Inflection Point
The kids scattered in every direction like dogs that had just slipped their leashes. The set turned into complete chaos—impossible to tell if it was a filming location or a kids’ cafe. …What a shitshow.
If it was already a total mess, then anything I did would just add to the mess. While the children ran wild and destroyed the set, I quietly sat in a corner, pretending to think deeply so I could conserve my energy.
Maybe Park Si-hoo would shout “I like it even more!” and start hogging screen time. I settled into a fluffy-looking sofa, stared blankly at the photo of my uncle dressed as a clown while pretending to ponder something, and spaced out. If they slapped on a subtitle like “Yoon Seo-ah, the child, thinking hard about the hint,” it would be perfect.
“Hmm….”
Every so often I let out a sigh that sounded like I was frustrated with how things weren’t going my way, just in case anyone thought, Is that kid sleeping?
I continued staring at the sad self-portrait of my uncle, a slave to capitalism, spacing out and dozing off in short bursts. Before I knew it, only five minutes remained.
“…They’re all fake keys. I feel like we’ve checked everywhere.”
“Boss! Solve the hint for us!”
“Ugh, this is way too hard.”
The squad members were gradually getting exhausted. Park Si-hoo was starting to look visibly flustered. He seemed to be having a mental breakdown because he couldn’t figure out what the clown picture was supposed to hint at. I couldn’t blame him. Even I, with over thirty years of experience across two lifetimes, had no idea what that clown picture was hinting at. It was literally just my uncle in clown makeup…
Wait a second. My uncle?
“Found it.”
My low murmur made the VJ who had been spacing out beside me jump in surprise and quickly raise his camera. Not only the squad members who had been running around searching for the key in the remaining time, but the entire production crew turned their eyes toward me.
“The clown. That’s the AD, right?”
At those words, Kim Chul-min and the writers flinched. Did they really think I, his own niece, wouldn’t recognize him? For a broadcasting station full of notoriously vicious people, they were surprisingly soft.
I walked straight over to my uncle and started rummaging through his pockets.
“W-wait, that’s too violent—ugh, Seo-ah!”
My uncle’s weird ad-libs would probably get edited out by him personally. I ignored him and kept searching his pockets. Sure enough, the key was in the pocket of his coat. I pulled it out immediately and held it up.
“Whoaaa! It’s the key!”
“Vice-captain! As expected of the vice-captain!”
I headed straight for the golden box, inserted the key, and turned it. With a satisfying click, the box opened.
“Why are you dragging it out? So? What was inside the box?”
“That’s…”
Yoon Ji-ah, who usually showed zero interest in stories like this, was listening with unusual fascination. If she ever debuted in the entertainment industry, I could probably dangle industry gossip like bait and demand allowance money from her.
“That’s a spoiler, you idiot. If you’re so curious, you should’ve come to the set.”
At my reply, Yoon Ji-ah’s brows furrowed. Normally she would have shot back with something icy, but this time she only moved her lips slightly without saying anything else.
Too bad. I had the perfect chance to smack her legally, but I missed it.
“Our Seo-ah was so amazing. All the staff kept praising her while watching.”
Mom piled my bowl high with braised short ribs like a mountain. Dad looked at me with a warm, satisfied smile.
“Our daughter is impressive, isn’t she? The main PD said he was really impressed with how pretty and talented you are, right?”
“Aw, it was nothing. No big deal.”
I grinned with my mouth full of rice. Was this what it meant to be the eldest daughter of the house? The validation of my abilities? This warm feeling of family recognition? It felt different from the praise I’d received from the staff on set—deeper, somehow. A cozy sense of satisfaction.
At that moment, Yoon Ji-ah, who had luckily avoided getting hit and had been quietly eating, spoke up.
“So, what are you going to do about the fixed cast offer?”
There was no point hiding it. The entertainment industry’s new rising star, Yoon Seo-ah, had received an offer for a regular spot from the main PD. My performance this shoot had been so outstanding that it was impossible to downplay.
A thorn in the pocket. A crane among chickens. That was me.
“Hmm…”
I deliberately dragged it out. Everyone was clearly dying to know what I would say.
“I’ll think about it for a day.”
Dad nodded at my answer. Mom said, “Yeah, you should think it over carefully. It’s an important decision,” respecting my opinion. But Yoon Ji-ah was staring at her heavenly older sister with disrespectful eyes. Her gaze practically screamed, You’re obviously going to do it, so why play hard to get?
If she could pack that much meaning into a single look, maybe she was the one who should become an actress. It was one of the thoughts I’d had every day since she was even more of a baby than she was now.
…She really would be perfect as an actress.
That night, I lay in bed, lost in thought. Broadcasting wasn’t bad. It had been more fun than I expected. But it was also an intense battlefield that demanded every ounce of my energy. Part of me wanted to keep going a little longer… but the feeling of not wanting to, of it being too much of a hassle, felt stronger.
Creak—
As usual, Yoon Ji-ah entered without knocking. She naturally pulled out a chair, sat beside my bed, and asked bluntly.
“What are you worrying about so much?”
“A financial monster like you wouldn’t understand the worries of a humble citizen like me.”
“…Never make that kind of joke on air. Anyway, you had fun today, didn’t you? Right?”
She hit the nail on the head.
“…Hmm… I guess so.”
“When you were talking about what happened during filming earlier, your eyes were sparkling.”
Maybe twins really did share telepathy. Yoon Ji-ah sometimes saw straight through me. Had she learned mind-reading in her past life or something?
“I do want to keep going, but I’m worried about getting tied down. What if you set conditions for leaving? Kim Su-jin is leaving anyway, and they absolutely need a female MC, right? They’d probably accept any condition you throw at them.”
Yoon Ji-ah had already read the entire board from where she sat. She was like Zhuge Liang. Everything felt like it was flowing exactly as she predicted. It was as if there was a scenario already written by Yoon Ji-ah, and I was simply following it. Strangely, I didn’t mind. In fact, it felt like she was cleanly organizing the mess in my head.
“…Yeah. Let’s do it.”
I nodded. Just like she said, I could set a condition that I could leave anytime I wanted with no penalties. I’d just do it until I didn’t want to anymore.
“Smart choice. That’s the best decision you’ve made in a while.”
Cheeky little brat. Since when does a younger sister get to praise her older sister?
“Just because you’re complimenting me doesn’t mean I’ll tell you what was in the golden box!”
“I’m good. I don’t care. It was probably just some sponsored kids’ toys or snacks anyway.”
“…How did you know?”
Had she planted a spy at the broadcasting station?
The next morning, I had Mom deliver my conditions to PD Kim Chul-min. I would accept the fixed role, but I could leave anytime I wanted with absolutely no penalties. Kim Chul-min shouted “Deal!” without even a second of hesitation. And just like that, I somehow became the new fixed MC for KBC’s children’s variety show.
I had secretly been looking forward to skipping school on weekdays, but when I heard that filming usually happened on weekends because of the kids’ school schedules, I despaired for about half a second. In this half-assed way, I had become an entertainer.
What would my future look like? As I continued pondering my future, I felt a hand smack my butt.
It was 2002, an era of both romance and barbarism. Even elementary school kids enjoyed primal stimulation. They would smack girls’ chests or butts and run away, or flip up their female classmates’ skirts—pure evil behavior.
The theory that humans are inherently evil is definitely correct.
If it had been any other day, I would have grabbed the boy by the hair and given him a good smack. But I forced a smile and held back.
“Hahaha, Min-su. If you don’t want to get beaten so badly that you end up crying and begging, you should stop right now, don’t you think?”
“…W-why are you like this? Guys! Yoon Seo-ah is acting weird! The mafia wife has gone crazy!”
Given the era, smacking kids around probably wouldn’t cause any school violence controversy. Still, playing the school bully wasn’t my style.
“Someone like you, sis, isn’t really an iljin. You’re more of a clown position, aren’t you?”
“…Want me to show you what an iljin looks like? Should I put a red card in your locker?”
After chasing Min-su away, it was Yoon Ji-ah’s turn to cause trouble. If she kept acting like this, even I would turn into a thug.
I’ll hold back just for today.
I’d thought something felt off with all the provocation today. Turns out, the cafeteria was serving sweet and sour pork.
Mushroom… sweet and sour pork…?
Food heresy. Cafeteria’s ultimate betrayal. You think it’s sweet and sour pork, take a bite, and immediately spit it out because of the weird texture. A dish specialized in backstabbing pure children’s hearts. Its evil siblings included thinking it was dried pollack but getting bellflower root, or thinking it was fried chicken but getting cod.
Trembling with betrayal, I carried my tray to my seat. Across from me, Yoon Ji-ah was calmly picking up the mushroom sweet and sour pork and eating it without issue.
…She’s not human.
Once lunch time ended, the official school schedule was over too. Thank goodness. Between the shock of the mushroom sweet and sour pork and the blood sugar spike, I would have dozed through any class.
I packed my bag and left the classroom. It was a perfectly ordinary walk home—the chatter of children, the sound of balls bouncing on the playground. Everything was completely peaceful.
Until several vans pulled up right in front of me.
“What are those?”
“I heard they’re filming some drama after school today. They probably came early to set up.”
“…Why didn’t I know about this? I need to file a complaint with the school.”
Filming at school. As a student attending this very school, not knowing about such an important matter had to be the school’s administrative failure, right? But—
“It was posted on the bulletin board and they announced it during morning assembly. What would someone who falls asleep the second she sits down know?”
Yoon Ji-ah’s brutal fact-bomb made me accept it immediately.
I must have slept through it.