Mom's First Love and Overnight Stardom
SLAM!
The door shut with a resounding bang.
Rub rub.
Kwak Da-eun rubbed her eyes. Her smartphone? Right there in her hand.
That woman who just went in—she said she was her daughter? She seems pretty feisty.
Well, at least that's a relief. Coming from the rough-and-tumble Hwagwon-gwak clan, Da-eun could brush off a personality like that with a laugh.
"What the…"
Whatever. Doesn't matter to her.
Kwak Da-eun turned on her heel and headed home.
She was the black sheep of the family. Or more accurately, she had a bit of a wild streak. On a whim to experience life as a commoner, she'd left the main house and moved to Hannam-dong—only to stumble into an unexpected connection.
The eldest daughter of Kwak Ha-rang, current guild master of the Mountain Army Guild. As she walked, Da-eun mulled over their conversation from earlier today. Her mother, whom she'd trained alongside since childhood. Always cold and stoic, never one to offer even a scrap of praise.
And then.
Ring ring ring.
Her smartphone, left behind earlier, started ringing. Speak of the tiger. Kwak Da-eun picked up immediately.
"Yes."
[Did the move go well?]
"Yes. I unpacked."
[Come back to the main house.]
"Understood."
She didn't ask why. Because she was strong. In their family, that was reason enough. That was the world Kwak Da-eun had always known.
The short call ended abruptly. And this time, it was Da-eun doing the dialing.
[Yes, miss?]
"To the main house."
[Shall I pick you up from your new place?]
"Yes. Please."
Polite, yet crisp. A world away from how she'd chatted with Lee Yoo-seong. Compared to her usual bubbly tone, the difference was night and day.
Heading home. After about a minute's wait, a sleek black car pulled up nearby.
Familiar maneuver. Kwak Da-eun slid straight into the back seat, and the driver took off without a word of greeting.
Moments later, she entered the building with practiced ease.
Into her mother's study. Where the guild master was buried in paperwork.
But.
"…?"
"Guild Master Kwak Ha-rang is currently at dinner."
"I see."
A question mark floated over Kwak Da-eun's face. Why call her here? Usually it was the study or the training hall. They occasionally crossed paths in the living room, but like most mother-daughter pairs in their household, it was all business—no warmth.
The moment Da-eun turned to leave again.
"Sit."
"Yes, Mother."
She'd already eaten, but Da-eun took a seat anyway.
A meal already laid out. A gesture of care, in their own way. Her mother's subtle show of concern.
Exactly two servings. Amid the lavish spread, the two ate in silence for a good ten minutes.
"Something special going on?"
"Yes, Mother."
Da-eun set down her knife mid-steak and spoke. If anything, it was Kwak Ha-rang who looked puzzled.
She really doesn't know? Da-eun wondered if her mother had orchestrated this on purpose.
And why not? With the Mountain Army Guild's intelligence network, tracking down an academy classmate would be child's play.
Kwak Ha-rang shot her a curious glance. It was disarming. Da-eun had never seen her mother this intrigued—maybe ever.
"Well… I met a guy next door."
"……."
Da-eun gauged her reaction carefully.
And then.
"He said he was… Mother's classmate."
"……!!"
Kwak Da-eun. In her twenty years of life, had she ever seen anything like this?
Her own mother. The master of the Mountain Army Guild, Kwak Ha-rang—wearing that expression? It didn't compute.
To confirm she'd heard right, Kwak Ha-rang's golden eyes sparkled as she asked.
"Purple hair?"
"Yes."
"Eyes too…"
"Then his name…"
"Lee Yoo-seong… Before marriage, Na Yoo-seong."
Rumble. Da-eun's world crumbled.
Stoic face. Angry glare. Rare praise.
That had been her entire universe.
But the trembling pupils. The twitching eyes. The mouth opening and closing sporadically—it all screamed that Yoo-seong's words were true.
Still, Da-eun hesitated to speak. The gap in her knowledge held her back.
What had happened between her mother and this man? What could make her wear such a wistful look?
Da-eun was dying to know, but she held her tongue.
"He…"
"……."
Focus. And then the words came.
"…was my first love."
"……."
Da-eun's jaw dropped. Her grip slackened, and the knife clattered to the plate.
Kwak Da-eun. Age twenty. Her world shattered twice.
"I-is it really over?"
"Yeah. Let's head home, Dad."
Whew. It's really done.
Exhausted—utterly spent. I surrender. Even walking feels impossible.
Right after the interview, we dashed straight to the photo studio. With the reservation already set, no wait time—we wrapped up the shoot smoothly. Grabbed tonkatsu downstairs to cap off the day.
Back home.
"You did great, Dad. I'm so proud."
"Thanks… Ji-ah."
But…
Thump, thump.
"Do you have to…?"
"Oh, sorry."
Ji-ah hoisted me up again, swinging me in the air. Too drained to protest, I went limp, and she set me down gently.
I slumped against my buddy the sofa. So tired. Could I just pass out like this?
"Ji-ah…"
"Yeah. Night, Dad."
The living room went dark. One button shaded every window. Money really is the best.
Ji-ah headed to her room. What time is it? Around three p.m.?
Just a quick nap. Then make dinner… eat with Ji-ah…
Eyes growing heavy. Guess I really pushed it. Body doesn't lie.
And then.
"Ah…?"
Chirp, chirp chirp.
Morning birdsong. I'd conked out on the wide sofa. A blanket over me—Ji-ah's doing, no doubt.
Phone check: 8 a.m. Wait, evening? Nope. Pure morning.
Morning for real. So how many hours was that…?
"G-good lord…"
"Dad's up?"
"Ji-ah?"
There she was, strolling in in workout gear. Doubting reality, I asked her.
"D-did I…?"
"You were out cold… so I ate dinner on my own."
"S-sorry, Ji-ah."
"No biggie. The braised short ribs were delicious. You okay, Dad?"
"…Yeah. Feeling great."
She smiled.
"Then make breakfast!"
"Got it…!"
Energy surged. Back to routine. Loving daily life with my daughter.
After that, it was easy. Over 16 hours of sleep, but condition peak.
Cooked rice, tidied up. Breakfast with Ji-ah done by 10 a.m.
"Ji-ah."
"Yeah, Dad."
"Dad's thinking of looking for work soon."
Ji-ah flinched on the sofa.
We were chilling with TV. Post-interview, I'd evolved! No longer a total shut-in—just a shy uncle. Hoodie over face, all black outfit? I could solo outings.
Anyway. Her reaction mattered.
"It's fine, Dad."
"Huh?"
"We don't need the money… I've been thinking, this is plenty."
"…Yeah?"
"Yeah. The house feels empty without you."
She's right. But me? Secretly petty. Even with our bond stronger, I remember her teen outburst.
Get out. Be independent. Get a job.
Can't live without Ji-ah. Still, I'll keep trying.
Land a job. One more effort left? Even part-time once a week—proper society, like she said.
No need to tell her. Job hunt starts anyway.
"Gotta check Nutube."
Dad working makes her anxious? Ji-ah muttered to herself, switching to Nutube on the TV.
Scrolling shorts as usual…
"…?"
"……???"
Question marks on both our faces.
3.9 million views. Not insane for a short, but solid.
Familiar setup. Street interview vid.
[Hello. Mind a quick interview?]
Academy uniform duo. Woman mosaicked.
But…
"Dad…?"
"J-Ji-ah… that's definitely…"
Me. Has to be. Blushing, shaking my head no.
The guy on Nutube… was me.
"N-no way? They, they mosaicked…"
"You asked them to, right?"
Ji-ah stared, equally shocked. I nodded, replaying the memory.
[Uh, we…]
Mosaic, I said. She got it—praised her smarts inwardly.
[Yep! Academy kids' privacy is key. I'll blur you good.]
Satisfied. Relieved. But Korean proverb: hear it to the end. Forgot the start mattered too.
Academy portrait rights—for fledgling hunters, cautious.
Meaning… I'm no academy kid.
She'd blur Ji-ah fine. Never said me.
"Dad…"
"Yeah…?"
"Over 30k comments?"
"Wh-when'd it drop?"
"…10 hours ago."
Ah… aaaah…
"Dad? Snap out of it… Dad…?"
Goodbye… world.
