Su-a Answers the Call
The members poured out their reactions as soon as they heard the mission details.
“Whoa, you pulled an easy one!”
“Bungee jump exemption with a single phone call? Na-yun really does have all the luck.”
“No way. What if a five-year-old kid shows up? Na-yun unnie, who do you think is the youngest?”
“Well, um...”
At that moment, the words the writer had whispered before filming started flashed through her mind.
“You filmed that one-act drama recently, right? Might as well promote it while you’re at it.”
Of course she had said yes, of course she had thanked them, but this?
She had done some light promotion during the opening, but this?!
The image of that cute smiling face rose in her mind, but surely not?!?
Oh Na-yun frantically scrolled through her contacts. In her long career she had exchanged numbers with all kinds of people, yet very few could be called “young.”
The youngest was obviously…
“That kid’s ten! I’m finished!”
The wicked production team would never give a question a ten-year-old could actually answer.
Oh Na-yun fell into despair while the members and crew burst into delighted laughter.
No one doubted that Oh Na-yun was bungee-jumping today.
After the meal, a mountain of strawberries arrived for dessert. Kwon Jin-ho performed the feat of stuffing five strawberries into his mouth at once.
We clapped and egged him on to fit more when Kwon Du-il cleared his throat with a loud “Ahem.”
Oops. Had we teased him too much?
Fortunately no scolding followed.
“Su-a, when your mother gets here there’s something Uncle wants to ask…”
Just as I thought we were finally getting to the real reason he had invited us over, Mom’s phone rang. She had stepped away to the bathroom for a moment, so I checked the screen.
“It’s Senior Na-yun. Sorry, may I take this? I’ll be quick.”
“Oh my, go right ahead. But isn’t Na-yun filming right now…?”
Kwon Du-il waved his hand, saying we were going to talk about it once Mom returned anyway. The instant I tapped the call button, an urgent voice burst out before I could even greet her.
“Hello, Su-a’s mother! This is Oh Na-yun, who filmed the one-act drama with Su-a this time! This is sudden, but could I possibly speak with Su-a right now?”
“Senior, it’s Su-a.”
“Su-Su-a?! Where’s your mother?”
“Mom’s busy at the moment. I can talk! What’s going on?”
“Ah, then…! (Na-yun, just do it!)”
Murmurs from the other people on the other end of the line drifted through the speaker. Kwon Du-il had mentioned earlier that it was Na-yun’s filming time.
Every Try?
My eyes sparkled.
Every Try, shortened to E-chu, was the flagship variety program of the comprehensive channel ENV. Its concept was “We really try everything!”—a real variety show that ran absurd missions, games, and even serious long-term projects. The concept changed every episode, yet it captured the cast’s chemistry so well that it had been airing for over five years.
Original member Oh Na-yun had boosted her recognition through the show, and the show had gained viewers thanks to her performance; they were in a mutually beneficial relationship.
Considering the broadcast date of Father’s Judgment, this must be promotion. Perfect.
It was my first variety show both before and after my regression. And if it was the ratings-guaranteed Every Try, appearing even by phone call was pure profit.
As if confirming my guess, Na-yun fired off a quiz immediately.
“I’ll give you the question, so answer it! What did you and I eat together on set? The one with the fried egg on top!”
Maybe because it was for promotion, the question was ridiculously easy.
When I pretended to be flustered, Na-yun’s groan came through. Loud laughter erupted beside her.
“Um… that was fried rice! Kimchi fried rice!”
“Correct! …Wait, what kind of question is this? Okay, Su-a. In the drama I marry Du-il oppa, right? But that’s the second time.”
“Remarriage?”
“Yes, that! Our Su-a is a genius!”
Oh Na-yun’s voice was so loud it nearly hurt my ears. The others seemed to have caught on to the situation. Everyone stared at me with tense expressions. Mom, who had returned from the bathroom, sat down beside me.
“In Father’s Judgment, what was the relationship between me and Su-a? Two Chinese characters!”
“Mother and daughter!”
“That one was easy. The name of the character Su-a played!”
“Da-hui!”
“I don’t even remember this one…. What was the occupation of the character Du-il oppa played?”
“He was an elementary school physical education teacher!”
“Su-a, you’re a genius!”
The more questions I answered correctly, the tighter Mom pressed her lips together while shaking her clenched fist, and Kwon Du-il kept nodding so vigorously it looked like his neck joint had broken. Ji Su-bin and Kwon Jin-ho were covering each other’s mouths.
Oh Na-yun’s voice grew more excited than urgent. It seemed there was still plenty of time left.
It’s probably nearing the final stretch. Should I raise the tension a little?
Just then, a perfect question arrived.
“No way! How is a kid supposed to know this?!”
I could hear Oh Na-yun furiously arguing with the production team. She must have been waving the phone around; wind sounds mixed in before her half-sobbing voice returned.
“Su-a…. Didn’t I used to be an idol?”
“Huh? Senior, aren’t you still an idol?”
“Ha, that’s right. Thank you so much…. You’re the best…. But do you by any chance know my debut song…?”
“Um…”
When I pretended to think, sobbing (exaggerated for the show, but at least half genuine) and boisterous laughter poured through the speaker. “Thirty seconds left!” someone shouted.
Whoever that was, thank you.
“Hint! Don’t I get a hint?”
“Hint? It goes like this! Na~ nana~”
“Oh, I think I know it!”
“(What? How could she know that?) She might! This kid is seriously smart! Su-a, please!!”
I counted silently in my head and pretended to struggle. The people around me were screaming with their faces alone, which almost made me burst out laughing. Lee Won-seok was impatiently tapping his phone.
Searching? No need.
I dragged it out just enough, and when roughly five seconds remained on the clock, I shouted.
“Correct answer! ‘You probably don’t know what kind of heart is contained in this song, but someday I want to tell you!’”
You probably don’t know what feelings are contained in this song
But someday I want to tell you
“Gasp!”
Oh Na-yun sucked in a sharp breath and Lee Won-seok’s eyes bulged.
I knew there was still more.
“‘Chapter One’!”
“Uwaaaaak! She got it! Su-a got it right!! (This is insane, for real!! How did she know that?!)”
Oh Na-yun’s scream and the others’ astonished exclamations poured through the speaker. My ears hurt, so I pulled the phone away until things calmed down before the interview began.
“Hello, Su-a! I’m Seo Min-jae.”
“Wow, hello! Is this going on TV?”
“Huh? You didn’t know? I thought you’d realize since you were answering so perfectly!”
“Hehe. I honestly thought Senior was just playing around with her friends.”
After a brief self-introduction and some promotion for the one-act drama, Seo Min-jae asked what he had clearly been dying to know.
“But that last question. How on earth did you know it? Su-a, you weren’t even born when Na-yun debuted.”
“Oppa. I told you Su-a really likes me, didn’t I?”
“That’s right! I looked it up after hearing I’d be filming a one-act drama with Senior and became a fan. The songs were good, and watching Senior work so hard was incredibly cool.”
“(But even for a fan, how do you memorize a title that long? You probably don’t know… Ah, even I have trouble reading it.) The part about not being able to read it is just because hyung is getting old…. Ahem. Su-a, are you usually good at memorizing things?”
“Hmm~ I think it just stayed in my memory because I like Senior so much.”
“What do I do…. Su-a, I’m truly touched.”
“Whoa, that’s so sweet! Could you sing just one favorite line for us?”
The nation’s MC Seo Min-jae skillfully laid the groundwork so no one could claim someone had fed me the answers.
I immediately hummed a light rendition of Na-yun’s part—not the intro or the highlight, but her section.
“Whoa, she’s a real fan!”
“See? And that’s my part!”
“For real? This I have to acknowledge.”
After chatting like that for a while and receiving a flood of Oh Na-yun’s heartfelt thanks, the call finally ended.
I set the phone down while rubbing my now-warm ears.
Everyone was staring at me with dazed eyes. A smirk slipped out.
“Hmm? Why? Is there something on my face?”
I had solved the questions by the skin of my teeth and given a nice long interview. They say catching a solid character is what matters in variety, and I seemed to have nailed it as Na-yun’s true fan. Since it was shot for promotional purposes, I didn’t have to worry about the editing.
All in all, it felt like a rather successful variety show appearance.