Dual Scripts and the Road to Olympic Gold
The reason collection games are so dangerous, Donghu, is that they hit a ridiculously wide range of temptation points. You want to buy this one and collect it, then that one too, and before you know it, your bank account's wiped clean.
Bong Jinwoo was actively exploiting that very fact. And the results of his strategy showed up immediately in the audience reactions.
Even the positive reactions varied in strange ways. When people talked about specific parts, it felt like they hadn't even seen the same play. The audience found this bizarre, and soon enough, they uncovered the truth.
No matter how good the content or how it's "for the kids," plays aimed at children rarely become massive hits.
That's why Bong Jinwoo created two scripts. One for general audiences, the other for kids. That explained why the script Kim Donghu first received differed from the one performed for the orphanage children.
In business, the key is meeting customers at their level. The big picture stayed the same, but subtle staging and dialogue variations were essential.
The stage has grown. No one can afford to lose out.
Bong Jinwoo wanted to give kids dreams, but he was also an orphanage child who matured faster than most. So even with capital pouring in, he didn't chase pipe dreams blindly.
Turning a one-time charity show into a full week? That's already a miracle.
The miracle was done. Now it was time to write the story of reality.
The pilot wasn't just regretful—he was laced with greed. The baobab tree and volcano cared for the Little Prince but in misguided ways. Adults on other planets revealed singular desires. The fox taught taming but noted knowing and doing are different. The vast rose field was rife with envy, jealousy, and vanity. Only the thornless rose—the Little Prince's one true love—spoke of pure affection.
Bong Jinwoo didn't believe a "kids' play" had to entertain adults too.
Kids' innocence and adults' cheesiness tolerance aren't the same.
So The Star and Moon Story split into two versions. Volunteer work mattered, but the core was "how much did it rake in?"
Assuming all profits go to the orphanage, maximizing earnings is the win.
He knew the hope from the play wouldn't last forever. Reality would crash back, cold problems resurfacing. Sure, Kim Donghu's Little Prince act let everyone forget for now—but real knots needed real ties.
The general-audience run exploded in popularity. With an all-star cast at peak fame breathing life into the stage, the raw energy hooked repeat viewers. Ticket wars erupted.
Thus, the month-and-a-half run of The Star and Moon Story flew by like an arrow. It was August. Fireworks Theater's wild victory party kicked off.
+++++
About five months since Fireworks Theater formed. Constant rehearsals bonded them tight. The closest pair?
*Smooch.* Kim Donghu and Kim Sujin, casually glued together.
Including rehearsals, they'd hugged over 100 times. Skinship felt natural now.
Normally, friends would tease—but no one dared under Kim Yuryeon's goblin-glare watch.
Interrupt my daughter's romance and you're dead.
It wasn't weird anyway. Romance comedies often turned real after filming. A month-plus of this play without sparks? Suspicious.
"Alright! Everyone worked so hard. But first, let's hear from our director?"
The party opened with Bong Jinwoo's greeting.
"Uh, um... Ah... Th-this has been a dream month. So much I wanna say, but words fail me... St-still! I dedicate all glory to Kim Donghu, who made this possible!"
Laughter erupted. Undeniable truth. Donghu's spark had rolled this far.
As the party buzzed...
"...Ahem. K-Kinda dizzy."
Kim Sujin rolled her eyes, then softly leaned into Kim Donghu's arms.
"Dizzy? You barely drank."
"Wh-What if I am dizzy?!"
"You were fine earlier. How now?"
"Wh-Whatever! If I say I'm dizzy, worry first!"
"It's the vagueness that's weird."
Sighs rippled around.
Our maknae's hopeless there.
He had tact sometimes. How'd he miss blatant flirting?
Should I coach him?
Han Taekon rose, frustrated—then felt his wrist grabbed.
"Sunbae?"
"Taekon, don't butt into kids' fun."
*You're blocking my girl's marriage? Die?* Kim Yuryeon's eyes said. Han Taekon nodded and sat.
Right then—
"Ugh, forget it!"
Kim Sujin shot up, furious. Party-killer potential.
"Our rose, where to?"
Kim Donghu yanked her into his lap.
Jin Myeongtae got it: delivery matters.
That face sells it perfectly.
He bulldozed cheesiness with looks. Roller of romance—utterly convincing.
"Pushed me off earlier, now this?"
"Fine then, need it now?"
"Hah! Kim Donghu, you're insane!"
Kim Sujin, anger melted, punched playfully and settled.
Witnessing early-2000s webnovel vibes live. Now he got why protags were always hottest.
No one buys it without that face.
Everyone agreed—then the TV blared.
+++++
Fireworks Theater and The Star and Moon Story. Dual scripts for kids and adults, satisfying all ages. Promo never stopped during the run, hyping it as a once-in-a-lifetime troupe via interviews.
Many scrapped those moments. Naturally, including Baek Sangha.
"Perfect."
Kim Donghu's gym owner, ex-pro fighter, special forces secret. He nodded at the wall of Donghu's framed triumphs.
"As expected of Donghu."
But one ultimate foe loomed.
Military.
Every Korean man's duty. No exemption for Donghu. Dodging abroad? Not his style.
Baek Sangha had a fix.
Win Olympic gold.
2016 Brazil Olympics. Boxing rep medal?
Service exemption! National glory!
Jackpot life.