Every episode my heart sinks a little more. Every frame, I am reminded that it is a true story. So many victims,…
I still think its Gihwan. I think he wants to be Gibeom because everyone wants him, that is why every frame cuts to hint at Gibeom when the victims talk about the perpetrator. I think it might be inferiority complex. I think Gibeom doesnât have any motive to kill unless he is purely a perverted psychopath.
i have a sneaking suspicion since first ep that its the other brother, Gihwan. I feel like he has some inferiority complex that all the other girls are swooning over Gibeom.
Idk when JackDean ship sank for me and when ArnoldDean ship sailed from my shore. Omg why does Dean have such good chemistry with everyone. Why do I kinda want Dean to end up with Arnold. I feel bad for Tua tho đ
From the ep 7 preview i am guessing ep 8 conflict will be Dean and Jack fighting because someone sneaked a pic of Arnold and Dean being physically close. Jack is pissing me off. He keeps using the play as an excuse to be unprofessional when Dean is trying his best to be in the play and make the play popular. He really cannot separate his personal feelings from work. Dean said he will change for better, i think Jack also needs to change and get a grip.
Hear me outâŚ.. Why is the chemistry between Arnold and Dean kindaâŚ. I understand why Tua and Jack were jealous. Dean literally has chemistry with everyone lol. Also Tua is such a sweetheart and a good friend đĽş
I didnât think anyone would piss me off more than Boston, but Raffy sure is competitive.
I cannot decide which one is more intelligent, the rat in my house or Han Seol ah in her stalker/exâs house. Why would you turn your phone off and not give a heads up to anyone that you are diving head first into a trap. When you know damn well he is a stalker who might also be responsible for multiple murders? Unless you wanna frame him for all this and get away with self defence at the endâŚ.
Y'all, I think Kbeauty is actually an incel male, he has multiple accounts too
I read your comment replying to my thread. I cannot reply there because I blocked them too. They were insulting everyone who didnât agree with them without providing any valid explanation. They replied âblocking is so lameâ under my review. You canât have a real conversation with someone who just wants to attack/ âwinâ, not understand. They were insulting everyone who agreed with me, so I blocked them so that they couldnât see the threat itself.
If youâre engaging to genuinely understand and discuss, youâll notice that most of what youâre arguing against…
Your emotional reaction is absolutely valid. Disliking characters, feeling disconnected, or being frustrated by affair plots is a matter of taste. No one is obligated to feel invested in morally messy protagonists. But personal disengagement and critical evaluation are not the same thing and that distinction matters.
Saying âI didnât connect with themâ is a preference. Saying the narrative fails because you didnât connect is a judgement. Those are different claims. One describes your experience. The other evaluates the work itself. When people blur those two, they stop analysing the story and start measuring it against their comfort level.
And to be clear, I already said cheating is wrong. I felt the rage about the betrayal too. The character is not meant to be right. She is written to be flawed, compromised, and ethically messy. That is intentional. The affair is not the core message of the story, itâs one part of a character who is not morally clean.
The central focus is the scale and brutality of systemic violence. That is what the narrative keeps returning to. That is what gives everything else weight. And I addressed all of this in my review.
You donât have to root for anyone. You donât have to enjoy ambiguity. You donât have to like morally compromised characters. But a story refusing to provide emotional satisfaction is not automatically poor execution, sometimes itâs the point. Discomfort isnât always a flaw. Sometimes itâs the intended effect of the narrative design.
So yes, your disappointment is real. Your taste is valid. But a viewer feeling emotionally unsatisfied does not invalidate the thematic structure of the story. It just means the story wasnât built to meet the kind of engagement you personally prefer.
Focusing only on cheating is reductive because it shrinks a multi layered narrative into a single moral incident and ignores what the story is structurally built to examine. Cheating is part of the characterâs behaviour. Systemic violence, trauma, power, and survival are part of the storyâs framework. When viewers treat the personal betrayal as the defining issue, they replace the narrativeâs central question with a simpler moral judgement. That changes what the story is about.
When discussion fixates only on cheating, it flattens vastly different forms of harm into the same conversational weight. That doesnât mean cheating isnât wrong. It means it isnât the whole story. Focusing only on cheating distorts moral proportion and shifts attention away from broader patterns of violence the story is highlighting.
You responded under someone who called my review a âword saladâ where they didnât address a single point…
Character explanation: This argument assumes that people who experience pressure, confusion, or emotional destabilisation always behave logically and protect themselves. Thatâs simply not how human psychology works. People return to situations that hurt or confuse them all the time for closure, denial, familiarity, or because theyâre trying to regain control. Going back does not magically erase ambiguity. It often proves the opposite: that the situation was never emotionally resolved in the first place.
Youâre also treating self preservation like proof of emotional stability. It isnât. People who feel threatened socially, professionally, and psychologically often go straight into damage control. Hiding, lying, and managing fallout are survival behaviours. They donât prove someone was fine. They prove someone was trying to stop their life from collapsing. Control on the outside does not equal clarity on the inside.
More importantly, youâre collapsing separate moral questions into one. Yes, she made deliberate, unethical choices afterward. That makes her responsible for those choices. But later wrongdoing does not retroactively define the psychological nature of the earlier encounter. Human behaviour isnât one clean moral timeline where everything neatly explains everything else.
And the biggest flaw is that youâre demanding that a psychologically messy situation produce morally tidy behaviour. Real people are inconsistent. They can be competent professionals and personally self destructive. They can fight injustice publicly while making terrible private decisions. Thatâs not narrative failure, thatâs realism. This is a character explanation not a defence.
Youâre not actually disproving ambiguity or complexity. Youâre rejecting it because it doesnât fit a simple model of how people âshouldâ behave. But human beings especially damaged, conflicted, emotionally entangled ones, rarely behave in ways that make moral interpretation comfortable or convenient.
Again as I have mentioned in my review she is a complex character, cheating is unacceptable but she will face consequences. The story is not celebrating her cheating. It is a plot device. The main plot however is not cheating, it is systematic violence.
If the intention was truly to frame her as someone caught in coercion or blurred consent, then the drama completely…
You responded under someone who called my review a âword saladâ where they didnât address a single point I made or engage with any of the substance. That wasnât the only comment they made. They were leaving the worst empty remarks even in comment section, even to others. So what exactly was I supposed to do⌠thank them for contributing nothing? I replied with the same energy I received. Youâre comfortable defending someone without even having the full context, but you feel qualified to write an intense character analysis of my personality based on a single comment? That says far more about you than it does about me. Iâve been replying to all your disagreements respectfully because you challenged my review without mocking or insulting me. So I responded in the same tone. That situation was different. When you donât know the full context, itâs better not to make such extreme assumptions.
Pointing out that confidence doesnât require theatrics would land better if your entire reply wasnât⌠theatrical. You didnât dismantle anything they said, you just psychoanalysed my tone and called that an argument. Critiquing delivery is not the same as addressing substance. If the ideas were actually weak, they couldâve challenged them directly, but they did not. But it still led you to write a character review about my personality.
Also, calling something âegoâ every time someone speaks with conviction isnât insight, itâs avoidance. Disagreement isnât intimidation. And someone being certain of their interpretation doesnât mean they think everyone else is intellectually inferior. Thatâs a projection you inserted, not a claim I made.
As for the âdramatic exitâ lecture, letâs be real. Youâre not defending respectful discourse. Youâre irritated that the conversation didnât orbit around your approval. If brevity is your standard for sincerity, then maybe try applying it to your own moral grandstanding.
You say people can disagree without belittling others. True. They can also disagree without tone policing, armchair psychology, or pretending that analysing rhetoric is the same thing as refuting an argument.
You want politeness. I want precision. Those are not the same thing. If confidence makes you uneasy, thatâs your reaction to manage, not my argument to shrink.
Next time, they should address the ideas. Everything else is just performance dressed up as composure.
I strongly disagree with your framing â not because the issues you raise about violence and victimhood are unimportant,…
If youâre engaging to genuinely understand and discuss, youâll notice that most of what youâre arguing against is already addressed in my review. Youâre interpreting them differently, which is fine.
But if the goal is simply to disagree, then no explanation will land anyway. When someone has already decided what the argument must be, they stop listening to what is actually being said. At that point, the conversation isnât about understanding, itâs about defending a position. I will still clarify some points that were already there.
You keep framing this as if pointing out hypocrisy is the end of the analysis, as if noticing moral contradiction automatically settles what the story means. It doesnât. It only proves the characters are compromised. And that is not the same thing as the narrative endorsing them, excusing them, or failing because of them. Fiction can portray morally entitled professionals who break the very rules they claim to defend on purpose to show how power, credibility, and institutional authority actually function. Depicting hypocrisy is not the same as celebrating it.
And no âthe audience is just reacting to what the drama showsâ is not a complete explanation. Audiences donât passively absorb meaning like recording devices. They interpret, filter, prioritise, and moralise. What they fixate on reflects their own thresholds of outrage, not just what appears on screen. When viewers latch onto personal betrayal more than systemic harm, that is a psychological response, not a neutral reading dictated purely by the script.
Youâre right about one thing: criticism of hypocrisy is valid. Whatâs not valid is treating that reaction as definitive proof that the story has no larger thematic function or that any interpretation beyond âthese characters are corrupt, therefore the message collapsesâ is denial or excuse making.
You can criticise the characters.â¨You can dislike the portrayal.â¨But you donât get to reduce the entire narrative to the most morally obvious surface reading and then call that objectivity.
That isnât âjust reacting to what the drama shows.ââ¨Thatâs choosing the simplest interpretation and insisting itâs the only legitimate one.
You treat meaning as something produced entirely by the text. Iâm saying audience interpretation is also shaped by moral psychology. Both ideas can coexist. But your argument becomes incomplete when it treats plot focus, hypocrisy, lack of punishment, and audience reaction as fixed indicators of meaning rather than interpretations. Those are not objective rules, they are ways of reading.
You also treat plot centrality as identical to thematic centrality, and character hypocrisy as proof of narrative endorsement. Those are not the same thing. You argue that because the affair triggers major events (death, evidence tampering, obstruction) the drama is therefore about cheating. But that misunderstands how storytelling often works. Stories use personal moral failure as a catalyst to expose larger systems. The inciting event is not automatically the thematic focus. In many narratives, morally compromising actions are chosen precisely because they destabilise the protagonist enough to collide with institutional realities. That does not make infidelity the theme. It makes it the pressure point through which the theme is explored.
Your claim is that if she obstructs justice, the showâs critique of injustice loses legitimacy. That assumes a story must model moral coherence in order to critique moral systems. It doesnât. A drama can show people fighting harm while also committing harm. That is not thematic collapse, it reflects how moral authority often works in reality. Systems of justice are frequently operated by flawed, compromised, self protective individuals. Showing that contradiction does not weaken a critique of violence. It can deepen it by showing that justice is pursued through imperfect agents, moral authority is socially constructed rather than pure, institutions persist despite individual corruption, and structural violence does not disappear just because the messenger is compromised.
The uncomfortable question then becomes: can justice still exist when those enforcing it are morally inconsistent? That is a legitimate thematic inquiry, not a narrative failure. You also argue that realism requires consequences. But realism in a story isnât just about making sure everyone gets punished equally. (We actually are seeing her face the consequences, the drama is progressing that way.) In many real systems, professionals protect themselves successfully, reputation management overrides accountability, institutional competence coexists with personal misconduct, and legal victories happen alongside private wrongdoing. That is not âlogic bending.â It is selective accountability which is itself a social reality. A story showing people winning cases while hiding personal crimes may not be endorsing them. It may be depicting how power shields those who hold professional value. Absence of punishment is not always narrative favoritism. It can be structural commentary.
On ambiguity, you argue that if coercion or blurred consent were intended, the writing should have stated that clearly. But ambiguity can be deliberate. Some experiences remain psychologically unresolved even for the people involved. When a story refuses to clearly label an encounter, it may be exploring how choice and vulnerability can coexist, how people reinterpret events over time, and how moral judgement forms under uncertainty. Ambiguity invites interpretation, it does not require a single conclusion. Viewers are free to read the encounter as cheating but alternative readings are not retroactive justification simply because they exist.
So yes, criticism of the character is valid. Her actions carry moral weight. But concluding that the storyâs structural critique collapses because of her misconduct assumes that thematic legitimacy requires moral purity and that is precisely the assumption the narrative appears designed to challenge.
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Jack is pissing me off. He keeps using the play as an excuse to be unprofessional when Dean is trying his best to be in the play and make the play popular. He really cannot separate his personal feelings from work. Dean said he will change for better, i think Jack also needs to change and get a grip.
I understand why Tua and Jack were jealous. Dean literally has chemistry with everyone lol. Also Tua is such a sweetheart and a good friend đĽş
I didnât think anyone would piss me off more than Boston, but Raffy sure is competitive.
Rn my bet is on the rat.
No one is obligated to feel invested in morally messy protagonists. But personal disengagement and critical evaluation are not the same thing and that distinction matters.
Saying âI didnât connect with themâ is a preference. Saying the narrative fails because you didnât connect is a judgement. Those are different claims. One describes your experience. The other evaluates the work itself. When people blur those two, they stop analysing the story and start measuring it against their comfort level.
And to be clear, I already said cheating is wrong. I felt the rage about the betrayal too. The character is not meant to be right. She is written to be flawed, compromised, and ethically messy. That is intentional. The affair is not the core message of the story, itâs one part of a character who is not morally clean.
The central focus is the scale and brutality of systemic violence. That is what the narrative keeps returning to. That is what gives everything else weight. And I addressed all of this in my review.
You donât have to root for anyone. You donât have to enjoy ambiguity. You donât have to like morally compromised characters. But a story refusing to provide emotional satisfaction is not automatically poor execution, sometimes itâs the point. Discomfort isnât always a flaw. Sometimes itâs the intended effect of the narrative design.
So yes, your disappointment is real. Your taste is valid. But a viewer feeling emotionally unsatisfied does not invalidate the thematic structure of the story. It just means the story wasnât built to meet the kind of engagement you personally prefer.
Focusing only on cheating is reductive because it shrinks a multi layered narrative into a single moral incident and ignores what the story is structurally built to examine. Cheating is part of the characterâs behaviour. Systemic violence, trauma, power, and survival are part of the storyâs framework. When viewers treat the personal betrayal as the defining issue, they replace the narrativeâs central question with a simpler moral judgement. That changes what the story is about.
When discussion fixates only on cheating, it flattens vastly different forms of harm into the same conversational weight. That doesnât mean cheating isnât wrong. It means it isnât the whole story. Focusing only on cheating distorts moral proportion and shifts attention away from broader patterns of violence the story is highlighting.
This argument assumes that people who experience pressure, confusion, or emotional destabilisation always behave logically and protect themselves. Thatâs simply not how human psychology works. People return to situations that hurt or confuse them all the time for closure, denial, familiarity, or because theyâre trying to regain control. Going back does not magically erase ambiguity. It often proves the opposite: that the situation was never emotionally resolved in the first place.
Youâre also treating self preservation like proof of emotional stability. It isnât. People who feel threatened socially, professionally, and psychologically often go straight into damage control. Hiding, lying, and managing fallout are survival behaviours. They donât prove someone was fine. They prove someone was trying to stop their life from collapsing. Control on the outside does not equal clarity on the inside.
More importantly, youâre collapsing separate moral questions into one. Yes, she made deliberate, unethical choices afterward. That makes her responsible for those choices. But later wrongdoing does not retroactively define the psychological nature of the earlier encounter. Human behaviour isnât one clean moral timeline where everything neatly explains everything else.
And the biggest flaw is that youâre demanding that a psychologically messy situation produce morally tidy behaviour. Real people are inconsistent. They can be competent professionals and personally self destructive. They can fight injustice publicly while making terrible private decisions. Thatâs not narrative failure, thatâs realism. This is a character explanation not a defence.
Youâre not actually disproving ambiguity or complexity. Youâre rejecting it because it doesnât fit a simple model of how people âshouldâ behave. But human beings especially damaged, conflicted, emotionally entangled ones, rarely behave in ways that make moral interpretation comfortable or convenient.
Again as I have mentioned in my review she is a complex character, cheating is unacceptable but she will face consequences. The story is not celebrating her cheating. It is a plot device. The main plot however is not cheating, it is systematic violence.
Pointing out that confidence doesnât require theatrics would land better if your entire reply wasnât⌠theatrical. You didnât dismantle anything they said, you just psychoanalysed my tone and called that an argument. Critiquing delivery is not the same as addressing substance. If the ideas were actually weak, they couldâve challenged them directly, but they did not. But it still led you to write a character review about my personality.
Also, calling something âegoâ every time someone speaks with conviction isnât insight, itâs avoidance. Disagreement isnât intimidation. And someone being certain of their interpretation doesnât mean they think everyone else is intellectually inferior.
Thatâs a projection you inserted, not a claim I made.
As for the âdramatic exitâ lecture, letâs be real. Youâre not defending respectful discourse. Youâre irritated that the conversation didnât orbit around your approval. If brevity is your standard for sincerity, then maybe try applying it to your own moral grandstanding.
You say people can disagree without belittling others. True. They can also disagree without tone policing, armchair psychology, or pretending that analysing rhetoric is the same thing as refuting an argument.
You want politeness. I want precision. Those are not the same thing. If confidence makes you uneasy, thatâs your reaction to manage, not my argument to shrink.
Next time, they should address the ideas. Everything else is just performance dressed up as composure.
But if the goal is simply to disagree, then no explanation will land anyway. When someone has already decided what the argument must be, they stop listening to what is actually being said. At that point, the conversation isnât about understanding, itâs about defending a position. I will still clarify some points that were already there.
You keep framing this as if pointing out hypocrisy is the end of the analysis, as if noticing moral contradiction automatically settles what the story means. It doesnât. It only proves the characters are compromised. And that is not the same thing as the narrative endorsing them, excusing them, or failing because of them. Fiction can portray morally entitled professionals who break the very rules they claim to defend on purpose to show how power, credibility, and institutional authority actually function. Depicting hypocrisy is not the same as celebrating it.
And no âthe audience is just reacting to what the drama showsâ is not a complete explanation. Audiences donât passively absorb meaning like recording devices. They interpret, filter, prioritise, and moralise. What they fixate on reflects their own thresholds of outrage, not just what appears on screen. When viewers latch onto personal betrayal more than systemic harm, that is a psychological response, not a neutral reading dictated purely by the script.
Youâre right about one thing: criticism of hypocrisy is valid. Whatâs not valid is treating that reaction as definitive proof that the story has no larger thematic function or that any interpretation beyond âthese characters are corrupt, therefore the message collapsesâ is denial or excuse making.
You can criticise the characters.â¨You can dislike the portrayal.â¨But you donât get to reduce the entire narrative to the most morally obvious surface reading and then call that objectivity.
That isnât âjust reacting to what the drama shows.ââ¨Thatâs choosing the simplest interpretation and insisting itâs the only legitimate one.
You treat meaning as something produced entirely by the text. Iâm saying audience interpretation is also shaped by moral psychology. Both ideas can coexist. But your argument becomes incomplete when it treats plot focus, hypocrisy, lack of punishment, and audience reaction as fixed indicators of meaning rather than interpretations. Those are not objective rules, they are ways of reading.
You also treat plot centrality as identical to thematic centrality, and character hypocrisy as proof of narrative endorsement. Those are not the same thing. You argue that because the affair triggers major events (death, evidence tampering, obstruction) the drama is therefore about cheating. But that misunderstands how storytelling often works. Stories use personal moral failure as a catalyst to expose larger systems. The inciting event is not automatically the thematic focus. In many narratives, morally compromising actions are chosen precisely because they destabilise the protagonist enough to collide with institutional realities. That does not make infidelity the theme. It makes it the pressure point through which the theme is explored.
Your claim is that if she obstructs justice, the showâs critique of injustice loses legitimacy. That assumes a story must model moral coherence in order to critique moral systems. It doesnât. A drama can show people fighting harm while also committing harm. That is not thematic collapse, it reflects how moral authority often works in reality. Systems of justice are frequently operated by flawed, compromised, self protective individuals. Showing that contradiction does not weaken a critique of violence. It can deepen it by showing that justice is pursued through imperfect agents, moral authority is socially constructed rather than pure, institutions persist despite individual corruption, and structural violence does not disappear just because the messenger is compromised.
The uncomfortable question then becomes: can justice still exist when those enforcing it are morally inconsistent? That is a legitimate thematic inquiry, not a narrative failure. You also argue that realism requires consequences. But realism in a story isnât just about making sure everyone gets punished equally. (We actually are seeing her face the consequences, the drama is progressing that way.) In many real systems, professionals protect themselves successfully, reputation management overrides accountability, institutional competence coexists with personal misconduct, and legal victories happen alongside private wrongdoing. That is not âlogic bending.â It is selective accountability which is itself a social reality. A story showing people winning cases while hiding personal crimes may not be endorsing them. It may be depicting how power shields those who hold professional value. Absence of punishment is not always narrative favoritism. It can be structural commentary.
On ambiguity, you argue that if coercion or blurred consent were intended, the writing should have stated that clearly. But ambiguity can be deliberate. Some experiences remain psychologically unresolved even for the people involved. When a story refuses to clearly label an encounter, it may be exploring how choice and vulnerability can coexist, how people reinterpret events over time, and how moral judgement forms under uncertainty. Ambiguity invites interpretation, it does not require a single conclusion. Viewers are free to read the encounter as cheating but alternative readings are not retroactive justification simply because they exist.
So yes, criticism of the character is valid. Her actions carry moral weight. But concluding that the storyâs structural critique collapses because of her misconduct assumes that thematic legitimacy requires moral purity and that is precisely the assumption the narrative appears designed to challenge.