5 Twinkling Watermelon Scenes That Hit Different

You know that moment when Yi-chan first sees Se-kyung through the music classroom window?

He freezes. Completely gone. Just look at Choi Hyun-wook's face.

This is what Koreans call 청순 (cheongsun).

Okay, so the literal translation is "clear" + "pure." But in English, "pure" sounds:

But in Korean culture, cheongsun is deeply positive and attractive. It means:

Cheongsun is usually used to describe women, which is why it's so remarkable that Choi Hyun-wook embodies this quality as Yi-chan.

Most male actors can't pull this off without seeming weak or childish. But Hyun-wook? He's got it.

After Se-kyung rejects Yi-chan with "You and I live in different worlds," most teenage boys would crumble.

But not Yi-chan. High self-esteem king. 👑

He shoots back: "Your life is go-dap-ha-da (고답하다)."

This is wow-level Korean wordplay:

🍠 고구마 (go-gu-ma) = sweet potato

In Korean slang, "eating 100 sweet potatoes" means feeling suffocated, stuck, frustrated—that sensation when your chest feels tight and you can't breathe properly.

So Yi-chan creates a NEW word by combining:

= 고답하다 (go-dap-ha-da) = "Your life is sweet-potato-frustrating."

What makes this brilliant? Yi-chan isn't attacking Se-kyung.

He's showing her that he sees her—he understands that her privileged life comes with its own cage.

It's empathy disguised as wordplay, wrapped in teenage bravado.

This is why Korean audiences fell in love with this character. 💔

into an asset for growth.

Yi-chan confesses to Se-kyung. Straight up. No games. No elaborate schemes.

This is what Koreans call 직진 (jik-jin)—literally "going straight."

Jik-jin means:

Remember Weak Hero? Choi Hyun-wook said about his character Ahn Suho: "He jik-jin-ed through his feelings without even knowing them."

That's 10대 (sipde)—Korean teenagers. Before life teaches them to calculate, to hedge their bets, to protect themselves.

There's something pure about jik-jin, even when it leads to heartbreak.

And look at Chung-ah in the background, watching, heartbroken. She loves Yi-chan silently, secretly—the opposite of jik-jin.

She's already learned to hide her feelings, to calculate the risk.

This is painful. This is beautiful. This is the drama showing us two different kinds of first love in a single frame. 😭

Okay, THIS is THE moment for me.

When Eun-gyeol time-slips and sees his deaf father at 18 years old, he grabs his face in shock.

And this is when I finally understood why the drama chose specifically 1995—not just "the 90s," but that exact year.

But for Koreans? 1995 represents something far more significant:

The birth of Korean indie music and youth self-expression after decades of censorship.

Let me explain. 🎸

In April 1995, Club Drug in Hongdae hosted a memorial concert for Kurt Cobain (who died in 1994).

As The Korea Times described it:

This concert became the catalyst for Korea's indie music revolution.

1995 was:

After decades of military dictatorship (which only ended in 1987), the mid-1990s represented the first generation of Korean youth who could speak, sing, and create without fear.

Crying Nut was formed in 1995 and started performing in Hongdae clubs. They introduced what they called "Joseon Punk"—not a translation of Western punk, but a uniquely Korean interpretation.

By 1996, Crying Nut released Korea's first indie rock album. In 1998, their self-titled album sold over 100,000 copies without a major label.

When Yi-chan dreams of forming a band in 1995, he's not just a teenage boy with a guitar.

He's standing at the birth of Korean indie music. At a cultural revolution. At a moment when Korean youth were saying:

"We don't need major labels. We don't need permission. We'll do it ourselves."

I think... this is why 1995. This is why it matters.

If you don't understand this historical context, you're missing half the emotional weight of the story.

Yi-chan's cheongsun energy isn't just personal charm—it's the embodiment of that brief, shining moment when Korean youth culture was being born. ✨