Shining Star
In the past, when media options were limited, television held absolute power.
Pretty much the entire nation would huddle together in front of the TV on holidays—it was just everyday life.
Sure, there were games and other things back then too, but they weren't exactly mainstream.
If anything, they were on the fringes.
Even in the 2000s, decent dramas routinely pulled 40-50% ratings. And the actors who appeared in them shot to superstardom overnight. It wasn't uncommon for a total unknown to ride one hit drama to national fame, becoming a household name known to every single person.
The weekend wrap-up gag shows and variety programs wielded insane influence too. The moment a catchy catchphrase popped up in a segment, kids heading to school the next day would be parroting it left and right—not an unusual sight at all. Even adults joined in.
It was an era where checking ads to see when your favorite show started and waiting eagerly wasn't weird at all.
But time passed. The 2010s turned into the 2020s, and TV's dominance faded. Media exploded in every hand-held device. People stopped waiting for broadcasts. They just hunted down what they wanted to watch. And there were tens of thousands—no, hundreds of thousands—of options.
Every single YouTube channel was basically its own network. One person's self-produced content could keep you glued forever. Media overflowed.
But this was the 2000s. None of that existed yet.
And so, Things Like That in the World aired without a hitch.
This show routinely scored 10-15% ratings. With a national population of 50 million, that meant 5 to 7.5 million viewers. And since TVs weren't watched solo—places like shops had groups tuning in—it was safe to say nearly 10 million people caught it.
Ratings like that were only possible in the 2000s. By the 2020s, they'd pat themselves on the back for hitting even 5%, let alone 10%.
"Oh my gosh..."
"Is that even possible?"
In an ordinary, happy household, the variety show left the family stunned.
A tiny kid writing a novel? It felt utterly alien. She was just starting elementary school—how could she produce writing like that?
"Whoa..."
A salaryman on the subway, earbuds in, watching via DMB on his phone, let out an exclamation. It made him think of his own kids at home. Same first-grade elementary students, yet worlds apart. Not that his were bad, of course.
"Sniff sniff..."
"So heartbreaking."
A group drinking at a bar teared up watching the kid speak. The burden she carried was far too heavy for a child. Debts in the tens of billions, living in a house on the verge of collapse. No one could call Sora's home on the broadcast "nice" with a straight face.
People always empathized with kids from rough backgrounds, projecting themselves into the story.
Wealthy families were hard to relate to, but hardship? That could hit anyone, anytime. It drew you right in.
"A novel? I'm just writing because I want to."
"What do I think of Mom and Dad? They're the ones who brought me into this world—people I'm grateful to."
"Have things ever been tough because we're poor? Not really. I'm not exactly a kid anymore..."
"Is writing hard? I think of Mom and Dad and push through. They're out there working in the freezing cold, while compared to them, I'm in a pretty great spot."
"My goal? To become Korea's greatest writer."
People saw the light.
A brilliantly shining light.
"Mm..."
I watched Things Like That in the World nestled in Mom and Dad's arms. I hadn't wanted to watch it with them, but they insisted, so I had no choice.
Mom and Dad beamed from ear to ear in front of the TV.
"Here comes Sora!"
"Ah! Should've dressed her in something nicer..."
"The camera can't even capture how cute our girl really is...!"
"Aigoo, aigoo~ Our daughter's too adorable!"
"Whoa... Sora, you write novels like that?"
Mom and Dad grinned nonstop, poking at my cheeks like it was the best thing ever. Oh, and their faces aired completely unblurred. I'd asked for mosaics...
The first half felt like a feature on my astonishing novel-writing talent—investigative vibes.
"Is it okay for Mom and Dad to show up without mosaics?"
"Huh? We were filming together—if we mosaicked them, it wouldn't make sense. Told them no need."
"Yeah."
"Phew..."
Well, Mom and Dad could handle it themselves.
But the end shifted. Less about my skills, more family stories.
I was shocked watching Mom and Dad's interviews.
First time hearing their true feelings like this. Even in tough times, they hid their pain—probably to spare me worry. But in front of the camera, they opened up a bit.
"All I feel is sorry for Sora. Can't give her what she wants to eat, or nice clothes... It breaks my heart."
"Sora acts so mature, but any other kid would've been crying and throwing tantrums by now."
"Even at the free soup kitchen, she's more confident eating than we are... As parents, it's embarrassing we can't even provide proper meals."
Hearing their inner thoughts like this left a bittersweet ache in my chest.
Then my interview came on. Seeing myself say those things on TV... it didn't feel like me.
"Mom... Dad..."
"Sora..."
Before I knew it, my throat tightened like I was about to burst into tears. Something wet trailed down my cheek. Mom and Dad pulled me close seeing that. We hugged and cried together. Because the broadcast had laid bare our true hearts.
That day felt especially warm. We'd confirmed each other's feelings—and wanted to show the world that even in poverty, we could overcome and be happy. For everyone watching.
The world changed a little.
More precisely, after I appeared on Things Like That in the World.
"Oh my! Are you the Sora from the show?"
"Ah, yes... that's me."
"Oh my gosh! You're so cute!"
Riding the bus, people recognized me constantly. Guess this was the raw power of 2000s media. With 20% of the nation watching, it was inevitable. And honestly, my looks weren't ordinary.
Gazing in the mirror, even I sometimes couldn't get over how cute and pretty I was. Mom had even joked about making me an idol.
No one suggests idol life to someone without the chops. So yeah, even Mom saw how adorable I was.
I'd braced myself before airing, but this level of recognition? Kinda overwhelming.
If I'd gone on a 2020s show, would it have been like this? Probably not—most folks wouldn't know. Media was so fragmented back then, attention scattered.
YouTubers with a million subs? Plenty had never heard of them. Even ten million didn't guarantee fame. Media saturation split the spotlight.
But not now.
"Hoo..."
On the bus ride to Songi Media, I ran into a few more who knew me. Lucky this wasn't some sketchy South American spot— just friendly chats.
Though with the broadcast showing our house... what if fans showed up at our door?
Good thing the PD edited the approach to our place. Tucked in a hard-to-find corner, it wasn't easy to track down from the exterior shots alone.
I stepped into Songi Media. In the office, Yoo Min-ah grinned at me.
"Sora~ How's it feel to be a nationwide star?"
"Not great."
"Huh?"
Yoo Min-ah deflated at my response.