Driving Force
I headed over to the viewer bulletin board. People always say you shouldn't check the internet at times like this, but I'm not some pathetic weakling who gets demoralized by a flood of jealous, envious hate comments.
Fortunately, most of the posts were packed with praise for me. The corners of my mouth curved up on their own, and before I knew it I was bouncing my legs restlessly.
“…Hey. Take it easy.”
“Wow… how did you know?”
Only a crazy person would write something like that. Yoon Ji-ah is a financial monster. Therefore, this post was written by Yoon Ji-ah. Perfect syllogism. I had identified the culprit behind the post.
“In this era’s entertainment scene, you’re the only one who could pull off something like viral marketing.”
I shot Yoon Ji-ah a glare. Instead of looking embarrassed at getting caught, she nodded with an expression that practically screamed aren’t I amazing for hyping you up? Annoying as hell.
“It would have been better if you’d framed it as ‘providing fact-based information’ instead of viral marketing. Still, pass.”
“What do you mean, pass? I’ll kill you.”
“This is all part of raising your market value, so be grateful.”
“Yeah, yeah, thank you so much. I’m so grateful I could cry.”
“Speaking of which, can you pull off a crying scene?”
“…I don’t know. Never tried.”
“Practice it ahead of time.”
Is this even a conversation?
I shook my head and collapsed onto the sofa. The explosive reaction after the drama aired, plus Yoon Ji-ah’s meticulous behind-the-scenes—no, outright in-your-face—manipulation. Everything was proceeding smoothly.
The next morning, the atmosphere on the way to school felt distinctly different.
“…Are those reporters? That’s a reporter, right?”
“Anyone can tell they’re reporters.”
Yoon Ji-ah and I watched them with wary eyes. It was 2025—a time when ninety-nine percent of reporters deserved every bit of criticism they got. They justified breaking into homes under the name of press freedom and violated privacy in the name of the public’s right to know. They wrote articles worse than hate comments, then pretended not to know anything when things blew up. A profession where only view counts and ad revenue determined truth.
But these were reporters from 2002? More than half of them were probably thugs who trampled on human rights. If they acted like that even in 2025 when people actually cared about rights, what on earth were they like in this romantic era…?
Yoon Ji-ah’s viral post had worked far too well. Reporters had camped out in front of Cheongdam Elementary. They stood at the school gate, glancing back and forth between the inside and outside, waiting.
Aren’t you all busy with the World Cup? Don’t entertainment reporters have anything better to do? Why are you all losing your minds over one elementary kid?
“Of all days, it had to be today. If Mom had driven us, we could’ve just blown past the gate.”
“They would’ve stopped the car at the gate.”
“…No way.”
“You’re underestimating reporters.”
Even in the prestigious Gangnam 8th school district, even at the top-tier Cheongdam Elementary, they’d try something like that? I thought that for a second—then shuddered when I saw the vice principal’s car stop right in front of the gate.
These people aren’t human…
I witnessed them grabbing students who were happily walking to school, forcing interviews on them, or clutching their sleeves so they couldn’t get away. If even one or two of those kids told their parents, these reporters’ careers would be over. Was this the influence of The Garden Where Love Blooms? Or was it the professional spirit of these reporters? Just what were journalists in this era?
“There’s Yoon Seo-ah!”
Maybe I’d been watching too long. At someone’s shout, the reporters swarmed toward us. There was no time to run. Flashes popped like fireworks and microphones thrust toward my face.
“Yoon Seo-ah! The drama’s reaction is explosive—what are your thoughts?”
“Is your real personality the same as Bom-i’s?”
“I heard your appearance fee is a thousand per episode—is that true?”
“…Who’s that next to her? There are two Yoon Seo-ahs? No way those looks mean they’re twins? Are they androids?!”
“Who’s your mom!”
The questions poured out. Or rather, they were closer to delusional ramblings. The camera lenses shoved right in front of my eyes felt incredibly threatening. This wasn’t reporting—it was violence.
“Move! We refuse to be interviewed!” Yoon Ji-ah shouted, standing in front of me. She tried to push the adults away with her small body, but it was no use. An eight-year-old kid couldn’t overpower a grown man.
One reporter roughly shoved Yoon Ji-ah’s shoulder. She staggered, nearly falling.
…This bastard dares to push my sister?
With a terrified expression on my face, I stared at the reporter with icy eyes. Brute force wouldn’t work anyway. Even if I threw a full-power punch, it would only sting a little. So the best I could do was—
“Hic… Mister… please don’t hit my sister… hic…”
I gazed at him with the most pitiful, heart-wrenching expression I could muster, right on the verge of tears. The moment my voice trembled, the area fell silent. Even the reporters looked like they’d realized they’d gone too far.
While they faltered, thrown off by my sudden crying act, a heavy engine sound came from behind us. A large black sedan—the same model as Kang Tae-hyun’s car from The Garden Where Love Blooms. The car stopped with a screech. A big man in a suit got out of the driver’s seat and opened the rear door.
The person who stepped out was an elegant lady wearing a tweed jacket and sunglasses.
“Chief Kim.”
At her quiet call, the man from the driver’s seat and the men from the following car moved in perfect sync. They wedged themselves between the reporters and us, using their bodies as shields.
“Wh-what the— who are you people? Gangsters?!”
The reporters spat out words, but the men didn’t even blink. No matter how much they were pushed, they didn’t budge an inch.
“This is a school route for children. Please step aside.”
“Have you received permission to report here? Please leave.”
Firm, polite, yet overwhelmingly intimidating. They were a steel wall. Once the men had taken position, the elegant lady from earlier walked forward with crisp clicks of her heels. She took off her sunglasses and looked at me.
“Hello, Seo-ah.”
“Oh, hello, Min-su’s mother.”
It was Min-su’s mom, the one I’d seen at the entrance ceremony. She ran a large hospital, apparently… but looking at her now, she seemed more like the wife of a chaebol family. Whatever the case, she was currently the best card I could play.
I sniffled and stuck close to Min-su’s mom. Yoon Ji-ah naturally followed, reading the room. When things got like this, hiding in the shadow of power was the best move.
Min-su’s mom turned to the reporters. She didn’t yell or lose her temper. She simply furrowed her brow slightly, as if looking at something filthy.
“Which company do you all belong to?”
Her voice was gentle, yet chilling. The reporters looked even more flustered than when the bodyguards had stepped in. Her aura was on another level. They seemed to realize that saying the wrong thing could end them.
“Ah, no, we were just here to cover—”
There was no way they didn’t know what kind of parents attended this school, or how far their influence reached.
“Covering the news? By forcibly grabbing children on their way to school? If you want to interview students, send an official request to the school. If you show up in front of the school one more time and act recklessly, we will respond through our legal team.”
Woman power. Pure sex appeal. Now I understood why Yoon Ji-ah had shed blood, sweat, and tears to get us into the Gangnam 8th district.
“Chief Kim, let’s take the children inside.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The entourage escorted us through the school gate. The reporters couldn’t follow; they simply stood there, stunned and helpless.
Once we were inside the gate, Min-su’s mom took off her sunglasses and smiled softly.
“You two must have been really scared. I’ll tell the school to strengthen security even more.”
“Thank you. You were really cool just now.”
“Your acting in the drama was even cooler. Both of you should come play with Min-su sometime. I’ll make something delicious.”
“Yes! Thank you!”
She waved elegantly and walked ahead. It felt like she was disappearing on purpose so we wouldn’t feel burdened, yet she naturally set up a follow-up invitation. So this was the Gangnam 8th district? This was the taste of power? This was the power of school and regional connections?
“See? Power really is the best, right?”
“I admit it. I got a little excited back there.”
“That lady is at the very top among the first-grade parents. If you stay on her good side, a lot of good things will come your way.”
Min-su. My snot-nosed deskmate Min-su. The kid who used to be the easiest to push around in class turned out to be the strongest one. The world really is unpredictable.
On the way to the classroom, I ran into Kim Su-jin on the stairs.
“…Was that you getting mobbed at the gate just now?”
“Ah, yes. The reporters went crazy.”
“You should start looking for an agency soon. You won’t be able to go anywhere alone anymore. You can’t rely on your parents forever.”
She pressed a note into my hand. It had a phone number on it.
“Save it. Only call if it’s urgent. If you call for no reason, I’ll block you.”
Then she coolly turned and headed down the stairs. Wait, weren’t you going up the stairs just now? The sixth-grade classrooms are upstairs?
I stared down the stairs where Kim Su-jin had disappeared for a moment, then met Yoon Ji-ah’s eyes.
“Did you see that? She’s my dark lady.”
“What are you talking about? It’s dark rose, obviously.”
The environment surrounding me was changing rapidly. Only now was I truly starting to feel that I had become an entertainer.
When I entered the classroom, the kids would probably bombard me with questions. I took a deep breath and opened the classroom door.
For a moment the room fell silent, and all eyes turned to me.
Was it finally starting?
The moment my eyes met Min-su’s—
“Whoa! It’s the mafia wife!”
“…Want to die?”
My deskmate Min-su’s cheeky comment reached my ears, but after seeing his mother at the gate earlier, I couldn’t bring myself to give him a massage.
“Anyone want Apollo and Chocopie? I brought some!”
“Did you watch Pocket Monster yesterday?”
“What’s for lunch today?”
“Ji-ah! Let’s play baduk during break!”
“Min-su! You brought your game cards, right? I’m winning them all today!”
“Enjoy that fantasy.”
Surprisingly, nothing happened. It was just an ordinary day in Class 3 of Cheongdam Elementary’s first grade. It looked like being worshipped as the queen of the classroom was impossible in this life.
…Should I appear in a movie? Or maybe a major variety show?
For some reason, it sparked a competitive fire in me. I wanted to make these brats treat me like the celebrity Yoon Seo-ah.
Variety, dramas, movies—I’ll do them all. Once my face is on TV no matter what channel you turn to, things will be different.
Who would have thought that my driving force in the entertainment industry would turn out to be these snot-nosed little kids?