Ji-wook tells Yeon-jae to take his money and leave him alone forever.
It’s a supremely unromantic non-confession, as he tells her that she’s
driving him crazy like it’s her fault he’s attracted to her.
She asks what that means, and he asks, “What do you think it means?”
She requests that he cancel the money transfer because she won’t take
the 300 million won, and they go their separate ways. With her accounts
frozen, she doesn’t even have enough cash to take a cab all the way
home, and exits the taxi with only a few dollars to her name.
Ji-wook soon has another visitor: Sae-kyung storms inside and slaps
him for ditching her at the opera. Good lord, slap-happy people of this
drama. You talk with your mouth, not with your hands.
She warns him that she can always dump him, so he replies, “Why don’t
you do that, then?” It’s not like they enjoy each other’s company. She
sneers about his idea of fun, asking mockingly whether he’d prefer to
hold hands and go to amusement parks.
Ji-wook conducts a meeting with Yeon-jae’s old department,
dissatisfied with the team’s lack of suggestions until Bong-gil mentions
a Wando Island tour package that looks promising. But when Ji-wook
hears that this was Yeon-jae’s proposal, he rejects it angrily,
professional that he is. He dismisses the meeting with the pointed
warning that male employees are not to sexually harass the women, adding
that the same goes for women.
While waiting for Hye-won to meet her, Yeon-jae flips through a
magazine and lands on a feature of Andy Wilson. She pulls out a pen and
starts blackening his teeth, which I love because it’s so harmlessly
immature.
Hye-won lends her about $800, which is all she can afford to give.
She relays the story of Ji-wook blowing his lid when Yeon-jae’s name was
mentioned at the meeting and wonders what’s up.
Hye-won spots the photo of Wilson, insulting him like the loyal
friend she is and wondering how a pianist can play with such “pig
hands.” That draws Yeon-jae’s attention to his hands…and the ring on his
finger. The caption puts the photo at a recent Berlin performance.
Yeon-jae gets on the phone, tracing him to his recording label, then to
the hotel in Sydney where he’s currently staying.
Living with one frisky Malbok-ie does, as expected, cramp Eun-seok’s
style; the dog shreds books, knocks over lamps, and pees on his floor.
Eun-seok asks a fellow doctor to take the dog off his hands, but when
Yeon-jae asks him if all’s going well with the dog, he lies and says
yes. Good luck getting rid of him now, ya big softy.
Eun-seok’s avoidant personality is well-known, and even the director
of the hospital points out that his ostracism is self-imposed. His
absence from the dinner the other night has been duly noted, and he
faked a stomach bug last year to get out of performing at the annual
hospital anniversary event. This year marks the 50th, however, so the
director wants the doctors to prepare bigger, better, more exciting
acts.
Eun-seok feels the pressure, and it’s as though being singled out as
the outcast makes him want to prove the director wrong. So when the
director suggests that another doctor perform a dance, Eun-seok blurts,
“I’ll do it.” Go big or go home, right?
Eun-seok confirms that Yeon-jae’s bloodwork came back normal, which
means that her first bout of therapy succeeded. As she’s about to leave,
he holds her back to ask some advice, saying sheepishly, “I did
something even I don’t understand.”
Her response? Tango class.
Eun-seok stands there in total discomfort while Yeon-jae laughs at
his tenseness and tells him to relax. It’s cute that she assumes he’s
anxious because of the dance, when it’s really her that has him so hot
‘n bothered. That obvious unease on his face is sorta awesome.
Eun-seok gets through the steps and Yeon-jae claps excitedly, while
Bong-gil/Ramses enthusiastically praises his talent. He overdoes it a
bit, but confides to the female instructor that it’s just to encourage
him lest he be scared off (after Ji-wook told him he wouldn’t be
returning to classes, Bong-gil had wondered if it was because he’d been
too hard on him, hee).
Contrary to Bong-gil’s opinion, the female instructor looks intently
at Eun-seok and says that he does possess a feel for the dance.
Sitting at home in lieu of going to class, Ji-wook idly flips through TV channels until he comes across the movie
Scent of a Woman and its famous tango sequence, wherein Al Pacino dances skillfully despite his blindness.
So Ji-wook gets up and closes his eyes as he walks through the steps
in his living room, his arms held up to lead an imaginary partner.
Then he imagines Yeon-jae stepping into his arms, and dances with his
image of her for the rest of the song. It winds to a finish and he
opens his eyes, alone again. He looks so bereft at the loss that it
breaks your heart a little.
Eun-seok and Yeon-jae leave dance class in pleasant spirits, and she
sees him off as he takes a cab home. He twists around in his seat to
look back at her, which is adorable and heart-tugging. Aw.
Yeon-jae receives a notice from the court, which she takes to the
legal aid center for interpretation. It’s a notice of arbitration
because the judge has deemed that the claim for 300 million won is too
high. However, this isn’t strictly good news; the lawyer tells her that
it means the judge finds her partially responsible, which means it’s
safer to settle, even if she has to pay 100 million won. It’s better
than the amount she might have to pay if she loses the case at trial.
Another chaebol dinner is called by the oblivious fathers, who think
all is going swimmingly with their spawn. Sae-kyung tells her father
that Ji-wook doesn’t find her company enjoyable, so she plans to match
his interests better from now on.
Sae-kyung takes a call at the table and learns of the arbitration.
She declares that she has no intention of negotiating, pointedly looking
at Ji-wook as she says she’ll see this through to the bitter end.
After the parents leave, Sae-kyung suggests continuing their date.
Per her declaration that she’ll match his tastes, she suggests a gag
concert (which she’d previously rejected as lowbrow), or a common date
walking down the street eating ice cream. Sae-kyung has this massively
infuriating habit of saying things with a sweet overtone that are
actually barbs; this is one example, saying she’ll do what he wants
while simultaneously mocking it.
Ji-wook tells her there’s no reason to take the suit to such
extremes, considering she’s a gajillionaire who doesn’t need the money.
She tells him that since he has such an interest in this case, he’s free
to try meddling while her lawyers crush her opponent: “Does that seem
like fun to you?” Not as fun as it would be to see
you crushed, princess. And I mean crushed, literally. A nice big rock oughtta do it.
Sae-kyung’s secretary, Mr. Ex-Creepy, notes that she seems
particularly sensitive these days. She sighs, and even wonders if she’s
taking out her anger over her gold-digging ex-boyfriend on Yeon-jae
instead. Wow, a moment of insight from Pissy Princess? Maybe there’s
hope for you yet. You know, way, way, waaaaaay off in the future. I
still want you to suffer, ideally accompanied by heaps of humiliation —
but
maybe I might be willing to wish you some peace at the end of it. It’s a big if.
Yeon-jae continues leaving messages for Wilson with increasing
desperation, and finally gets through to his manager/assistant. She asks
whether the ring in the photo is the one Wilson had lost, but the
manager tells her coolly that an identical ring was made to replace it.
He asks her not to call again, and defeated, Yeon-jae hangs up.
The manager turns to Wilson, who has been sitting nearby nervously,
and suggests that Wilson come clean about the truth. Wilson bursts out
in a fit of embarrassment and pride, saying he can’t apologize now and
admit the ring he’d been so angry about was, in fact, stuck to his ass
the whole time. Ha. Well, he has a point about it being mortifying.
Hopes crushed, Yeon-jae sits in the lobby of the Line Tour office.
Ji-wook takes a step in her direction, but stops when her friend Hye-won
joins her, all worry.
Yeon-jae tearily says that she may have to pay the 100 million won,
which she’d scrimped and saved for the past decade to collect. Bitter
with indignation, she cries as she says she’d never once pinned her
hopes on winning the lottery or scoring a rich man, just worked steadily
on her own. Given all that, “Shouldn’t I at least be able to live?” She
breaks down into sobs while Hye-won gathers her in a comforting hug.
Ji-wook redoubles his efforts to find evidence to support Yeon-jae’s
innocence, though it’s a daunting task. But smart Sang-woo (God bless
Sang-woo, who I like more and more with every episode) has compiled a
few photos featuring Wilson wearing the ring at a couple concerts, the
latest one from this month.
Ji-wook gets on the phone and calls Wilson, whose nervous guilt makes
him burst out, “What is with you people?! Do you have any proof that
it’s the same ring? It’s a new ring!” Way to give yourself away, buddy.
Ji-wook gets Wilson to say that the same famed jeweler made both rings,
then catches him in the lie because the guy died last year.
Wilson gasps, “Oh my god,” and hangs up on him to avoid explanation.
HAHAHA. He’s got the emotional maturity of a six-year-old. At least this
supports Ji-wook’s suspicion that Wilson didn’t lose the ring, and he
schedules a flight to Sydney.
Yeon-jae asks her mother if she’d ever remarry, not wanting to leave
her mother alone upon her death. Mom says she has no reason to, since
marriage at her age would just mean she’d have to cook and clean for
someone else. Yeon-jae points out that it’s nice to have someone around
to help you through the hard times, and urges Mom to think about dating.
Arbitration day rolls around, and Yeon-jae enters the room with heavy
heart. The judge urges both sides to settle upon 100 million won,
rather than dragging this to trial. Yeon-jae argues that there’s no
evidence that she stole, but Sae-kyung’s lawyers are here to play
hardball and they take the ad hominem attack route, painting her as a
bad employee. They even point out that she took a personal day off from
work the day after the ring debacle —
to be diagnosed for terminal cancer, assholes — and the message is clear that they’re prepared for a smear campaign.
Sae-kyung tells the judge prettily that Yeon-jae never once expressed
apologies for causing the uproar, and that she only initiated the suit
because she didn’t see any remorse from her. However, if Yeon-jae were
to apologize and acknowledge her wrongdoing, she will agree to settle.
And so Yeon-jae sits there, feeling unfairly backed into a corner and pressed for a response — just as the door opens.
Wilson steps through and tells the judge that this gathering is unnecessary: “You see, I never lost my ring.”
Now for some satisfying awkwardness: Wilson sits at a cafe with
Yeon-jae, nervously looking everywhere but at her and babbling to cover
up his guilt. Yeon-jae looks at him resentfully while he rambles about
long flights and tea, until she asks accusingly, “How could you do this
to me?”
Wilson fumbles for excuses, which are all the flimsier for the fact
that he knows how wrong he was. Finally, he says quietly, “I’m sorry. I
apologize. I mean it.”
But that’s inadequate, and she tells him all he had to do was say the
truth, which gets him saying defensively that he’s been wracked with
nerves since then. He even goes so far as to make it about
him: “Do you know how painful it was for me?”
Yeon-jae wonders what prompted him to change his mind and return to
Korea. He mutters, “Because that jerk threatened me. Bastard.” Ha.
Yeon-jae is shocked to hear Wilson’s story of how Ji-wook tricked him —
it turns out that jeweler Jacques isn’t even dead — and flew to Sydney
to bring him back.
That night, Yeon-jae walks to Ji-wook’s home bearing a gift, only to
be beat to the punch by Sae-kyung, who pulls up in her car just ahead of
her. Yeon-jae turns around, fruit basket in hand, and goes home.
Sae-kyung gets right to the point, telling him she knows he went to
Sydney, informing him that she was made a laughingstock at court today.
(Ah, such satisfying words.) She asks point-blank if he’s interested in
Yeon-jae, and wonders if he’s been seeing her all this time.
Ji-wook admits that Yeon-jae had “bothered his mind” — a saying often
used as a precursor to a confession of interest, when a person
preoccupies your thoughts — and asks, “Have you ever been poor?” So poor
that she didn’t know what she’d eat tonight?
Sae-kyung scoffs, “And you have?” He replies, “If you were going to
have me investigated, you ought to have done it properly, and seen what
kind of past I lived.” Huh. Interesting. So Ji-wook isn’t quite the
spoiled pretty boy he seems?
She asks if he plans to continue to be “bothered” by Yeon-jae, and he
retorts that her lawsuit was actually the reason he was so preoccupied:
“Now that the lawsuit is over, I won’t have cause to be bothered
anymore.”
Yeon-jae visits Sae-kyung’s office, sits down, and asks straight out,
“How are you going to apologize?” Booyah. I do love her frankness. With
a glare, Sae-kyung places an envelope on the table, and Yeon-jae
comments that she’s so predictable. Sae-kyung snits that Yeon-jae is,
too, supposing she’s here to demand an apology, delivered on her knees.
Yeon-jae surprises her by saying no: “What would I do with an apology
that has not even a fingertip’s worth of sincerity in it? Even money’s
better than that.” She takes the envelope.
Sae-kyung twists Ji-wook’s words from the night before and says that
he’d told her he was bothered by his pity for poor, penniless Yeon-jae.
So now she won’t have to seek him out using money as her excuse.
Yeon-jae: “I was planning to let things
go at this point because I hate the idea of being connected to you any
longer. But that won’t do.”
Sae-kyung: “And what will you do about that?”
Yeon-jae: “I’m going to take revenge on you. If I don’t, I’ll feel so wronged I won’t be able to die.”
Sae-kyung: “Do you think you have that kind of strength?”
Yeon-jae: “You don’t know what kind of strength I have.”
Wilson leaves the hotel to head for the airport, and gives Ji-wook
the request to pass along a gift to Yeon-jae, having forgotten to do it
when he’d seen her. Ji-wook declines, saying he doesn’t want her to know
of his involvement in this matter. Wilson says he told her everything
yesterday, to which Ji-wook says exasperatedly, “Why did you do that?!”
Wilson has his number, though, and says that it’s obvious Ji-wook did
everything to win Yeon-jae’s favor. He tells him that Yeon-jae’s a good
woman and wishes him well with her.
Ji-wook contemplates the gift, which turns out to be Wilson’s own
ring, the source of all this craziness. Well, as far as apologies go, at
least it’s a pretty big gesture from the neurotic pianist who used to
insist he couldn’t perform without it.
Wilson’s parting words stick with him: “You’ll see her anyway, since
she’ll be coming around to thank you.” Wondering when that’ll happen,
Ji-wook scrolls through his cell phone log of recent calls to confirm
that he hasn’t somehow missed a call, then tosses it aside when her name
isn’t there. He perks up when his phone rings — then deflates to see
Sae-kyung’s name.
Arg, I hate the way she’s so good at using the truth, twisted
slightly, to further her own agenda: She tells Ji-wook that Yeon-jae
came looking for her today demanding money, which she provided.
Yeon-jae does contemplate calling Ji-wook, but the memory of
Sae-kyung keeps her from doing it. Instead, she puts the money to good
use by donating it to the hospital, to be used for patients who can’t
afford treatment.
She explains this to Eun-seok at the hospital, giving him the vague
story about coming into some money recently in exchange for enduring a
slap to the face and a lot of grief at the hands of a spoiled chaebol.
Eun-seok asks Yeon-jae hesitantly to be his partner for his tango
performance, and quickly accepts her denial when she says she’s not good
enough to perform. But she changes her mind and figures she could give
it a shot — as long as she gets a favor in return.
Still waiting for Yeon-jae to contact him, Ji-wook checks with his
secretary to confirm that he’s up to date on his calls. He almost calls
her himself, but decides to try the indirect route first by asking
Bong-gil about tango class. Only because he felt bad about depriving the
class of a male partner, of course. Uh huh. Sure.
Bong-gil assures him that the class is fine, since Yeon-jae brought
in “Schweitzer” (in reference to the famous doctor), her clean-cut
childhood classmate who dances well. Hee. Immediately Ji-wook guesses
who this is — thinking back to the fanmeeting — and confirms that the
guy’s a doctor, wears glasses, and has slanty eyes. HA.
Ji-wook and Sang-woo head to an upscale hotel for a business meeting…
just as Yeon-jae arrives with her mother for a blind date. Ha, I love
the reversal, given how Mom ambushed her with that dating service
appointment early on. Now it’s Mom’s turn to fidget, and Yeon-jae gives
her the code word: If she likes him, it’s grape. If she doesn’t, it’s
orange.
Eun-seok has brought a sunbae, but he’s the one fidgeting anxiously
as he waits. When he catches a glimpse of Yeon-jae, his jaw literally
drops and his heart pounds. Aw, it’s so sweet.
The older couple hits it off right away, and Mom gives Yeon-jae a few
kicks to send her on her way. Yeon-jae had arranged the double date to
relieve the pressure from the older couple, but now she figures she
didn’t need to bother and apologizes for dragging Eun-seok along. If
only she knew…
As they wait for the elevator, she gets the text from Mom indicating
that the date is a success, and excitedly tells Eun-seok the good news.
She’s so thrilled that she doesn’t notice that the elevator has stopped
and awaits new passengers.
Ji-wook notices her before she notices him, taking in the friendly
familiarity between her and Eun-seok. He asks coldly if she’s getting
in, and her emotions plummet swiftly from happiness to uneasy dread.
The elevator ride is quiet and fraught with tension, as Ji-wook
thinks back to the fanmeeting and Eun-seok’s first-love story. Eun-seok
is oblivious and tells her, “It’s a relief that your mother likes
[him].” But the object of that sentence is implied, so it’s natural for
Ji-wook to assume that Eun-seok means himself. Given their formal attire
and meeting in a hotel, the likely presumption is that the couple has
just come from meeting Mom, who approves of the boyfriend. A serious
boyfriend, at that, one who’s thinking of marrying her.
Yeon-jae remains acutely aware of Ji-wook’s presence behind her as
they walk out, even as they make no sign of acquaintance. Finally,
Ji-wook calls out her name, forcing her to stop and explain to Eun-seok
that he’s her old boss.
Ji-wook and Yeon-jae step aside, and he takes her to task for not
bothering to thank him, accusing her of being mercenary based on her
immediate demands of money. She doesn’t contradict him, and challenges:
“Why? Is there something wrong with that?”
Ji-wook: “So you took that money and came here? You weren’t the kind
of person who could afford to come to places like this. After you’d come
begging me when you needed every penny—”
Eun-seok cuts in to tell him to knock it off. He’s put enough of the
story together to guess, “Are you the one who slapped her face and
accused her of being a thief? That money she got from you—”
Yeon-jae asks him to stop before he can finish. Murmuring a
perfunctory goodbye, she pulls Eun-seok along. Ji-wook stands there for a
few long moments, then makes the decision to follow, stalking outside
to catch up.
He stops at a distance, and hears Eun-seok asking why Yeon-jae didn’t
clear up the misunderstanding, why she didn’t explain what she did with
the money.
Yeon-jae tearily admits, “I went to his house, because I wanted to
thank him. No, I was using that as an excuse, because I wanted to see
his face again. But I couldn’t do it. I wanted to see him, but I had to
turn back.”
Ohhh, poor Poopy-seok. And I so wanted you to win your love and be happy forever with your ill-trained dog.
Eun-seok gets her implication, but asks to make it clear, “What do you mean by that? Do you…like that man?”
Yeon-jae: “I wish I didn’t like him, but I can’t help it. I like him so much.”
COMMENTSAww, I knew Poopy-seok was headed for heartbreak, but it didn’t keep
me from wishing him happiness anyway. And now he’s stuck with a mangy
mutt that eats his pillows and makes him sneeze, while the love of his
life — who’s dying — just professed her feelings for that rich asshole.
If there’s any consolation, at least he’s the better dancer?
As I mentioned, the show manages to stay completely engaging despite
what we know is coming down the line. It’s the dilemma of all trendy
dramas, to keep viewers entertained while working within such a
conventional formula. But even within these fixed parameters of
boy-meets-girl, boy-fights-with-girl (and fights, and fights, and
fights), boy-wins-girl, boy-fights-fate-for-girl, it’s a skill to be
able to draw out the emotions in credible, relatable ways.
For example, it’s one thing to tell us that these characters are
falling for each other, but it’s quite a feat to make our emotions
regarding the hero mirror the heroine’s, and developing on the same
timetable. I feel as conflicted about Ji-wook as Yeon-jae does, finding
him incredibly arrogant and off-putting, wanting him to suffer, and yet
being drawn to him all the same and ultimately wanting him to overcome
his own conflict about his feelings. I want Ji-wook to grovel at her
feet, at the same time that I want him to be happy. Which sort of
conflicts with my whole Eun-seok love, which just kills me. Ack! Why
can’t everyone just be happy?