and deposited at a private jet — where F4 awaits — they’re completely baffled. Jun-pyo announces, “We’re going on a trip.”

Jan-di sputters, no way! But what about her parents? How can she leave so suddenly?

Jun-pyo replies, proud of himself, that he’s already gotten her parents’ permission, and to keep them from worrying, he brought along her best friend, too. (He’s even made allowances for her job, providing a staff of modelesque waitresses to replace the girls, who bring in a wave of new customers.)

Jan-di can’t believe he wouldn’t even ask her first, or find out when she can make time for a trip. Jun-pyo responds, “I wanted to go someplace nice together, all the preparations were made, and it’s not like Korea will be in trouble without you. What’s the problem?”

And then, they’re in New Caledonia. It really is gorgeous.

After arriving at the Shinhwa private resort, the group goes sight-seeing and browsing.

Outside one particular shop, Jan-di spies Ji-hoo taking a look at a potted flower. After he leaves, Jan-di takes a closer look, so the flower girl gives it to her with the instructions: “Give it to your lover.” (The scene is kind of random, but I mention it because I suspect it will come into play later…)

The girls wander by a fortune-teller who is purported to be extremely accurate, and have Jan-di’s palm read. The woman foretells, “I see a man. Your future husband.” Not only that, but he’s here with her: “A soulmate.”

Ga-eul thinks that’s great — that means Jan-di will marry her soulmate. But the woman contradicts her, saying, “Two different men” — Jan-di’s soulmate and husband are not the same man.

The woman finishes with one last bit: “You’re losing something important, as a woman.” The girls wonder what that means, then shriek, their minds jumping to (probably) sex.

And then, Jan-di wakes up. It was all a dream!

Still, it’s creepy and realistic, and with the woman’s last words on her mind, Jan-di panics when Jun-pyo takes her away, jumping to the conclusion that he’s just trying to get her alone to make some moves. Jun-pyo asks Yi-jung to watch after Ga-eul, which is how Yi-jung gets reluctantly stuck with her.

Following their initial encounter, I think Yi-jung has convinced himself he dislikes Ga-eul. He sees her posing goofily and disdains that she’s acting like a corny tourist. Undaunted, Ga-eul suggests taking a hike to the top of a hill, which does not interest Yi-jung in the least.

Ga-eul goes off anyway but shortly thereafter lets out a scream. Yi-jung runs after her, looking around worriedly, when Ga-eul appears and asks, “Aren’t you glad you came up here?”

Ga-eul tells Yi-jung that it’s his punishment for lying and tricking them into coming on the trip, to which Yi-jung says that it wasn’t a complete lie. “It seems like it’s just a matter of time before the two of them get into trouble.” (His wording can mean any kind of trouble, but hints at the, er, hormonally driven variety.)

Ga-eul is immediately concerned: “No!” He laughs at her wild imagination.

Meanwhile, Jun-pyo takes Jan-di along a stretch of deserted beach. During the walk, Jan-di imagines all sorts of wild possibilities and warns Jun-pyo not to indulge in any dark, ulterior motives. Thus she is shocked to see him bringing her to a simple, lovely table set for two.

Jun-pyo tells her she acts tough but is pretty shocked at little things. Jan-di: “This is a little thing?” She marvels that it’s like magic: “Are you a genie?” Jun-pyo’s jealousy flares: “Who the hell is he? Is he better than me?” Jan-di clarifies that she meant the genie from Aladdin, who could do almost everything save three things: He couldn’t kill, raise people from the dead, or make someone fall in love against their will.

The last part seems to get through to Jun-pyo, although he’d previously insisted that people could be bought (and his actions all episode long have been proof of that).

Jun-pyo puts in a phone call to Jan-di’s family, who urge her to have a fun time and not worry about them. Afterward, Jun-pyo sees her subdued reaction and wonders, “Did I do something wrong?” It looks like she’s about to cry.

Jan-di answers, “It’s because it’s so nice here. I wondered when my parents would have a chance to come to a place like this. My family would love to see it.” Jun-pyo: “Let’s come with them. We can come back with your family.”

And then, Jun-pyo walks toward the water, unbuttoning his shirt, and announces it’s time to get down to business.


COMMENTS

I think one (perhaps unexpected) problem that may be emerging is that Lee Min-ho is so appealing as Jun-pyo that it kind of renders the love triangle moot. It also makes you want to yell at Jan-di for being drawn toward Ji-hoo at all when he has about one-tenth the charisma of Jun-pyo — plus there’s also the added part about how it’s so obvious that Jun-pyo totally adores her. Sure, his courtship is a little clumsy, and I think she was justified hating him through the first two episodes, but now he’s shown himself to be downright sweet (at times).

On the other hand, the “money can’t buy love” issue is something I’m looking forward to seeing unfold, because it usually gets glossed over in the Cinderella dramas. And as much as Jun-pyo’s actions are well-intentioned (and aww-inducing for us viewers), he really is just throwing money at Jan-di, proud of showing her what his name and wealth can give her. Naturally, she’s impressed at the resort (and the plane, and the clothes), but I don’t think she even sees Jun-pyo for his money; she just sees him as a guy.

EPISODE 6 RECAP

Jun-pyo undresses. Jan-di nervously tells him to cut it out. Laughing at her reaction, Jun-pyo calls her a dummy and heads toward the water in his swim trunks.

Jan-di gets back at him by telling him there’s a snake by his feet, then laughs as Jun-pyo dashes off fearfully, believing her joke.

There’s a really clumsy transition as everyone lazes on the beach. Ga-eul looks out at the water and senses something amiss; she grows more concerned as she shouts Jan-di’s name, which rouses Jun-pyo from his nap.

Jan-di is struggling to remain afloat (in, like, FOUR FEET of water), suffering a muscle cramp. Jun-pyo tries to go after her, but his feet won’t budge in the shallow water. A brief flashback of a body struggling in the water tells us that there’s something traumatic in Jun-pyo’s past that explains why he can’t swim.

Instead, Ji-hoo darts past and swims out to rescue Jan-di. (Based on how far Ji-hoo swims, I think she’s supposed to be out in deeper waters, but the effect is totally ruined when the camera shows the ocean floor, and Jan-di is clearly tall enough to stand above the waterline.)

Ji-hoo brings Jan-di in, and now that she’s safe, Jun-pyo keeps at a distance, upset with himself for not being able to do anything.

Back in Korea, Jun-pyo’s mother asks Mr. Jung what Jun-pyo is up to. (Her name is Kang Hee-soo, but it seems disrespectful to call a Korean mom by her first name — so I’ll be referring to her as Madam Kang, unless someone has a better suggestion.) Feeling sympathetic toward Jun-pyo, Mr. Jung tells her of the weekend trip with F4, leaving the girls out of it.

Awash in self-loathing, Jun-pyo takes to the hot tub alone, and as he slides underwater, a flashback shows Little Jun-pyo flailing in water and crying out for help.

Woo-bin and Yi-jung explain to Jan-di that when Jun-pyo was six, he’d been kidnapped. The car was chased and went into the river — with Jun-pyo in it. Yeah, I think that would do it for me too.

Perhaps compensating for his inability to save Jan-di, Jun-pyo takes extra care with elaborate dinner preparations. He particularly fusses over Jan-di, saying that her muscles cramped because she’s not eating properly; he fills her plate and instructs her to eat up.

Quieter than usual, Ji-hoo leaves the table without eating. Concerned, Jan-di follows him out to the pier, watching as the flower girl from the village hands him a potted flower and tells him to give it to his girlfriend.

At dinner, Yi-jung teases Ga-eul, under the mistaken impression that she likes Jun-pyo. Confused, Ga-eul tells him that’s ridiculous. Referring to their hilltop conversation, Yi-jung asks why she cares so much whether Jan-di and Jun-pyo get into trouble, then. Ga-eul blurts, “That’s because there’s someone else Jan-di li…”

She cuts herself off, but it’s enough for Yi-jung to guess what she was about to say.

More horrible music (are we even surprised anymore?) as the group enjoys the party, until Jun-pyo draws their attention to his specially planned fireworks display. He sneaks a look at Jan-di, then looks away quickly when she glances at him.

Jan-di smiles in appreciation, her good mood lasting until she comes out of her bathroom later that evening to see Jun-pyo unexpectedly in her room. Immediately nervous, she backs away and remembers the psychic’s prediction that she’ll be losing “something important, as a woman.”

But Jun-pyo surprises her by kneeling at her feet and fastening an anklet on her leg. It’s a cheap trinket from the marketplace, but he warns, “It may be cheap but if you lose it, you’re dead.” His tactics may lack a certain finesse, but Jan-di looks touched at the gesture.

Jan-di heads next door to Ga-eul’s room, but when her knock goes unanswered, she wanders the pier. Spotting Ji-hoo alone on the beach, she heads down to talk to him.

Ji-hoo shows her the flower and explains that it means the recipient will be happy, which is why you’re supposed to give it to someone you love. She wonders what happened with Seo-hyun, and he answers, “I realized how pathetic I was. There was nothing for me to do but wait all day in an empty apartment.” Bitterly, he adds: “Do you know what it’s like being nothing but a burden to the woman you love? You called them pathetic fools who can’t do anything on their own.”

Those are the words she flung at him at the airport; he says she was right, and other than loving one woman (“like a habit”), “I don’t know how to do anything. I’m pathetic.”

Ji-hoo offers the flower to Jan-di. Knowing what that symbolizes, she declines it. She says it’s meant for Seo-hyun, but I think part of her is thinking of Jun-pyo, and she turns to leave.

Ji-hoo grabs her arm and whirls her around in a hug. “It’s so cold, I can’t take it.”

After a moment, Jan-di draws back and walks away, flustered.

She hurries back to her room, outside which Jun-pyo is waiting, worried that something happened to her. As soon as he sees her, he scolds her for going off without notice.

Feeling guilty, Jan-di tells him, “I’m sorry.” Jun-pyo tells her not to swim or go off on walks alone, and leaves Jan-di to brood about her encounter with Ji-hoo.

Back on the beach, Ji-hoo picks up her anklet from the sand (which Jan-di doesn’t realize is missing until morning).

Jun-pyo, however, sees it on Ji-hoo’s wrist at breakfast. He grabs his arm to take a closer look, but covers up his alarm and doesn’t elaborate.

Trying not to jump to conclusions, Jun-pyo notices Jan-di isn’t wearing her anklet and asks where it went. Nervously, Jan-di lies that she left it in her room, since he’d give her hell if she lost it. He doesn’t really believe her but tries to let it go

Later, however, when the guys are having fun in an energetic game of volleyball, Jun-pyo asks Ji-hoo what’s up with the bracelet. Ji-hoo hands it over and tells him, “It’s Jan-di’s. She must have dropped it last night. Return it to her.”

At this proof that Jan-di met Ji-hoo last night — and worse, she lied — Jun-pyo is shaken so badly that he loses all concentration in the game.

Completely distracted as he puts together her lies, Jun-pyo doesn’t react when the ball hurtles toward him. It hits him in the face, bloodying his nose. He mumbles that he’s fine and stumbles away drunkenly, walking into the net before managing to head off to wash up.

(I suppose this is to show us how shocked he is, but come on — he’s heartbroken, not drug-addled.)

As he takes in the situation, Jun-pyo’s dazed reaction turns dark, and he sets off to find Ji-hoo, who is paddling calmly out to sea in a kayak. Jun-pyo grabs another one and paddles madly to catch up.

When he reaches him, for a moment it’s uncertain how he’ll act, but Jun-pyo passes him like this is some kind of heated race with no finish line. Maybe it is. Perhaps Ji-hoo figures it’s better to avoid provoking a confrontation, but I think it’s pretty wimpy for him to turn around silently and head back to shore.

When Jun-pyo turns around to see Ji-hoo paddling away, he throws his paddle in frustration.

I guess all that exertion wears out his anger, because the next thing we know they’re both back on the shore and nobody’s beaten to a pulp. While Jun-pyo sleeps, Jan-di finds Ji-hoo preparing a sailboat to head out for some fishing. He invites her along and (ignoring my repeated exclamations of “DON’T GO YOU IDIOT”) she goes.

Ga-eul is starting to find Yi-jung’s persistent attention aggravating (which I’m sure none of us understands, eh?), so when he finds her on the beach, she hurries away. To a TWO-PERSON BOAT. Good intention, but maybe you oughtta work on unmixing those messages.

Yi-jung hops aboard and brings up Ga-eul’s comment last night, asking about the guy Jan-di likes. He doesn’t seem too worried about it, since he’s fairly certain Jan-di’s type leans toward bad boys: namely, Jun-pyo.

Ga-eul retorts that the guy Jan-di likes might turn out to be her soulmate (then cringes at blurting out more info inadvertently).

Yi-jung doesn’t make an issue of that, though, asking instead whether Ga-eul actually believes in soulmates. She answers, “Of course. Playboys like you can’t understand, but there is such a thing as a true love who stays with you all your life.”

Yi-jung: “Have you met your soulmate?”
Ga-eul: “Not yet. But when he shows up, I won’t let go, because I’d regret losing someone like that for the rest of my life.”

Whatever anger Jun-pyo felt earlier, he seems to work it out, because he takes Jan-di along in a helicopter ride to show her something. In the air, he points out a field that’s shaped like a heart: “I’d decided that when I found a girl I liked, I’d bring her here.”

She registers the meaning of those words as Jun-pyo smiles, asking, “Can you see my heart?” He seems very pleased with everything, but Jan-di looks away uneasily.

That night, Woo-bin and Yi-jung announce a Ji-hoo emergency: They’ve learned that Seo-hyun is engaged.

This explains why Ji-hoo has changed, but Jan-di feels awful: “Ji-hoo’s going to hate me.” By that, Jan-di means her wish that Seo-hyun marry a famous foreign husband, which she’d told Ji-hoo before knowing of their relationship.

She’s lost in her distress when Jun-pyo finds her, and asks if she’s accepted his feelings.

He leans in closer as though to kiss her, but she pulls away. Disappointed, he stops, then tells her, “Don’t make me wait too long.”

Feeling bad for Ji-hoo, Jan-di heads down to the beach to find him. She asks with tears in her eyes if the rumors of Seo-hyun’s engagement are true, and tells him she’s sorry.

He sounds so defeated as he tells her he can’t compare to Seo-hyun’s fiancé that Jan-di insists he’s wrong. Seeing how much his pain affects her, Ji-hoo gathers her in a hug.

She entreats, “Please be happy… because if you’re unhappy, I am too.”

Wondering, “How could I not like a girl like you?,” Ji-hoo leans in and kisses her.

The kiss lasts for a few seconds, but when Ji-hoo pulls back, Jun-pyo stands there. Gulp.

Jun-pyo asks: “Is that what was going on?” He approaches slowly, then suddenly punches Ji-hoo. Jan-di pleads with him, but he turns to her in a cold fury. “I wanted to believe you.” He’d tried his best because he didn’t want to regret not trusting her.

Jun-pyo: “I showed you my true self. But this was your answer?”
Jan-di: “That’s not it. It’s not…”
Jun-pyo: “It’s really over now. Geum Jan-di, don’t act like you know me anymore.”

Ji-hoo tries to call him back. Jun-pyo yells at him to shut up: “If you say one more word, I’ll kill you.”

The next morning, Jun-pyo is gone. The others wonder what could have prompted him to ditch them all, and Woo-bin asks Jan-di if she has any guesses. Uncomfortable, she says nothing.

On the boat later, Ga-eul takes out a bracelet like the one Jan-di lost, which she’d bought it in the marketplace. Apparently it’s supposed to be given to the person you want to spend your life with, and Ga-eul wonders, “Maybe it’s like asking them not to run away.”

At home, Jan-di puts her anklet away in her drawer, which reminds her of the auctioned swimming goggles lying there that Jun-pyo had given her. That sends her down memory lane: she recalls the night they were locked in the cold together, how he saved her from the bullies, how he took her up in the helicopter to tell her he liked her… Sorrowfully, she says, “I’m sorry, Gu Jun-pyo.”

At school, Jan-di apologizes to Ji-hoo for the incident on the beach; she shouldn’t have gone looking for him. Ji-hoo says he should be the one to apologize. She replies, “I’m the one who hurt Jun-pyo.” I’m pretty sure they’re both guilty on that score, but I suppose she has a point.

Picking up a piece of chalk from the ground, Ji-hoo doodles a picture of Jun-pyo on the wall. Jan-di takes over, adding an angrier scowl and curlier hair. She laughs at first, but the smile fades and she fights tears.

During lunchtime, Jun-pyo strolls into the cafeteria with Woo-bin and Yi-jung and rings the bell to command everyone’s attention. He has an official F4 announcement to make: “Yoon Ji-hoo is no longer part of F4.”

Everyone gasps, and even Woo-bin and Yi-jung are shocked. Jun-pyo continues coldly, “In one week, Yoon Ji-hoo and Geum Jan-di will be expelled from this school.”

The mean girls assume this is Jan-di’s doing and blame her for messing everything up — it’s all her fault that F4 has been disrupted and Ji-hoo kicked out of the group. She must take responsibility!

Ji-hoo interrupts: “I’ll take responsibility.” He denounces the girls for ganging up on Jan-di, to which Ginger protests, “If you act like this, we can’t take your side.” He shoots back, “Who asked you to?”

So now both Ji-hoo and Jan-di are in the same persona non grata boat. Jan-di figures that Jun-pyo won’t go through with his threat — she may be expellable, but surely not Ji-hoo. Ji-hoo reminds her whose school this is.

She wonders if there’s a way out of the mess, and he responds, “I’ll have to find one, because now I have a reason not to sit back and concede quietly.”

Ji-hoo says that last bit with a meaningful smile at Jan-di, which she takes to mean that he wants to reconcile with F4. Ji-hoo laughs and calls her dumb, because that’s not what he was referring to: “I don’t care about that.”

I love this next scene: Yi-jung drops by to tell Ji-hoo in a hard tone that he’d always understood what Ji-hoo did, and even thought Jun-pyo was sometimes hard to take. That’s why he never expected to be saying these things now.

Yi-jung: “Why did you do it?”
Ji-hoo: “I just felt like it.”
Yi-jung: “Jun-pyo liked Jan-di—”
Ji-hoo: “—and I knew it.”

That angers Yi-jung: “I can’t tolerate you messing with a friend’s girl.” Ji-hoo says he is sorry to Jun-pyo, but he can’t let him kick Jan-di out of school.

Yi-jung: “So? What are you going to do?”
Ji-hoo: “I have to do something.”
Yi-jung: “You’re not going to have anyone on your side this time.”

Meanwhile, Woo-bin appeals to Jun-pyo, saying he understands his anger but that he’s going too far. He reminds Jun-pyo that Ji-hoo’s not himself right now, and that he’s acting out because of what happened with Seo-hyun.

Jun-pyo answers, “That jerk didn’t do that because he really likes Jan-di. He was just using her because of Seo-hyun. That’s more unforgivable.” When Woo-bin tries again, Jun-pyo snaps, “Don’t defend that jerk anymore. One more word and you’re out too.”


TANGENT

You know, Boys Before Flowers kinda reminds me of the whole Twilight phenomenon — which is surprising to me since I like Boys Before Flowers but remain staunchly anti-Twilight.

Both have this compelling story at the core but are obscured by flawed storytelling. The hunky lead males are by all rights not supposed to be hero material and yet are, perhaps largely because they’re just so damn beautiful and charismatic. It doesn’t hurt that they’re devoted to their ladies — to a near-disturbing extent, but which somehow becomes transformed in fiction as appealing. Also, both franchises attract widespread fervor among its core audience — and just as much disdain from those who feel superior to what they regard as trashy stuff.

Yet, you can’t deny that it’s got a mighty pull. For people who hate it, no amount of persuasion will convince them that it’s worthy, while for those who love it, criticism won’t keep them from loving it. In both cases, the material is told in a clunky and clumsy way — if only more skilled artists were telling the story!! — but is still undeniably able to tap into something deeper that stirs up intense emotions. While the target audience may be teenage girls, I think it’s reductive to say that that’s the ONLY audience. (Helloooo, points at self.) It’s part fairy tale, part escapism, and part basic human longing. Even if the first two don’t get ya, the last one just might.

Oh gawd. I think I just wrote a semi-defense of Twilight. Curse you, Boys Before Flowers!




COMMENTS

I think that what’s been holding back the series in the first five episodes is a borrowed feeling it couldn’t quite shake off entirely. Personally, I think Boys Before Flowers is best when it takes its own spin on things — Jan-di’s entrance to Shinhwa, Jun-pyo’s character — and falters when adapting too literally.

But I felt a shift in this episode, which moved us from comic adaptation into (more of) a thing of its own. It’s starting to feel like its own series, with its own characters and own conflicts. Maybe it’s just me, but this episode was the first time I didn’t think, “Well the other version did it another way…” I hope this is a good indication of the future, and think (hope) that the comparisons may start to die now.

I like this plot turn, because just as Jan-di starts to enjoy all of Jun-pyo’s attention, it gets taken away. She was taking it for granted, and now that it’s gone, she starts to realize how much she likes Jun-pyo. Now the dynamic is all messed up and different and I really, really like that. Jun-pyo gets to be a cold-hearted bastard again (yet understandably so), while maybe Jan-di will have to exert herself a little now — she’s been on the receiving end all this time without giving. It’s not her fault because Jun-pyo has been giving without considering her opinion, so it’s like forced receiving, but the point remains — she’s gotta step it up now.

On the other hand, just as Kim Hyun-joong’s acting improves marginally, they give his character a pretty shitty turn. (Kim isn’t wonderful, but at least he’s not as distractingly bad as he was in the first few episodes.) How is he supposed to be Jun-pyo’s best friend when he seems to be actively undermining Jun-pyo’s relationship with Jan-di? In his (brief) defense, he’s being deliberately self-destructive because he’s so affected by losing Seo-hyun — lashing out at something covers up the hurt of the other thing. Well, he can be as SELF-destructive as he likes but that doesn’t excuse betraying a best friend willfully. Isn’t “bros before hos,” well, sacred male code?

Jan-di still sucks for not pulling away from Ji-hoo’s kiss, and I’m annoyed about that, but her betrayal of Jun-pyo is nothing compared to Ji-hoo’s. I hope this is resolved satisfactorily, because while I do love the angst — it feels real and palpable, for once — I hope they didn’t go too far in making Jan-di and Ji-hoo unlikable.

EPISODE 7 RECAP

Following their fallout, Jan-di tries to find Jun-pyo at school, and finally comes upon him as he exits school; he spots her and pauses for a moment. She gives him a tentative smile — but he turns away and leaves in his chauffeured car.

Jan-di chases, calling for him to stop, then grabs her bicycle to pedal furiously to his mansion.

She’s so fast (and superhuman?) that Jan-di arrives at the mansion just as Jun-pyo’s car does. He tries to push past her, but she insists on saying her piece, even if he doesn’t want to hear it.

Jan-di blocks his way inside, prompting him to run the other way. She ends up chasing him around his front yard, which is pretty cute.

Jun-pyo manages to slip into the driver’s seat of the car and drive off, leaving Jan-di shouting after him. (He can’t be SO mad if he can still find satisfaction in sticking out his tongue at her, methinks.)

Just then, a sleek white sports car pulls up, the window rolls down, and a glamorous woman (the gorgeous Kim Hyun-joo) tells her, “Get in.” Dumbfounded, Jan-di gapes, but the woman tells her to hurry: “You’re trying to catch that guy, right?”

Jan-di rides shotgun as the white car weaves in and out of traffic, tailing Jun-pyo. He tries to shake off his pursuer, but she maneuvers her car with smooth control and forces her way in front.

Finally, she cuts Jun-pyo off, making him pull over suddenly and stop.

Jun-pyo emerges from his car, ready to give the woman hell, but she grabs a wooden kendo sword (because we all carry those around?) and starts toward him purposefully. And because PD Jeon cannot leave a perfectly good moment as it is, he ruins this by having her leap into a CARTWHEEL AND BACKFLIP before she uses the wooden sword to hit Jun-pyo, taking him to task for his rudeness: “Who taught you to treat women like that?”

Jun-pyo protests, “Sis, you don’t even know what you’re talking about,” but he does quiet down and defer to her and her big wooden stick. This is Gu Jun-hee, just arrived from America, who takes an immediate liking to Jan-di.

Jun-hee apologizes to Jan-di on behalf of her rude younger brother, then tells Jun-pyo to drive safely and meet them back at home, ignoring his insistence that Jan-di is banned from their house.

Jun-pyo refuses to join everyone for dinner (which he later regrets when he’s dying of hunger), leaving F2 and Jan-di to fill Jun-hee in on news.

Jun-hee asks if the other two agree with Jun-pyo’s intent to kick Ji-hoo out of F4. Woo-bin doesn’t, and Yi-jung starts to qualify his answer (he’s a little more sympathetic to Jun-pyo), but Jun-hee cuts him off, figuring that it’s clear that Jun-pyo’s the only one pushing the breakup of F4. She urges Jan-di to eat up to prepare her strength “to fight that idiot.” (FYI, Jun-hee does beat up on her brother several times, but she does it with some affection — and exasperation — so it doesn’t come off mean-spirited.)

When Jun-hee drops Jan-di off at home, Jan-di wonders why Big Sis is being so nice to her. Jun-hee replies that their mother always said that people like them had no use for friends. With such an upbringing, the fact that Jun-pyo was even able to find friends in F4 was nothing short of a “miracle.” This reminder at their broken friendship makes Jan-di apologize for causing the rift.

Jun-hee isn’t too worried, though, and thanks Jan-di: “You opened the door to turning that kid more into a human being.” After all, friendship will help get him there, but love is even more essential.

At Ji-hoo’s request, Jun-pyo meets him in what I suppose is Ji-hoo’s private movie theater, where he’s watching The Three Musketeers. By way of conversation, Ji-hoo asks, “Do you remember how many times we’ve seen this movie together? Must be at least ten times.”

Jun-pyo seems to relax a tiny bit when Ji-hoo says, “I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to stop being angry just because of an apology. But…”

Jun-pyo: “But?” Ji-hoo: “Leave Jan-di alone.”

Jun-pyo seems like he may have wanted to reconcile (given the right approach), but mentioning Jan-di is exactly the wrong thing to say. Jun-pyo hardens: “And if I don’t?” Ji-hoo: “I’ll protect her.”

At that, Jun-pyo angrily gets up to leave, clenching his fist. Without looking at Ji-hoo, he says, “It’s eleven times. If you’d remembered we were friends who’d seen that movie together eleven times, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” (Oh, snap.)

So Jun-pyo’s plan to evict his best friend remains intact: He’s in the middle of intimidating the school headmaster into expelling Jan-di and Ji-hoo when Jun-hee bursts in. If he fires the teacher, after all, she can hire the next.

Grabbing Jun-pyo by the ear, she forces him out of the room, then tells him, the F4 guys, and Jan-di to follow.

Back at home, Jun-hee makes her proposal: Jun-pyo and Ji-hoo can work out their spat through an organized athletic competition. (Because sporting wins heal wounded hearts?) This way, they’ll both have to acknowledge the winner and abide by the outcome, putting a clear end to the fight. If Jun-pyo wins, he gets to expel Ji-hoo and Jan-di. Ji-hoo, then, is fighting to keep them both in school (and himself in F4).

To make it fair, they will choose randomly from ten possible sporting categories, some in which the guys are trained and some in which they are not. Best of three wins, and participants must agree to respect the outcome.

(As a plot device, I don’t mind the competition, but who else thinks it’s hilarious that they’d agree to settle a love triangle via sports? It’s almost as ridiculous as deciding a faux monarchy via sports — I’m lookin’ at you, Goong S.)

Jun-pyo protests, but he’s outnumbered by everyone else (who have been convinced by Jun-hee ahead of time). Jan-di, Ji-hoo, and Jun-pyo each pick a different ball from the lottery-style machine, and the first test is revealed (Jun-pyo’s pick): Horseback riding.

This is Ji-hoo’s area of expertise, and he is heavily favored to win. Knowing he’s at a disadvantage, Jun-pyo pushes himself to train for the event in the two days preceding the competition. Ji-hoo, meanwhile, picks out his horse but doesn’t train. (Reluctant, or just confident?)

On the day of the race, everyone heads out — Jun-hee, Jan-di, F4, and their Shinhwa classmates — to the equestrian center. The race starts inside the arena, then heads outdoors.

After a lap indoors, Ji-hoo is leading as they approach a forking of the trail, one side marked safe and the other indicating danger. As he cannot catch up to Ji-hoo on the safe trail, Jun-pyo heads off on the other one, urging his horse up steep, hilly ground even when the horse balks, and ignores his trainer’s warning not to push too hard.

Back inside the arena, everyone waits for the racers, fully expecting to see Ji-hoo leading. Unexpectedly, Jun-pyo gallops in first.

Ji-hoo takes the loss gracefully enough, treating Jan-di with calm good humor when she comes up to him afterward. She pets his horse — which is named Rui — and feeds it a treat affectionately. Ji-hoo offers to take Jan-di on a ride, and leads her on the horse outdoors.

I know it’s supposed to be sweet/fun that Ji-hoo’s horse is named Rui, but that just opens up a whole world of inappropriate double entendres, yunnowhatimean? Maybe I should’ve kept that to myself.

On the other hand, Jun-pyo may have won, but his horse has suffered for it. Hearing that his horse won’t ever race again, he’s overwhelmed with guilt for being so aggressive with the animal.

Jun-hee tells him, “You may have won this game, but you lost the battle, little bro. I really hope you learned something from today” — because if he didn’t, the horse will have suffered for nothing.

The second competition tilts the advantage the other way, because now Jun-pyo is the clear favorite: racecars.

It’s not merely that Jun-pyo is a good racer, but Ji-hoo struggles even to drive, haunted by memories of the car crash that killed his parents. He suffers nightmares of that night and has difficulty just getting behind the wheel.

Knowing that victory is nearly within reach puts Jun-pyo in a fantastic mood. Yi-jung and Woo-bin feel uneasy about the obvious imbalance of skills, but Jun-pyo doesn’t even feel this is unfair, since Ji-hoo picked this challenge. Plus, Jun-hee stipulated that they must abide by the contest parameters no matter what the tasks turn out to be.

Jan-di learns of Ji-hoo’s disadvantage from the Jin-Sun-Mi trio, who tell her to pack her bags because there’s no way Ji-hoo will win this battle. Jan-di assures them that it ain’t over till it’s over: “I have faith in Ji-hoo.” (At this point, I wonder if the drama has slipped up in achieving the right balance, because I have to side with Miranda — and siding with a Mean Girl can’t be right — who calls her out for lacking principles. She reminds Jan-di that not long ago, she was talking to Jun-pyo about trust and faith (regarding the hotel photos), and now she’s blabbering about believing in Ji-hoo. Girl does seem fickle.)

Fearing for Ji-hoo’s safety, Jan-di drops by the racetrack where Ji-hoo is watching Jun-pyo zoom around the course below. Hesitantly, she asks how he got his driver’s license, and he explains that Seo-hyun had taught him. He’d hated it, but embarrassment over failing pushed him to learn how to drive enough to get a license.

Jan-di cautiously suggests that Ji-hoo not participate in the race — it’s not like she wanted to go to that school in the first place. Ji-hoo says firmly, “I don’t know if I can win, but I’m going to do my best.”

Seeing that Jan-di has brought him some rice porridge from the restaurant, he asks to try it. Down below, Jun-pyo glances up to see Jan-di and Ji-hoo looking chummy together and suddenly swerves, his car spinning out of control. At the sound of screeching tires, they look over in alarm — but I dunno, there’s something about Ji-hoo’s smirk as he continues calmly eating his porridge that makes me want to smack him.

Afterward, Jun-pyo fumes. He kicks one racing coach/crew member, hits another, and throws his helmet at a third, saying, “What the hell’s wrong with the car?” (I guess they’re too scared to answer, “The driver.”)

The day of the race, Woo-bin tries one last time to persuade Jun-pyo to give up, while Yi-jung does the same with Ji-hoo. Both are unsuccessful, so the best they can do is tell the competitors to be careful.

Ga-eul worriedly asks Ji-hoo if he’s going to be all right, hoping he has some kind of secret weapon up his sleeve. At that moment, Jun-pyo walks in, and the two shoot daggers at each other. Ji-hoo tells Ga-eul that he does, in fact, have a secret weapon — and then bends down affectionately to embrace Jan-di.

Jan-di resists a little at his unexpected hug, but he tells her to play along — this may be a cheap tactic but it’s all he’s got. Jun-pyo watches incredulously as Ji-hoo places a kiss on Jan-di’s forehead.

Ji-hoo walks off, thinking, “Jun-pyo, I’m sorry. I want to protect her, even if it’s like this.”

With that scene playing in his head, Jun-pyo takes to the track, trailing Ji-hoo at first. Amazing at how Ji-hoo’s debilitating fear of driving is miraculously cured! He’s even leading for the first half of the race.

But Jun-pyo’s mind involuntarily flashes back to the kiss, and in that second of distraction, he veers off course and skids, allowing Ji-hoo to zoom ahead to the finish line.

If Jun-pyo lost the first test of sportsmanship, surely Ji-hoo loses this round?

Now, the third test. A bit expectedly (for us), Jan-di’s selection turns out to be swimming — which practically guarantees a Ji-hoo win. Flustered and panicked, Jun-pyo refuses to participate. Unfortunately, Jun-hee reminds him, if he forfeits, Ji-hoo wins.

Yi-jung speaks up — if this issue is decided because of a forfeit, nobody will feel satisfied. Therefore, he’d like to offer himself to take Jun-pyo’s place in the last challenge, if everyone consents. Yi-jung finds it difficult to forgive Ji-hoo’s actions, too, and this is his way of making the last game fairer. Jun-hee accepts his proposal, saying that she’s okay with it if everyone else is. Jun-pyo immediately agrees, as does Woo-bin.

But Jan-di speaks up too — if Yi-jung gets to take Jun-pyo’s place, then she wants to take Ji-hoo’s. Jun-hee warns that she’ll be given no handicap going against a guy and Jun-pyo argues that she should stay out of it, but Jan-di says this involves her life too. She feels she should participate in determining her own fate.

Jun-hee agrees to the suggestion — then they can make it two-on-two: Yi-jung against Jan-di, Woo-bin against Ji-hoo.

So, they start training.



When their kooky restaurant boss (who’s always babbling about spirits and aliens) has a dream about the race, Jan-di and Ga-eul eagerly ask about the outcome, grasping at straws for good news. He describes: “Approaching the finish line, you’re almost neck in neck. Then, at the moment when a hand is reaching out… everything went dark.” (This may be a throwaway bit, or it may mean something, it’s hard to say just yet.)

Ga-eul proposes that they resort to underhanded methods — desperate times, and all — like feeding Yi-jung diarrhea medication secretly, or running him over with a bicycle (which, frankly, is a scene I’d like to see. The bike, I mean, not the diarrhea). Their boss puts his foot down and insists she not do anything dishonorable.

That doesn’t prevent her from dropping by to talk to Yi-jung, however. Yi-jung guesses that Ga-eul came to ask him to throw the race — she argues that the outcome doesn’t affect Yi-jung at all , while Jan-di may be expelled — but he has no intention of doing so. He isn’t going to kill himself over this competition, but he’s not going to purposely lose it, either.

He reminds her that she doesn’t exactly have a right to be so upset at his position: “I warned you that it would be a good idea to stop her.”

Jan-di’s family is appalled to hear that she cheated on Jun-pyo with Ji-hoo and now faces expulsion. She tries to explain her actions, but they’re disappointed in her when she confirms the story.

Her father figures she must take after her mother (who tries to shush him) and that based on his experience, when a man has been hurt by a woman two-timing him, the curious thing is, it always helps when the woman apologizes and says she was wrong. They urge her to apologize to Jun-pyo, and for once, they don’t seem so ridiculously out of line.

As Jan-di walks outside that night, Jun-pyo pulls up in his car. Hearing that she’s on her way to train, he asks, “Do you want to win that badly?”

Jan-di sighs, “We don’t have much of a choice.” Jun-pyo reacts to her phrasing: “We?”

Frustrated, he asks, “Why did it have to be Ji-hoo? If only it wasn’t him…”

Jan-di says his name reproachfully, but he suddenly pulls her to him in a hug. Earnestly, he says:

Jun-pyo: “It’s not too late. It would only take one word, if you said that you like me…”


COMMENTS

Yunno, I’m the first one to admit that this series is flawed. Like, way seriously flawed, yo (yo yo, ma bro).

But for some odd reason, it’s still a drama that I look forward to every Monday and Tuesday, and is one of very few in the past couple years that I’ve been eager to see as soon as possible. (Some — really, really good — dramas sit on my hard drive months and years after downloading, still unwatched.)

It’s just that, if a drama is able to get me upbeat and excited for any reason, I’m happy. The rest? It’s icing, folks. Sweet, glorious icing.

As for this episode specifically:

The thing is, we’re supposed to be rooting for Ji-hoo, because that means F4 remains intact and Jan-di gets to stay at Shinhwa High School. Yet I found myself rooting for Jun-pyo, and wanted Jan-di to root for Jun-pyo secretly too (there may have been a hint of that during the horse race, but if so, it was fleeting).

The problem is, I’m starting to hate Ji-hoo. You may not believe me but I want to like him, I really do. I’m trying to understand his character. But he’s just so… meh.

When he kisses Jan-di in front of Jun-pyo to throw him off his game, he’s doing exactly what Jun-pyo accused him of doing at the end of Episode 6, which is use Jan-di. Not because he cares for her, but for his own purposes. And not only are his purposes selfish, he means to harm his friend to win the race. Jun-pyo didn’t act honorably in the first race, but is stooping to a lower level really the answer, Ji-hoo? I thought you were supposed to be the gallant, noble one.

(That said, I was squeamish about Jun-pyo treating his horse so carelessly, even if he feels bad about it. Jun-pyo was also seen acting out more aggressively in this episode, such as when he hit his racing team out of misplaced frustration.)

I’m not sure if this is a writing problem or an acting one, because it could be either — or both. If Ji-hoo is just written this way, it’s making his character way unlikable. On the other hand, if he’s being written to convey conflicted emotions, those aren’t showing through the acting. From reading through the scripts, it seems that the characters aren’t given much direction on the page (they probably are offscreen), and whatever subtext that emerges is a result of smart acting and directing. Some actors are able to mine moments out of their scenes more effectively than others. Some may just be acting what’s on the page.

For instance, in the movie theater scene, you can see for a moment that Jun-pyo softens toward his friend, then hardens at the mention of Jan-di. If Ji-hoo showed inner conflict in a similar way, I could get behind him — but he’s just so smugly calm all the time. It makes me want to slap that smirk from his face.

I was trying to figure out the appeal of Jun-pyo in this drama, because as much as I’m liking his character, the drama feels unbalanced in his favor and I’m trying not to let it bother me. I don’t think it’s a simple matter of “omg Lee Min-ho is hawt!” because yes, he is, but that’s not what does it for me and it’s a little demeaning to say that the only reason Jun-pyo fans like him is because the actor is good-looking. After all, Kim Hyun-joong is surely beautiful but he doesn’t have the same effect on me.

For me, it’s that Jun-pyo is the only character thus far who is drawn in a complex way AND acted well. Everyone else is one or the other, but not both: Jan-di is acted anywhere from weakly to moderately well (depending on your opinion) but her character is not complex. Ji-hoo is complex but not acted terribly well. Yi-jung and Woo-bin are both acted fairly well but their characters are not complex. Same with Ga-eul. So against this character landscape, when we have one lead who is layered, complicated, and portrayed convincingly, we get: Lee Min-ho mania.

EPISODE 8 RECAP

After a moment, Jan-di pushes away from Jun-pyo’s hug and says, dully, “I’m sorry.” Jun-pyo takes a moment to let this sink in, then: “Do you understand what I’m doing? The Almighty Gu Jun-pyo is pleading with you.”

Jan-di answers that she can’t help it. He wonders, “How did I come to like someone like you?” as though wishing he didn’t. He tells her she just threw away her last chance, because from tomorrow on, she won’t get any more. Jan-di returns, “That’s what I want.”

He leaves. Jan-di repeats to herself, not very convincingly, “I won’t regret it. I won’t ever regret it.”

Race day. Schoolmates gather poolside to spectate, mostly betting on (and cheering for) a Jun-pyo victory. The Tarty Trio, naturally, solidify their Mean Girl image by dressing as vapid cheerleaders. Well, I suppose the vapid part is already built-in.

The swimmers take their positions and the relay begins; Ji-hoo takes an immediate lead over Woo-bin. Thus when Jan-di begins her lap, she’s got a head start over Yi-jung, and at the turn, she’s leading by a full body length.

But Yi-jung starts closing the distance, and in the final stretch, her lead has been narrowed so they’re almost even. (Hey Jan-di, if you volunteered to take Ji-hoo’s place, shouldn’t you have been, uh, better than him?) Ga-eul urges Jan-di to hang in there, and Jun-pyo watches the tightening race as tension mounts.

The situation starts to mirror the scenario described in the restaurant ajusshi’s hazy dream (so he’s not just kooky, but also psychic!) — Jan-di and Yi-jung are neck and neck as their hands reach out toward the wall… and everything goes dark. The lights have been switched off. When they flicker back on, everyone looks around in confusion and wonders who won, but nobody was able to see the crucial final moment.

Glancing around, Jun-hee spies Jun-pyo walking away, and smiles knowingly.

Right before the lights went out, our last glimpse of the swimmers had shown Jan-di ahead by just a hair, but given that Yi-jung was gaining on her, this suggests that Jun-pyo turns off the lights not because he is afraid of losing, but because he realizes he doesn’t actually want to win.

The reason I believe that’s the case (rather than Jun-pyo doing it because he didn’t want to lose) is because of what follows: It is decided that Ji-hoo and Jan-di get to stay, thus winning the competition.

Jun-hee announces the results to everyone minus Jun-pyo (who has left on his own), and thanks Jan-di: “My stupid brother seems to be growing up nicely because of you.”

Yi-jung congratulates Jan-di on a good race, then punches Ji-hoo in the stomach. But as he does so with a smile, it’s like saying, “You kinda sucked there for a while but we’re still friends.” Ji-hoo seems to accept this good-naturedly as his due.

After the others leave, Jan-di and Ji-hoo both speak up at the same time, intending to thank the other.

They laugh and try saying their thanks again, and then, somewhat out of the blue, Ji-hoo asks, “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

When F2 drops by, Jun-pyo is contemplating a toy robot and musing aloud, “Gu Jun-pyo, you sure are paying back your debt.” By way of explanation, Jun-pyo brings up a wooden robot Ji-hoo had once had as a kid, which Little Jun-pyo wanted to play with. Little Ji-hoo didn’t want to give it away, but he’d grabbed it anyway, then tripped on the ground. The robot clattered to the pavement, and an incoming car flattened it with its tires.

As Little Ji-hoo cried, Mr. Jung had told Little Jun-pyo that it had been a gift from Ji-hoo’s deceased father.

Jun-pyo explains that ever since that day, he’d felt that he had an outstanding debt with Ji-hoo. This is his way of paying it back — letting Ji-hoo and Jan-di win the competition and dropping the grudge.

Jun-pyo: “After all, I can’t destroy Jan-di just to prevent anyone from having her, like I did back then.”

Yi-jung and Woo-bin are impressed — and relieved — at this display of newfound maturity. Listening at the door, Jun-hee smiles, too — looks like a certain idiot brother learned his lesson with the ill-fated horse.

In the morning, Yi-jung and Woo-bin try to wrangle a resistant Jun-pyo out of bed. Not in the mood to go out, he refuses, stubbornly remaining under the covers. The guys look at each other knowingly and mention the one thing sure to rouse Jun-pyo’s interest: Ji-hoo’s date with Jan-di.

They oh-so-innocently speculate over what will happen during the date: “Maybe they’ll take in the sunlight and nap together?” “And she’ll sleep on his arm?”

It’s not an accurate prediction, but it does the trick in spurring Jun-pyo to action. Meanwhile, the actual date starts off nicely with a ride on Ji-hoo’s horse, which is followed by walking and conversation. Jan-di’s rather enjoying herself — until Ji-hoo steers them to Namsan Tower.

Suddenly assailed with memories of the day she spent here with Jun-pyo, Jan-di glances over to the spot where Jun-pyo had waited for her in the snow, her mood subduing.

She remains quiet as they head inside and, at Ji-hoo’s suggestion, take the cable car. Ji-hoo enjoys the view, but Jan-di doesn’t even look outside, distracted with memories of the night spent in the cold car with Jun-pyo. Something catches her eye, and we finally see what it is that Jun-pyo had written on the wall with Jan-di’s pen:

Gu Jun-pyo ♥ Geum Jan-di
“Our first night!”

Meanwhile, Jun-pyo has followed the couple to Namsan Tower, watching unhappily from his car. (Ji-hoo notices that they’re being trailed and finds Jun-pyo’s behavior humorous, though Jan-di remains oblivious.)

When the couple heads to Ji-hoo’s house, Jun-pyo can’t quite decide what to do with himself — interrupt them? Go home? Instead, he paces outside indecisively, trying to tamp down his frustration. (Again, Ji-hoo notices Jun-pyo on the security monitor, and finds it amusing.)

Jan-di looks around at the luxurious house, noting pictures of Ji-hoo with Seo-hyun as children. When asked why nobody’s around, Ji-hoo explains that he prefers his staff to be gone when he’s home: “But it’s strange, I’m not uncomfortable around you. For some reason, I find you comfortable and fun. Something about you is warm.”

The flattery flusters Jan-di, her uneasiness growing when Ji-hoo looks at her meaningfully to say, “I think I understand why Jun-pyo likes you.” He leans in to kiss her.

Jan-di shrinks back, then pretends to be distracted, leaving him hanging. Rather than being upset at her reaction, Ji-hoo finds it telling.

He admits that the guys may have been right in thinking that if not for Seo-hyun, his relationship with Jan-di might not have developed this way. It turns out Seo-hyun isn’t marrying her French fiancé after all, but still, “That doesn’t change anything. I think it’s time for me to let her go.” He thanks Jan-di: “Because of you, I could let go of my first love.”

By way of consolation, Jan-di tells him, “They say that there’s a kind of fate where people may break up multiple times, but they end up meeting again in the end. You’ll meet her again. Because… the two of you…”

Jan-di trails off just as Ji-hoo’s head lands on her shoulder — he’s fallen asleep. But that makes it easier for Jan-di to finish her thought honestly; relieved, she relaxes a bit and says, “Thanks to Seo-hyun unni, I think I’ll be able to let go of my first love, too.”

While Ji-hoo sleeps, Jan-di leaves the house, turning back to murmur, “Goodbye, Ji-hoo.” After she’s gone, Ji-hoo addresses his poster of Seo-hyun on the wall: “I may regret it, but I should let her go, shouldn’t I?”

Jun-pyo, however, misses seeing Jan-di leave, because he gives up just moments before she emerges from the house and drives off in disappointment. Assuming the date is going swimmingly, Jun-pyo is therefore in a dark mood when he, Yi-jung, and Woo-bin get the same text message from Ji-hoo, suggesting a friendly game of ice hockey.

(I think this drama has decided to give us as many different uniforms and costumes as humanly possible. What’s next, folks? Scuba gear, circus acts, floofy tutus? Bring it on! I say this drama isn’t complete until I’ve seen all these boys cross-dressing at some point.)

When F4 is gathered on the rink, Jun-pyo says in a challenging tone, “Thought this was date night for you. Why’d you call us out?”

Coolly, Ji-hoo answers that he’d planned on a nice date night, but things got boring: “I don’t care for easy girls.” Jun-pyo’s hackles raise at this insult toward Jan-di and the other two warn Ji-hoo to cut it out, but Ji-hoo continues carelessly, painting Jan-di as eager and clinging. Because of Seo-hyun, he’d almost been tempted to take her up on the offer — “But she wasn’t good for anything other than passing the time.”

This, my friends, is what we call a death wish. Having deliberately pushed Jun-pyo’s buttons, Ji-hoo takes to the ice and the four begin their “game,” only it’s not really much of a game so much as it is Ji-hoo taunting Jun-pyo with the puck. Hampered by his anger and a singular goal to body-check Ji-hoo at every opportunity, Jun-pyo’s fury trips him up (literally) and Ji-hoo out-skates him. When he finally does slam into Ji-hoo, Jun-pyo flings off his helmet and starts pounding him.

(Btw, who else finds it hilariously inappropriate whenever they use the song “Paradise” in entirely un-paradise-like conditions? Like, say, to score a bloody fight on an ice rink?)

Ji-hoo points out, “She doesn’t matter to you now.” Jun-pyo: “She does! Even if she doesn’t, it matters!”

Woo-bin and Yi-jung hold Jun-pyo back as he bites out, “If you hurt Jan-di, I’ll kill you!” Ji-hoo sighs, “You should have just said that from the start.”

At that, the guys all stare. Ji-hoo continues, “See? You can’t give her up. You should’ve been honest so I didn’t have to do all this.” Far from appeased, Jun-pyo glares at him, calls him a crazy bastard, and storms off.

On the other hand, the other two are somewhat relieved that Ji-hoo isn’t entirely crazy and/or a horrible friend, although they do think he used rather extreme methods. Woo-bin wonders why he hadn’t said anything before, and Ji-hoo replies, “He owed me a debt. That punk broke my robot.” You just don’t get between a boy and his toys.

That night, Jan-di is lost in thoughts of Jun-pyo when she gets a call from his phone. In an effort to (over)compensate for nerves, Jan-di is about to launch into their customary bickering, but stops short to hear Yi-jung on the line.

Jan-di rushes to the hospital, so frazzled she’s wearing mismatched shoes, panicked about Yi-jung’s news. Arriving at a private hospital room bearing Jun-pyo’s name, Jan-di starts to tear up. Preparing herself for the sight, she enters, and Yi-jung greets her with a solemn look.

Woo-bin sits bedside by an unconscious Jun-pyo, begging him to wake up. Ji-hoo’s there as well.

Making her way to his bedside, Jan-di holds Jun-pyo’s hand and cries, cautiously at first, then growing in intensity:

Jan-di: “Wake up. Why won’t you wake up? I have so much to say to you, to fight with you about, to explain to you. What’s wrong?”

They explain that Jun-pyo had been depressed all day. The accident occurred after he rushed out saying he had to apologize to Jan-di. Starting to sob in earnest, Jan-di pleads:

Jan-di: “I’m the one who should apologize. Gu Jun-pyo, I wronged you. I lied to you. When you left after asking me to say those words, I regretted it. Gu Jun-pyo, wake up! Now I think I can tell you those words you wanted to hear, but how can I when you’re like this? Wake up!”

Happy to oblige, he does. His eyes pop open and he asks, grinning, “For real?”

As I am sure many of you guessed ahead of time (I was HOWLING with laughter throughout this scene), this was an elaborate ruse to get Jan-di to admit her feelings. Ji-hoo apologizes for his part, but they’re both so stubborn that extreme measures were required.

Jan-di blinks in bewilderment as the guys marvel at Jan-di’s proof of devotion. Jun-pyo leans toward her eagerly, wanting to hear her make good on her promise: “Say those words you just promised you’d say.” Jun-pyo thoroughly enjoys the moment, and Jan-di beats him up in retaliation.

I think if Jan-di had been seriously upset with them for manipulating her, I would have been behind her in thinking this was kinda mean. But she seems to take it well, after the initial surprise. At least, she doesn’t protest his attentions anymore.

Case in point: Jun-pyo takes her away for their own date day. First, he teaches her how to play golf (she is not good). (Also, can I say: I understand the desire to dress the lead actress in cute outfits without contradicting her poor character, but I would prefer they stop with the whole rich-guy-buys-his-girl-clothing thing. It seems proprietary.)

Then, he takes her out to eat some really awesome-looking sashimi, appreciating the sight of Jan-di stuffing herself silly. When dinner is over, Jan-di gazes longingly at the huge spread still left uneaten.

Feeling it would be a waste to leave all that behind, as they’re leaving, Jan-di tells Jun-pyo to go on ahead, then sneaks back inside to get the rest wrapped to go.

On her way out, Jan-di bumps into someone, who turns out to be part of a group date including the Three Musketeerettes (Amigas? Furies? Witches of Eastwick?). Jan-di’s boxed leftovers spill out onto the ground, and seeing that she’s alone, the girls waste no time mocking her for taking people’s leftovers. They’re caught up in laughter when Jun-pyo enters, sees the food on the ground, and takes stock of the situation.

The guys are vaguely acquainted with him and josh him for his new (read: plebeian) taste in women. As with all Jan-di-related insults, this is precisely the wrong thing to say; Jun-pyo threatens, “Want to shut up nicely, or would you like to read the news tomorrow morning about your company going under?”

If only we could all wield such power over our enemies. The guy hurries to apologize to Jan-di, and Jun-pyo leads her away.

Next, they watch a movie in the car at Jun-pyo’s private drive-in theater, where the pressure of being alone starts getting to both of them. Neither can look at the other; Jan-di squirms in embarrassment, while Jun-pyo tries to muster up the courage to make the first move. Their internal monologues are pretty hilarious, particularly with the normally-so-authoritative Jun-pyo trying to psych himself up:

Jun-pyo: “Gu Jun-pyo. Now’s the moment. Turn to her.”
Jan-di: “No! Don’t look at me. Gu Jun-pyo, if you turn toward me, you’re so dead.”
Jun-pyo: “Damn, I can’t do it! I’ll just have some popcorn.”

Their hands accidentally meet as they both reach for popcorn, and Jun-pyo takes that as his signal to make his move. He leans in closer, their hearts start to race, Jan-di closes her eyes in anticipation…

…and then her phone rings. Immediately, Jun-pyo retreats and the moment is broken.

Turns out her family is calling to exult over the latest extravagance: When Jan-di arrives home that night, they’re eating a lavish spread just like the one she had for dinner, sent courtesy of Jun-pyo.

She gets a text message from Jun-pyo that night, which he has sent to offset her reaction to sending all the food: “I’m saying this in case you get mad again, but that wasn’t for you. So don’t eat any of it.” Funny how his grand gestures often get her riled up, but a little thing like this (which shows he’s getting to know her enough to predict her reaction) makes her smile.

On the other hand, now she’s completely embarrassed by the almost-kiss and doesn’t know how to act around Jun-pyo. When he calls, she fakes static noises and rattles off a litany of lame excuses before hanging up on him. Oh, young love. Silly, stupid, young love.

Ji-hoo finds her swimming at school, and wonders why she’s there when they’re on break. When she replies that swimming makes her feel better, he asks if something’s bothering her (which she avoids answering).

Ji-hoo takes a phone call from Jun-pyo, but when he assumes she’ll want to talk to him, Jan-di hurriedly motions for him not to mention her presence. Jun-pyo is on his way over, so Jan-di invents an excuse to rush off, leaving Ji-hoo puzzled at her behavior.

Thus she reacts with alarm to Jun-pyo’s unannounced arrival at home that night. Her family welcomes him enthusiastically, completely won over when Jun-pyo addresses her parents as “Father” and “Mother.”

She protests when Jun-pyo makes the rather unorthodox request that they put him up for the night, but she’s outnumbered: everyone else jumps to accommodate him.

It’s a little silly to show the five of them all settling in for the night in the same room, although I suppose they kind of explain it when Jan-di’s brother offers to share his room with Jun-pyo and his mother balks at that. (Perhaps they all want a piece of the Jun-pyo love? Can’t say I don’t understand.)

Although this is a far cry from Jun-pyo’s palatial estate — he laughs that his bathrooms are bigger than their bedroom — Jun-pyo is oddly enjoying himself.

While everyone else sleeps, he tells Jan-di, “I came without really planning anything, but this is a ton of fun.” He jokes about the sleeping arrangement, but muses, “Still, with everyone sleeping under the same blanket, doesn’t it seem like a family?”

In order to avoid continuing the conversation, Jan-di pretends to have fallen asleep — leaving Jun-pyo to fend for himself against her snoring, mumbling, crowding father and brother.


COMMENTS

Okay, I’ve made a conscious effort not to bring Hana Yori Dango discussions into this drama, but I’ll depart from that rule for just a second. I knew Rui’s meddling in the Doumyouji–Makino relationship turned out to be his way of prodding them to admit their feelings for each other, and I’d wondered if Ji-hoo was doing the same… But it didn’t seem so up through Episode 7. (For one, Jan-di and Jun-pyo were getting along when he showed up, so if anything his presence was an inhibitor, not a facilitator.) Also, Ji-hoo admits that he was acting out from losing Seo-hyun, which pushed him to become closer with Jan-di. Thus Ji-hoo had no secret motives when he kissed Jan-di — he liked her, he was rebounding, ergo kiss.

That wrecked everything with Jun-pyo, and to keep Jan-di from expulsion, Ji-hoo went along with the competition. He wanted to win to protect Jan-di, and somewhere along the line (when Jun-pyo lost control of his car), he figured out that Jun-pyo didn’t really want to cut Jan-di out of his life.

So as I see it, Ji-hoo’s manipulations began after they won the competition (or Jun-pyo conceded, however you choose to look at it), when he asked Jan-di out on the date — that’s when he began working to bring Jun-pyo and Jan-di back together, after contributing to their breakup initially.

However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like Jan-di. Judging from his reaction after she left his house, I think we are to take that he does have feelings for her, but is willing to step back because the couple so obviously likes each other. (Although Jan-di is looking at the poster of Seo-hyun in the photo above, I think the image rather perfectly captures her relationship with Ji-hoo at that point, doesn’t it?)

I didn’t hate Ji-hoo in this episode, nor did I really like him — I guess he’s back to fading in as one of the F4 members, so he doesn’t register as strongly either way. I think I can live with that.

EPISODE 9 RECAP

The morning after, Jun-pyo rises to a large (by Geum family standards) spread, and Jan-di’s parents urge him to eat up. Mom takes particular care in attending to him, but to the fastidious Jun-pyo, it’s a bit hard to swallow (literally) when she uses her hands to tear up his meat before serving it to him. Commoner-style living has some unforeseen drawbacks.

What’s cute is that they call him “son-in-law,” and while it’s not that unusual to use the term with a daughter’s (serious) boyfriend, it’s a bit early for that. Still, cute.

Breakfast is an entirely different affair at Jun-pyo’s estate, where Mom (Madam Kang) joins Jun-hee for a rare meal together and wonders where Jun-pyo is. (“Do you know how rarely I have breakfast with you two?” Jun-hee: “Is that our fault?”)

Jun-hee covers for her brother, saying he’s still asleep, having been out late with his F4 friends last night. Madam Kang grumbles that he’s outgrown those childish friends, reminding her, “Even if the Shinhwa Group successor has friends, he doesn’t need them.” His position, after all, “requires him to be so cool-headed that he is capable of even cutting off his family.”

Mom heads to Jun-pyo’s room to fetch him personally, looking around in annoyance to see that he’s not there. The butler gulps nervously, hesitating when she demands to know his whereabouts.

At the Geum household, Jun-pyo watches in fascinated curiosity while Jan-di’s family prepares a massive batch of cabbage to be made into kimchi.

He stays on the sidelines at first, but seeing how much fun they’re having together, Jun-pyo soon joins in.

At school, Ji-hoo visits the empty pool, probably expecting to see Jan-di there and disappointed that she isn’t. With a rueful (?) expression, he remembers their boat ride together during their trip to New Caledonia. He floats a paper boat into the pool, then walks away with a sigh.

I think this scene is supposed to be… sad?

(It’s just that it’s so hard to read Ji-hoo’s face. An expressive actor can let you know how the character is feeling without words, but I find Ji-hoo always requires explanation to understand.)

Jun-pyo joins the Geum men at the public bath, and participates in that grand exercise of male bonding: scrubbing dead skin from each other’s backs.

(Having never had his back scrubbed before, Jun-pyo is particularly sensitive to the abrasive scrubbing rag. The expression on Lee Min-ho’s face cracks me up — even the veins in his chest are protruding.)

They emerge from the bath and beeline for some fish-cake skewers from a street vending cart, which Jun-pyo tastes for the first time. He likes them so much that soon, a mound of little skewers sits in front of him.

Reliving the moments of his family outing later makes Jun-pyo chuckle to himself. And just in case we’ve forgotten what happened a mere five minutes ago, a whole series of flashbacks fills us in on his memories.

Yi-jung and Woo-bin wonder what has him so happy, to which Jun-pyo asks whether they’ve ever made kimchi, or had their backs scrubbed at a public bath, or eaten fish sticks from a street cart. Loftily, he tsk-tsks that they’re missing out: “What do you know about life?”

Yi-jung quips, “I liked him better when he was messing up proverbs.”

Ji-hoo finds Jan-di after her swim, figuring that she must have a lot on her mind to be swimming so much. After the last time they met when she ran off to avoid Jun-pyo, he guesses that’s the issue. He notices her wet hair and gives her his hat, followed by a spot of advice: “Don’t avoid him. Someone once told me that avoidance is cowardly. Don’t avoid him, and give him a chance.”

Jan-di admits, “To be honest, being dragged along into Gu Jun-pyo’s world is uncomfortable.” Ji-hoo responds, “There’s no such thing as Jun-pyo’s world or Jan-di’s world. We’re in the same world right now. If Jun-pyo’s world is too much for you, go along at your pace.”

Because Jan-di has been feeling uncomfortable, she’s been keeping her distance, which drives Jun-pyo crazy. He’s determined to wait for her to make the first move, and paces in agitation. Woo-bin, ever the voice of reason, tells him to call her, but Yi-jung reminds him of the player’s code. Relationships require a certain give and take and it’s better if he waits.

Thus when Jan-di does finally call, Jun-pyo tries to calm his reaction before answering the phone. I admit, I cried tears of laughter at Jun-pyo’s abysmal attempt to play it cool. First, he feigns disinterest: “Geum Jan-di? Who’s that?”

The guys sigh that he’s overdoing it, so he corrects himself, saying, “Ah right, I remember now.” But in an effort to pretend he hasn’t noticed her absence, he assures her, “I’ve been SO busy, I haven’t been able to recall that you haven’t called in three days and thirteen hours.” Yi-jung grimaces, “It’s embarrassing calling him friend.”

Jan-di makes a suggestion which Jun-pyo finds disagreeable, and he balks, “Why would I want to go there?” and hangs up. And then crows to his buddies, “Did you see how I hung up first?” LOL.

Asked what he found so unpleasant, Jun-pyo answers that Jan-di had suggested a double date with her friend. (Yi-jung plays it off, but he says with some coolness, “Ga-eul? Good for her.”) Since Jun-pyo finds the double date distasteful, Yi-jung offers half-jokingly, “Want me to go instead?” (His reasoning being that it would be interesting to observe how common folk date.)

The next day, Jan-di tries to pretend she’s not disappointed that he turned down the invitation. When Jun-pyo makes his appearance, he pulls the old “I was just in the neighborhood” excuse and offers to stay as a favor to keep her from being a third wheel. Seriously, between the two of them, they’ve got enough pride to make a third person.

Ga-eul’s boyfriend, Su-pyo, makes a bad impression right off the bat, arriving a half-hour late and mocking Jun-pyo with what he probably thinks is good-natured charm. But his careless remarks come off rude and when he makes fun of Jun-pyo’s hair and tells him to call him hyung, the girls trade uneasy glances.

Sensing Jun-pyo’s aggravation, Jan-di says they can leave, but Jun-pyo grits his teeth and is committed to seeing this commoner date through to the end.

Things only get worse when the foursome go out to eat, and Su-pyo taunts Jun-pyo for his uneasiness at the food (it’s gopchang, or cow intestines). Goaded by Su-pyo’s patronizing remarks, Jun-pyo forces himself to eat with difficulty. He misstates another proverb in an attempt to warn Su-pyo to check himself (before he wrecks himself), but the mistake causes Su-pyo to laugh harder.

Things improve when the couples split up to skate on an outdoor rink. Jan-di admires the pretty lights, having never come to a place like this before, which she describes as fairy-tale-like.

Seeing Jan-di’s bare hands, Jun-pyo gives her one of his gloves, then tucks her uncovered hand into his pocket. Perhaps thinking of the display of lights, he suggests, “Let’s go someday.” She asks, “Where?” Jun-pyo: “Champs-Elysées.”

At Su-pyo’s suggestion, Jun-pyo reluctantly joins him to grab some hot drinks. As they head off together, Su-pyo answers a phone call while the girls chat.

Ga-eul apologizes for her boyfriend’s rudeness, but admits that she was touched to see Jun-pyo trying so hard to accommodate everyone. It was touching, really.

Wondering where the guys went, the girls look for their dates. They find them almost immediately: A crowd has gathered to watch Jun-pyo pummeling Ga-eul’s boyfriend.

Jan-di is appalled — she knows he was struggling to remain calm but beating up the guy is unforgivable — and grows angrier when he addresses Ga-eul: “If you’re going to date, pick a decent boyfriend.” Jan-di insists that he apologize, warning, “if you leave like this, we’re over.” Jun-pyo stalks off angrily.

In the following days, a dejected Ga-eul can’t get in touch with her boyfriend despite leaving numerous messages. Jan-di feels responsible for her unhappiness, deploring Jun-pyo’s rash temper. But Ga-eul reasons, “I don’t think Jun-pyo sunbae would do that without a reason.”

Vowing to extract an apology, Jan-di drops by the F4 hangout. The other guys, having heard none of the story from Jun-pyo, are alarmed at their chilly exchange, sensing that whatever happened was serious.

Jan-di: “Please tell him that this is my last warning. Thanks to his fists, my friend is crying. If he doesn’t apologize, we’re really over.”

Jun-pyo: “Why would I apologize when she can’t be thankful that I got rid of that trash for her?”

At his unpenitent response, Jan-di retorts that this attitude is typical of him — it was clearly beyond him to adjust to suit someone else. But now Ga-eul has to suffer for his actions. She shocks the others with the severity of her words when she says, “Don’t act like you know me anymore.”

The next time Ji-hoo finds Jan-di at the pool, she’s on the verge of a cold from all the swimming (and walking around with wet hair). Jan-di cautions, “If this is about Gu Jun-pyo, I’m not going to talk,” then proceeds to complain all about him. Because this involves her friend, “This time, I really can’t forgive him.”

Ji-hoo hands her some cold medicine — he’d anticipated that she would need it — and leaves her with one last bit of advice:

“Guys don’t do things for no reason in front of the girl they like. There’s always a reason. I’m speaking from experience, so you can trust me.”

Su-pyo continues to ignore Ga-eul’s calls, so Jan-di proposes seeking him out rather than waiting for him to call. Arriving near the club where he works, they spot him walking with a pretty, older girl. From a distance, the girls overhear as he complains about his ridiculous double-date fiasco.

Su-pyo makes himself out to be the martyr, then proceeds to trash both Ga-eul and Jan-di, calling them unfashionable and dumpy. He’d suggested to Jun-pyo that they ditch the girls and offered to introduce him to some club babes — which is when Jun-pyo had attacked, saying, “If you call my girlfriend names, you won’t be able to eat gopchang anymore with that mouth!”

At that point, Su-pyo glances over and notices the girls. Jan-di asks, “Is that true?” Ga-eul is hurt at Su-pyo’s dismissal — he tells her to stop bugging him, like some kind of stalker — which enrages Jan-di.

With a howl, Jan-di hops a fence, leaps at Su-pyo, and delivers her trademark spinning back kick to his face. Stomping on his chest, she yells, “One was for Ga-eul, and one was for my boyfriend!”

(Honestly, she and Jun-pyo really are two of a kind, aren’t they?)

Afterward, Ga-eul attempts to look on the bright side: “I’m glad. At least we found out that Jun-pyo sunbae isn’t a bad person.”

Though in a glum mood, Ga-eul urges Jan-di to apologize and make up with Jun-pyo, assuring her friend she’ll be fine on her own.

And now, Yi-jung gets his own storyline! He receives a hysterical call from a woman threatening suicide because of his father — who is also a ceramic artist and professor, who takes advantage of his position to have numerous affairs, presumably with his students. Yi-jung witnesses his father romancing yet another woman, and turns away in disgust.

In the lobby, he intercepts the woman as she’s leaving, attracting her attention by speaking flirtatiously. But then his voice hardens and he tells her she’s just one in a string of his father’s girlfriends — she’s too beautiful for that kind of treatment.

We can see where he gets his playboy tendencies, although I suppose Yi-jung isn’t so far gone as his father, because he still has a conscience.

Afterward, Yi-jung happens to be driving by as a depressed Ga-eul trudges along the busy sidewalk, then sits on the ground and starts to cry. Yi-jung tries to ignore her, then decides somewhat unenthusiastically to approach.

He teases Ga-eul for crying on the street, telling her, “Sometimes girls think they look pretty when they cry, but they’re wrong.” Unfortunately, his words push her over the edge, and her soft cries turn into loud sobs. Hilariously, Yi-jung uneasily pleads with her to stop, while insisting to curious passers-by that he’s not the one who made her cry.

At F4 headquarters, Ji-hoo asks if Jun-pyo has made up with Jan-di yet. Not noticing Jan-di’s silent arrival behind him, Jun-pyo vows that he wouldn’t make up with Jan-di even if she begged and insists on his innocence in the matter.

Amused, Woo-bin addresses Jan-di: “I guess you’ll have to go home then.” Jun-pyo looks up, startled, to see her standing there with a contrite expression.

Jan-di says, “I didn’t know you were so angry. I was just thinking of myself. I’m sorry, I’ll go.” Jun-pyo leaps over the couch to stop her.

Working up her nerve, Jan-di says haltingly, “Gu Jun-pyo… accept my apology!” and holds out an apple. (The word for apology and apple are pronounced the same.) Jun-pyo’s obviously pleased, but he’s got his pride to think of, so he keeps a straight face. He wants three wishes before accepting her apology. Jan-di reluctantly relents — but he has to name his wishes within one minute. Go!

Jun-pyo sputters that that’s not fair, all the while Jan-di counts steadily. Flustered, he instructs her to sit, then stand — which Jan-di counts as two wishes. With five seconds left, Jun-pyo blurts out his wish — she has to apologize while calling him “oppa.” In a baby voice. (Akin to saying, “Oppa, I’m sowwy.”)

Cringing, she tries to muster the words… then exclaims, “I can’t! Take the apology or leave it!” Woo-bin says wisely, “You should have accepted the apology when she offered.” Ji-hoo takes a bite of the apology apple, which Jun-pyo grabs back possessively.

Yi-jung takes Ga-eul to his pottery studio for some tea and sympathy. He startles her by dropping a ceramic bowl to the ground, but instead of breaking, it remains intact. “It’s stronger than it looks,” he says. Using a pottery metaphor, he asks if she knows how long it took for the bowl to get so strong, and explains the process for shaping it, then baking it in fire. But if, at the end of all that, it still isn’t right, “You have to let it go, cleanly, like this.” With that, he takes the bowl, wraps it in a towel, and smashes it with a hammer.

Yi-jung: “What I mean is, there are things we have to go through in order to become stronger, and to find our true selves. Like what you went through today.” Ga-eul answers, “I think I know what you’re saying. Thank you.”

He suggests going out to have some fun, since he had a bad day too. After taking her out for a makeover — which is frankly a little ridiculous since she’s so pretty to begin with — Yi-jung takes Ga-eul to a club.

But it seems Yi-jung has something more up his sleeve than mere flirtation, because her ex-boyfriend Su-pyo is there (which suggests this is the club where he works).

Yi-jung leaves Ga-eul by the bar and heads to the front of the club, where he makes a splash with a grand entrance. Even Su-pyo’s new girlfriend is impressed, recognizing Yi-jung. Thus she’s flattered when he addresses her, and asks if he can take the liberty of performing.

And then he busts out the saxophone.

It’s not often that I find an Yi-jung scene unwatchable, and yet here we are for the second time. Yi-jung makes the ladies’ hearts flutter by announcing, “There’s a person here who’s stolen my heart. I’ll perform this on her behalf.”

(To Kim Bum’s credit, he delivers this admirably with nary a grimace or smirk.)

Jun-pyo calls Jan-di out, and she grumbles all the way, still chafing at his treatment of her apology. She walks past the darkened park, looking up in wonder when an extravagant display of lights suddenly flickers on.

Jun-pyo stands in the middle of the playground, which he’s decorated with yet more lights: This is his version of Champs-Elysées. He asks, “Do you like it?” Happily, Jan-di nods, “It’s pretty. It’s like Christmas.”

(Okay, I get that this is a romantic gesture. But PD Jeon, ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? He has used this exact same scenario not once, but TWICE in prior dramas. (Clicky here for comparisons.) Seriously, the man must be in a creative slump, or maybe he just can’t work without the Hong sisters. COME ON. Way to ruin a perfectly nice romantic moment. I guess we should be glad Jun-pyo didn’t present Jan-di with a random cake, apropos of nothing.)

But back to the scene: Jun-pyo wonders what’s so great about Christmas, and she responds that it’s a happy day. Jun-pyo answers, “I’ve never had a happy memory of it.”

A flashback shows us a lonely Little Jun-pyo, being entertained by maids and his butler, delivered impersonal gifts from his parents.

Jun-pyo asks about the kimchi he helped make, and says, “I’d like to eat some.” Also, he enjoyed her mother’s cooking and the vending-cart fish sticks her father bought him.

Jun-pyo: “You know, I didn’t know what family was, but looking at your family, I think I have an idea. Can I drop by again?”
Jan-di: “Did you ever ask permission before coming?”
Jun-pyo: “I’m not joking.”

Jun-pyo rises from his swing and kneels in front of Jan-di: “I want to go. I want to, every day.”


COMMENTS

What I particularly like about Jun-pyo is that while I think it’s pretty clear his feelings for Jan-di exist with or without family (or friend) approval, their relationship has now introduced an additional, equally meaningful, aspect: a longing for family which I don’t think he realized he even had. Little Jun-pyo definitely felt his parents’ neglect, but I don’t think he’s ever really recognized the longing in a clear way.

Jun-hee, as the older sibling, holds more of a grudge against their cold mother, but Jun-pyo’s understanding of his loveless upbringing remains at an almost childlike level. That’s why he looks on at Jan-di’s family interactions with a naive kind of wonder — it’s not just the activities like kimchi-making or sauna-sharing that are new, but the emotions that underlie those interactions.

(Speaking of whom, I really like the tense dynamic between Jun-hee and her mother, and I hope Jun-hee’s character sticks around for a while.)

One reason I dig this development of Jun-pyo’s character is because when the couple inevitably faces family opposition in the future and is threatened with separation, the loss is going to be felt on both sides. (This isn’t a spoiler, just speculation — but c’mon, we all see it coming, right?) It’s not just that Jan-di may lose her rich, caring boyfriend, but her boyfriend loses his source of familial rapport as well. Also, I have felt (particularly in episodes 5 through 7, for instance) that Jan-di has not really brought a lot to this relationship, aside from capturing Jun-pyo’s interest. She had until recently gone along with his plans, but never really initiated anything until this episode. Now, she offers him something that balances out their relationship, and I am relieved.

EPISODE 10 RECAP

Yi-jung finishes his saxophone performance to much applause, because I suppose the musical display was supposed to be riveting, or something. (I’m going with “something.”)

Su-pyo notices the pretty girl standing nearby and starts to hit on her, not recognizing Ga-eul at first. When he does, he says with an impressed look that she should’ve done herself up before (read: she’s no longer boring now that she’s hot). He proposes they leave together.

Now knowing him for the douchebag he is, Ga-eul doesn’t appreciate his attention, and is thankfully interrupted by Yi-jung’s arrival. He asks if the guy is bothering her and whether she knows him. Ga-eul takes her cue from Yi-jung’s small head shake, which indicates the role she is to play, and answers, “No, I don’t know him.”

Yi-jung offers his hand, announcing to everyone, “This young lady is the one who stole my heart… Miss Ga-eul, don’t trouble yourself anymore and come to me now.”

You know, delivering crap dialogue well is a skill. I was embarrassed for Kim Bum, but he somehow manages to say such cheesiness with a straight face.

Ga-eul takes his hand and they leave the club. Outside, Yi-jung puts his scarf around her neck, saying, “This may be an act, but we may as well act it out fully.”

Act or no, Ga-eul is touched by Yi-jung’s help. Thus on the day before Valentine’s Day, she busies herself gathering materials to make chocolate (to give to a guy). At Jan-di’s interested questioning, Ga-eul answers that she’ll give hers to someone to whom she feels thankful. Ga-eul asks whether Jan-di plans to make any chocolate for Jun-pyo, and hands her some of her supplies, urging her to. Jan-di considers, then swipes more of Ga-eul’s stash for her use.

(There’s a little detour that’s not explained yet, but I suppose it will figure in future episodes. Basically, an old man enters, grumpily orders jajangmyun — which isn’t on the menu — and insists until the ajusshi makes him a bowl anyway. The man says it sucks, pays with one fish, and leaves saying he’ll want fish stew next time. The girls taste their boss’s jajangmyun, which is surprisingly good. I’m guessing the old man is their boss’s father or teacher or somebody.)

Remembering Ga-eul’s explanation for giving her chocolate to someone she’s thankful to, Jan-di thinks of who she’s thankful to, and STUPID GIRL WHY ARE YOU THINKING OF JI-HOO?

But phew, Jan-di busies herself making her Valentine’s Day offering — and omona, they’re curly-haired Jun-pyo chocolates! Adorable. I like how a bunch of them have disgruntled expressions on their faces.

Jan-di calls Jun-pyo out (to a Shinhwa building) to give him the candies, trying to play off her nervousness when he opens the box. In the moment of speechlessness while he takes in the curly-haired faces, Jan-di mumbles, “I was going to give it to someone else, but these are the ones that got messed up…”

But you can tell he’s touched, and even refuses to let her eat one.

Then, the Valentine’s Day event begins, showing us why Jan-di picked this particular spot to meet Jun-pyo.

It’s a couples event with a cell phone as a prize; the challenge requires one half of the couple to lift the other for as long as possible. Jun-pyo approaches this task unenthusiastically, but Jan-di is eager to win. He grumbles that they can just buy phones, to which she says she’d prefer to win one with her own skill. (He retorts that this is using his skill.)

After AnyPop and JandiCall, they must really, really not want to give AnyCall any free exposure. (Btw, I am assuming her cell was a gift from Jun-pyo and therefore find it endearing that he labeled her phone “JandiCall.”)

But as this is sponsored by Shinhwa Group, Madam CEO happens to pass by, and recognizes one participant.

Wow, she does the death glare really, really well. That woman could curdle milk with one stare.

Spotting the angry Madam Kang, Jan-di shrinks back, letting go and falling from Jun-pyo’s back. Jun-pyo is forcibly ushered out of the building by his mother’s employees and sent home.

Meanwhile, Ga-eul waits outside Yi-jung’s studio with her chocolates. Her girlish anticipation fizzles when he arrives with two older ladies on his arm. Seeing the bag she carries, one of the girls guesses they’re Valentine’s chocolates. They’re all very nice to her, but it’s almost worse that way; she tries, unsuccessfully, to turn down the invitation to step inside for some tea.

Ga-eul feels worse to see the huge mound of Valentine’s gifts on his table. It particularly stings when Yi-jung tells her casually, “Leave yours there, too.”

Upset, she excuses herself and leaves quickly. Yi-jung follows her out.

Reading the situation correctly, he says, gently but firmly, “Acting is just acting. It creates trouble if you misunderstand.” He takes the chocolates from her: “Until you meet the one you’re fated to be with, I’ll keep these. Thanks.” After he leaves, Ga-eul wipes away her tears.

Gloomily, Jan-di walks home carrying her bag of chocolates. She’s hunched in the middle of the sidewalk when Ji-hoo drives up on his motorcycle and announces, “Did you call for a driver?”

No, he’s not psychic — Jun-pyo called him as he was dragged home and asked Ji-hoo to pick Jan-di up. When Ji-hoo drops her off at home, he senses her troubled mood and asks her to call him if something happens, “although I hope you won’t have to.”

Madam Kang looks through a stack of photos showing Jun-pyo with Jan-di, and is apprised of Jan-di’s family situation. She’s displeased that Mr. Jung hadn’t reported this earlier. Perhaps covering up his sympathy for Jun-pyo, Mr. Jung answers that he’d assumed Jun-pyo was just picking on the girl.

Jun-pyo bursts in to face his mother and says, sternly, “Don’t mess with that girl.”

Madam Kang affects a blasé attitude (though she loses her temper at the end) as she says that a busy person in her position can’t be bothered with something so worthless.

Jun-pyo says, “Then we’re fine,” and leaves. Madam Kang instructs Mr. Jang, “Make preparations immediately.”

Jun-pyo drops by Ji-hoo’s house (and spots the chocolates on Ji-hoo’s table, which Jan-di left behind after he’d given her a ride home). Ji-hoo takes one and purposely bites into it, provoking Jun-pyo to grab at the other half and exclaim, “Don’t eat that!”

I like Ji-hoo best when he’s eating Jun-pyo’s things. It’s a pretty specific role to play, but he’s much funnier as the droll sidekick than a main character.

In any case, Jun-pyo has dropped by to talk things over with Ji-hoo. He worries, “Why am I so uneasy? It feels like something’s going to happen to her. What I’m most afraid of is that in the moment she comes into danger, I might not know it.”

Ji-hoo says reassuringly, “Don’t worry. You know Jan-di’s not weak. Don’t be afraid, either. You’ve always got us behind you.”

‘Bout freaking time we saw some genuine bonding scenes between these two. Better late than never?

Madam Kang drops in unexpectedly on the Geum family. In a tone of polite (though cold) civility, she sounds fairly reasonable, and Jan-di’s parents agree wholeheartedly, as she describes herself as a concerned mother who must make her son’s success a priority. Her tone is so mannered that it takes them a moment to register her words when she asks, “Do you know what’s most important in growing grass?”

Blankly, they wonder what she’s driving at, and she continues: “Cutting out the weeds. The most important thing is pulling the weeds, which do more harm than good, out by the roots.”

Mom asks, “Are you saying our Jan-di is a weed?” Madam Kang replies, “I’m glad it seems you understood.”

Although weeds are usually killed, Madam Kang proposes something else — and sets out a briefcase of money: 300 million won (approximately $220,000). She can provide more if they want, as this is all in the service of her son. Mr. Jung lays out a contract, which states that “I declare that I will give up all association with Gu Jun-pyo.”

The family is speechless. An insulted Mom grabs a bowl of salt and dumps it all over Madam Kang’s head. She demands, “Get out immediately!” Madam Kang warns, “You’ve made a huge mistake.”

The family applauds Mom for sticking to her principles, valuing their pride and honor over money. But Mom dashes those gallant images by insisting that no, money is the most important thing in the world — screw pride!

She explains that if Jan-di eventually marries Jun-pyo, all of Shinhwa Group becomes hers too — ergo 300 million won is way too small a number with which to be bought off. Glad to know Mom’s got a high selling point.

At school, Jan-di emerges from another stress-relieving swim, half-expecting to see Ji-hoo waiting for her. She wanders until she comes to an auditorium, where Ji-hoo practices at the piano. He invites her to play along before taking her home.

She smiles at him warmly when he drops her off, prompting him to wonder, “Why are you looking at me like that?” Jan-di responds, “It’s curious. Whenever my heart sounds the emergency alarm, you always appear.” (You mean, whenever your heart seeks him out and then rings its alarm in his general vicinity, right? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think she’s falling for Ji-hoo, but I do think turning to Ji-hoo instead of Jun-pyo is a hairy issue.)

Things take a turn for the worse when Jan-di’s parents receive word that their dry-cleaning business is being evicted. Their landlord’s son — who’s been unemployed for seven years — has been given a job by Shinhwa Group. Clearly Madam Kang is exercising some of her economic muscle. Furthermore, all the realtors have been warned not to rent to them.

Forced out of business, the Geum family rallies, taking to peddling food in the street to passing cars. Each family member sets out with gusto to sell coffee and snacks (Mom a little less so, shrinking back in embarrassment).

Madam Kang is aware of this latest development, and because she is sadistically eeeeevil, she orders her car to drive by. She’s dragged Jun-pyo along with her to make her point clear, then orders Mr. Jung to buy some rice snacks from the vendors.

Unhappily though dutifully, Mr. Jung complies, and Jan-di bounds over to offer the snacks. She takes a moment to recognize who’s inside the car — at which point her smile fades, replaced by an uncomfortable laugh.

Jun-pyo’s eyes widen in shock and he starts to get out of the car, but his mother grabs his hand tightly to hold him back. Jan-di watches the car pull away, trying to tamp down her hurt.

Mom maintains her grip on Jun-pyo’s hand, overriding Jun-pyo’s order for the driver to stop the car.

Does anyone else get creepy Manchurian Candidate vibes from Mama Kang here? I wasn’t expecting a Freudian/Oedipal element to present itself in this drama, but [smallvoice] I kind of like it [/smallvoice]. (Or is it reverse Oedipal, since it’s mother-to-son, instead of the other way around?) It makes her seem even creepier and more vindictive.

But Jun-pyo shakes off his mother’s hand and yells at the driver to stop. Leaving his mother glowering, Jun-pyo storms out of the car and walks straight for Jan-di, thinking, “Geum Jan-di, stay right there. Please just stay.”

Jan-di stands frozen in surprise, in the middle of the road, watching his approach.

(The scene is backlit horribly and the faces are almost impossible to make out (hehe, make out), so I’m using promo shots instead…)

I really like this next scene, so I’m just going to translate all of it.

Jun-pyo: “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jan-di: “So you could you push money at me again and say, ‘How much do you need?’”
Jun-pyo: “If your dry-cleaning business is in trouble, you can set up another one. Why embarrass—”

He catches himself, but Jan-di knows what he meant.

Jan-di: “Yeah. I — no — my family probably is embarrassing. But I’m not sorry for any of it.”
Jun-pyo: “What I mean…”
Jan-di: “Us dating and my family circumstances are different things. Plus, you can’t do everything for me your way just because you’re my boyfriend.”
Jun-pyo: “Then what should I do? Should I just watch as your whole family sells snacks on the street?”
Jan-di: “Yeah. Just watch.”
Jun-pyo: “What?”
Jan-di: “Don’t do anything and just watch, if you want to be my boyfriend.”
Jun-pyo: “Oi, Dry Cleaner.”
Jan-di: “It’s been a long time since you’ve called me that. But you know, I’m not a dry cleaner’s daughter anymore.”

Jan-di says the last bit with a bit of a smile, but Jun-pyo addresses her solemnly.

Jun-pyo: “Geum Jan-di. I’m not saying this to scare you, and there’s no reason for you to be afraid. Just know this. My witch of a mother is someone who’s capable of doing anything, at any time.”
Jan-di: “It seemed like it.”
Jun-pyo: “Promise me.”
Jan-di: “Promise what?”
Jun-pyo: “If something happens, you’ll tell me right away.”
Jan-di (nodding): “Okay.”
Jun-pyo: “One more thing. No matter what happens, you won’t run away from me.”

At that, Jan-di responds in a joking tone:

Jan-di: “Now that, I can’t promise.”
Jun-pyo: “What?”
Jan-di: “You know, I’ve wanted to run away a few times, but it was because of you, not your mother.”
Jun-pyo: “Hey!”
Jan-di: “I’ll promise. Whatever happens, your mother won’t be a reason for that.”
Jun-pyo: “It’s a good thing you’re Geum Jan-di.”
Jan-di: “Why?”
Jun-pyo: “I’m really glad that the commoner gangster Geum Jan-di is my girlfriend.”

Now his mood lightens: “That promise really puts my mind at ease.”

Jan-di offers Jun-pyo a can of coffee, which he takes. He grabs her hand and they walk off together. Later, at home, Jun-pyo takes out the coffee and stares at it, lost in thought.

(And now, I totally have this image in my mind of some desk drawer or cabinet in Jun-pyo’s room which houses a rotting apple, a half-eaten piece of chocolate, and a can of coffee.)



Jan-di hustles in search of another part-time job, which is the only reason she entertains an idea suggested by a sleazy-looking restaurant customer who asks how old she is. He’s disappointed to hear that she’s only in high school (therefore a minor), because he has a business that often hires (university-age) students, and he really likes her look.

After some hesitation, Jan-di asks how much he pays, and accepts his card.

More trouble awaits the Geum family when a group of thugs arrives at the curb where Jan-di’s parents have set up their makeshift snack stand.

They ask threateningly, “Who said you could operate here?” and proceed to overturn the stand and destroy all their goods.

Like I said, I much prefer Ji-hoo as the dryly amusing sidekick, which is a role he again fills, this time with Yi-jung. He asks to borrow Yi-jung’s phone, then slyly dials a number. When a female voice answers, Ji-hoo hands the phone to a bemused Yi-jung.

Recognizing Ga-eul’s voice, Yi-jung shoots Ji-hoo a dirty look but is forced to answer calmly.

Afterward, Ji-hoo drops by the gas station where Jan-di has taken up another part-time job. She has a cheerful attitude, saying she’s fine and not overworking herself. When her nose starts bleeding, he points out that her body betrays her lie, and dabs at her nose with his handkerchief, saying, “It’s upsetting” (which suggests he’s the one troubled by her situation). He covers that by adding, “If I were Jun-pyo, I would be upset.”

She asks him not to tell Jun-pyo about this, because “I want to take care of my part, so I feel things are fair.” Ji-hoo sighs, “I envy Jun-pyo,” then leaves.

Jan-di feels even more burdened when she learns that her brother, who is teased by schoolmates, has been skipping lunch at school to save money. Jan-di asks why he didn’t tell her, but he feels bad for all the work she’s been doing — she delivers newspapers and milk in the morning, works at the restaurant in the afternoon, and the gas station at night.

That prompts her to take out the business card from the sleazy customer for a business called Enjoy Productions. Finding the company’s “office,” Jan-di takes a look around the questionable setting.

Jan-di steps inside hesitantly, calling out, “Is anybody here?” And then the door slams shut behind her.


COMMENTS

I’ve been waiting for this series to drop its cutesy, overacting antics and go for some real drama — I know, so not the manga spirit!, but that’s what I feel Korean dramas do best. It’s also a way this series can make its mark in an already sprawling universe.

We don’t need a carbon copy of all the other versions, because then what would be the point? The Japanese Hanadan was an excellent live-action interpretation of an exaggerated, sometimes silly manga storyline. What I wanted to see was how this version could adapt the story we all know but make it its own.

I’m not saying it’s there yet, but I think we’re taking a bit of a turn. I hope they don’t go overboard with the dramatics, but I prefer that to slapstick overload. Gu Hye-sun is actually a pretty good dramatic actor, but for some reason they’ve been forcing her to act jokesy, which doesn’t use her to her best advantage. Jan-di, for instance, is growing on me more now that she’s not so exaggerated.

Also, I appreciate what they did with Ga-eul and Yi-jung, even if the budding relationship took a step back (or at least a step sideways), because I think this sets us up nicely for the future. After all, Ga-eul strikes me as a smart cookie, and she learns from her mistakes. The first time she was dazzled by Yi-jung’s appeal, she quickly revised her opinion when he seemed to look down on Jan-di. It wasn’t until he went out of his way to help her that she started to look at him differently and entertain a bit of a crush. Now that she’s seen him for who he really is — not a bad guy, just not the sweet image she’d built up in her head — she’s going to be wary of him in the future. Which means, if (when?) Yi-jung finds himself wanting to win her over for real, boy is he going to have to work for it. Right?



EPISODE 11 RECAP

Thinking to do something nice for Jan-di, Jun-pyo supplies the pool with scented salts, soap, and froofy spa items. Does he think she’s going to be settling in for a foaming bubble bath in a chlorinated pool? I suppose when you harbor a pathological fear of swimming, you end up hazy on the concept.

Yi-jung notices that he doesn’t seem happy. Jun-pyo answers, “I’m annoyed that this is all I can do for her.”

At the tawdry Enjoy Productions, Jan-di is persuaded to pose for what she is told is an academy (hagwon) brochure, despite the obvious warning signs. If the skeezy lighting and set decoration weren’t warning enough, aren’t the stuffed animals in fetishwear a telltale clue? I’m convinced that Episode 11 Jan-di is part cute tough girl, part idiot. Actually, minus the tough.

The shoot starts off tame enough — she’s dressed in a school uniform but asked to wear bunny ears — and then the two pervy ajusshis ask her to change into her next costume. Thankfully the writer remembers that Jan-di at least has half a brain, because she puts her foot down at the playboy bunny outfit.

The creepy men insist she continue and advance slowly, jazz hands waggling like they’re about to tickle her to death. Jan-di apparently forgets she is master of the high-flying spinning back kick, because all she does is shrink back and cower (what, did she lose part of her courage along with part of her brain?), waiting for someone to save her.

Thankfully, someone does. This is a guy she had bumped into on her way inside the building, who for whatever reason has sensed her trouble. He grabs Jan-di and ushers her outside.

He walks her home but declines to identify himself, saying that they’ll be meeting soon anyway, at which time he’ll introduce himself properly. He leaves saying, “Good night, Geum Jan-di sshi.”

Ga-eul and Jan-di puzzle over how her “black knight” knows her. Then Ga-eul and their boss drool over a hot new model on TV, the mysterious “Haje” (pronounced “ha jay”). Gee, I wonder who that could be.

At school, Jan-di’s grumbling stomach and the wafting smell of food lead her to an empty storeroom, where ramen is cooking. She calls out a greeting (and gets no response), then sneaks a taste because she’s starving. Uh, I’m pretty sure it’s a bad idea to eat anything out of an unknown pot in an unknown room, but like I said, it’s like Jan-di’s half-brain-dead for this episode. She eats.

The ramen owner/cooker walks in, catching her mid-bite — and she recognizes him as the black knight. This is Lee Jae-ha, looking mighty different from the cool, collected guy who’d helped her. He addresses Jan-di as “sunbae” (he’s a first-year, so probably 16 or 17) and confesses he’s her fan, seeing how she stood up to F4 like a “commoners’ hero.”

Jae-ha explains that he intentionally adopted a nerdy appearance at school, wanting to go unnoticed, since he doesn’t care for any of the people here anyway. Jan-di laughs because she can identify with that, and Jae-ha eagerly agrees that they’re from the same world. Since she was looking for work, he mentions a decent-paying gig doing errands at a photo shoot, which she accepts.

Jae-ha acts the part of the unassuming outsider when he bumps into Jun-pyo and apologizes profusely — but we see a flash of something darker when he glares at Jun-pyo’s back.

Jun-pyo comments how he’s barely seen Jan-di recently, and intends to whisk her off to Hokkaido for a short weekend jaunt. Thinking of her new job, Jan-di fumbles for an excuse, seizing on Ga-eul’s birthday — it’s their long-standing tradition for her to spend the night.

(I can see why she’d be uncomfortable telling Jun-pyo the truth — she may just not want him to worry after declining his financial help. But if this is her intention, the drama shows it poorly — because by lying, it makes it seem this is about Jae-ha more than the job, which makes me very, very cranky with Jan-di.)

Disappointed, Jun-pyo grumbles, “Am I more important, or Ga-eul?” Immediately, she answers, “Ga-eul,” then forces a laugh and promises to call.

On his way to his studio, Yi-jung spots Ga-eul at the door and keeps himself out of view as she walks away, watching her leave with a troubled expression. On the doorstep, he finds a bag she’d left, and the contents bring a smile to his face.

Yi-jung heads to a cake shop to buy a red heart-shaped cake, then catches up to Ga-eul on the street corner. She must be the slooooowest walker ever. Presenting her with the cake and flowers, he wishes her a happy birthday (to which she responds, “Huh?”).

Okay, this modeling job irritated me because it makes Jan-di seem like an idiot. First, she arrives with the nerdy Jae-ha, surprised that everyone knows him so well. Her job is to organize the jumbled clothing, and she looks at Jae-ha in shock when he walks out dolled up as Haje, looking hot and broody in his studded black leather and guyliner.

Although Jan-di had seen through the nerd glasses to recognize her dark knight, apparently she could not connect the dots to link her dark knight to Haje. (Ha-jae = Jae-ha, get it?)

After Haje’s shoot ends, the photographer asks who Jan-di is (Haje replies, “My girlfriend”; Jan-di contradicts him). The photographer comments on how good they look together and asks if Jan-di’s interested in modeling. Haje still needs a partner for an upcoming shoot, and they like how Jan-di looks with him.

When she hears how much the job pays, Jan-di agrees.

At Ji-hoo’s place, Jun-pyo stews over being pushed aside for Ga-eul, and how Jan-di’s always busy with activities except meeting him. Ji-hoo lets Jun-pyo rant, but his observant eye is drawn to Haje’s CF on television, and seems to recognize him.

Jun-pyo falls asleep in Ji-hoo’s bed, and Ji-hoo tucks him in. It’s cute, and I expect Jun-hoo (Ji-pyo?) fanvids any moment now.

After the photo shoot, Jae-ha and Jan-di chat over ramen in the early dawn hours. He mentions that his older brother would have liked Jan-di too, so she comments that they must be close. Turns out that his brother — his only family — is ill and currently receiving medical care.

Jae-ha gives her the gist of his family history while accompanying her on her morning deliveries (and we get some cute/appropriate music for once). His father was a rich lawyer who fooled around with a poor girl, and he and his brother resulted from the affair. Jan-di feels pity for him, but his glass is half-full — at least he didn’t grow up into a materialistic snob.

They’re chatting pleasantly when Ji-hoo pulls up on his motorcycle. Jae-ha starts to introduce himself politely, but Ji-hoo ignores this and fixes a disapproving (?) look on Jan-di. He tells her, “Jun-pyo came by last night. He was unhappy at being passed over for Ga-eul.”

Jan-di starts to explain, but Ji-hoo continues, “I’ll pretend I didn’t see you today.” He zooms off, leaving Jan-di feeling guilty — but Jae-ha smiles to himself behind her back.

The guys wonder at the change in Jun-pyo, who’s no longer ranting and raving. Jun-pyo reveals his new strategy — he’ll play hard to get and make her uneasy. (The others all think he’s bound for failure.)

Woo-bin notices Yi-jung wearing his… whaddayacallem… arm socks? Disembodied sleeves? Yi-jung doesn’t explain that they’re a gift from Ga-eul, answering, “They’re a little tacky, but they’re pretty warm.”

The school is abuzz when the magazine comes out featuring Jan-di and Haje’s photo on the cover (notice the mag is named Group 7. Ha.). The Jin-Sun-Mi trio are sick with envy over Jan-di’s inexplicable pull with Jun-pyo, Ji-hoo, and now their beloved Haje: “After you stole F4 away, Haje was the one person who gave us hope in our pain!”

Haje/Jae-ha interrupts: “I don’t really care about giving you guys hope.” He’s here in his Haje persona, and steps inside to take Jan-di by the hand, and lead her outside.

Students burst into F4’s private classroom to show Jun-pyo the magazine. Seeing Jan-di on the cover, dressed only in a man’s shirt and looking cozy with Haje, his eyes widen in shock. Jun-pyo throws the magazine and storms out.

He comes upon Jan-di with Jae-ha, and confronts her angrily, asking if she’d avoided him so she could be with “trash” like Jae-ha.

He sneers, “Geum Jan-di, you sure have grown up. Now that you’ve appeared in a magazine, do you think of yourself as some kind of successful model? Tell me — is the reason you couldn’t go with me to Hokkaido because you were doing stuff like this with him?”

Unable to deny it, Jan-di remains silent. Jun-pyo continues sarcastically: “Why don’t you insist that he’s Ga-eul? Or was it his birthday that day?”

Jan-di: “I’m sorry for lying. I was wrong. I’ll explain everything.” But Jae-ha laughs then, infuriating Jun-pyo.

Jun-pyo: “Did you just laugh?”
Jae-ha: “It’s a little funny. Do you have so little confidence with the girl you like? And before getting jealous, shouldn’t you first find out what situation your girl is in?”

It’s not like there’s a good thing to say to Jun-pyo at this moment, but that’s REALLY the wrong thing. Jun-pyo beats up Jae-ha, who doesn’t put up much of a fight.

Jun-pyo demands, “What do you know, to talk like that?!” Jae-ha tells him, “Jan-di sunbae is wasted on the likes of you.”

That only pisses Jun-pyo off more, and he continues punching Jae-ha until Jan-di bursts out, “Stop!” Nice of you to step in so quickly there, Jan-di. Maybe if you’d reacted a few minutes earlier instead of just standing there dumbly, you could have actually done some good.

Jun-pyo stops hitting Jae-ha, gets up, and approaches her as she explains, “He helped me outside of school. And he was a friend at school, the only person I connected with.” Even I winced at that. (Also: Jun-pyo aside, what about Mr. Soulmate, Ji-hoo?)

Jun-pyo asks: “The only one?” Grabbing her by the jacket, he barely keeps his temper in check, demanding, “What is that bastard to you?”

Fighting tears, Jan-di says, “I’m tired. I want to stop now.” He shouts her name in disbelief, as she continues, “I want to go back to before I knew F4 and Gu Jun-pyo.”

Jun-pyo lets go of her, and stalks off without another word. F3 follows him silently, with Ji-hoo pausing to give her a look.

And I say: WUT THE…? I suppose now she’s lost part of her heart to go with her missing brain and courage. Now all she needs is some tricked-out ruby shoes to get back home.

I do not understand Jan-di in this moment, at all. NOT ONE BIT. If the first half of the episode had been devoted to their relationship obstacles and Jan-di’s struggles (like in Episode 10), her defeated statement of wanting to quit might make a teensy bit of sense. But she has just hurt Jun-pyo — having LIED to him, making him look like a fool in front of the school, caught holding another guy’s hand — and THIS is when she’s too tired of their relationship to continue?

DOES. NOT. COMPUTE.

Well, she asked for it: Jan-di is delivered a second red card. Jae-ha comes up to her clutching his own red card, and assures her, “Don’t worry, now I’ll protect you.”

The cruel pranks resume, such as her desk being removed from class. Locating it outside, Jan-di pushes the desk back toward the building, when Jae-ha darts out and cries, “It’s dangerous!”

Jae-ha pushes her back just as a heavy potted plant crashes down from the second floor, toppling the desk.

Grimly, he tells her this is Jun-pyo’s doing. He points to the landing above, just outside F4’s private classroom. In disbelief, Jan-di shakes her head, saying, “No, he wouldn’t do that.”

After she leaves, Ji-hoo inspects the broken pot.

Finding Jan-di on her paper route, Ji-hoo explains that he’s known Jun-pyo for fifteen years: “I don’t think anyone can know someone completely. But I believe I know what kind of person he is. Do you think Jun-pyo’s behind it?”

Jan-di answers, “I want to believe in him.” Ji-hoo: “Whether you believe him or not is up to you. But did you send him away because of that guy?” Ji-hoo tells her that he didn’t pursue her because of Jun-pyo: “Don’t make me regret it.”

A notice on the chalkboard indicates that class has been moved to the science lab. The lab turns out to be empty, but Jan-di waits around, not noticing when a canister of gas rolls inside, slowly filling the room with its fumes.

When Jan-di does notice the smoke/vapor, she scrambles for the door, which is locked. All the windows have been nailed shut as well, so she pounds on the windows and screams for somebody to save her. BREAK THE DAMN GLASS, idiot. But it wouldn’t be a Jan-di crisis if she didn’t wait for a hero to save her instead of actually using her brains to save herself, right? This kind of stupidity needs its own name: Jan-distress (as in, damsel in)? Jan-disaster?

Jan-di coughs and collapses on the ground as Jae-ha runs up in the nick of time, smashes the window, and saves her. As he carries her off, he reminds her, “I told you I’d protect you.”

He takes her home, where he lingers over her as he puts her to bed, about to steal a kiss when he’s interrupted by his phone.

Jae-ha assures his caller — Mama Kang — that Jan-di’s sleeping in his bed, and reminds her to get his payment ready. He stares intently at a few photos of someone we can assume is his older brother.

At this news, Mama Kang smirks: “The kid is pretty good.” She pops open a bottle of champagne and lifts her glass to toast the progress of her Master Plan of Manipulation and Evilry.

The F3 guys have been unable to get a hold of Jun-pyo, and worry that he and Jan-di may really be over for good.

In the meantime, Jun-pyo has gone off alone somewhere and rejects all his calls. We eventually see where he has chosen to brood — he walks around the class trip location from Episode 3, when Jan-di had saved Jun-pyo from drowning and given him CPR.

Ga-eul bursts into the F4 lounge in tears, asking the guys for their help in finding Jan-di. She’s been unable to get in contact with her and something seems fishy — her family received a call that Jan-di was out with F4, which she obviously isn’t.

Woo-bin and Yi-jung hope that she’s with Jun-pyo, but Ji-hoo has other suspicions. He orders someone to contact Jun-pyo because Jan-di’s in danger.

Jan-di wakes up disoriented and groggy, shocked to find out she’s been unconscious for the past two days. Jae-ha assures her that he called her parents so they wouldn’t worry, saying she’d gone on a trip with friends.

Jan-di thanks him for his help and starts to leave, but Jae-ha asks if she still trusts Jun-pyo, warning that Jun-pyo is the kind of guy who would destroy her if he can’t have her for himself.

Jan-di tells him to watch his words: “There are things about Gu Jun-pyo that you don’t know, that I do.” Jae-ha counters, “No, there are things I know that you don’t… Way before you knew him, I’ve known what kind of person he was. He doesn’t see anyone outside of F4 as people. He’s someone who doesn’t consider other people’s happiness or lives.”

With certainty, Jan-di contradicts him: “No, he was like that before, but he isn’t now.”

Jae-ha grabs Jan-di to him, pleading with her to break up with Jun-pyo: “You weren’t right for each other from the start. Come to me. We understand each other. You and I are like minds in the same world.” Jan-di shoves him off.

Jan-di: “You’re someone I was grateful for, who became a supportive friend, but you’re not for me.”
Jae-ha: “You can’t still have faith in that jerk, can you? Even when you’ve gone through this?”
Jan-di: “I do, I believe in him. Because Gu Jun-pyo believed in me.”

Jae-ha tries to grab Jan-di for a kiss as she struggles against him. Breaking free, she slaps him.

Jae-ha tells her, “You’ll regret this. Please come to your senses!” Jan-di assures him that she’s seeing clearer than ever: “Thanks to you, I realize what I’ve done wrong. And what Gu Jun-pyo means to me.”

She leaves with the parting words: “There’s no such thing as Jae-ha’s world, or Jun-pyo’s world. It’s enough to look at the same thing from the same place.”

Jae-ha grabs Jan-di from behind and applies a (presumably drug-soaked) cloth over her nose and mouth, saying, “I warned you that you’d regret it.”



Jun-pyo returns home, unaware of everything that’s transpired in his absence. He’s immediately alarmed when his butler tells him F4 have been very worried because of Jan-di.

Jun-pyo is handed an envelope containing an anonymous letter bearing the ominous message: “If you want to save Geum Jan-di, come alone.” With it is a picture of Jan-di, bound and gagged, and a lock of her hair.

With Jan-di in danger, Jun-pyo pretends nothing’s wrong and insists on going to bed undisturbed. Once he’s alone, though, he dons black clothing and grimly prepares to meet the kidnapper.

Hearing Jun-pyo’s returned, the guys rush to his house, but find his door locked. The butler, agreeing with Woo-bin’s misgivings, defies Jun-pyo’s orders and unlocks the door, telling them of the odd letter that was delivered earlier.

The room is empty, curtains billowing in the open window.

Somewhere in a dark warehouse, Jan-di wakes up from her drugged sleep, tied to a chair. (Did anyone else immediately think to the RIDICULOUS Witch Amusement Episode 14 kidnapping? Which, btw, is an episode I already referenced when comparing the lights scene in Episode 9.)

Jae-ha owns up to everything, boasting of his perfectly executed plan — the photo shoot, the red card, the science lab. He assures her, “I had a reason — actually, two.”

She wonders at his motives, so Jae-ha tells her, “Look at me. Don’t I remind you of someone?”


COMMENTS

Even if you weren’t familiar with the storyline, I had a feeling from Episode 1 that this actor — Jung Eui-chul — would be coming back. He’d given a strong enough performance that it seemed unlikely he was cast in such a tiny role unless there was more planned for him.

(Born in 1985 and 186cm tall, Jung debuted as a model, after which he appeared in the TV shows Hello My Teacher and Rainbow Romance, as well as movies Doremifasolatido, Beastie Boys, and Romantic Island.)

Regarding Jae-ha’s role: I like fast-moving storylines. When you know the general outcome of the drama, there’s not a lot of reason to draaaaag out conflicts. But in this case, I wish they’d drawn out the Jae-ha storyline a little — not for the exaggerated melodrama, but because I think it could have been a good chance to extract some development out of our characters. By which I mean, he could have been a great foil to Jun-pyo in a way not even Ji-hoo could accomplish.

For instance: Jun-pyo tends to order Jan-di around, even when he has her best interests at heart. With Jae-ha, the dynamic is different, partly because Jan-di is older and partly because Jae-ha (before going evil-genius on us) seems to respect her and defer to her. It would have been nice to see that contrast played up more. I suppose Ji-hoo was supposed to do that, but Jung is a good actor, so perhaps that’s why I feel this could have presented a more compelling triangle.

As for Jan-di’s absurd and nonsensical actions? I AM SO ANNOYED. I’m glad she came around in the second half of the episode — about halfway through, things took a marked upswing — but the first half had me totally confused. How could she break up with Jun-pyo so easily, after all they’d gone through to stay together? What about all the sweetness and light of Episodes 9 and 10, and the lovely promise she made that she wouldn’t be scared off, and the kiss that (literally) stopped traffic?

Ms. Writer Lady: THIS STORY DOES NOT WORK WITHOUT JAN-DI. Please bring back the Jan-di who made sense!

EPISODE 12 RECAP

Jae-ha admits his villainy and claims credit for everything. He points out the irony of a guy losing his girl at his own mother’s order. It’s too bad Jan-di turned him down, because Jae-ha was planning on splitting the money (from Madam Kang) with her. But, “The moment you rejected my proposal, the goal in my game became one thing: Gu Jun-pyo.”

Jan-di asks why he’s bent on revenge — what exactly did Jun-pyo do to him? Jae-ha answers that technically it was his brother who was wronged — he was F4’s rooftop victim. He’s nearly crippled now, “but he smiles whenever he talks about you.”

It seems his feelings for her were genuine, however: “Yeah, I wanted revenge, but as we became friends, I thought that if you came to me, the revenge didn’t matter.”

Jun-pyo bursts in, his foremost concern for Jan-di’s safety, and asks Jae-ha to let her go. At Jae-ha’s instruction, the guys beat the heck out of Jun-pyo. Sobbing, Jan-di screams for them to stop.

Jae-ha offers to send Jan-di away — if Jun-pyo begs for mercy on his knees. Since begging won’t help Jun-pyo (ostensibly they’ll continue beating him after letting her go), Jan-di yells at him not to do it.

More thrashing. Now Jae-ha instructs him to vow, on camera, that he’ll give up Jan-di. Jun-pyo spits blood (and whoa, fake-blood overload there), saying, “I can’t do that.” Incredulously, Jae-ha asks, “Do you want to die?” Jun-pyo responds, “I don’t want to die, but if you’re going to kill me, what can I do.”

For what it’s worth, since he’s being paid off by Mama Kang, I doubt Jae-ha means to kill him — just maim him a little. Or a lot. Grabbing a chair, Jae-ha demands that Jun-pyo give up Jan-di.

As he swings the chair downward, Jan-di jumps forward to protect Jun-pyo, crumpling to the ground when the chair breaks across her back.

And then, F4 to the rescue! (Arg, no, this is not ALMOST PAAAARADIIIIIIIIIIIIISE. Perhaps the production heard our complaints, because at least we get the instrumental version of the song. But still.)

On the upside, we get to see the F4 boys kicking some ass. Woo-bin takes out several thugs, while Yi-jung is so smooth he delivers a few swift kicks with his hands in his pockets. Even the gentle Ji-hoo gets a bit of action, but in keeping with his sensitive image, he subdues Jae-ha by twisting his arm rather than throwing a punch.

Jun-pyo, badly injured, clutches an unconscious Jan-di.

When she awakens, she’s in a hospital bed, while Jun-pyo sits in a wheelchair at her bedside. He says she nearly scared him to death, which is a sentiment she returns: “Why did you just take the hits? You said you could take on more than ten guys like that with no problem. Liar.”

Jun-pyo: “Idiot. Stupid. Double-digit-IQ dummy. How could I do that when you were captured? I’d rather get all my ribs broken than let them damage one of your fingers. But still, why did you rush in when I was letting them beat the hell out of me? What if something happened?”

Jan-di repeats his words back to him (double-digit IQ, dummy), and they proceed to bicker, which is how we know that all is well.

When Jan-di returns home, her mother and brother are sobbing and their home is in shambles. At first I thought this was Madam Kang’s doing, but turns out Dad got dragged off by loan sharks. (I assume the family took out private loans to stay afloat, although we know there were gambling issues in the past too.) The debt collectors threatened to sell Dad’s organs if they don’t come up with the money right away.

Without other options, Jan-di’s mother swallows her pride and begs for help from Madam Kang. True to her warning, Madam Kang does not issue second chances easily, and coolly says that everything has its systematic order: “Wrongs must be apologized for, debts repaid, then help given. I am a businesswoman, so I cannot abide calculations and procedures that are not conducted properly.”

Mom prostrates herself on the floor; Madam Kang looks pleased behind her paper but shows no emotion to Mom, who takes out a parcel. It’s a bowl of salt, which she pours over her own head, pleading for forgiveness.

Even Madam Kang looks surprised at that. Satisfied now, she extends a hand to Mom. Knowing how frightening she can be, any sign of kindness coming from her is especially ominous.

With Madam Kang’s money, Jan-di’s father is freed. With somber faces, Jan-di’s family explains to her how they got the money — and everyone knows what that means for Jan-di’s relationship with Jun-pyo. Mom argues to keep the money but Dad insists upon returning it, saying that he’ll handle their debt one way or another.

Feeling guilty, Dad asks, “You really like Jun-pyo, don’t you?” She answers, “You’re more important, Dad.”

Dad: “I’m sorry, for being a burden to my daughter’s love.”
Jan-di: “Who said anything about love?”
Dad: “It is. That’s love, Jan-di. That makes him as dear a person to you as your dad.”
Jan-di: “If I’m not sure of that myself, how can you know?”
Dad: “I’ve been Dad to my pretty daughter for 19 years, how could I not know?”

I really like this scene, when Jan-di returns the money — the emotions are played just right, not too extreme or melodramatic. Jan-di’s tone is respectful, and Madam Kang’s is likewise measured and civil. She suggests that in Jan-di’s situation, it would be wise not to stand on her pride foolishly. But Jan-di turns to go, and Madam Kang seems almost a bit desperate when she offers more money.

Madam Kang: “Fine, let’s make a deal.”
Jan-di: “Please don’t insult me or my family anymore.”
Madam Kang: “Then do you really mean to date my Jun-pyo?!”
Jan-di: “I think that’s between the two of us.”

Madam Kang struggles to maintain her composure, then offers, “Fine, let’s be honest with each other. I admit that we have caused problems for you and your family. So please accept that you are not suitable for Jun-pyo.”

Jan-di nods: “Yes, Gu Jun-pyo and I are very different. I admit that.” Thinking Jan-di is agreeing, Madam Kang smiles, but it fades as Jan-di continues, “But do you know this? The two of us are in the same place, looking at the same thing. I made him a promise that you would never be my excuse for breaking up with him.”

Madam Kang says that this is an unprecedented opportunity to collect a high price on a “worthless” commoner family’s pride. Now Jan-di’s insulted: “I hadn’t known pride had a price. Then how much is your pride worth?” Madam Kang: “Unbelievable.”

Jan-di: “I hope you will change your thinking that commoners’ pride can be bought with money. People’s hearts can’t be bought, either. You don’t know that, do you? But Gu Jun-pyo knows that now.”

Jan-di is so distracted on her way out that she doesn’t even notice Ji-hoo, walking right past him. Sensing yet another Jan-di emergency, he cheers her up by making pancakes (using her recipe), which is his cure for the blues.

You know what else is a cure for the blues?

Skiing, apparently.

All of a sudden, our main cast is enjoying the snow at a winter resort, where Jun-pyo teaches Jan-di how to ski (she’s by far the worst). It’s kind of cute how she’s going so slowly that he walks alongside.

Later that night, the guys notice Jun-pyo fiddling with a necklace, contemplating it intently. Woo-bin jokes that Jun-pyo’s bound to screw up when he tries giving Jan-di the gift, and although Jun-pyo tells the guys to knock it off, he seems worried about that very thing.

Therefore, Ji-hoo takes it upon himself to set things in motion, to help Jun-pyo get over his nervousness by forcing them together. Ji-hoo first sends Jan-di on an errand — getting coffee — then calls Jun-pyo out.

The tactic works, and gets the ball rolling. Jun-pyo manages to figure out the rest on his own — he drapes his jacket around Jan-di, deliberately putting her hand into the pocket so she finds the necklace, which she draws out curiously.

Idiot Jan-di is back for a moment, because she thinks it’s HIS, and teases that it’s way too feminine for him. (Jun-pyo’s facial reaction is hilarious.) He tells her it’s hers.

He says, “There’s only one like it in the world, so if you lose it, you’re really dead this time.” Jun-pyo had designed and ordered it himself, and explains its meaning: He’s the star, and she’s the moon inside, because Jun-pyo the Star won’t ever leave Jan-di the Moon. Somehow that sounds rather possessive in English, but it’s pretty sweet in Korean.

Taking advantage of the romantic moment, Jun-pyo leans in to kiss her, but cough/sneezes at the last moment. Jan-di returns the jacket and puts it over him; Jun-pyo reaches a happy compromise (symbolism!) by sharing.

Jan-di worries to Ga-eul, because hearing that Jun-pyo made the necklace specially for her adds to the pressure to keep it safe. Ga-eul thinks that’s a happy problem: “If someone told me, ‘I made this for you’ and gave me a one-of-a-kind keepsake, even if it’s just a piece of glass, I’d be so happy.” (Yi-jung, are you listening?)

Speaking of whom, Ga-eul spots Yi-jung heading out with Woo-bin and has a sudden desire to ski, dragging Jan-di onto the slopes.

The Jin-Sun-Mi Trio, who happen to be at the same resort, overhear the necklace conversation. As always, they are overcome with envy, particularly Ginger (whose real name isn’t actually Ginger — I think it’s Jin-ju; it seems they use the English names as their shtick).

Keen to stir up trouble, Ginger orders her underlings to swipe the necklace, which they do by knocking Jan-di down, then helping her up clumsily. With Jan-di distracted, they swipe the pendant.

Having skied further down the slope, Ga-eul looks up at Jan-di in concern, so when a careless snowboarder barrels down the slope almost drunkenly, Jan-di notices first. She shouts a warning.

Nearby, Yi-jung hears Jan-di’s yell and spies Ga-eul about to be hit by the snowboarder. It’s a good thing he just happens to be unstrapped to his snowboard at the moment, as we all do in the middle of a ski run, so he can run at her and push her out of harm’s way.

Worriedly, Yi-jung asks, “Miss Ga-eul, are you okay? Wake up! Can you hear me?”

Ga-eul slowly opens her eyes, obviously not hurt but taking her time to appreciate this. LOL. It’s adorable how she can’t hide how much she’s enjoying this situation.

Hey, it’s hard having a crush on a guy like Yi-jung; let the girl savor the moment, right?

There’s trouble brewing at home, referenced indirectly in a phone call from Madam Kang to her husband. Something’s wrong with Shinhwa Group, and Madam Kang insists she’ll manage the problem, only to have the line suddenly go dead.

Worried, she tells Mr. Jung that things don’t look good, and instructs him to locate Jun-pyo. They’ll have to leave the country immediately.

Back at the resort, Ga-eul notices Jan-di’s missing her necklace, which sends Jan-di on a panicked hunt all over her room. The Mean Girls find Jun-pyo, slyly saying that they’re pretty sure she lost his special necklace. Or maybe she threw it away.

Jun-pyo comes upon Jan-di mid-search, and asks why she isn’t wearing the necklace. She hems and haws at first, then comes clean and begs for forgiveness: “I’m sorry. I was definitely wearing it, but I don’t know when I lost it.”

He asks, “It wasn’t because you wanted to lose it?” — because this is becoming a pattern, and he’s growing frustrated. “You do this every time. Whenever I try to get closer, you trample my heart like it’s nothing. Do I still mean so little to you?”

I can see his point, but Jan-di’s got one too, since this really wasn’t her fault. She says, “Don’t misunderstand. That’s really not how it is.” But he tells her that her behavior is getting really tiresome, and leaves.

I was a little worried that his words sounded so serious, but he’s just venting; he seems much less upset outside. (He gives a snowman (snowgirl?) a Jan-di-like hat and flicks snowballs at it in irritation.)

Hearing footsteps, he thinks it’s Jan-di and starts to go off on how the necklace was one of a kind — but they’re his mother’s employees, here to collect him. Jun-pyo refuses to go, beating them off when they try to force him to leave. Ultimately, though, he is subdued into going.

Jan-di goes around the ski lodge asking everyone if they’ve seen her necklace, and runs into the Jin-Sun-Mi girls. They give her a “tip” — someone posted a notice about finding the necklace — and direct her to the location.

Using that information, Jan-di heads off, leaving just before the latest blizzard warning comes in. Okay, wandering outside is pretty stupid of her, but for once I can’t be too irritated with Jan-di because I would probably want to do the same thing. The thing that DOES irritate me, though, is that apparently the cold has also robbed her of the ability to walk upright, because she falls over every few feet for no discernible reason.

Ga-eul finds Jan-di’s note and alerts F3. Although they worry for her safety, they’re unable to go out looking for her because the paths have been blocked.

With the weather worsening, one of the Mean Girls starts feeling bad. They didn’t intend Jan-di physical harm, but Ginger maintains the hard line and says Jan-di had it coming.

Ji-hoo overhears this, and guesses they’ve done something to Jan-di. Eyes bulging (sorry, not his best look), he demands to know what they did.

F3 call Jun-pyo to let him know the situation. As he’s currently being driven away by his mother’s men, he has to lie to get them to pull over (for a bathroom break), at which point he gives them the slip by disguising himself in someone else’s clothing.

He hitchhikes back to the resort, then takes a snowmobile to the slopes, pleading with Jan-di mentally to hang in there — as he promised (with the star-moon analogy), he won’t ever be able to ditch her. I wonder if Lee Min-ho is getting tired of delivering bad dialogue. It’s to his credit that he commits to it fully.

When the snowmobile breaks down, Jun-pyo continues on foot until he finds Jan-di collapsed in the snow. She must be emitting her mysterious power to call heroes to her side whenever she’s in trouble. She needs a beacon like the Bat Signal. A Jan-Distress Call, if you will.

Barely conscious, Jan-di recognizes Jun-pyo and mumbles weakly, “I came to find your heart. I didn’t lose it on purpose.” (Okay, that line was kind of sweet.)

Jun-pyo carries her on his back, urging her to stay awake. Coming upon an empty cabin, he tries to warm her up quickly, stripping off her soaked outer clothing. Holding her to him, he tells her, “Don’t worry, it’s fine. It’ll be fine. I’ll protect you.”

Wow, they were just itching to get Lee Min-ho topless again, weren’t they?

Some time later, Jun-pyo has built a fire and given his dry clothing to Jan-di to keep her warm, shivering while he remains cold. When she pushes the jacket toward him, he rejects it. She urges him to take it, so once again they (symbolically) share the covering.

Jan-di: “I’m sorry.”
Jun-pyo: “If you’re sorry, that’s good enough. Don’t forget I saved your life this time.”

She asks (half-joking, half-meaningfully), “How should I repay you?” A bit surprisingly, he answers, “A lunchbox,” by which he means the ones she eats every day: “Actually, the first time I saw it, I wanted to try it.” Jan-di promises to make it for him: “Let’s pack lunches and go on a picnic, the two of us.”

(The Law of Kdramas says: If a kiss in a semi-romantic moment is messed up earlier in an episode, it must be made up for in a more romantic moment later.)

In the morning, Jan-di and Jun-pyo make it back to the lodge, relieving their worried friends. Ji-hoo hands over the star-moon necklace, which may be symbolic of his letting go of Jan-di (I think?).

It’s nice that Jan-di and Jun-pyo have already resolved their issue with the necklace, so its return doesn’t magically “solve” their relationship problem. Instead, Jan-di and Jun-pyo trade small smiles, which Ji-hoo notices with a little sadness.

So when they return home, Jan-di packs the lunchboxes for their promised picnic, and omg it’s JUN-PYO RICE!!

I had thought the Jun-pyo-face chocolates in Episode 10 were the adorablest things ever, but the Jun-pyo dosirak totally wins the Jun-pyo-face-shaped-foodstuffs category.

Jan-di waits for a while, although she does so uncomplainingly, remembering how Jun-pyo waited in the snow for four hours. She isn’t aware of the latest news that Daddy Gu has suddenly collapsed while on a trip to China.

Jun-pyo, who’s about to leave with his mother to his father’s bedside, asks Ji-hoo to pick up Jan-di. Ji-hoo urges Jan-di to hurry, because they only have half an hour before the plane leaves.

Unfortunately, they’re too late. Some distance from the airport, Ji-hoo pulls over and Jan-di watches the Shinhwa plane take off.

Jan-di cries (saddened at not having the chance to say certain things to him, like how much she likes him), while Ji-hoo comforts her.

From the plane, Jun-pyo sends her a text message, which reads:

“I’ll come back soon.
Stay there, and wait for me.
I love you, Geum Jan-di.”


COMMENTS

This is a tiny point, but one thing I was disappointed about was the fact that we won’t get to see Jun-pyo’s reaction to the Jun-pyo Rice Face Lunchbox.

I really appreciate how Madam Kang is being portrayed, particularly in this episode. Lee Hye-young is acting the hell out of the character, and she gives her a complexity I wasn’t expecting. I thought the Japanese Kaede was fantastic, but Madam Kang manages to be scarier, yet also more vulnerable at moments. That’s unexpected. Case in point: the conversation when Jan-di returned the money, which both actresses acted with nuance.

Yes, I love that Mama Kang is evil, and scary, and possibly a little too obsessed with her son. But I also love that she’s being acted as a human, not a live-action Cruella de Vil (pointy collars notwithstanding).

You know, I’m a fan of the Ga-eul and Yi-jung pairing, but I agree with sentiments that this relationship is being built on shaky ground. I’m not sure their development is occurring completely logically, although I don’t blame this on writers throwing them together based on fan response. I’m pretty sure they were going to make this match from the beginning (although they were probably waiting to see how viewers reacted). It helps that they’re a side couple, so fans are more willing to accept bumps in continuity. (Arm socks? Where did THAT come from? I know they were a present from Ga-eul — but more importantly, WHY?)

Still, despite the shortcomings I find myself rooting for them — I think part of why the Ga-eul and Yi-jung pairing is compelling is because it hasn’t been done before. (Yes, some complain that this isn’t “canon,” but if it DID follow canon I’m sure we’d get complaints on the other end saying that this is yet another disappointing non-romance. If fans were disappointed that the two never got together in the other two dramas, why disappoint a third time for the same reason?)

Since they may be diverging from the previous storyline, we don’t know how this is going to end. Maybe they won’t end up together, but because this feels like new ground, it keeps people interested. At least it does for me.

SPOILERY(?) SPECULATION

Stop here if you don’t want to read speculation for future episodes.

As you may know, Episode 13 is going to jump ahead in time. Apparently F4 will be attending university, but as they are already in their last year of high school, I’m not sure if they’re jumping one year, or several. But if Jun-pyo’s father ends up dying, this sets him up nicely to take on the mantle of Shinhwa Group leadership. I’m sure he won’t take over completely — his mother is more than capable — but I can see how this presents a different kind of conflict. As much as I enjoyed the Japanese Hanadan, I never really bought Doumyouji as running the company, but I can see Jun-pyo take this position believably. It probably has to do with how Jun-pyo has been shown to be serious and smart on occasion.

EPISODE 13 RECAP

Jun-pyo’s father passes away after collapsing in China, and Jun-pyo is named the managing director of Shinhwa Group. The big news (aside from Daddy Gu’s passing), is that Shinhwa is now entering plans for a “global project” — an international resort.

Episode 12 left off near the end of the school year; we pick up nearly half a year later. The F4 guys have graduated and moved on to university (not yet sure about Jun-pyo), while Jan-di has entered her final year of high school.

She has not heard from Jun-pyo since his departure, nor have the rest of F4 kept in steady contact. Ga-eul gripes that the guys (plural, but she means one in particular) must be busy having fun at college: “They’ve probably forgotten all about so-called friends and gone girl-crazy.”

The cranky old man comes back to the porridge shop; he’s been back several times since we last saw him, each time ordering something unusual. He eats with gusto, but refuses to give out compliments; instead, he gruffly says he only cleaned his plate to avoid wasting food.

Cranky Gramps treats Jan-di affectionately, saying that the more he looks, the more she resembles a lotus flower: “Do you know why the lotus flower blooms in mud?” He assigns that question as “homework” for his next visit. Her boss advises her to listen carefully, because Gramps isn’t the type to say something without reason.

I think it’s safe to say that Crankypants is indeed Ji-hoo’s grandfather (I was hesitant to believe it, because shouldn’t the girls have recognized their former president?) who has a long-standing connection to the restaurant boss, whom the girls call Master.

An old newspaper clipping shows the old man with Master Master’s father, the former lauded head chef at the Blue House (the presidential residence). (Is his name — Bom Sung-chan — a reference to Kim Rae-won’s genius chef in Gourmet, perhaps?)

Jan-di tries to keep a happy face in the face of Jun-pyo’s lack of contact, with little success. Whenever his name crops up, Jan-di’s expression grows more glum. Her blues are not helped by the fact that her shoulder has been troubling her, although she shrugs it off as minor.

To make money, the family have taken to decorating dolls as a side job, but they soon rejoice when Dad succeeds in getting a job.

And then, Ji-hoo conducts an orchestra. I DON’T KNOW WHY. Must we have a Beethoven Virus reference to go with the Gourmet one? You, sir, are no Kang-mae. (Or Kim Myung-min.)

Perhaps this is to show Ji-hoo’s university pursuits, but a little explanation — or even context — would be nice. As he leaves rehearsal, he walks down the staircase as the cleaning lady stumbles. He catches her; it’s Jan-di’s mom, who is immediately awed at Ji-hoo’s beautiful face. As for this scene’s purpose? WHO KNOWS.

Ji-hoo finds Jan-di in the swimming pool, struggling with her bum shoulder. This isn’t the first time he’s noticed the pains, because he chides her for not going to the hospital. Jan-di she says that doctors told her everything was fine, but he doesn’t seem to believe her, and Jan-di looks worried.

Ji-hoo takes Jan-di to the auditorium, where he’s set up a videocamera. He sits her down to record a message to Jun-pyo, saying that although F4 has had a hard time getting in touch with Jun-pyo following his father’s funeral, he intends to get this message to him.

Ji-hoo presses “record” and steps aside. Jan-di starts hesitantly, but about halfway through she warms up and starts smiling.

Jan-di: “Gu Jun-pyo. Can you hear me? While you’ve been away, I’ve thought of you every day — but why do I only remember us fighting? Still, isn’t it odd? I only remember us fighting and getting mad all the time, but when I think about you, I laugh. Gu Jun-pyo, you’re okay, right? When are you going to come back and fight with me?”

Nearing the end, a tear falls, which she wipes away quickly as she wraps up her message.

I think Ji-hoo senses Jan-di’s sadness, so he relieves some of the tension by playing a tune on the piano. Jan-di joins him in playing the melody.

The tune is an old trot song by Shim Soo-bong, called “사랑밖에 난 몰라” (“I Only Know Love”).
[ Download ]

But you may prefer a remake, such as this one sung by Joo Ji-hoon in The Naked Kitchen. This “chanson version” was featured in one of the movie previews. [ Download ]

Ga-eul drops by to talk to Yi-jung, and while she has a legitimate reason — Jan-di and Jun-pyo’s relationship — I think she’s happy to have any excuse to see him. She admires Yi-jung as he works intently, and there are a LOT of slow-motion glamour shots — lordy, I love Kim Bum and all, but even I was like enough already.

Yi-jung, aware of her presence all along, teases her by asking, “Am I that cool?” He guesses her reason for coming and refers to Ga-eul’s belief that there’s one love out there for everyone: “Do you think Jun-pyo is the one love for Jan-di? Is he really her soulmate?” He thinks she’s just transferring her own beliefs onto Jan-di and says dismissively, “If it were me, I’d spend the time looking for my soulmate — although I’m not even sure stuff like that exists.”

Feeling insulted, Ga-eul starts to leave, thinking it was a mistake to come by. But she thinks twice and turns back, then points out that he believes in soulmates, too.

For the first time, Yi-jung’s unshakable calm is disturbed as she continues, “They say a strong denial is like an affirmation. I think I understand now. You do believe they exist — you’re afraid that they do. Why is that?”

This gets to him. He warns, “Don’t act like you know me so easily.” Ga-eul, however, has regained some of her confidence: “Today’s the first time I feel like you’re a real person. I’m glad I came after all.”

Ji-hoo drops by Jan-di’s work to take her somewhere. Cranky Gramps, who is inside, therefore spots Ji-hoo as they leave together, which I’m sure will be important later.

Ji-hoo knows that Jan-di hasn’t been to the doctor for her shoulder, and takes her to the hospital. The injury, which arose after she was hit with the chair to protect Jun-pyo, would have been more treatable had she come earlier (which she probably didn’t because of hospital fees). The doctor assures her that she’ll be able to recover and live a normal life — but her swimming days are over.

That’s pretty devastating news, and sends her into a (deeper) funk. Jan-di heads to the pool and explains to Ji-hoo, fighting tears:

Jan-di: “I know that I’m not pretty, I’m not smart, I’m not rich. But there was one thing I liked, that I could do better than other people. They say I have to quit — I can’t swim anymore. What do I do now?”

It’s not just that she’s lost her favorite sport, but in the midst of all her relationship uncertainty, this is the last thing that she had faith in, and now it’s like Jan-di’s been set adrift. She points out that Ji-hoo has his music, Yi-jung has his pottery, and Jun-pyo and Woo-bin will inherit their family’s companies. They all have their futures carved out for them, but she doesn’t know what to do now.

Ji-hoo promises to help: “Let’s figure it out together.”

At Ji-hoo’s place, Jan-di looks at photographs of his family, and Ji-hoo explains matter-of-factly that the car accident that killed his parents had been his fault. He had been playing in the backseat while his father drove. He was found in his parents’ arms; everyone said it was a miracle he survived. However, his grandfather never returned after that: “He must have hated the grandson who killed his own son.”

It was then that Seo-hyun had held his hand and told him to start over. He tells Jan-di, “This time I think it’s my turn” — to hold her hand and be her support, that is.

And so, Jan-di packs away her swimming things into a box. Bye-bye, Park Tae-hwan posters! You are now symbolically meaningless! Jan-di hesitates when she pulls out Jun-pyo’s gift from the auction (Park Tae-hwan’s goggles), but packs that in the box, too.

That doesn’t mean she’s giving up on Jun-pyo, though. Because the producers can’t think of a cleverer way to give Jan-di her moment of clarity, she happens to catch a television drama that her family is watching. The scene mirrors exactly her conversation with Ji-hoo at the airport (WTF?), when she urged him to not be cowardly and go after Seo-hyun. Hearing her own words spoken by someone else, Jan-di is reminded of her own advice not to give up, and to fight for love.

Well, if the mountain won’t come to Muhammad, Muhammad must go to the mountain. She asks Master for an advance in salary to buy a plane ticket. Trouble is, he doesn’t have 2 million won to give her. On the other hand, they might be able to earn the amount by selling porridge lunchboxes.

Ga-eul and Jan-di are doing pretty miserably, but what would an episode of Boys Before Flowers be without F3 magically swooping to save the day? (I am getting very tired of this, by the way.)

Hearing of Jan-di’s intention to earn money to visit Jun-pyo, who’s overseeing the new project in Macau, F3 pitches in. Their mere presence brings droves of screaming girls. Day saved, plot device resolved.

Afterward, F3 present the girls with a little ceremony they’ve planned at the swimming pool — sending Jan-di off for one last swim.

They watch Jan-di take a lap in the pool, appropriately moved at the solemnity of the moment. Yi-jung sees Ga-eul crying and offers his handkerchief.

After her lap, the guys present Jan-di with a certificate and enact a short “retirement ceremony.” It’s really sweet, actually. I haven’t felt much kinship between F4 and Jan-di thus far, but this episode finally conveys a sense of affection between them, for which I’m grateful.

Yi-jung reminds her, “You know that an end signals a new beginning, right?” Woo-bin wishes her well in finding Jun-pyo in Macau and giving him what-for.

So Jan-di arrives in Macau, and heads to Jun-pyo’s resort hotel.

Unfortunately, she can’t actually get to him; he’s busy with work and surrounded by his entourage at all times. Jan-di (rather cutely) tries to explain in broken English and Korean that she’s here to see Jun-pyo, making hilarious hand gestures to depict his curly hair.

She fails. Kicked out of the hotel, Jan-di waits outside, trying to figure out her next move.

When a girl rushes out of the hotel to catch a tour bus and drops her tourist pamphlet, Jan-di picks it up and happily peruses it for sightseeing tips. (Stupid girl didn’t even research before her trip, or bring her own map?)

Note: I’m trying to keep my recaps generally spoiler-free, so I’ll just identify this girl as Ha Jae-kyung, which we learn soon enough anyway.

While Jan-di buys food from a vendor, a shifty-looking guy slips her wallet out of her bag. She doesn’t notice, but the thief is immediately stopped by another tourist — Jae-kyung — who twists his arm back and demands he return the wallet.

Breaking free, the pickpocket wildly brandishes a switchblade, then grabs Jan-di and holds the blade to her neck. Several black-suited bodyguards run in to provide backup — they’re obviously protecting Jae-kyung — but she tells them to stand back. A proficient fighter herself, she is confident in her ability to handle this.

The pickpocket proves belligerent, and since he doesn’t speak Korean, Jae-kyung addresses Jan-di in Korean and instructs her to bite the man on the count of three. Jan-di does and runs free, so the man attacks Jae-kyung, who counters with a swift kick.

The bodyguards take over, and the sound of approaching policemen sends everyone scattering.

Together, they walk along and chat; Jae-kyung talks in a very friendly way, using banmal like an old friend. She asks why Jan-di’s in Macau alone. Hearing her response (“To find somebody”), Jae-kyung guesses that it’s a boyfriend, saying, “I’m envious.”

As they split up, Jan-di asks for Jae-kyung’s name, but the girl doesn’t wait to get Jan-di’s.

Next, Jan-di figures out a way to sneak past the guards inside the hotel by joining a group of tourists. Inside, she marvels at the grandeur, wandering the hotel, the casino, and finally arriving at a bar.

It’s there that she spots Jun-pyo, but her cheeriness immediately takes a nosedive. For one thing, he’s laughing and smiling, looking totally happy. Two, he seems awfully cozy with the beautiful woman on his arm.

Third — and worst of all — when Jan-di bumps into another guest, Jun-pyo looks up and spots her. His smile fades and he stares for a moment — and then he turns away coldly, walking away without any hint of recognizing her.

Jan-di hurries to the bathroom to clean up the drink that spilled on her, trying to convince herself that he didn’t see her — and even if he did, she’s the odd one for showing up suddenly in Macau.

When Mr. Jung asks Jun-pyo about Jan-di, Jun-pyo disregards the question and turns the topic to business, making it clear that he’s not going to talk about her.

Now that Jan-di has no reason to be at Jun-pyo’s luxurious hotel, she heads to a seedier part of town, where a small boy offers to take her to a nice, cheap hotel. She’s hesitant to trust him, but he assures her in broken Korean that it’s fine, and she should follow him.

Honestly: How many times can Jan-di be stupid in one episode?

Not surprisingly, the boy grabs her luggage and starts running. Jan-di chases him down the street, fighting for her bag when she catches up to him. The boy calls Jan-di an idiot, and, well, he’s not wrong.

But it becomes clear that this was a part of a bigger setup; a gang of older punks appears, closing in around her menacingly. Frightened, she cowers against a wall, screaming, “Help me! Help me! Gu Jun-pyo!”

And because once was not enough, again we have F3 TO THE RESCUE. Are you kidding me? They literally come out of nowhere — must be that Jan-Distress Call at work again. If I were watching on TV, I would have thrown my remote at the wall. And then regretted it, but yes, still thrown it.

Ass-kicking ensues. F3 easily beats the thugs — but more interestingly, when Woo-bin addresses them, they recognize him, asking, “Prince Song?”

Prince Song must be one badass mofo because the gangsters suddenly grovel at Woo-bin’s feet and beg for forgiveness. He growls at them to leave, and they scatter. (Btw, apparently Woo-bin — whose father’s business is in construction — is insinuating that he has yakuza-like mob ties. LOL.)

Ji-hoo tells Jan-di reassuringly that they came because they’d figure she’d run into trouble. Well, at least they know her by now.

Like I said, I’m getting tired of F4 (or F3) rushing in at the last minute to save the day. I don’t mind giving them a moment to shine and be heroic, but when you create obstacles, then send in the all-powerful F4 guys to “fix” Jan-di’s troubles, well, it’s a cop-out. It’s a non-solution and I feel cheated.

Case in point: Isn’t it great how, now that Jan-di is with her rich boyfriend’s rich friends, she no longer has to worry about money? I guess in this context we should be glad she bothered to pay for her own plane ticket — symbolically, at least, that’s meaningful — but now she gets to relax in luxury.

The guys settle in at the hotel. Their attempt to contact Jun-pyo is rebuffed; he cites work and can’t make time to see them. Woo-bin comments that now it’s starting to feel real — that Jun-pyo isn’t the leader of F4 anymore, but the leader of Shinhwa Group.

The guys all sense something really wrong, and Yi-jung asks if Jan-di got a chance to meet Jun-pyo. She recalls his cold brush-off, then makes up the excuse that Jun-pyo looked so swamped, naturally she hasn’t had time to see him. Ji-hoo, however, picks up on her wording (how would she know if she didn’t see him?) and she hastily covers up her slip. Ji-hoo, as usual, is not convinced.

The four friends decide to stick around to try Jun-pyo again later, but in the meantime, they might as well go out and enjoy the sights. Jan-di attempts to have fun but can’t enjoy herself fully, lost in thoughts of Jun-pyo’s sudden coldness.

All the while, Jun-pyo is busy with work, conducting deals and meetings with cool efficiency.


COMMENTS

I still don’t like the blatantly romantic overtones, but this is the first time I’ve actually felt any chemistry between Jan-di and Ji-hoo, and thought their friendship made any sort of sense. Honestly, I’ve tried to see it previously, but couldn’t get ANY drop of human emotion out of their interactions, which felt like forced obstacles to the Jun-di romance.

The pool scene, though, was the first time I thought of Ji-hoo as a real character and not just a very pretty stand-in for Rui. I’m starting to see that he may actually care for Jan-di instead of wondering, “Where did those feelings come from?” Hey, at least it only took twelve episodes!

On the other hand, I think this episode suffered from a lack of Lee Min-ho. And no, I don’t mean that in a fanservicey way; it’s that, without him on screen for most of the episode, it really became evident just how much of the intensity and conflict derives from Jun-pyo. Without him, this episode seemed to meander at points — and then Jun-pyo came onscreen for a few seconds and stuff got intense and interesting again.

On a superficial level, Gu Hye-sun was pretty cute in today’s episode. For once, I didn’t feel like I was going to gag on her overcutesy mannerisms, perhaps because Jan-di is sad and depressed in this episode. If they could just cut out the ridiculous Jan-Distress moments, I would be so grateful.

Speaking of which — I wonder if BBF would have been better received if it were made, say, five years ago. Because, while the story itself ages pretty well, I think some of the characters and dynamics are, well, familiar at this point. I don’t mean this in context of Hanadan comparisons, but even just considering kdramas alone. Would Jan-di have been less annoying back in the Golden Age of Damsels In Distress (aka, late ’90s or early 2000s, in Hallyu’s nascent stages)? Is the little bit of spunk she DOES show mitigated by the fact that we’re in a post-Sam-soon era, where the sassy girl isn’t unusual any longer but kind of expected?


EPISODE 14 RECAP

At the Venetian casino-hotel, Jan-di sadly recalls how Jun-pyo ignored her. (Anyone else laugh out loud at the gondolier singing “Con te partiro” at the top of his lungs?)

Not to be outdone, another voice starts singing a different song: Ha Jae-kyung belts “Santa Lucia” from her gondola. She’s not a great singer, and I’m not sure if she is being jokey/mocking. If so, it’s kind of awesome. Particularly since she’s switched places with her gondolier — she takes the oar while he sits back like a passenger.

The guys remark that the girl is embarrassing, but Jan-di recognizes her and says she’s really cool. They wonder how she knows her; Jan-di answers that the girl saved her life. Woo-bin protests that saving Jan-di is their thing (in a cute, “Wait, what about us?” way). Guys, guys, don’t worry — Jan-di needs saving so often, there’s plenty to go around.

For those wondering how Jun-pyo can suddenly be made head of Shinhwa Group, he isn’t the only executive. Madam Kang still carries the title of 회장, which is like president or chair. Jun-pyo’s a managing director, which means he carries authority as a senior executive — but he’s not the sole power running Shinhwa. (Not that this plot point is realistic to begin with.)

Jun-pyo and Madam Kang greet their business associates, the heads of JK Group, who have been courted to work with Shinhwa in their global venture. The couple explain that their daughter, Jae-kyung, is off touring Macau alone, then compliment Mama Kang on her handsome son. Mom beams.

F3 take Jan-di to dinner at one of their favorite restaurants, but Ji-hoo, who leads the group, spots Jun-pyo inside. Before the others have a chance to see, he turns and announces that he wants to go somewhere else. He shoots the guys a Meaningful Look, and they catch on quickly, changing their minds casually to keep Jan-di from guessing why.

Ji-hoo pauses to shoot a hard look in Jun-pyo’s direction, and I really think he should just be angry all the time. I didn’t find him interesting as the gentle prince (too bland and supposedly perfect), but he’s much more compelling being angry.

At the dinner table with Jae-kyung’s parents, Jun-pyo receives emailed photos on his phone. His expression grows troubled when he opens the messages surreptitiously to find a series of photos of Jan-di. The sender isn’t shown, but I’m guessing this is Mr. Jung working on Jun-pyo’s instructions.

Mama Kang notices his inattention and breaks in to interrupt his photo-time.

Attuned to Jan-di’s gloom, Ji-hoo asks if she regrets coming and whether she has a plan. She takes the philosophical approach — at least she got to visit a nice place — and says she doesn’t have a plan. “But it would be nice just to be able to see him and ask, ‘How’ve you been? I’ve been okay.’”

She wonders, “Isn’t it strange? It feels like it was ages ago that we were together. If he really does act like he doesn’t know me, I’ll wonder if I just dreamed it on my own.”

Ji-hoo answers firmly, “It’s not a dream. If it were, it wouldn’t have been so painful. After sending you off, I realized that I’d done nothing all this time. When I came to my senses, you were on the plane. So it’s not a dream. Because you’re in front of me now.”

Maybe he feels he’s revealed too much, because he abruptly says goodnight and leaves. Left alone, Jan-di breathes on the glass, then writes the character ㅈ (equivalent to “J”), but stops there.

Mr. Jung tries to convince Jun-pyo to meet F4, but Jun-pyo flatly refuses, reminding him that he has no time for playing around with friends. Therefore, Mr. Jung must go out of his way to coordinate with Yi-jung; citing a business meeting, he delivers Jun-pyo to a basketball court.

Seeing F3 waiting for him, Jun-pyo contains his reaction and says, devoid of any warmth, “Nice to see you.” Ji-hoo: “Do you mean that? Doesn’t seem like it.”

Yi-jung expects Jun-pyo to be happy that Jan-di came too, but Jun-pyo responds, “And why do I have to see her? Girls like her don’t mean anything to me now.” Yi-jung realizes, “So you not calling Jan-di was intentional?”

Jun-pyo says carelessly, “Intentional or not, I didn’t have time to bother worrying about stuff like that.” Being the most perceptive, Ji-hoo has guessed much of this and is not surprised, but Yi-jung and Woo-bin are taken aback at the extent of Jun-pyo’s coldness.

Growing angry, Yi-jung asks, “You call yourself a man?” Jun-pyo reminds him that the guys have all dated around, “So can’t I?” Yi-jung retorts that he may have dated around a lot, “but I never acted like you!” and lunges at Jun-pyo.

Woo-bin holds him back. Yi-jung glares: “What did you tell us back when we tried to stop you? You said a man takes responsibility from the beginning through the end!” Jun-pyo scorns, “And you believed it? No way you guys believed we would make it in the end.”

That’s too much. Yi-jung grabs Jun-pyo’s jacket and bursts out, “Whose fault is it that Jan-di can’t swim anymore?!” There’s a brief flicker of surprise in Jun-pyo’s expression before Yi-jung punches him.

Woo-bin tells Yi-jung to calm down, but Yi-jung snarls that he won’t: “Listen to what that asshole’s saying!” He reminds Jun-pyo: “I warned you. I told you not give encouragement too easily, you coward!”

Jun-pyo gripes, “Did you quit being my friend and all rush to be Jan-di’s black knights? If you came here as friends, then enjoy yourselves before going home. But if you even think about mentioning her name, leave immediately.”

Jun-pyo starts to walk away, but stops at Woo-bin’s question, “Why have you changed?” Without turning back, he responds:

Jun-pyo: “700 thousand. That’s the number of Shinhwa employees and family members I have to take responsibility for — 700 thousand. Try taking on 700 thousand lives, and see if you don’t change.”

Jan-di waits to hear the results of F3’s meeting with Jun-pyo, and can tell from their expressions that it was not good. Yi-jung figures she should know the truth, and Woo-bin explains that he’s changed a lot and probably been under a lot of stress.

Jan-di guesses, “He won’t see me?” They’re surprised she knew, but she assures them not to worry about her: “Whatever he has to say, I came to hear it directly from him. I’ll have to face him.”

They’re relieved at Jan-di’s ready acceptance of the truth, and impressed at her attitude. Feeling much better, Woo-bin suggests an old game — hide and seek in masks. Which… actually looks really fun.

Prince Song is named “It,” so everyone else scatters to hide.

Ji-hoo pulls Jan-di into his corner to escape Woo-bin’s notice. She’s having a good time until she looks up and sees Jun-pyo on the large TV screen, which kills the lively atmosphere. She starts to sob, and Ji-hoo comforts her.

That night, Ji-hoo calls out a reluctant Jun-pyo to ask for a favor — that Jun-pyo meet Jan-di just once.

Jun-pyo: “Why would you ask for that kind of favor?”
Ji-hoo: “Because that’s the only thing I can do for her right now.”

This ties into Ji-hoo’s earlier comment that he realized how he’d done nothing thus far. A flashback shows us the day Jan-di left for Macau, when she’d dropped by to tell Ji-hoo something: “After today, I’m not sure I can say these words. I’m really glad that I got to know you.”

At dawn, Ji-hoo takes Jan-di out for a “walk,” which turns out to be his way of delivering her to Jun-pyo. She approaches the bridge to find him already there, although he keeps his gaze firmly fixed away from her.

Jan-di starts hesitantly, “I was really worried after I heard about your father.” Flatly, he answers, “Thanks. Is that why you came all the way here?… As you see, I’m fine, and as you know, I’m extremely busy. Now that you know, go. Don’t bother worrying about my well-being.” (That last bit literally means: don’t presume you have the right to worry about my health, so don’t bother.)

Hurt, she takes this in. It’s only at this point that he turns to look at her:

Jun-pyo: “Do you have more to say?”
Jan-di: “Do you really mean it?”
Jun-pyo: “What do you want? You can’t be expecting me to say, ‘I’m sorry, forgive me, I’ll go back soon so wait for me,’ could you?”

Jan-di: “Why are you doing this?”
Jun-pyo: “I’ve started to wake up to reality, that’s all.”
Jan-di: “All right, I understand now. Then you really did intend to act like you didn’t see me, and to avoid meeting me. To you, I’m—”
Jun-pyo: “A stain I want to erase.”
Jan-di: “That’s cruel of you, Gu Jun-pyo. Really cruel.”
Jun-pyo: “No. I’ve always been this kind of guy. I just pretended I wasn’t.”

What can Jan-di say to that? She calms herself and tells him, “I’ll go. Take care.”

Jun-pyo returns carelessly, “Worry about yourself,” and leaves.

I LOVE this scene. Jun-pyo is so cold and mean, and although we the audience know there’s more to the story, his act in front of Jan-di is completely convincing — enough that you want to wince along with Jan-di at the force of his words.

Also, I like the line where Jun-pyo says that she couldn’t expect him to ask her forgiveness and beg her to wait — because that’s exactly what he would like to do, and he’s trying really hard to deny that.

It’s still early morning, so nobody’s in the faux courtyard but a gondolier, who takes her for a boat ride and treats her to a free song. Again, it’s “Con te partiro” (the English version of the song is called “Time to say goodbye”). I’m surprised I actually liked the song this time around — in the first scene it seemed silly, but here with Jan-di sitting alone, inside the empty shopping arcade, crying to herself while he sings… it’s sad.

(This is the “Con te partiro” version sung by “popera” singers Sarah Brightman and Andrea Bocelli.)
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Although Jun-pyo seemed unmoved when confronting Jan-di, that is far from the truth. He bursts in on his mother, asking furiously, “Are you satisfied now? Now that everything’s the way you want, are you satisfied?”

Mama Kang replies, “I don’t know, merely hearing about the likes of that girl doesn’t make me happy.”

Jun-pyo fires back, “She’s not just ‘that kind of girl‘! She’s the first girl that I — YOUR SON — ever loved.”

Oh my GOD. How does Lee Min-ho make his eyes fill up with tears, ever so gradually, to correspond with his growing frustration? HOW?

Madam Kang asks calmly, perhaps knowing she has an ace in the pocket, whether he will throw everything away to run to the girl — the company, the employees, his future. What about his father?

Knowing that she’s going to guilt him, Jun-pyo tells her to stop, but she continues, reminding him that his father put everything into the company: “Are you going to throw him away too?… What should I do about Jan-di? Should I make it impossible for her to live anywhere in Korea?”

Jun-pyo: “Be quiet. I told you TO STOP!” He warns, “Don’t mess with Jan-di. If you break your promise, I’ll destroy everything.”

Time to check in back at home. Jan-di’s brother, Kang-san, falls ill with mysterious stomach pains, and his parents rush him to … Doctor Former President?

I is confuzzled. If a former president started practicing medicine, wouldn’t people, um, know about it? Or maybe President Grandpa has a twin brother…

To cheer up Jan-di, Ji-hoo takes her around for the day. They sightsee, watch a Cirque du Soleil-style performance, and shop — the last of which Jun-pyo happens to see as he’s passing by a storefront.

While Ji-hoo looks around, Jan-di is drawn to a pretty shoe on display — which she hastily returns when she looks at the price tag.

Jun-pyo tries to ignore this, but ends up returning to the store to claim the shoe. Only, another shopper grabs it at the same moment. Jae-kyung and Jun-pyo grapple with the shoe, both refusing to let go. (They register no recognition; I’m guessing they’ve never met, since her parents had never seen him before, either.)

Jun-pyo wrenches it from her hand, but when Mr. Jung asks if he knows Jan-di’s shoe size, he stops short. He doesn’t know, so he sizes up Jae-kyung and shoves the shoes on her feet to get an approximation.

Jun-pyo is satisfied that they’ll fit and tells her to take them off. But now that she’s in possession, she refuses and tries to run off (without paying?). In a cute sequence, Jun-pyo chases her around the store and grabs Jae-kyung, who loses her balance.

Having won, Jun-pyo walks out with the shoes.

That night, Madam Kang hears that Jan-di intends to go home the next day. Given their break-up and the fact that Jun-pyo is currently working in the conference room, she is satisfied that both sides have come to their senses and returned to their “rightful” positions.

If only she knew that Jun-pyo isn’t actually working; instead, he’s looking at photos on his computer.

Clearly this slideshow presentation is Ji-hoo’s doing, because it closes with Jan-di’s recorded video message. A tear slips from Jun-pyo’s eye as it plays, after which he stands up purposely, as though to rush off to find her.

Just as he starts to leave, something seizes his attention — in place of the slideshow are old memories of him and his father. (The editing makes it seem for a moment that he’s watching video footage, but I’m pretty sure they’re in his head. If only because it’s crazy to think this particular conversation just happened to be recorded fifteen years ago. Not that BBF is known for its logic.) In the memories, a young Jun-pyo is with his loving father (uh, character inconsistency?), who asks, “What will you do when I’m not around?” Young Jun-pyo proudly makes a man-to-man promise, “I’ll take care of Mom, Noona, and Shinhwa Group.”

It’s his guilty conscience flaring, to keep him from throwing away his position for Jan-di. Torn between both very strong impulses, Jun-pyo bellows in frustration and sinks to the ground.



The next day, Ji-hoo and Jan-di check out of the hotel. I wonder if Ji-hoo is expecting Jun-pyo to show, but instead he’s recognized by someone else, an old friend. (The actor is Haiming, Chinese member of kpop group A’ST1; the character is shortened to “Ming.”)

Ming is thrilled to see Ji-hoo, but disappointed that they’re leaving today. Sensing that Jan-di is the key to convincing them to stay one more day, he gains her approval — then pushes her aside to cozy up to Ji-hoo. It’s hilarious at how much he adores Ji-hoo. I’m not sure if he loves him or is IN LOVE with him, but in any cause, it’s pretty amusing.

Ming takes them to his fancy home and prepares a lavish spread — all to impress Ji-hoo, of course. He and Jan-di engage in a silent battle over the food — Jan-di reaches for the delicious dishes, while Ming moves them away, offering them to Ji-hoo instead.

When Ji-hoo in turn passes the food to Jan-di, she eats with petty triumph. Lol.

Feeling threatened by Jan-di’s claim on Ji-hoo’s affections, Ming tells him grumpily, “She’s not pretty,” and highlights all her shortcomings. He asks if they’re dating, so Ji-hoo asks what Ming thinks.

Ming: “It seems that you like her. When you look at her, you smile, like back then.”
Ji-hoo: “Back then?”
Ming: “Like with Seo-hyun.”

Finally giving in to the impulse, Jun-pyo tries to call Jan-di’s hotel room, only to find that she’s already checked out.

He assumes that means they’ve headed back to Korea, but Mr. Jung informs him that they’re still in the country, visiting a friend. That’s news to Jun-pyo, who wonders who the friend is, but when Mr. Jung offers to find out, Jun-pyo tells him not to bother. (Mr. Jung smiles at this proof that Jun-pyo still cares.)

So Jan-di and Ji-hoo go sightseeing some more, and it is gorgeous.




COMMENTS

I don’t know why I have so much to say about 1 hour of television, and I’m trying to keep things concise (ha!), but sorry in advance for rambling on so. I can’t seem to help it.

Anyway. I feel like PD Jeon just discovered how to shoot reflections in this episode, based on the sheer number of them we got, like —

There were a few standout scenes, which altogether include pretty much everyone in the main cast. So yeah, Episode 14 totally stepped up its game. (Just don’t hold your breath for Episode 15, based on our established pattern.)

One example: The F4 basketball scene. I LOVE that Yi-jung is the one who gets mad. It’s notable that Woo-bin tells Yi-jung to calm down because all series long, Yi-jung has been the one to tell people to calm down whenever they got upset. Perhaps Ji-hoo could have filled that role, but I’m glad Yi-jung was the one to throw the punch, for a few reasons:

First, we’ve seen plenty of Angry Ji-hoo (which I consider a good thing), so we already know how much he cares. Second, we already had a direct Ji-hoo versus Jun-pyo conflict in earlier episodes, so Yi-jung’s reaction gives us a different spin, as it involves someone who doesn’t have romantic feelings for Jan-di. I think that highlights just how badly Jun-pyo is treating Jan-di on a basic friend-to-friend level, that Yi-jung (and Woo-bin) also find his behavior appalling, not just Ji-hoo. And third, I’m thinking Yi-jung has been set off-kilter by Ga-eul’s insight (in Episode 13) into his fear of true love, etc., so his anger at Jun-pyo mistreating Jan-di is given an added layer of meaning. (Sorta like, I’m scared to death of finding true love, and you’ve got it in front of you, and you’re just going to trample all over it like this?)

I’m not jumping ship to root for the Jun-pyo and Jae-kyung pair, but I thought they were really cute together, and this is the first outsider love interest that made me nervous — which, yay! I never felt that the Jun-di pair was really endangered until this episode, and while I don’t think Jae-kyung will upset the order too much, I’m very glad that it at least makes me uneasy.

As for the scene with Madam Kang… I don’t even think I have to say much about it. It was GREAT.

And then, of course, the bridge scene. I am a big fan of this interpretation of Jun-pyo’s character, and part of that is because cruelty can be so much harsher when it’s quiet and contained, rather than overt tantrum-ing. Both Jun-pyo and Madam Kang do that beautifully. He can lash out in violence, too, but he’s at his worst when he’s in control, and wielding his cold cruelty with surgical precision.

That’s why this whole personality about-face — which, yes, I know was in the original — actually seems very in character for the way Jun-pyo has been established. (Like he said, he’s not becoming cold — he was always cold.) Also, we’re given the hint that Jun-pyo made a deal with his mother to do her bidding in exchange for leaving Jan-di alone. Therefore, his attitude change doesn’t feel like a weird personality morph that sprang up as an artificial plot contrivance; it actually feels like a natural development. (I know! I used “natural” to describe Boys Before Flowers!)

I really enjoyed Hana Yori Dango — I loved the manga over-the-topness and the cheesy storylines, which worked for that format. But what I appreciate — and what feels different — about Boys Before Flowers is that this second part feels… kinda real, actually. (Not necessarily plot-wise — but emotionally, oh yeah.) I’ve always felt like the J-version depicted kids who were playing grown-ups, but here it feels like they’re ACTUALLY growing up.

EPISODE 15 RECAP

While sightseeing, Jan-di and Ji-hoo stop for snacks. Unfortunately, Ji-hoo can’t find his wallet, so Jan-di offers to pay, and when she accepts a pastry from the merchant, she leaves her wallet behind on the counter in plain sight. Folks, Idiot Jan-di is back! (Drinking-game followers, take a drink.)

As for Ji-hoo’s wallet, well, Ming took it. Because stranding someone without money in a foreign country is what all good friends do. Ming sneaks a photo of himself with Ji-hoo into Ji-hoo’s wallet, to be discovered later.

Jan-di discovers the loss of her wallet a bit later when she tries to buy a paper fortune at a shrine. Ji-hoo tells her to wait, and dashes off to save the day. But instead of searching for her wallet, which may contain important things other than cash, he… plays streetside minstrel? (Logic fail = take another drink.)

Ji-hoo borrows a guitar from a street performer, then starts to sing “기다리다” (Wait) (posted above). After a few bars of Kim Hyun-joong’s performance (it appears he’s singing live), we fade in with a new, acoustic version of SS501’s “Because I’m Dumb” — and I am SO annoyed that they intruded upon a perfectly good performance. You have an idol singer in your cast, finally give him the chance to show his skills, and then cover it up with a recorded track?

Mr. PD, maybe you’re proud to have gotten a new song to insert into the limited rotation, but as always, WORST TIMING EVER. (Drinkers: Cheers! I’m not sure which rule this violates, except my level of irritation tells me there are at least a half-dozen at work here.)

Money pours in from the sizable crowd and people applaud. Jan-di, who has wandered by, looks on in admiration. Ji-hoo smiles: “This should be enough, don’t you think?”

On the way back to Ming’s house (but what about the wallet?), Jan-di has trouble walking properly again (drink up) and her ankle rolls over as her heel snaps. She tries to stumble along in the broken heel, then decides to take the shoes off. Ji-hoo kneels in front of her and offers to carry her.

As she climbs on his back, Jan-di thanks Ji-hoo, at the same moment that he thanks her, too — this is the first time he’s ever earned money on his own: “There are a lot of things I’m doing for the first time because of you. So thanks.”

They enter the gate, not noticing the big black car lurking right in front. Maybe they’ve gotten so used to their dates being followed that they’re inured to the sight by now?

Inside the car, Mr. Jung asks Jun-pyo whether he should start driving; Jun-pyo answers, “Stay a little longer,” which turns into three hours. It’s only when the lights inside finally go dark that Jun-pyo allows Mr. Jung to head back.

This next morning scene severely tried my patience, and was only mitigated (marginally) by how gleefully Ming snickers at Jan-di. Still groggy, Jan-di stumbles into the bathroom and sits down on the toilet. Ji-hoo walks in — the door was unlocked — and covers his surprise, then walks out. When the reality of the situation sinks in, Jan-di shrieks, then locks herself in the bedroom to sob in humiliation.

I get that it’s embarrassing… but shouldn’t she have more grit than that? An initial freakout is understandable, but wallowing in bed all morning makes her into a silly, dramatic brat and I want to shoot her. (Character inconsistency — take a sip?) Gu Hye-sun’s acting does the scene no favors, either.

Seeing that Jan-di won’t come out, Ji-hoo leaves her alone while he steps out. When she comes down to breakfast, she finds a note that reads, “Memory erased.”

Ji-hoo browses the shopping center for some shoes, and buys the pair that Jan-di had eyed. (If there was more than one pair, why the hell were Jun-pyo and Jae-kyung fighting over the shoes? Ahh, my head hurts. Also: chug!)

Then, they’re at the airport. Jan-di sees that Ji-hoo has booked first-class tickets and, fearing the expense, offers to downgrade to economy. With a deadpan expression, Ji-hoo replies that his legs are too long to suffer economy, putting an end to that argument.

Jun-pyo sits through a business meeting when Mr. Jung brings him a document with a note stuck to it reading, “6 pm departure to Seoul.” Jun-pyo signs the note and hands the papers back to Mr. Jung, pretending this was mere business procedure. This is actually one of the few moments I really liked in this episode — the little detail to show how Jun-pyo is covering his actions to escape Madam Kang’s eagle eye.

With two hours left before Jan-di’s flight, next he’s stuck in a meeting with the heads of JK Group, although he’s so preoccupied with the passing time that he’s completely checked out of the conversation. Mr. Jung interrupts with an “urgent” overseas business call, which gives Jun-pyo an excuse to rise early.

He arrives at the airport just in time to see Ji-hoo kneeling before Jan-di to replace her broken heels with the new shoes he bought her, telling her, “I wanted to buy you something with the first money I earned on my own.”

(If Jan-di could barely walk in those shoes the other night, why is she still wearing them? Does she only travel with one pair of heels? DRINK.)

Jun-pyo sees this and seethes. At Ji-hoo’s question, “Why are you here?,” Jun-pyo retorts, “What about you, what are you doing?”

Ji-hoo: “Do you think you have the right to ask that?”
Jun-pyo: “Yoon Ji-hoo!”
Ji-hoo:”I stepped back as a friend — I gave up because she was my friend’s girlfriend. I gave you a chance up till the end. I’m not going to hold back anymore.”

Jun-pyo punches Ji-hoo.

As always, Jan-di waits for someone to get punched before bursting out, “Stop!” She asks Jun-pyo, “Why did you come? Do you have something to say?”

Jun-pyo can’t respond (anything he says won’t make sense unless he backtracks on his Big Decision), and can only stare in frustration. Jan-di ignores the tears falling from her eyes and says firmly, “All right. I’m going.”

She and Ji-hoo walk off together, and Jun-pyo sinks to the ground.

Mr. Jung rushes in carrying Jun-pyo’s own gift (the shoes), and finds Jun-pyo on the ground. He helps Jun-pyo up, and the two walk off together. It’s fatherly, but also kind of weird. I blame the editing.

They leave the shoes behind on the chair… where Jae-kyung just HAPPENS to come by. WUT THE HELL. (Empty the rest of the bottle.)

Curious, Jae-kyung opens the box, recognizing the very shoes she’d wanted for herself.

On one hand, it’s like Jun-pyo is giving Jae-kyung a present indirectly, but on the other hand, that doesn’t have to be a bad thing — don’t Jun-pyo and Ji-hoo know you’re not supposed to give a girlfriend shoes? It’s bad luck! (The adage goes, if you give a lover shoes, they’ll run away from you. Maybe we should be glad Jan-di never got Jun-pyo’s shoes.)

And now, we’re out of Macau. Thankfully, this is the point where the episode starts to get better.

Back at home, Jan-di’s listlessness causes her to make constant mistakes. She’s so distracted that Ga-eul offers to take over when Master sends Jan-di on a delivery, but he insists that Jan-di go.

The delivery takes her to Cranky Grandpa’s busy clinic, which is crowded with (seemingly middle-to-lower-class) patients. Grandpa gruffly directs her to help out, so she goes around fetching drinks and babysitting. After everyone leaves, she gives Gramps the food, then hesitantly asks how he knows Master and what exactly he does for a living. He IS a real doctor, right?

Just then, a really bad actress stumbles in clutching her pregnant belly and crying in pain.

Jan-di assists Doctor-President-Fisherman-Grandpa as the woman gives birth. The experience introduces a new possibility to her life, and Jan-di returns to school filled with newfound direction and optimism.

Ji-hoo, fresh from a new haircut, drops by to see Jan-di, immediately clocking her good mood. She recounts helping with the pregnant woman, explaining that the experience made her feel something she had never felt before — “It’s the first time I didn’t think of Jun-pyo, or swimming” — and now she’s determined to be a doctor.

A bit sheepishly, Jan-di figures that people will sneer that a dummy like her wants to be a doctor.

Ji-hoo: “Do you know how hard it is to find something that you’d want to do despite being called crazy for it? What does it matter what people think? When have you cared about things like that? If you want to, just do it.”

Jan-di’s mood plummets when sees Jun-pyo on television talking to reporters about Shinhwa Group. Jun-hee happens to look out her car window and she passes, and spots Jan-di on the sidewalk. She greets her with a friendly smile and takes her back to her house for a chat.

Jun-hee has a general idea of what happened between Jan-di and Jun-pyo, and asks about Macau. Jan-di puts on a bright face, saying that she’s glad she went, so she could make a clean break with Jun-pyo.

Jun-hee’s disappointed: “I hoped you could stay with Jun-pyo. It’s too bad.”

Jan-di’s false bravado collapses when she walks past the doors to Jun-pyo’s bedroom, which are ajar. Stepping inside, she looks around and remembers the times she’d spent with Jun-pyo here.

The telescope brings to mind the star-moon necklace, given to her with Jun-pyo’s promise to never let her go. This sets off her tears.

Jun-hee passes by and comforts her, telling her to let it all out. Jan-di sobs that she’d lied earlier: “I’m not okay. I went to see Jun-pyo because I missed him, but I can’t believe he changed so completely.”

Jun-hee thanks Jan-di for being honest — at least knowing that Jan-di still cares means there’s hope. Jun-hee advises, “Jun-pyo will come back, so don’t give up on him. Trust me, and give him one more chance. Can you do that?”

Jan-di confides that she was hurt most not because of Jun-pyo’s cold treatment of her — but rather, because “I never got to tell him I was thankful to him, or that I like him, and I can’t tell him that now.”

Jun-hee’s not the only one who believes Jun-pyo isn’t over Jan-di; Yi-jung seeks out Ga-eul to give her an invitation to Jun-pyo’s birthday party, asking her to bring Jan-di along. He wants to confirm a hunch.

Ga-eul isn’t keen on the idea, because if something goes wrong, Jan-di will be the one hurt. Yi-jung reasons, “If Jun-pyo dumping Jan-di is all an act, that’s good.” On the other hand, even if it’s not an act, Jan-di needs to face it — it’s better she forget him cleanly rather than letting him linger in her thoughts.

Yi-jung presents Ga-eul with a stack of gifts: “If you’re going out to battle, you need weapons.”

In addition to Ga-eul, Mr. Jung also comes by to ask Jan-di to attend the party. He bears an invitation, not from Jun-pyo but from Madam Kang herself.

At the party, Jan-di explains to Ji-hoo that she only came because she didn’t want to run away, but now she wonders if she shouldn’t have come after all. The guys urge her to stay a while

It must be noted that Ji-hoo’s not the only F4 guy with a new hairstyle: Woo-bin and Yi-jung have also changed their looks and now sport upswept styles. But while Ji-hoo’s takes a little getting used to, at least the change works for Woo-bin and Yi-jung.

Party time, in name if not in spirit. Jun-pyo sits stoically while his mother presides, beaming in pride. Madam Kang welcomes everyone to the party, and brings Jun-pyo onstage for the presentation of the cake.

It’s at this point, when he blows out the candles, that he finally looks over and sees Jan-di sitting at the F4 table. They lock eyes for a prolonged beat, and then he turns away.

Ji-hoo clocks her hurt reaction, and asks if she’s okay. She isn’t, and uneasily starts to excuse herself, saying that it was a mistake to come. Before she can leave, the whole table looks up in surprise at Madam Kang’s approach. In a suspiciously cheerful tone, she thanks Jan-di for coming, then requests a piano performance of her: “In the spirit of things, could I ask you for a favor in congratulating Jun-pyo on his birthday?” I do not follow this logic — drink for me — and neither do Woo-bin nor Yi-jung, who wonder worriedly whether Jan-di can play the piano.

Ji-hoo steps in to take her home, but Jan-di stands and faces Madam Kang: “Yes, I will. You invited me, so I should at least sing for my supper.” (She literally says, “earn my dinner.”)

At Madam Kang’s introduction of Jan-di, Jun-pyo looks at her in surprise. Jan-di starts to play. She’s not good, but she’s not bad either.

In Episode 13, I posted two versions of “사랑밖에 난 몰라” (“I Only Know Love”), which Jan-di played on the piano with Ji-hoo. Here’s a third version by Horan (of Clazziquai) and Dave Koz. [ Download ]

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

(In case you didn’t know, Gu Hye-sun is actually a strong singer — she almost debuted as a singer instead of actress. In this scene, she sings in a wavering voice because, for one, Jan-di isn’t supposed to be a great singer, and two, emotion threatens to choke her up at several key points in the lyrics.)

Here’s what she sings (the ellipses mark her long breaks):

The moment you come to my side,
I love that look in your eye.
Yesterday I cried, but because of you today,
I’ll be happy tomorrow.

It’s not your face…… or style
but your soft love that I needed
to forget the past.
Without you, I can’t do anything anymore……
I only know love.

After she finishes, Jan-di gets an enthusiastic response — and a standing ovation from Woo-bin — and again locks eyes with Jun-pyo. Oh yeah, and Ji-hoo throws long (blank) stares in Jan-di’s direction. (Drinky!)

On the other hand, Madam Kang is perhaps disappointed Jan-di didn’t outright suck, and says in her bitchy-pleasant manner that she’d asked too much of the student. She apologizes on behalf of Jan-di, who ruined the mood and should have known her limits.

And now, she makes the Big Announcement of the evening — the introduction of Jun-pyo’s fiancée. Everyone is completely shocked (including the couple themselves), while Jae-kyung is literally carried into the room, kicking and shouting.

Not only is the announcement a shock, so is Jae-kyung and Jun-pyo’s realization that they’ve met before.

Jan-di’s group convenes outside in the hall, which is where Madam Kang finds them to gloat. She addresses Jan-di triumphantly: “Do you understand now? The wife to the next head of Shinhwa Group has to be at least at that level.”

Jun-pyo joins them, demanding first to know what his mother is doing, then asking Jan-di why she bothered to come. Hurt and angry, Jan-di retorts that she has nothing to say to him.

And then, Jae-kyung joins the group — what, is nobody left inside? — to ask Jun-pyo’s mother if she’s truly serious about the engagement. Madam Kang replies that the parents have already discussed the matter; both sides are pleased with the match.

Jun-pyo cuts in to address Jan-di: “I have something to say to you, so don’t argue and follow.” He grabs her by the wrist and drags her away, grumbling all the while about how she should have suspected his witchy mother was up to something when she invited him… not realizing that he grabbed the wrong wrist.

Meanwhile, Jan-di (and the others) watch in puzzlement as Jun-pyo grabs Jae-kyung’s wrist by accident and pulls her away. Madam Kang may be our villain here, but I just love the wonderfully bitchy shrug she tosses at Jan-di, as if to say, See? You’re toast.

Witch-Mom tells her, “You must have realized by now that you should give up your empty hopes and fantasies.”

For what it’s worth, it actually is kinda funny when Jun-pyo yanks Jae-kyung along, muttering the whole time that he’s dragging the wrong girl behind him, addressing her as though she’s Jan-di.

Finally, Jae-kyung shouts at him, and he realizes his mistake. And then promptly blames it on her for letting herself be dragged along.

Jun-pyo tells Jae-kyung to stop following him and starts to walk off. Incredulous, Jae-kyung chases after him and jumps on his back, insisting he apologize to her. (He calls her a crazy monkey, lol.)

She bites his ear — unorthodox but effective, just like her — then falls to the ground. This is probably supposed to Mean Something because Jae-kyung teases him for blushing, suggesting that he’s attracted to her.

She asks for money to take a taxi home. He doesn’t have any, so she demands to use his cell phone, and gropes around his pockets to find it.

As Jun-pyo tries to shove her aside, her team of bodyguards swoops in to her “rescue.” Not realizing that they’re her people (or not caring), Jun-pyo reacts as he always does by fighting. They restrain him quickly, much to Jae-kyung’s amusement.

Ji-hoo takes Jan-di home in solemn quiet. Ji-hoo asks if she was very shocked, and she answers (not at all convincingly) that she doesn’t care if Jun-pyo gets engaged.

Ji-hoo defends Jun-pyo by guessing that he probably didn’t know about the engagement. Despite their rift, it seems Ji-hoo has faith that Jun-pyo would have told them if it were true. But Jan-di doesn’t believe it — she saw Jae-kyung in Macau, which means they probably did know each other.

Referring to the airport scene when Ji-hoo had hinted that he would have pursued Jan-di, Ji-hoo now says, “About what I said to Jun-pyo in Macau…” Jan-di reassures him, “I know. You only said that because you were angry at him.”

That’s not what he means at all, and he takes a long pause to think, then responds, “You’re right.” He leaves her with wise words: “Sometimes what you see isn’t real. You need faith to see some things.”

After she gets out of the car, he sighs to himself, “Yoon Ji-hoo, what the heck are you doing?”

At home, Ji-hoo looks at the bag Jan-di left behind in his car (bottoms up!), and dials Jun-pyo on his phone. Just at that moment, his phone starts to ring, and he peers outside to see Jun-pyo standing there, phone to his ear.


COMMENTS

The first part of this episode had me seriously scratching my head. So many irrelevant moments, weird plot jumps (they HAVE to lose both wallets to get Ji-hoo to perform?), that even the small shining moments — Jun-pyo’s contained pain, for instance — were suffocated by the rest. For instance, Lee Min-ho’s quiet portrayal while watching from his car was a GREAT beat and conveyed with nice nuance… only, sadly, I couldn’t care that much because of all the other chaff that surrounded it. His breakdown at the airport was also acted well — but then I cringed through his exchange with Mr. Jung, which should have been a lovely moment but instead made me uncomfortable. Mr. Jeon PD, you should take the words of advice of your own characters and let the good stuff in your drama thrive — by CUTTING OUT THE WEEDS.

Normally, I would argue that ratings and quality are linked only tenuously together; you can’t say they don’t reflect on each other at all, but it’s too simple to say that they’re directly correlative.

But in this case, I’m tempted to say that the high ratings have actually adversely affected the quality of the drama, if only because it can be seen as positive reinforcement of bad behavior. As in, the drama director can point to high ratings and defend his work saying he’s doing something right, when I think perhaps the drama is a success mostly in spite of his instincts which threaten to derail it on every level.

I mean, honestly. He’s going to drive us all to drink.

EPISODE 16 RECAP

Jun-pyo arrives at Ji-hoo’s, making an excuse rather than admit he just wanted/needed the company. He says he only dropped by because Ji-hoo’s house is closest, plus he had fought with Yi-jung in Macau and Woo-bin always has girls hanging around. Ji-hoo points out that Jun-pyo punched him too, so Jun-pyo tells Ji-hoo to hit him and they’ll call it even.

That’s a tacit apology, and Ji-hoo smiles. Jun-pyo asks roundabout-ly how “everyone” is doing. Ji-hoo replies, “If you’re wondering about Jan-di, she’s fine.”

Jun-pyo tries to pretend he didn’t want to know that, changing the topic to demand a birthday present. Ji-hoo hands over the bag Jan-di left behind, inside which Jun-pyo finds a doll with curly hair. It comes with a note from Jan-di: “Gu Jun-pyo, happy birthday. I’ll pray that your birthday isn’t lonely, and full of only happy things.”

(Ji-hoo’s act of friendly loyalty means he has again stepped back to help Jun-pyo and Jan-di. This is what makes him a good friend, but won’t get him the girl in the end, which is something he knows. Thus he broods as he eats his pancakes of sadness.)

At school, Jae-kyung recognizes Jan-di and greets her enthusiastically. She’s going to be enrolling at Shinhwa University and suggests that they be good friends (as “unni-dongsaeng,” or a big-sis-little-sis relationship).

Since she’s Jun-pyo’s fiancée, Jan-di’s less enthused but tries to be polite. When Jae-kyung says she’s here to see somebody, Jan-di guesses that’s Jun-pyo. Speaking of the devil, Jae-kyung spots him walking by with F3 and bounds over to him. Unfazed by his brusque demeanor, she grabs him in a headlock and calls him fiancé.

Jun-pyo breaks free, calling her a crazy monkey (again). Jae-kyung has accepted this engagement thing and intends to see it through, and declares: “I’m going to tame you.”

Jan-di watches quietly from the sidelines. Seeing her expression, Woo-bin approaches to explain that Jun-pyo’s starting at the university with the others. (I really love him for this; he’s a nice guy, and as we’ve seen, he’s always the biggest advocate for friendly harmony.)

Ga-eul hears about the encounter as they work, playing the supportive friend who’s indignant at “that other girl.” But Jan-di has to be honest, saying Jae-kyung is actually a cool person — which is when she shows up.

Jae-kyung cheerfully introduces herself to Ga-eul, looking around and saying their job looks like fun; she’s always wanted to try something like this. She then “borrows” the girls, leaving her bodyguard behind with Master.

Girl-bonding time. This is another thing Jae-kyung has always wanted to try — a day chatting and hanging out with the girls. Asked whether she doesn’t have friends for that, Jae-kyung says brightly, “I have no friends.” She’s moved around so much that she never had the opportunity.

Jae-kyung knows Jan-di is acquainted with Jun-pyo, but not the extent of their relationship, so she asks Jan-di for advice on the type of girls Jun-pyo likes. It’s an awkward question, and Jan-di answers a bit ruefully, “He’s so busy thinking about his own style that I’d bet he wouldn’t even remember what the girl wears.”

Jae-kyung decides, “I like him more and more,” and prods for more details.

Jan-di thinks, then answers that Jun-pyo is super arrogant and acts like he knows everything. Growing wistful, Jan-di starts to get lost in the memory: “If he likes something, he ignores everything else and goes for it all the way, like a bulldozer. He’s really scary when he’s angry, but when he treats you well, he’s tender.”

Jan-di snaps out of it, coming back to the present, and finishes by saying he’s childish and hot-tempered. Pleased with the detailed description, Jae-kyung says, “You know him well. Good, let me ask an official favor. I really want to get along well with him. Be my dating coach.”

Jan-di’s face shows just how much she doesn’t want to agree. Ga-eul, who has been standing by uncomfortably, shoots an upset look Jae-kyung’s way (though the latter doesn’t notice).

At the end of the night, Jae-kyung hands two shopping bags to Ga-eul and Jan-di, announcing that they’re her best friends now — she jokes that those are “bribes.” Ga-eul thinks Jae-kyung’s a little strange, but has to admit somewhat reluctantly, “She’s someone you can’t hate.”

Yi-jung and Woo-bin tease Jun-pyo about Jae-kyung and wonder when he got so chummy with his fiancée, after hearing about her biting his ear (which they point out is Jun-pyo’s “sensitive point”).

However, their initial joshing turns into worry — what if the engagement turns serious? Then Jun-pyo and Jan-di will be over for good. Ji-hoo tells them they can do something about it — are they Casanovas or what?

Jan-di’s family hear about Jun-pyo’s engagement and ask her dejectedly if it’s true. Jan-di confirms it, so they to find out as much as they can about this mystery fiancée who stole Jan-di’s spot as Jun-pyo’s future wife.

Jae-kyung makes an unannounced visit, introducing herself as Jan-di’s new friend. Not knowing that this is Jun-pyo’s fiancée, Jan-di’s parents welcome her to drop by at any time.

When Jae-kyung requests to spend the night, borrowing a tracksuit much like the one Jun-pyo once wore, the family pauses to wonder, “This situation feels familiar.”

Ever eager to try out new things, Jae-kyung enthuses over their impromptu pajama party. She says, “It feels like predestination, meeting you and Gu Jun-pyo in Macau.” She confesses, “I must have liked him from the first time I met him.” She would’ve normally been completely against the engagement, but “the moment I saw his face, my chest tingled. Do you know that feeling? Is there someone you like? A first love?”

At Jan-di’s expression, Jae-kyung guesses there is someone. Jan-di says there’s one person who had an effect on her: “When I looked at him, my mind would go blank.” (By this, she means that everything else goes dull and fades.)

Jae-kyung describes Jun-pyo as wine — the more you drink, it circulates through the blood and brings a tingling, electric feeling all over your body. It occurs to her that Jun-pyo may like somebody, but she figures, “It doesn’t matter. I’ll just have to make him like me now.”

Jun-pyo waits around campus for Jan-di, who’s she’s not happy to see him. She snaps at him when he starts to follow her; he asks why she doesn’t swim anymore. She merely replies, “I quit.”

Jun-pyo feels the need to clarify that the engagement wasn’t his idea; he has nothing to do with it. Jan-di retorts that it has nothing to do with her either, adding sarcastically, “You’ve gotten a lot kinder, to bother explaining that to the stain you want to erase.”

In the distance, Jae-kyung spots them and starts heading over. Jan-di takes advantage of Jun-pyo’s momentary distraction to hurry away, catching Ji-hoo as he’s about to leave. She asks for a ride.

Ji-hoo sees Jun-pyo following behind, assesses the situation, and hands her a helmet just as the other two arrive.

When Ji-hoo is introduced, Jae-kyung says knowingly to Jan-di, “This is him, right? The one you like?” Not registering the tension, Jae-kyung thinks this is great, and suggests that they all go out together. The other three respond immediately, “No.”

Jan-di excuses herself, tells Jae-kyung to have fun with Jun-pyo, and asks Ji-hoo to leave quickly.

Ji-hoo drops Jan-di off at the clinic, where Jan-di has taken on an assistant position. Nothing medical — mostly running errands and cleaning. Ji-hoo offers to help and accompanies her inside — but the instant he sees the doctor, his eyes bulge open in shock. Doctor-Grandpa recognizes Ji-hoo, shouting after him as Ji-hoo rushes out.

Yes, the doctor is Ji-hoo’s grandfather. Also the ex-president. At the restaurant, Master says that it wasn’t that the grandfather wouldn’t see Ji-hoo all these years, but that he couldn’t, and asks Jan-di to help.

Before he can elaborate, visitors stagger inside the restaurant: an exhausted Yi-jung and Woo-bin.

Taking Ji-hoo’s hint to do something about The Pesky Fiancée, they’d both sought to woo her away from Jun-pyo. Yi-jung tried impressing her with his art collection, while Woo-bin “rescued” her from gangsters. But their plan backfires — Jae-kyung is utterly exhausting, which they realize after following her around, eating, drinking, karaoke-ing together.

The plan failed, so they are down to their last resort: to forget about Jae-kyung and focus on getting the Idiot Duo together. (Not my words! Woo-bin calls them that.) For this plan, they require Ga-eul’s help.

First, Ga-eul calls Jan-di to tell her she has a date with Yi-jung. Dreamily mooning over Yi-jung has the intended effect — Jan-di freaks out about Ga-eul’s welfare, because a player like Yi-jung would completely use and abandon her friend.

She resolves to prevent this and calls Ji-hoo, but gets no response. I’m not sure why she doesn’t try Woo-bin next, but she finds him anyway when she bursts into Jun-pyo’s room to plead for his help.

Since this is a part of The Plan, Woo-bin tells her Jun-pyo’s in the next room, but doesn’t bother explaining that Jun-pyo’s getting out of a shower. And it’s a good thing for fans, too, since this leads us to our fanservicey moment of the day: bare-chested Lee Min-ho.

There’s a hilarious moment when Jan-di, all frazzled with worry (and from half-nekkid Jun-pyo), blurts out her concerns. Her words are jumbled up so it comes out like, “Need your help,” “I can’t do it alone,” and “You might have to get physical.”

By the last bit, she means he’d have to fight or use force with Yi-jung, but as she doesn’t explain that, Jun-pyo perks up in interest. Jan-di frets some more: “What if we have to go to a hotel?”

After that misunderstanding is clarified, Woo-bin intentionally plays on Jan-di’s fears about Yi-jung’s ladykiller tendencies, demonstrating Yi-jung’s Five Steps to Seduction on Jan-di in front of a jealous Jun-pyo. (I love jealous Jun-pyo.)

Jun-pyo scoffs because Ga-eul isn’t anything like Yi-jung’s type. However, Woo-bin fans the flames, countering, “No, he said he found her cute.” He wonders how long it’ll take to win over Ga-eul — it might only take one day.

That means Jan-di must stop them from having a successful date at all costs. She busily works out a plan and shares it with Jun-pyo. Woo-bin watches in satisfaction.

Together, Jan-di and Jun-pyo set out to save Ga-eul. Or rather, Jan-di drags along an indifferent Jun-pyo while she spies.

Aware of their audience, Yi-jung and Ga-eul commence their act. (It’s a good thing that Yi-jung and Ga-eul are faking and know that Jan-di’s there, because she is the worst undercover spy ever.) All day, Yi-jung plays the attentive, flirtatious boyfriend. Jan-di grows increasingly worried at the seemingly successful date.

After his unexpected encounter with his grandfather, Ji-hoo visits his parents’ graves, where he says with resignation, “Grandfather must still hate me. Everyone I’ve cared for has left my side. I decided to try living thinking I didn’t need anyone, but I keep wanting more.”

Unbeknownst to Ji-hoo, President Yoon had actually said in a separate scene that the accident had been his fault (not Ji-hoo’s). He says sorrowfully, “I killed them. It’s my fault he was made into an orphan.”

It’s clear that they’ve been kept apart by mutual misunderstanding and grief — and I hope there’s a better reason than both sides simply assuming the worst of themselves.

My first reaction was confusion at seeing Yi-jung leading Ga-eul onto the ice rink in regular shoes, but perhaps this is a result of Kim Bum’s recent accident and foot injury, so this awkwardness gets a pass.

At one point, Jan-di turns away to avoid being seen and stumbles against Jun-pyo. After the initial surprise, Jun-pyo holds her closer to him, until she moves away.

Watching Yi-jung shrug out of his jacket to give to Ga-eul, Jan-di mutters that he’s a total player. Jun-pyo counters, “Then would you prefer Ga-eul freeze to death?”

Noting that Jan-di’s freezing too, Jun-pyo tells her she should worry about herself too, and steps behind her to spread his jacket around her. Which reminds them of the last time he’d done a similar thing, back at the ski lodge.

From the ice, Yi-jung and Ga-eul notice that their plan is working, so Yi-jung brings on the big finish: Fireworks.

Jun-pyo and Jan-di watch the fireworks go off, with his arms still wrapped around her. Jun-pyo gives Yi-jung credit for the impressive display, and asks, “Was it this cool when I did it too?”

Maybe things are getting too personal, because Jan-di pushes Jun-pyo off and steps aside, asking what will come next in Yi-jung’s plan. To her dismay, Jun-pyo indicates a nearby hotel.

Thus they take a room next door to Yi-jung and Ga-eul. Jan-di imagines the worst, not knowing that they’re actually just standing around in the room and waiting to wrap up their plan. She’s a nervous wreck. In contrast, Jun-pyo sits back, impressed with Yi-jung’s romantic prowess.

Jan-di can’t hear anything through the thick walls, so she peers out into the hallway, and gasps. She motions Jun-pyo over to see a room-service cart (loaded with candles, dessert, the works) making its way to Yi-jung’s room.

Determined to put a crimp in their plans, Jan-di instructs Jun-pyo to steal the cart. She pushes him out into the hallway, where he intercepts the employee and pays for the cart. All the while, Yi-jung peers out of the peephole and watches as Jan-di directs the cart into her room instead.

That’s as much as the So-eul couple can do, so they call it a successful night and head out.

Next door, Jan-di and Jun-pyo sit in awkward silence for a few beats, until they both speak at the same time: She says, “Happy birthday” just as he says, “Thanks.”

Jun-pyo thanks Jan-di for the birthday present — it’s the shabbiest present he’s ever received, but he’ll let that slide because it’s the thought that counts. The statement is typical Jun-pyo (a light insult to cover the softer undertone), and Jan-di smiles a bit.

She wishes him happy birthday, and then, “Congratulations on the engagement.” Jun-pyo retorts, “I told you not to bother thinking about that.”

In a faltering tone, Jan-di says that Jae-kyung is a good person. She starts to tear up as she adds, “She really likes you a lot.”

Jun-pyo sighs, “Meddling as usual. Right, you’re not Geum Jan-di unless you’re throwing my insides into turmoil.” He asks, does that mean she’d be fine if he married right away, then?

Jan-di can’t answer that; uncomfortable, she needs some space and changes the subject back to Ga-eul, and steps into the hall to check on the other room.

It’s here that she is found by Madam Kang, who was downstairs in the lobby when an employee informed her that Jun-pyo had taken out a room. Mama Witch confronts Jan-di angrily and heaps abuse on her and her family.

At this point, Jun-pyo comes out looking for Jan-di, and stops short at the sight of his mother.

Madam Kang loses her temper — implying that Jan-di is a desperate slut, she accuses Jan-di of throwing herself at Jun-pyo even though he’s engaged, then raises an arm to strike. She says scathingly, “You ill-bred, audacious girl…!”

Jun-pyo blocks his mother’s arm and yells at her to stop. He repeats in a quieter voice, “Please, stop.”

So she slaps him instead.

Madam Kang orders her men to take Jun-pyo away, and stalks off. In stunned silence, Jun-pyo is escorted down the hall, while Jan-di sinks to the ground, in shock herself.

Down in the lobby, Jun-pyo shoves the men away and reaches for his phone. He hesitates as he starts to write a message to Ji-hoo — to rescue Jan-di, as usual — as though unwilling to step back and let his friend in his place. But he hits send… and then hurls his phone into the ground angrily. It breaks into pieces.

I LOVE THIS POINT. In the past, Jun-pyo had called Ji-hoo to help, to take his place as a friend, and Ji-hoo faithfully came through — not for himself, but for them. Now that Jun-pyo knows Ji-hoo has feelings for Jan-di, and that he himself can’t have her, it kills him to knowingly push the two together. But the alternative is worse — to leave Jan-di without anyone to lean on — so he does it, no matter how much he hates it. LOVE.

But Jan-di leaves before Ji-hoo arrives at the hotel, and when he calls to check up on her, she tells him that she’s fine and at home.

She’s lying, because she’s actually at the empty clinic, which she starts to clean. Ji-hoo, however, knows to find her here and says, “So this has become home to you.”

I really like this scene, which is nearly wordless and has all the more impact for it. Ji-hoo watches Jan-di mopping the floor, with a troubled expression his face (is that an actual flicker of emotion I see?), and steps in front of her to force her to stop. She mops around him, so he steps in front again to make her stop. She turns away, he follows.

It’s not Ji-hoo’s nature to push, so it’s like he’s waiting for her to come to her own breaking point. He grabs the mop and puts it away, and with nothing else to distract her, Jan-di lets her tears fall. He holds her as she cries.

Every time Jun-pyo gets near to his own breaking point (or breaking-free point), he’s rather forcibly reined in by Mommie Dearest, so the next time he crosses paths with Jan-di on campus, he’s back to being cold and distant. F4 walks past Jan-di, and he doesn’t spare her a glance.

Jan-di’s hurt, but doesn’t have time to dwell — her mother calls with dire news. Jan-di can’t understand what the problem is, and asks her mother to explain. Hearing the worry in her voice, Ji-hoo turns back and sees Jan-di rushing away.

When she gets home, the entire place is covered in red stickers, which denote items to be repossessed. Her mother is lying down from the shock as Jan-di’s father tends to her, trying to keep an optimistic face. Their financial woes were bad enough already — they can barely manage to pay off the interest on their loans — but now they have another problem, because a friend used Dad’s name to borrow money (with consent, made before their current troubles).

With both parents sunk in worry, they’ve failed to show up at their janitorial jobs. Jan-di tries to smooth it over with their boss, offering to take their place temporarily until her parents are able to return to work. Thus begins yet another job to add to her list.


COMMENTS

Granted, a few moments in this episode required a (sizable) suspension of disbelief. But the reason I was able to enjoy this episode — a lot, actually — is because once I made the leap in accepting the premise, the rest of the episode generally flowed, logically and emotionally.

For instance: I didn’t really buy how frantic Jan-di was to save Ga-eul from Yi-jung. Sure, he’s a notorious playboy, but she also knows him enough to know he’s not evil; he’s not the awful Su-pyo from an earlier episode. I could see her worry, but it wasn’t enough to explain her pushing aside all her issues with Jun-pyo to beg for his help. But once I decided to just accept that as the basis for this storyline, the rest of the events that followed made sense. I’d rather not have to make any logical leaps in the first place, but at least in this case it worked out. (This was not the case in Episode 15, which is why it made me so cranky.)

I like Jae-kyung, although it took me until this episode to decide — I’d been on the fence (despite liking the actress from Day 1). It probably helps that I don’t find her voice annoying, as many of you do. Normally, a girl who wants to fit herself to be a guy’s ideal type indicates a weakness of character, but with Jae-kyung, it doesn’t seem that way. Probably because it’s not so much that she wants to change herself to suit Jun-pyo, but that she strikes me as a blank canvas, which I find really interesting. I don’t mean she’s blank as a person because she obviously has a very strong personality, but it’s more that she’s a newly born animal who’s eager to try anything and everything. She’s willing to try something new — to BE something new — to discover whether it suits her. So she likes Jun-pyo and is trying to see if she can make it work with him; can’t fault her for that.

All the Jun-pyo and Jan-di scenes were a lot of fun. Like I mentioned, I find it a little unbelievable that they work together so soon after all the Angst and Drama, but once you accept that they do, the scenes are really cute to watch. And although it seems like Jun-pyo is still caught in his mother’s snare, I think we start to see that it’s a losing battle for him to be without Jan-di. He does okay when she’s out of sight (thus out of mind), but when he’s within reach of her, it’s all just a matter of time before his real feelings are pushed to the surface. Thank god for meddling friends who keep them within reach of each other, right?

As for the last scene between Ji-hoo and Jan-di, now THAT is something I want to see more of — a complex dynamic expressed in a simple way. Ji-hoo stepping in front of Jan-di to stop her from skirting around her problem. Taking away her (literal) crutch and leaving her standing alone in an empty room, with no facades left to hide behind. Not pushing her too quickly, but waiting for her to confront the truth, forcing for her to face her emotions.

I mean, how freaking beautiful is that? And we did it in one short scene, two actors in an empty room with one prop.

There is no need to get all convoluted and nonsensical with plot twists — i.e., all that wallet ridiculousness from 15, or random characters who do nothing — when such a little exchange can have so much more impact.

EPISODE 17 RECAP

Revisiting happier times, Ji-hoo watches home videos showing him at age five, playing around with his then-doting grandfather. Ex-President Yoon similarly loses himself in memories of the day Ji-hoo’s parents died.

(Just kiss and make up, you two!)

Jun-pyo faces off with his mother, who wants him to officially accept his engagement with Jae-kyung. She tells him that Shinhwa’s deal with JK Group is a huge deal — is he so thoughtless that he could give up everything his father and grandfather worked so hard for, over a silly thing like love?

Jun-hee storms in and instructs Jun-pyo to leave. Steely, she asks her mother, “Wasn’t it enough to do it to me? You need a hotel, so you sell your daughter. You need investments, and sell your son. What are you going to do if you need something else? You have no children left.”

Madam Kang insists it’s all for her children’s sake, at which Jun-hee scoffs. She’s never felt that anything her mother did was for their benefit. Mom asks her where her current happiness comes from if not her, and Jun-hee laughs bitterly: “Happiness? Do you know what happiness is?”

Jun-hee warns Mom to leave Jun-pyo alone — she won’t sit back this time.

Jan-di is busy at work, filling in for her parents on the janitorial night shift, when Ji-hoo steps into the lobby and sees her. After a moment, Ji-hoo pushes up his sleeves and grabs some supplies to join in. Jan-di is a little abashed but grateful for the help, and together, they clean the windows and the floors.

Afterward, Ji-hoo waits for Jan-di outside the restrooms, but grows concerned when she doesn’t emerge. He tries calling, but though he can hear the ringtone sounding, nobody picks up. Cautiously, he looks inside, and finds Jan-di collapsed on the ground.

Ji-hoo rushes Jan-di home and calls a doctor, who says Jan-di will be fine with some rest; she’s just overworked.

Seeing some blood on Jan-di’s finger, Ji-hoo is reminded of the time Jan-di had wrapped his bleeding finger for him. Ji-hoo takes her hand and presses a kiss to it…

…at just the moment that Jun-pyo drops by. Jun-pyo watches for a moment, then turns and silently leaves. In his car, her thinks back to the confrontation at the Macau airport, when Ji-hoo declared that he won’t step aside this time. There’s an interesting moment, I think, when he laughs and cries at the same time, then erupts into frustration.

Thus when they cross paths at school, he ignores her. (She’s nursing a bloody nose, indicative of overworking — although who else immediately thought of That Other Drama Cliché, the cancer storyline? I doubt that’s the intent, but still, there was a little too much emphasis on Jan-di’s blood to escape that thought.) Jun-pyo walks right by her, and Jan-di, feeling hurt, doesn’t see him turn back to watch her. He kicks the wall in anger.

It must be this frustration, coupled with his mother’s constant browbeating, that forces him into his next decision, which we hear from Jae-kyung that night.

Jae-kyung calls Jan-di out and meets her at the playground, grabbing Jan-di in a hug and fighting tears as she starts to speak. At first, Jan-di worries that something has happened to Jun-pyo, but it turns out that Jae-kyung’s tears are of happiness — Jun-pyo finally came around and suggested they start dating officially.

Jae-kyung was so thrilled she just had to share, and gushes, “Isn’t it so romantic to fall in love with your fiancée?” (I think that’s a little backward, but we get the point.) She also thanks Jan-di: “I’m so happy I have a friend to tell.” Jan-di looks like she would dearly love to not be that friend, but musters up a weak “Congratulations.”

The new couple makes their first official appearance at some kind of Shinhwa event (a cell phone launch party?). F4 is subdued around Jae-kyung, and Jun-pyo himself isn’t too enthusiastic to be here with her; he’s mostly quiet as his friends halfheartedly greet Jae-kyung and trade looks.

Jun-pyo and Jae-kyung greet the proud parents, and Madam Kang expresses her approval of Jae-kyung. Even when her parents suggest that she calm down and act befitting her position, Madam Kang encourages her to continue being her bright, lively self — I’m guessing that she really doesn’t care about the girl’s personality given her lofty connections.

Jun-pyo and Jae-kyung leave the party early to go on their first official date, during which Jun-pyo looks mostly unhappy and disconnected while Jae-kyung tries to engage his attention. I think on some level, Jae-kyung must be aware of Jun-pyo’s feelings, because she’s not completely dumb — she does notice his distraction when they’re at the movies (they’re watching Speed Scandal, by the way).

But she ignores this and keeps the date moving along, whether it’s by shoving popcorn into Jun-pyo’s mouth, dragging him around a teddy bear museum, or goading him into riding the cable car with her. (When he tells her to go alone, she teases him about being afraid of heights, prompting him to come along out of annoyance.)

In the cable car, Jun-pyo spies the message he’d scrawled on the wall the night he got stuck there with Jan-di, and I’m exceedingly disappointed that it wasn’t Jae-kyung who saw the message rather than him. Instead, Jae-kyung enjoys a moment of closeness when the cable car jerks — she misreads the way he automatically puts his arm around her to steady her as a sign of affection.

(At least, I think she’s misreading it, because I don’t think Jun-pyo is actually interested in her. It’s not that he couldn’t be attracted to her — maybe he would have been, if not for Jan-di — but that his feelings for Jan-di tend to be so overwhelming that I just don’t think he’s got room to think about anyone else.)

Ji-hoo comes upon Jan-di studying in their stairwell, and she jokes that at this rate, it would be a miracle for her to make it to medical school. But, she reasons, even if she doesn’t, she could always continue helping out at his grandfather’s clinic.

Belatedly remembering that the estranged grandfather is a touchy subject, Jan-di cuts herself off, then suggests that Ji-hoo make up with him. Ji-hoo answers curtly that they’d never fought — he was abandoned. Jan-di hesitantly mentions that his grandfather feels awful and misses him, but that just elicits a scornful laugh.

Their attention is diverted by two people walking down the hallway just inside — it’s Jae-kyung, nagging and hanging on to Jun-pyo’s arm. Jun-pyo’s growing increasingly irritated at Jae-kyng’s constant clinging, which she defends by saying is because she feels uncertain about their relationship. However, she offers to stop tagging along all the time if he’ll make her feel more secure — then she’ll stay put and wait for him patiently.

Jun-pyo asks what it’ll take for her to do that, and she answers, “Give me a kiss.” Her request makes Jun-pyo think back to all the (romantic, sweet) kisses he’d shared with Jan-di… and then he makes up his mind. He grabs Jae-kyung quickly and kisses her — but in contrast to his kisses with Jan-di, his eyes remain open, cold, unfeeling.

Ji-hoo grabs Jan-di to keep her from seeing (it’s a thoughtful, but mostly useless, gesture) and holds her against him until Jun-pyo breaks the kiss.

It has meant nothing to Jun-pyo and he walks off, thinking he’s earned his freedom. But Jae-kyung, happy now, persists in following him, causing him to grumble, “What now?”

Jae-kyung has a list of things she’s always wanted to do with a boyfriend (99 things, in fact) and suggests they tackle one thing per day. By the time they reach their 100-day mark, they’ll be done with her list and be a “real couple” by then. (Jun-pyo, meanwhile, is exasperated at the prospect of still being with her in 100 days.)

I almost put this screencap up top, because it’s my favorite shot from today, and I think it demonstrates the feel of this episode well — quiet, with space to breathe.

Ji-hoo can see how hurt Jan-di is by the kiss, and continues to follow her as she walks around in a daze (even running into a glass door). As with the mop scene before, Ji-hoo gives Jan-di her space and doesn’t push, but stays in the background until she’s ready to talk. When she finally does, she asks him to take her somewhere.

This ends up being the river.

As they look over the water, Ji-hoo says that Jan-di must have been an otter in a past life — she’s hard-working, cute, and needs water to survive. Jan-di thinks that as long as they’re inventing stories, she could be the Little Mermaid instead, but Ji-hoo vetoes this: It’s too sad to think of her as someone who suffers because of failed love.

Mustering some cheer, Jan-di offers to buy Ji-hoo dinner, so they leave the river and head to a restaurant…

… where they run into Jun-pyo and Jae-kyung. I suppose this run-in makes sense, since this is the restaurant the girls had taken Jae-kyung on their day out.

Oblivious to the tension (whether feigned or real is up for debate), Jae-kyung is happy to see Jan-di and greets them excitedly.



Meanwhile, Ga-eul attends her first day in pottery class, which is taught by a woman named Eun-jae.

I take back what I said about Ga-eul being smart. I’m not saying she’s dumb for taking up pottery because of Yi-jung, and I can understand her actions, but I’m disappointed nonetheless. It’s one thing to harbor a crush for someone you know isn’t good for you (you can’t help your feelings, right?), but another thing to actively cultivate that interest. This is a drama so we know Yi-jung is a decent guy and probably the Perfect Soulmate for Ga-eul… but she doesn’t know that. He hasn’t proven himself to be a good match, and in the absence of that kind of conviction, I’d thought she’d be smarter. Oh well. She’s young and he’s hot.

After class, Eun-jae asks about Ga-eul’s interest in pottery; she answers that someone she knows is a potter. Wanting to share an interest with a friend is a sentiment Eun-jae understands; she explains that that’s how she started, back when she was a child.

Ga-eul asks if Eun-jae’s boyfriend is a potter, and gets the reply that the person in question is a potter, but not her boyfriend. I’m sure we’ve all guessed this much, but Ga-eul starts to get an inkling that Eun-jae refers to Yi-jung when Eun-jae indicates a ceramic mug — she repeats Yi-jung’s words from an earlier episode about how these clay creations are stronger than they appear.

Yi-jung catches his father making out with a younger woman at his studio, and faces him in disgust. Yi-jung asks why his father lives like this, and gets back the response that life is boring. Yi-jung snipes, “Have you ever lived properly even for a moment?”

Dad replies, “There was only one woman who made me want to live right. If you let that woman go, they’re all the same. They’re all just meaningless repetitions.” (Way to be romantic and misogynistic at the same time, dude.)

Yi-jung feels that that’s unfair to his mother, but his father sighs, “That’s why I wish this life would pass quickly. But things don’t work out that way.”

We can see how having a father like this has shaped Yi-jung’s playboy tendencies, but Yi-jung resents hearing that he resembles his father. His father knows Yi-jung hates it (he smiles, “Isn’t that cruel?”), but it’s true.

He leaves him with these pearls of wisdom: “The real thing comes once. That’s another cruel truth.”

Awkward silence prevails at dinner. Jae-kyung notices Jan-di eyeing a notice on the wall, and it piques her interest — it’s a ladies’ challenge. Anyone who finishes a “jumbo ramen” within 20 minutes wins 50 coupons for free ramen. Jae-kyung can tell that Jan-di wants those coupons, so she offers to win them for her. In exchange, she wants a wish from each of them if she succeeds.

Ji-hoo is first to agree, and Jae-kyung dives in.

Everyone watches in a mix of disgust and amazement as Jae-kyung eats, and eats, and eats… and polishes off the gigantic bowl. (More than the stomach space, I fear for her cholesterol and sodium levels.)

She wins the coupons, hands them over to Jan-di as a gift, and claims her wishes: She wants the four of them to go on a trip together. They can stay at one of her family’s resorts. Jun-pyo resists (“I hate double dates”), but Jae-kyung points out that he’d already promised.

After his disturbing confrontation with his father, Yi-jung drowns his sorrows in some hard liquor and loses himself in a childhood memory, when he’d been crying under the table and fearing for his mother’s life. (I’m not sure if she was ill, or perhaps, in keeping with the theme, she had attempted suicide as a result of his father’s infidelity.)

A girl joins Yi-jung under the table — Eun-jae — and comforts him, saying she always knows where to find him. He puts his head in her lap and makes her promise not to leave until he falls asleep.

Feeling lost and alone, Yi-jung now looks at the empty space next to him and imagines that Eun-jae is there, asking brokenly, “Eun-jae, won’t you find me again?”

Still pretending she’s here, Yi-jung lays down as though to put his head in her lap, but in reality just lying down on the empty bench.

Jae-kyung gets her wishes, because the foursome check into her family hotel (I’m so confused — it’s unclear where this is, exactly). Up in their suite, Jae-kyung shows Jan-di a new purchase, thrilling at the couple rings she’s bought for herself and Jun-pyo.

Jan-di is taken aback to see that the rings have been engraved with a “J ♥ J” before realizing it stands for Jae-kyung and Jun-pyo.

Her reaction to the J/J engraving is explained later as she sits by the pool looking at her star-moon necklace, turning it over to reveal the same inscription. But she loses her grasp and drops the necklace into the water. Dismayed, Jan-di decides to retrieve it, and searches until she finds the necklace sitting on the bottom of the pool.

As she swims toward the end of the pool, her faulty shoulder, which has been bothering her all episode, flares up. In pain, she flails around wildly, unable to stay afloat. (AGAIN? I don’t know why a bum shoulder means she can’t use her legs to STAND UP. Excuse me while I pause to go laugh my head off.)

No, really, it’s horrible. I tried really hard to tell myself that the pool was deep, but it was still a hard scene to buy.

And then, things get even cheesier when out of nowhere, Jun-pyo comes swimming out to save Jan-di, pulling her to safety.

Worriedly, he calls out to her and jostles her awake. Jan-di’s first reaction is puzzlement, because Jun-pyo can’t swim. He answers that he learned how, since “I figured I’d rather drown than watch some other guy save you.” Because, as we know, it’s too much to hope for that she ever moves beyond the need for rescue.

Jun-pyo takes Jan-di in his arms and starts to carry her away, which is when the other two come running. Ji-hoo steps in to say he’ll take over from here and help Jan-di back to her room. Reluctantly, Jun-pyo puts Jan-di down and relinquishes her to Ji-hoo’s care, staring intently after her as she walks away. Even Jae-kyung can’t escape noticing his reaction this time. After everyone leaves, she finds Jan-di’s dropped necklace on the ground and reads the inscription curiously.

Yi-jung loiters outside a café and glares through the window at one of the baristas inside. His rage is explained by a flashback, which tells us that this is Yi-jung’s older brother.

The two had had a falling out the day his brother gave up pottery and left home. Apparently they had both studied under their father’s tutelage, but Yi-jung had always been the one with the natural talent, and he’s the one who will take over the family legacy.

Yi-jung had felt betrayed at his brother’s abandonment — he’d escaped but left Yi-jung to shoulder the burden alone. (Yi-jung had never asked to study pottery, although his father had pointed out that he hadn’t protested, either.)

(Oy, the shoutiness and the eye-bugging! Kim Bum, I love you, but you are not in East of Eden anymore.)

Meanwhile, at the undisclosed resort location, Jun-pyo broods alone in the pool, thinking of how he’d had to step back and let Ji-hoo take care of Jan-di. Jae-kyung arrives wearing an uncharacteristically serious and solemn expression, silently removes her robe to reveal a bikini underneath, and joins him in the pool. When he asks what she’s doing, she grabs Jun-pyo suddenly in a back-hug.

At the same time, Jan-di has gotten some medical attention (she’s fine, she just forgot that she shouldn’t swim anymore) and assures Ji-hoo she’s okay. She excuses herself to retrieve something she’d lost, and heads back to find the necklace.

And this is how she comes to see the other couple, embracing in the pool.


COMMENTS

(Did they get a new music director? The Second Moon guy, perhaps?)

Is anyone else feeling tired out by the drama? I don’t mean tired OF the drama, but tired out BY it. I dunno, for mindless entertainment, sometimes it really makes you work at following along.

I didn’t mind the pacing issues (much) because I knew production had to work around Gu Hye-sun’s accident and filming delays. That meant I was generally okay with the episode, except for a few of those truly odd parts that couldn’t be overlooked.

Jae-kyung. I think I have a handle on her character, but as I mentioned, it’s not clear just how much she guesses about Jan-di and Jun-pyo, and how much she’s genuinely ignorant about. I guess it’s up to us to decide for ourselves how manipulative she’s being, but that covers a pretty wide range and I’d rather know for sure if she’s being oblivious, completely manipulative, or halfway in between (I suspect the latter).

Also, what was the point of the ramen scene? I was puzzled as to why Jan-di was so freakin’ passive in this scene — she’s just going to let someone engage in an eating challenge to hand over an awesome prize? When Jae-kyung said she could tell Jan-di wanted those coupons, I wondered, then why doesn’t Jan-di actually WIN them herself? I thought perhaps she’d join the challenge, or maybe they’d both do it, but instead, she just sat back and said nothing, then accepted the prize.

Interestingly, Yi-jung’s father’s view on love is in line with Ga-eul’s philosophy on soulmates, which suggests that Ga-eul is the match for Yi-jung. On the other hand, if Yi-jung has already had a love and lost her, does that mean he’s used up his quota for this lifetime?