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This review may contain spoilers
He Saved Everyone, But Who Saves Him?
Twinkling Watermelon begins with a premise that already sounds like a recipe for emotional chaos in the best possible way. In 2023, high school student Ha Eun Gyeol lives a double life. By day he is the perfect model student, but by night he secretly plays guitar and pursues his love for music. As a CODA, a child of deaf adults, Eun Gyeol grows up in a family where both his parents and his older brother cannot hear. He becomes the bridge between their silent world and the noisy outside world.
One day, after discovering a mysterious music store, Eun Gyeol is suddenly transported back to 1995. There he meets his father, Ha Yi Chan, who is still a lively high school student. The problem is that Yi Chan does not recognize him and is currently infatuated with a cellist named Choi Se Gyeong instead of Eun Gyeol’s future mother, Yun Cheong A. Determined to restore the timeline and bring his parents together, Eun Gyeol joins Yi Chan’s band while trying to guide fate back onto its original path.
One of the things that touched me the most about this drama is Eun Gyeol himself. He is not just a good son. He is genuinely a good person. Growing up with deaf parents and a deaf older brother never made him resent the world or feel like his life was unfair. Instead, he accepts it with a maturity that is honestly heartbreaking at times. There is a moment where he says that if he does something wrong, people will criticize his parents twice as harshly. That line alone shows the weight he carries on his shoulders. Being the only hearing person in his family means he constantly connects their quiet world with the loud outside one. He translates conversations, helps his brother with Taekwondo practice, and quietly takes on responsibilities most kids his age would never imagine.
The end of the first episode introduces young Yi Chan, played by Choi Hyun Wook, and even though I already saw clips of the drama before watching it, that moment still made me excited to see where the story would go. Choi Hyun Wook did such a charming and entertaining performance as young Yi Chan. As expected, Choi Hyun Wook is able to bring out Yi Chan’s lively, fun, and kind side.
Of course, not everything is perfect. Episode four had a small logic slip that made me pause. Eun Gyeol has lived his entire life with a deaf family, yet when he wakes up at the guesthouse in 1995 he casually mumbles “Mom, give me water.” Realistically, that kind of habit should not exist because his mother would not hear him anyway. It is a tiny moment, but it felt like clumsy writing in an otherwise thoughtful show.
As the story moves forward, the time travel shenanigans get more interesting. When Eun Gyeol first meets Se Gyeong, the slow motion moment made me worried the drama was about to throw a love triangle at us. Thankfully, the story quickly reveals a twist. The short haired “Se Gyeong” is actually On Eun Yu, Se Gyeong’s daughter from 2023 who also time travels back to 1995. I suspected this early on because the real Se Gyeong’s daughter in the present timeline was never shown. Same face, totally different personality, and the way she knew the house so well were all big hints.
The show also uses a fun narrative technique where several episodes begin with different characters narrating their own stories. We hear from Eun Gyeol, Yi Chan, Se Gyeong, Cheong A, and later Eun Yu. These narrations help us understand each character from their own perspective rather than through someone else’s interpretation.
Musically, the drama has its charming moments too. I loved that the show used Ditto by NewJeans to symbolize Eun Gyeol’s connection to the present day. As a Bunny myself, hearing that song appear made me ridiculously happy.
The emotional core of the drama, however, always circles back to Eun Gyeol. The more episodes I watched, the more sympathy I felt for him. Ryeo Un delivers such a heartfelt performance that it is impossible not to feel for this character. Acting emotional scenes is already difficult, but doing it while also performing sign language convincingly adds another layer of complexity. He absolutely nailed it.
One of the most powerful moments happens in episode eleven when Eun Gyeol finally tells Yi Chan that he is from the future. For the first time, he admits how lonely he feels. All his life he has tried to be the cheerful son who takes care of everyone, but underneath that smile is a boy who feels isolated in a world his family cannot hear. When he hugs Yi Chan and cries, I cried with him. That scene felt like years of suppressed emotions finally spilling out.
Another relationship that I loved is between Cheong A and her father. Their bond is not perfect, but it is sincere. Watching him try to connect with his daughter by hiring Eun Gyeol to teach her sign language was incredibly sweet. The way his expression softens whenever Cheong A smiles at him is one of those small details that quietly warms your heart.
Episode fourteen might be the most emotional episode of the series. The scene where Cheong A teaches Yi Chan how to say names in sign language is beautifully filmed, with soft lighting that makes her look almost like a portrait. Yi Chan looking at her with those gentle eyes before kissing her is innocent and sweet. But the episode also delivers heartbreaking moments, especially when Eun Gyeol finds his mother locked in a room by her cruel stepmother. Watching him realize how much pain his parents went through when they were young is devastating. Sometimes as children we think our struggles are the hardest, only to realize later that our parents carried burdens we never saw.
Episode fifteen breaks the heart once again. Despite all his efforts, Eun Gyeol cannot prevent the accident that causes Yi Chan to lose his hearing. What makes it even more painful is that Yi Chan gets injured while saving Eun Gyeol. Fate can be brutally ironic. The moment when Yi Chan said that Eun Gyeol is like the father he never had almost brought me to tears. When he says that in the next life he hopes to be Eun Gyeol’s dad, it hits right in the heart.
In the final episode, when Eun Gyeol eventually speaks to Yi Chan in sign language, the moment carries a strange emotional weight. No matter how much he tried to change fate, the story still circles back to that connection between father and son.
The ending is technically a happy one, but to me it feels more bittersweet. Many characters receive better futures, but Eun Gyeol is the only one who remembers everything that happened. All the loneliness, sacrifices, and emotional weight remain with him. The weight he carried was too heavy that it leaves a dent even after it has been lifted off. Everyone else gets a clean slate, while he carries the memories of both timelines. His expression when he returns to 2023 feels more like relief than pure happiness.
There are also a few unanswered questions. The show does not clearly explain how Yi Chan and Cheong A reunited after she was sent abroad. We also do not see much about Eun Gyeol’s brother’s future or what Eun Yu’s life looks like after returning to the present. The final episode moves quickly to wrap things up, which makes the ending feel slightly rushed.
Still, despite those small gaps, Twinkling Watermelon remains an incredibly heartfelt coming of age story about family, sacrifice, and the complicated ways love shapes our lives. It mixes music, time travel, humor, and emotional storytelling into something that feels both nostalgic and deeply moving.
By the end of the journey, I was happy for the Ha family, but my heart still felt heavy for Eun Gyeol. Sometimes the person who saves everyone else ends up carrying the heaviest memories of all.
One day, after discovering a mysterious music store, Eun Gyeol is suddenly transported back to 1995. There he meets his father, Ha Yi Chan, who is still a lively high school student. The problem is that Yi Chan does not recognize him and is currently infatuated with a cellist named Choi Se Gyeong instead of Eun Gyeol’s future mother, Yun Cheong A. Determined to restore the timeline and bring his parents together, Eun Gyeol joins Yi Chan’s band while trying to guide fate back onto its original path.
One of the things that touched me the most about this drama is Eun Gyeol himself. He is not just a good son. He is genuinely a good person. Growing up with deaf parents and a deaf older brother never made him resent the world or feel like his life was unfair. Instead, he accepts it with a maturity that is honestly heartbreaking at times. There is a moment where he says that if he does something wrong, people will criticize his parents twice as harshly. That line alone shows the weight he carries on his shoulders. Being the only hearing person in his family means he constantly connects their quiet world with the loud outside one. He translates conversations, helps his brother with Taekwondo practice, and quietly takes on responsibilities most kids his age would never imagine.
The end of the first episode introduces young Yi Chan, played by Choi Hyun Wook, and even though I already saw clips of the drama before watching it, that moment still made me excited to see where the story would go. Choi Hyun Wook did such a charming and entertaining performance as young Yi Chan. As expected, Choi Hyun Wook is able to bring out Yi Chan’s lively, fun, and kind side.
Of course, not everything is perfect. Episode four had a small logic slip that made me pause. Eun Gyeol has lived his entire life with a deaf family, yet when he wakes up at the guesthouse in 1995 he casually mumbles “Mom, give me water.” Realistically, that kind of habit should not exist because his mother would not hear him anyway. It is a tiny moment, but it felt like clumsy writing in an otherwise thoughtful show.
As the story moves forward, the time travel shenanigans get more interesting. When Eun Gyeol first meets Se Gyeong, the slow motion moment made me worried the drama was about to throw a love triangle at us. Thankfully, the story quickly reveals a twist. The short haired “Se Gyeong” is actually On Eun Yu, Se Gyeong’s daughter from 2023 who also time travels back to 1995. I suspected this early on because the real Se Gyeong’s daughter in the present timeline was never shown. Same face, totally different personality, and the way she knew the house so well were all big hints.
The show also uses a fun narrative technique where several episodes begin with different characters narrating their own stories. We hear from Eun Gyeol, Yi Chan, Se Gyeong, Cheong A, and later Eun Yu. These narrations help us understand each character from their own perspective rather than through someone else’s interpretation.
Musically, the drama has its charming moments too. I loved that the show used Ditto by NewJeans to symbolize Eun Gyeol’s connection to the present day. As a Bunny myself, hearing that song appear made me ridiculously happy.
The emotional core of the drama, however, always circles back to Eun Gyeol. The more episodes I watched, the more sympathy I felt for him. Ryeo Un delivers such a heartfelt performance that it is impossible not to feel for this character. Acting emotional scenes is already difficult, but doing it while also performing sign language convincingly adds another layer of complexity. He absolutely nailed it.
One of the most powerful moments happens in episode eleven when Eun Gyeol finally tells Yi Chan that he is from the future. For the first time, he admits how lonely he feels. All his life he has tried to be the cheerful son who takes care of everyone, but underneath that smile is a boy who feels isolated in a world his family cannot hear. When he hugs Yi Chan and cries, I cried with him. That scene felt like years of suppressed emotions finally spilling out.
Another relationship that I loved is between Cheong A and her father. Their bond is not perfect, but it is sincere. Watching him try to connect with his daughter by hiring Eun Gyeol to teach her sign language was incredibly sweet. The way his expression softens whenever Cheong A smiles at him is one of those small details that quietly warms your heart.
Episode fourteen might be the most emotional episode of the series. The scene where Cheong A teaches Yi Chan how to say names in sign language is beautifully filmed, with soft lighting that makes her look almost like a portrait. Yi Chan looking at her with those gentle eyes before kissing her is innocent and sweet. But the episode also delivers heartbreaking moments, especially when Eun Gyeol finds his mother locked in a room by her cruel stepmother. Watching him realize how much pain his parents went through when they were young is devastating. Sometimes as children we think our struggles are the hardest, only to realize later that our parents carried burdens we never saw.
Episode fifteen breaks the heart once again. Despite all his efforts, Eun Gyeol cannot prevent the accident that causes Yi Chan to lose his hearing. What makes it even more painful is that Yi Chan gets injured while saving Eun Gyeol. Fate can be brutally ironic. The moment when Yi Chan said that Eun Gyeol is like the father he never had almost brought me to tears. When he says that in the next life he hopes to be Eun Gyeol’s dad, it hits right in the heart.
In the final episode, when Eun Gyeol eventually speaks to Yi Chan in sign language, the moment carries a strange emotional weight. No matter how much he tried to change fate, the story still circles back to that connection between father and son.
The ending is technically a happy one, but to me it feels more bittersweet. Many characters receive better futures, but Eun Gyeol is the only one who remembers everything that happened. All the loneliness, sacrifices, and emotional weight remain with him. The weight he carried was too heavy that it leaves a dent even after it has been lifted off. Everyone else gets a clean slate, while he carries the memories of both timelines. His expression when he returns to 2023 feels more like relief than pure happiness.
There are also a few unanswered questions. The show does not clearly explain how Yi Chan and Cheong A reunited after she was sent abroad. We also do not see much about Eun Gyeol’s brother’s future or what Eun Yu’s life looks like after returning to the present. The final episode moves quickly to wrap things up, which makes the ending feel slightly rushed.
Still, despite those small gaps, Twinkling Watermelon remains an incredibly heartfelt coming of age story about family, sacrifice, and the complicated ways love shapes our lives. It mixes music, time travel, humor, and emotional storytelling into something that feels both nostalgic and deeply moving.
By the end of the journey, I was happy for the Ha family, but my heart still felt heavy for Eun Gyeol. Sometimes the person who saves everyone else ends up carrying the heaviest memories of all.
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