First scene, first episode. I should have fallen, but I did not.
[I stole all gifs from http://ericmun.tumblr.com http://kdramastuff.tumblr.com and weibo. Thank you OP!!! ]
He is a sound engineer/director, working on a scene of a woman running; she steps out of the cafe. A sudden twist of wind takes flight, prompting her to run, escaping from precarious in the sweetest glow. I thought (and I am beyond wrong) it was pretentious juxtaposition of hammering the tiresome fated to be, our OTP.
In Her Shoes:
making the noise of her strides.
He loads the gun. He turns the wheel.
He spurns the sound of the gust, suddenly sweeping up her life.
As if it hits her, she turns.
Fate takes a turn she can not run away.
She runs, he runs as her, towards her, a visual.
He thought he could cut it off…
drowning in exhaustion, in work.
Scene ends, it is ‘ok’.
No end, she wanders on, breath lost, is lost.
‘…as if abandoned by the universe.’
This is one I set my mind surely to watch as shallowly as my drools and heart desires for ERIC, did not check out any of the crew, knowing nothing of writer (which a Dearie told me was on the writer team gifting world the loveliest I Live in CheongDamDong! ), never seen our leading actress, did not gel with PD’s last romance outing, thought it was a bit trying too hard forced… and this still creeps in, intangible things swell and bloom, I am literally feeling constant lil lovebursts somewhere in my middle, as gross as it sounds.
I am this very moment so madly in love with OHYD. I stopped reading any synopsis a few words in when this popped up in the works, 2 girls with the same name, mixed up, swirling around an Eric, yeah to be crude call me when it’s 16 hours of nikkid threesome romping. After spending 4 hours with it, with good minutes total of nikkid Eric, I did not get past this initial minute, declaring this beginning above is the most beautifully mesmerizingly crafted I have seen, I gushed to myself the entire day. I ended up uploading it to YT instead of lunching to be lost in it on my phone constantly. My falling is typical. I presumed elements bugging me slightly as I feel this out, as ominous flags of drama fails, I thought I see hesitation in Eric’s attempt, as if he is rusty, taking him half a second every scene to warm up, realizing where his character belongs, a bit too much dazed and withdrawn. Rationally, Mr Eric Mun will never be the top seer in acting magiccraft, but he has a connection with his characters and expresses their human feelings I can’t escape even when techniques are not sharpest and he throws in those notty lil twinkles and raises his lustrous lips a fraction too close to a hot smug smirk beyond his control. Aside from what his naturally distracting yum face, he invites me stepping into his character’s shoes, esp the vulnerability. I could leisurely sit back and swoon at his charms with my ERICdroolzbucket, I could, but he is also serving me a character with nothing much to do with the glossy package. It was after episode4 rewatches, as I chill from my batshitcraze, my own heartbeat quiets down slightly that I realize Park DoHyung is not tagged with the obvious drop dead gorg suave pompous prowling male smex on legs leadernim of The Legends aka SHINHWA. i only see PDH as simply a guy coping with a constant heartbreak, always devastating, debilitating him somewhat he thought he has at least hidden it well from sight. It is hit from blindside inexplicable, and PDH decidedly holing himself as much as he could in his cocoon, may it be old childhood home filled with his most precious possession, I assume: recordings of white noise, for drowning in his work, he would tell you. OST is lovely and what a sweetest vacay for my ears after the nauseating ordeal post some C trendy. STILL, music is overplayed, could get on my nerves sooo cheery sooo loud soo hyper it is creepy, comedic turns inserted with which I am kinda confused if I should add light and hilarious to description of drama as gut is again lazily assuming this is overboard instantaneously in the first ep or so settling in. I should be settling in. Instead I nitpick little compartmentalized pieces, of the white noise I thought was nothing special, he flashes back his ex saying she loves his heartbeat, cliche, I swiftly categorized. But lil quirks of his job hazard, so attuned, hypersensitive to every deviation, vibration, be it a heartbeat, his own heartbeat… hours he perhaps mauled over the tapes prior and post, quantifying what went foul, in life, he missed. More likely the drill of droning of the day to day mundane is a soothing hypnosis he has a new habit, a new normal of white noise in his life… without her.
Next thing I know, I am in love. There are these tugs of deja vu all along. HaeYoung reminds me of Minami who knows how to chill more from Long Vacation. That heartbreaking gorgeous sunset cafe she sat on the ‘date’ was one HyunBin, still mostly known as Samshik, did an interview, a pictorial post MNIKSS… This is a first K-roco giving me serious deja vu, and please let Miss Seo receive my beaming of highest compliment: her OHY is the newer, better, less obtrusive Samsoonie. I was so in love then everything is etched in my brain and it is a sweetest thing while enjoying a current drama, that rush of falling for a classic is revisited…like white noise coloring the background for the experience if just for me. Lil snags I thought could be better, evaporate because of many murmurs, interference of feelings swaddled under subtle perceptive writing, pulsating my heart to swell, to flutter, and swell some more: over a hug, a suggestion of hug, an entrance of Eric’s Park abandoning his safe distance, flopping into room and twitchy, fidgeting with his pants, his hands, a bowl of jajangmyeon, they eat together, plain noodles at some stall, a gesture with shoes out of kindness (and guilt), his visual becomes happy pick-me-ups for her, she becomes a foreboding vision he thought is clinically a smoking gun he is losing his mind… he cant have any delusion of happy, together, with her…how boring for his shrink, who perks up only when he sniffs this is just the normal crazy of his patient perhaps having an upward turn, able to have, and embrace… normal-est feelings we call love. This has no convoluted plot, nothing is more complicated than some misunderstandings. It marvels in caveats of drama white noise filling the background, these characters lusciously full. At the center are two characters hit with a sad blow in love and now pulling themselves up but not quite no matter how drastic for her or time consuming for him, too worn to gather the pieces of their broken heart esp when they deflate alone and let the loneliness devour. Surrounding them are so many dear ones, gingerly, tentatively caring for them in all their slightly crooked ways, reflecting on how precious these discarded plain souls are. Since writer has Eric to work with he could do some meh irrational selfish possibly life ruining decisions, loathed with guilt he thought he would bring to his grave and we forgive him, hopefully heroine too, eventually. Yes there is manpain and when shite hits fan we are promised MORE, lest we forget ERIC+manpain = ERICTIC, erotic+erratic heartbeats.
OH ERIC ERIC ERIC. I can’t be the only perv preoccupied with thoughts he is hot in red heels, sweating, panting, laboring, some visible angst in eyes when his character is focused on nothing but his job on hand: producing every sound to the visual, breathing life to a scene, a character, a snippet of a movie, frames of life, filling silence with emotions, emotions expressed as sound or hush in an otherwise audio void surrounding a fictional character…or an ominous synchronization of two humans wearing an impalpable broken heart. In pouring feelings and sweat over a fictional character on a flat screen, he must’ve hoped he could feel/sweat/pant/exhaust again as some ghost of a normal man.
We have met and loved and cheered on characters so similarly commiserable over and over again. Ordinary folks dumped by some ex, feeling lesser than whole. They are grieving, they are disintegrating and it is a tiring daily chore to fake a human whole, dealt what felt like an earth shattering emotional blow, but it was only one of many hard falls they must pull themselves up, function broken, with a bleeding gaping hole within. They will be preoccupied with being normal, we all do, willing life back to used to be, when loneliness creeps up, seeps in, we take every cue to cry, sweat a hopeless hope of flushing some pain out of system. Loneliness for a sound director must be such deafening silence, so overwhelming every tremble is the sound of loss, he could hear his own heartbeat, it could trigger sweet nothings she used to say to him, beating of his heart, oblivious signs to ‘normal’ human beings of being alive…was her favorite thing, she said, once. Every thump is an acute physical blow of an emotional pain. He might have cope with sensitizing his keen ears to everything mundane other than hurt thumping, loneliness, longing, grieving categorized moment by moment by random, collective occurrence of unrelated things in patterns, static of day after day, tape after tape, on a towering shelf he uses as a partition of solitude to close off intrusion, a woman with that name. A shelf, his library of hissing white noises of all the exact spot and time…she is out of his life. Yet a mention of ‘Oh Hae Young’, all is uncontrollably futile, even if it concerns a stranger with the same commonest name.
For some, we blast the music, tango alone, tiring our body to a stasis, trying to physically occupy the space he/she has left, so void.
Better yet, dance like nobody’s watching and your lovely Mother joins you without a word even though she is sure and worried sick you are losing your mind:
White noise, meaningless and distracting commotion, sounds of every various audible frequency for humans with equal intensities, constant, haphazard, as objects, petals, tears, our physical bodies, relinquish or collide.
A random stranger, she thought, a white noise in visual, a random flicker superimposed in her frame, interference of intrusion, like’snow’ on the tv screen cautioning the picture, her picture is not exactly perfect. These never ceasing petals in a K romance, falling distractions involuntarily picked up by her radar, marking a moment past as a human being she should inhale, and exhale and OHY ceases the moment, let pain come and go a petal, an exhale/inhale at a time letting out her heartbreak, audible words opened up at the company of this man she will surely never see again, she thought.
Life goes on for her as we fall surreptitiously in love little by little with this young lady, like what this drama is doing to me. What is refreshing about Miss ‘plain jane’ Oh Hae Young is she is her own individual, with her own head she makes up of her life, her situation, her misery, however ordinary, do not diminish that faith she has in herself she is perfectly ok in her shoes, going to be ok eventually…with moments she is not ok, now. She admires the beauty of the world, or others without questioning her own.
Life can throw her lemons, lots, it has before, hits her blows big and small, honing her a master at pulling herself up after the fall, or lay down to pander her highschool world with a student body of 99.99% douches aside from her their prejudice she is the inferior OHY against the sparkling golden too good she is unreal Miss Pretty Oh Hae Young. ( I do not know enough to hate the Miss POHY *ok I see acronym subliminally as phony as well XD* off bat because personally a bff shares my name and I am the plainer one, witnessing life could be unimaginably cruel by her side, with the emotional silent chides out of darkest pits of jealousy towards the objectifiable easy target few care to know more than skindeep). Life has not been fair to her, but she always shrugs life has never been fair to nobody, she has never been makjang tragic, not when you have this lovely observant sense of self with a level mind, a generous soul she uses quite often… she does not transfer hate nor blame nor take pity for granted just because she is the receiving end of endless little travesties of injustices. When she is fed up wearing sense always, she shuts herself off, downs her chips drinks her beer excessively as RL is a tiresome bi8ch, wisely precise with her place in world. She is not extraordinary special in any way, maybe that is what her folks is blessing her with a name like plain Jane and she stays under the radar building her existence she can be whatever SHE wants to be confident in, aspires to be the best normal she could, quite pragmatic. Even though highschool was not rosy living under the shadow of the pretty Jane, it did not break her, late blooming as life moves on to college, to workplace. She works well enough with her coworkers and is quite likable except her tigressBoss picks on her senselessly whenever and she fights back in brute honest jabs without crossing over to tactlessly committing career suicide. She is in love with a lovely husband to be, a great catch the envy of all the hood’s ahjummas, one day short of making it official. Her family lives comfortably enough, she is the only (a tad spoiled because she can) daughter of parents loving her their slightly awkward unspoken way…like kicking her out of house when they can not bear seeing her even a moment more trying to fake normal with a broken heart unable to heal under all the prying judging eyes and stress, under circumstances they blame her but embracing, protecting her the best, knowing her eccentricities and insecurities, safeguarding the front, all dynamics of normal…most importantly they let her be, if she will be better hitting a bottom alone, they give her the shove. They let themselves be what they are, be it throwing her frozen ox bone to snap her some senses out of rage, love, so unconditionally, like all sweet parents do.
But life is being extraordinarily unfair to her, when it rains, it pours, being dumped at the curb a step from the alter, certifiably huge a heartbreak, is followed by little hits of badluck she is keeping tabs, just that whimpering her woes is not her style, nor any enjoyment of getting her folks more worried with all those visible bruises on top of the heartbreak going on within when she is almost convincing herself she is ok.
Actually it erodes on her, trying to fit in life is ok, whatever little cheers and encouragements we see her picking herself up as if unfazed does not reach that shattering blow to her heart… she is unconsciously letting that empowerment of being her own cheerleader slipping away. That faith in she is a lady worthy to be cherished and should never just give up on herself, he reminds her with not so many words and a lot of awkward. Those shoes are constant visual reminder of this man doing a random act of kindness towards her she has forgotten: to be kindest and caring to herself.
Under this shell of her normal brazen, honest, dorky, quite fearless self, she is a rattling ragdoll holding together barely, utter devastation could abruptly break her as she walks down the road, those darn fluffy petals exacerbating how hard it is to muster all control not to burst out crying just because it is a beautiful spring day and the normal is to bask in happy. Instead she is in constant gradients of down: she will jaywalk yes wishing a car would hit and kill her, but pragmatically knowing just her ‘luck’ she is invincibly safe, her wishes never come true…he will never be back, that exultation of being in love, where one does not feel the need to eat, drink being so consumed she still believes in, being the best joy in life. She will pick the wallet up for a random stranger because her life is, frankly, not worth more.
She is braving on, even in a lie she cherish her pride in, she knows she is due a break, many breaks. She got some and she is a woman that would borrow some luck, some strength, some happy thoughts conveniently if she feels like hitting him, patting that hair, physically connecting with another miserable soul.
*oh Horsey, yes you are precious and majestic but it is unkind to gloat at the camera you are one luckiest thing this moment*
It has been a year he has been dumped at his wedding banquet. He said he never smiles when she spells it out he is wearing his grief on his sleeves, his whole being is surrounded by white noise of relentless misery. He thought he is the only one hearing the deafening bottomless hum of his broken heart, breaking still just by a woman sharing her name. Cause and effect, he changed her fate by a vengeful misunderstanding. She is now rippling his life, this boding vision he is responsible of spinning the wheel. She is a constant in his new white noise.
It makes me want to give you a hug.
The power of strangers dwelling in unspeakable misery is it dulls the pain as if cutting that same intense hurt in half. In vulnerability, the human nature to care and concern is amplified in earnest actions and words. There is no leisure of coy, nor game, just a fellowship of a gentler understanding much more readily embraced. You do know know that painful solitude left you any room to feel anything but. You take a moment to be kinder because you are vulnerable, you crave it yourself to break that hiss of loneliness. He lets his heart out throwing a compliment, explaining his feelings more than he should, to stop her heart from fluttering, he says, which does the opposite. She slurps the rest of her noodles loudest, speaking out she is flustered… he could have heard those butterflies he put in her, she is well aware. She hears every thump, every sound he is scrambling behind her.
A moment PDH is perfectly aware he is losing the fight. It could be a slip of his tongue, a spur of a moment he wants to comfort her out of mostly guilt saying she is pretty when she is eating. ‘Do not flutter for me’ he said to her. ‘do not flutter for her.’ he preached himself. But this, his action keeps contradicting his words, it is following his heart…her. She walks off, dragging her feet a little. She smiles to herself as he follows, keeping her company in that safe distance, their organic cadence, her moor from drowning in loneliness…just like she did to him without enough caution for herself, a single woman, unaware she is opening her arms, letting him in, generously sharing her space with a very lonely man. Heart breaks, but what does one do with the aftermath of white noise of pitiful misery?! With the intangible fluttering he percussed, the effect of stirred feelings caused by random, genuine sweetness from a stranger she did not wish upon?! She smiles as she seizes the chance, bumps upon this new arsenal, her new company of happy thoughts.
‘… you need a hug.’
I need a hug.
Unraveling me. She told me to stop wallowing. Her heart beats against mine, a duet.
… The sound of sunshine coming in.
“Let’s be happy, together.”
♪ Everybody’s going home to be with their someone ♪
♪ And we decided to stay here to be with each other and kiss ♪