Personal Taste: Episode 7
This was it! This was the episode that made me love Personal Taste. All of a sudden it went from merely entertaining to heart-tugging, and I credit the great performances. I love Kae-in, I love Jin-ho, I love Sang-jun and Young-sun, I love Do-bin, I love to hate In-hee — pretty solid lineup, really. The directing and editing (this drama’s biggest weaknesses) were better in this episode and the music cues used in less obtrusive ways. But most of all, it was emotionally sincere.
SONG OF THE DAY
Bubble Sisters – “가시리” (Thorn) [ Download ]
EPISODE 7 RECAP
As this episode (titled “Coming Out”) opens, Jin-ho is drunk and presumably lost in the moment, but Kae-in looks pained even as she’s kissing him. The next morning, she worries over what this means. Can he be interested in women? Specifically, her?
Jin-ho doesn’t betray any recollection of the night before and says that he was pretty drunk — he didn’t make a mistake, did he?
Arg — it’s a common phrase, but SO open to ambiguity! Example: In this case of a drunk guy kissing a girl, he might really mean, “Do you think what I did was a mistake? Or did you like it?” Or he might mean, “I can’t remember and I really hope you’re not mad!” By answering no, the girl might be saying, “No, I was happy with the kiss!” or she could be saying, “I don’t want to make you feel bad so I’ll say it didn’t happen and let’s let this go.” But nobody knows what anyone really means and everyone ends up dissatisfied. Most of all the viewer.
Kae-in tries the trick of saying that she had lent him 50,000 won, to see if he will protest. But Jin-ho can’t betray that he knows the truth and immediately reaches for his wallet, so she assures him that it was just a joke. Somberly, he says, “If I made a mistake, please forgive me.”
Disappointment plays across her face while she has her back turned to him, but she forces a smile upon facing him. She says lightly that it’s nothing, but once alone, she chides herself for confusing the moment for something it wasn’t.
Jin-ho decides to move out, now that he’s been cut out of the Dahm Museum project and has no reason to stay at the Sanggojae. It’s time for the firm to move on to new projects.
In case In-hee wasn’t hateable enough, at work she treats Kae-in coldly and even dares to admonish her for not addressing her more politely at work. She even calls Jin-ho while Kae-in is still in the room — talking in dulcet tones as though they’re closer than they are. On the other end of the line, Jin-ho is businesslike as ever, but Kae-in doesn’t know that. She listens to In-hee offer to buy him a drink as a pick-me-up for his recent setback.
Kae-in asks what that means, so In-hee tells her about Jin-ho losing his chance at the Dahm project, saying it in an accusatory tone like she’s a bad friend for not knowing. Dude, it’s not like she’s not a bad friend for backstabbing and cheating. In-hee accuses, “You’re always like this. You act nice, but in the end you only see what you want to see.”
The words make Kae-in feel guilty, but she isn’t the type to wallow in the sulks so she sets out to cheer herself and Jin-ho up. For one, she sees a doll in a store window and buys it, thinking it looks like Jin-ho. It sounds like she names the doll Jin-ho, but I’m going to guess that it’s actually Ji-no per the book. Making that slight name alteration is a playful gesture, like Kang Ji-hwan naming his dog Noki after Yi-nok.
Kae-in cooks dinner, then gives Jin-ho a pep talk to cheer up. Jin-ho, thinking of moving out, starts to give her general advice, which has the ring of a goodbye speech. Kae-in says that thinking of him leaving has ruined her appetite, and he tells her sharply to fix that sort of behavior, as she gets attached too easily. Jin-ho suggests one “last test” tomorrow, to see if she’s learned from his lessons. He’ll pretend to be her boyfriend to test her.
Stepping outside to take out the trash, Kae-in finds Chang-ryul drunk on the doorstep. He hadn’t intended to come here, but he wanted someone to talk to now that he has nobody to listen. Yeah, that’s what happens when you cheat and lie and alienate people.
Chang-ryul is genuinely heartbroken and confesses that his mother is moving to Africa. She couldn’t attend his wedding because of his father, and now her only wish is to cook a meal for her son and his wife (she doesn’t know about the breakup) before she leaves. This may be the last time he ever sees her, because in his mind there are no such things as planes, emails, or gchat. Yo, it’s called a webcam.
Kae-in reminds him that In-hee should be the one listening to this. He tells her that In-hee only liked the Chang-ryul of Kae-in’s fantasy, and “I was my best only when I was with you.” Okay, that is an unexpectedly sad tidbit that turns Chang-ryul into a rather pathetic character. Not likable, but sympathetic.
Overhearing the voices from inside, Jin-ho listens with a grave face as Chang-ryul asks a big favor of Kae-in (which we don’t hear). Chang-ryul acknowledges that it’s a crazy request and apologizes, but he’s desperate.
Kae-in tells Chang-ryul that he’s a real piece of work. How can he asks this of her? But she can’t remain indifferent when he cries that she is actually his biological mother, not just one of a string of brief stepmothers. The official story is that she died, but that was just because Chang-ryul’s father is a horrible person.
Back inside, Kae-in asks Jin-ho if they can push back their fake date, lying that she has to help her friend who has just had a baby. Jin-ho knows that she’s lying, and because he feels upset that she has succumbed to Chang-ryul’s demands again, his answers come out cold.
Kae-in feels hurt at his response, even though she tells her doll that she understands that it’s because his work is not going well. Still, can’t he get angry like a normal person, instead of taking it out on her?
Kae-in apologizes again for breaking the date. Seeing that Jin-ho is headed out for a drive, she asks if she can tag along.
As they drive, Kae-in shouts out the window, explaining to Jin-ho that his problem is that he holds everything inside, which is bound to make him sick. He should let it all out, like her. He attempts a pititful “Ya,” and she urges him to try again, a li’l bit louder now. He tries a second time, letting out a respectable “YAH!” Getting into the spirit of things, he adds, “You’re all dead!”
They end up at the river, and as girlfriday has so succinctly noted, nothing good ever happens at the river. It’s practically drama shorthand for Big Important Conversations, either of the heartbreaking or the gangster variety.
Kae-in suggests that Jin-ho do the last test here, because she feels ready. Jin-ho says seriously, “Don’t like me, because I don’t love you.” Kae-in deflates, until it occurs to her that this is his test, which is a relief. Jin-ho continues with the scenario, acting the part of a fictitious boyfriend who is trying to dump her and doesn’t deserve her compassion. (Her “test” is to respond to his breakup with dignity.)
Jin-ho says that he only dated her because she reminds him of an ex-girlfriend he can’t forget. If they keep dating, he may accidentally call her by the ex’s name, and he may even start wanting her to act like the ex. Is she still okay being with him despite that?
Kae-in thinks it over and answers slowly, “Because I love you, and we should all listen to the ones we love…”
Frustrated, Jin-ho grabs her — is this what he taught her? She’s being foolish again, giving the guy too much license to abuse her trust. Kae-in says that the words just came out automatically in response to his earnestness.
Obviously this is a mixed-up, conflicting scene for them; both are having trouble telling the difference between the fake scenario and their real feelings. Kae-in asks what she ought to have answered, because love is about putting aside your pride, isn’t it? Jin-ho contradicts her: love doesn’t make you lose pride, it helps you preserve it. He urges her not to trust anyone easily, or to love easily, or to forgive easily. It’s like he’s preparing her to shun him.
She promises to try, but Jin-ho thinks to himself, “Then you shouldn’t have agreed to that jerk Chang-ryul’s request. You’ll never change.”
Jin-ho drops Kae-in off at home, saying that he has something he has to do before going in. In actuality, he just needs to get out and to be alone.
He comes home with a rose, which he leaves outside her door, thinking, “Please, grow stronger.”
When Kae-in finds the rose in the morning Jin-ho cautions her to remember that roses have thorns, dashing our hopes that it had some other meaning. Now that’s just mean! Y’know, you could always snip the thorns off and then roses are romantic, Jin-ho!
Sang-jun and Young-sun: How much do I love thee?
Sang-jun’s voice goes up a couple notches when he answers her call in a fey tone: “Unni?” (This is particularly hilarious because the actor has a naturally baritone voice, and the way he switches back and forth is a hoot.) He has decided to put an end to this masquerade… but as soon as they meet, Young-sun presents him with skincare products like a doting older sister. Still, he grits his teeth and makes his confession — but then immediately rescinds it by saying it was a joke.
Young-sun has something to ask him, something she can’t quite ask Kae-in: “How am I as a woman?” Is she lacking appeal? No, of course not! She’s got a great figure and she’s totally attractive! Sang-jun heaps on the compliments, and Young-sun is duly flattered.
While I wouldn’t call these two co-dependent, they’ve found something comforting in this relationship, which allows them to play out these roles that make them happy. Of course, Sang-jun is faking his sexual orientation so I’m not going to call it completely healthy, but they’re enjoying this dynamic. Young-sun has somebody to take care of, and in exchange she has someone to buoy her spirits and assure her she’s wonderful. I love that this adds a tiny bit of subtlety to what could be played as simple comic relief.
Surprised at himself for chickening out of telling the truth, Sang-jun mutters to himself, “I think I’m addicted to the gay act.” (I would like a Sang-jun, please!)
Jin-ho comes home while Kae-in is getting ready to meet Chang-ryul. She invents a story about the fictional friend’s fictional baby, which Jin-ho recognizes as another lie.
You may have already guessed that Chang-ryul’s favor involves Kae-in posing as In-hee to meet his mother. Chang-ryul hasn’t had the heart (or the guts, or the spine) to tell his mother that In-hee dumped him, and wants to send her off happy.
At dinner, Kae-in(-hee) shovels food into her mouth, not saying anything. Not only does she not appreciate being used, she feels guilty for lying to Jin-ho. Chang-ryul urges her to speak up, but Kae-in mutters that he told her all she had to do was eat. When she steps aside to use the bathroom, she looks at herself in dissatisfaction and wonders what she’s doing.
Mom asks her son about the Dahm project, and Chang-ryul is actually bummed that his father stepped in to make it impossible for Jin-ho to participate. Mom considers that fortunate — she had worried that the bad blood in the parents’ generation would spill into the kids’ generation. Yeah, it’s so great that didn’t happen! Overhearing this conversation gives Kae-in the first indication of history between the families.
To cap off the evening, Mom presents Kae-in-hee with a brooch that she was given when she married.
Kae-in-hee wants to protest, but Mom pins it on her and she has to accept.
She hands it back to Chang-ryul when he drops her off at home. He tells her to keep it, since his mother gave it to her and the real In-hee has no right to it. Kae-in retorts that he can do whatever he pleases with it, but she isn’t keeping it.
Jin-ho is home when she enters, but before he has a chance to say anything, she beelines for the bathroom. After shoving food down her throat all night, it’s no surprise that she throws up. Jin-ho pats her back, although I think this is a case where holding back her hair might be more helpful, dude. Isn’t that what best girlfriends are for?
Still feeling ill, Kae-in asks Jin-ho to prick her finger (the traditional method of relieving indigestion). Jin-ho is squeamish and refuses to do it, but when Kae-in heads to the bathroom for a second vomiting spell, he agrees.
(To use this method, one typically massages the blood in the arm down to the fingertips, then wraps the thumb with thread to trap the blood. Using a sterilized needle, the skin just above the nailbed is pierced, letting out blood that is blackened, therefore freeing the circulation from the blockage causing the heartburn. It sounds like crazy voodoo stuff but it really works, and brings relief about a half-hour quicker than Tums.)
Jin-ho grasps the needle and braces himself, squeezing his eyes shut — eek, keep them OPEN when you’re thrusting a sharp pointy object into my person! — and stabs. Kae-in yelps, but it does the trick.
Thinking of the conversation she overheard, Kae-in asks whether his father knew Chang-ryul’s father. It turns out that Chang-ryul’s father was an employee of Mirae when Jin-ho’s father was running it, and had joined with a rival to steal away control of the company. This explains Jin-ho’s drunken, deprecating words from the night before.
Kae-in urges Jin-ho not to give up — that’s not like him. It’s too unfair to be forced to quit his project just because his opponents went behind his back like cowards to block him. In an effort to buoy his mood, she offers to cook for him to cheer him up, and although he declines the food, it’s the thought that counts more than the meal itself. (And when we’re talking about Kae-in’s cooking, that’s probably wise.)
In-hee had tipped Jin-ho off about Do-bin standing up to his father about the Dahm project bid, which gives him hope that all is not lost. Although he initially brushed this aside, now with Kae-in’s encouragement ringing in his ears, he reconsiders.
Using In-hee’s tip, he visits the villa where Do-bin has gone for some peace, joining him by the waterside where the latter is fishing. Do-bin knows he must be here because of the museum, but rather than jumping into business matters, Jin-ho soaks in the tranquil vibe and seems in no rush to press his case; he says that chatting with a friend seems like a better idea at the moment.
I find it interesting how he is here for the Dahm project, but he puts no pressure on Do-bin. The Mirae guys are throwing their weight around (and lots of money), trying to strong-arm their way in to getting what they want. Jin-ho, by contrast, is pretty much staking this last chance on his character.
In a thoughtful mood, the men sit and look out at the water. Do-bin asks Jin-ho if he has ever confessed love for someone. He’d only done it once before, with a hoobae (junior student) at university. Jin-ho has had a similar experience, but admits that he was the problem in the relationship — he had felt that love required him to DO so much. (This suggests that Jin-ho probably wasn’t in love, if he saw dating as a sum of activities.)
Do-bin had confessed his feelings to his crush, and for a brief while they were together. However, he felt that his love was “toxic,” and so he broke the relationship off first. The handkerchief that he lent Jin-ho is his only memento.
Jin-ho comments that the handkerchief was quite valuable for him to have lent it to him, and Do-bin supposes that it happened so that they could become friends. It’s a nice, understated scene between these two.
Back at home, Jin-ho feels content that he did as much as he possibly could. Looking up at the sky, he tells Kae-in that he’ll miss this sight of the sky from Sanggojae. She tells him, “Then you can live here for a long time.” But alas, dramatic irony says no!
Do-bin informs Kae-in about the possibility of him leaving his job, assuring her that her job is secure regardless of what happens to him. He is prepared to fight for his belief that the Dahm competition should be fair, and if things work out, he’ll stay. But if not, he’ll leave, and he’s telling her now in the event he doesn’t have a chance to later.
Kae-in finds his rueful tone worrisome, but there’s not much she can do. Without anything else to say, she calls out to him, “Fighting!”
Team Mirae (President Han, Chang-ryul, and the secretary) arrives at the museum to demand a briefing on the project. (He sure believes in being aggressive, doesn’t he?)
The men see Kae-in rushing out of the museum, curious about her business here. The secretary reports that Kae-in is in charge of designing the children’s lounge, and furthermore, she is Park Chul-han’s daughter. Immediately, Han kicks his son for being so foolish as to dump the legendary architect’s daughter.
I do love these comic misunderstandings, and we have another when Tae-hoon and Sang-jun show up to work wearing the same striped sweater. Sang-jun has swiped his from Jin-ho, while Tae-hoon has decided to copy Jin-ho in everything in order to win over Hye-mi. Both men want the other guy to change his shirt; Tae-hoon thinks he’s got a better claim to it, and insults Sang-jun for being too round for his.
Jin-ho has bigger things on his mind than his matching employees and broods in his office. Catching himself thinking back to the kiss, he wonders what’s wrong with him. Oh, I know, I know!
Meanwhile, Tae-hoon and Sang-jun’s argument results in coffee being spilled on Sang-jun. Ah, now the reason for this all becomes clear! Now Tae-hoon has even more reason to pressure Sang-jun to change shirts, and jokes, “Take it off, hyung!”
Kae-in arrives in time to see their incriminating pose, with Tae-hoon jokingly trying to pull the sweater off. Sang-jun immediately knows what Kae-in must be thinking and says, “This isn’t what it looks like” — and honestly, when have those words ever been used to describe something innocent?
Sang-jun tries to shut Kae-in up before she mentions The Gaaay, taking her to Jin-ho’s office. Laughing about her misunderstanding re: Tae-hoon, Sang-jun tells Jin-ho in a flirty tone, “You know you’re the only one for me, don’t you?”
Kae-in gives Sang-jun the evil eye for being disloyal to Jin-ho, who decides that enough is enough. Sending Sang-jun out, he explains to her, “I’ve never dated them, either one. You misunderstood from the beginning.” Kae-in doesn’t quite get what he’s saying, and he fumbles for words, adding, “I’m not actually g—”
Which, of course, is when Sang-jun bursts back in and interrupts. Jin-ho pushes him back out and tries to resume talking, but of course the moment is lost. Kae-in recalls the reason for her visit, and shares that Do-bin told her there’s a chance that things may work out for Jin-ho, because he’s going to fight. Jin-ho says she could have called, but she answers that she wanted to see him smile in person. Aw.
Han’s lackeys — Chang-ryul and the secretary — wait for Kae-in to return to the museum so they can see what she’s up to. To Chang-ryul’s surprise, she arrives with Jin-ho, and being the self-centered fool that he is, Chang-ryul decides that she must be hanging out with Jin-ho because of him — she’s doing it to get back at him.
By chance, Chang-ryul runs into an old friend, played by Julien Kang, which gives them a chance to speak some English (Julien is Canadian, Kim Ji-suk lived in England). They head inside for a chat, and Julien — er, I think his character’s name is Joe, though it hardly matters — explains that he’s here because he happens to be acquainted with Do-bin.
As Joe explains how he knew Do-bin, he reverts from Korean to English to make this delicate revelation: “Mr. Choi is… special.”
Jin-ho is here to return the handkerchief and to thank Do-bin for fighting on his behalf for the museum project, regardless of the outcome.
Do-bin muses, “Do you know, when I’m with you my mood improves,” which is a compliment that Jin-ho readily returns. Do-bin asks, “Then do you also know that I like you?” Jin-ho returns, “I like you, too.” But… they’re having two entirely different conversations here, if ya know what I mean.
Jin-ho means his words, but purely at face value. However, recall that Do-bin already believes Jin-ho is gay…
To keep us hanging for just a moment longer, we return to Chang-ryul, who prods Joe for a straight (snerk) answer. Joe does that maddening thing where he practically taunts, “YOU know… oh you don’t know?… maybe I shouldn’t tell… but do you want to know?” He may as well be a 16-year-old mean girl, the way he relishes this gossip. He says knowingly, “Well, he’ll never be able to fulfill his desire. What Mr. Choi likes is… a man.”
(This is cringey acting at its cringiest. The cheesy English dialogue certainly doesn’t help. Eek!)
We don’t hear the declaration directly from Do-bin, but we return to see Jin-ho’s stunned reaction. Do-bin confesses that he first started to feel something for him at the Dream Art Center presentation, and the moment he heard about Jin-ho’s “true nature,” he felt they shared a special connection.
Jin-ho stutters, unable to come up with a proper response. Do-bin continues, saying that he hadn’t thought to confess his feelings for someone again, but he believes that Jin-ho will understand how he feels, which is how he mustered the nerve to confess. Do-bin isn’t asking for an answer now; they can both take time to think.
(Ryu Seung-ryong is so good, because he makes you feel sorry for his hope, and it makes you hope that Jin-ho will somehow be able to escape without hurting his feelings. He’s really vulnerable in this moment, and he’s just basically given Jin-ho the means with which to hurt him…)
Speechless, Jin-ho walks out of the meeting with heavy steps. He’s not in the mood for drama when Chang-ryul confronts him, all puffed up with bravado now that he thinks he’s got the upper hand.
Jin-ho warns that this isn’t the time to mess with him, but Chang-ryul taunts, “The almighty Jeon Jin-ho wouldn’t possibly pretend to be gay to gain Director Choi’s interest, would he? I thought you said you wanted to fight with bare fists, fair and square, you punk.” His voice turns aggressive and Chang-ryul grabs Jin-ho’s shoulder, so Jin-ho lets fly a punch.
Chang-ryul takes this as confirmation, and says that he didn’t think Jin-ho would be so low to use Do-bin’s sexual orientation for his own gain. Jin-ho says he’s never used Do-bin, so Chang-ryul scoffs, “What, then? Are you dating? Why do you keep hanging around here?”
Alas, just at this moment Jin-ho sees Do-bin standing there, having heard everything. Chang-ryul continues to challenge Jin-ho — is he using Do-bin? Or is he really gay? What, is there no Door No. 3?
As if the moment weren’t fraught enough, a different angle reveals to us — but not to the men — that a fourth person has walked into this conversation. As Chang-ryul presses for Jin-ho’s explanation, two very curious, very vulnerable people await his answer, each hoping for a different response.
Jin-ho can tell the truth and hurt Do-bin — and also potentially make himself look like he was using him, as Chang-ryul accuses — or he can lie to preserve Do-bin’s feelings and give Chang-ryul more ammunition against himself. After struggling with himself for a long moment, Jin-ho answers, “You’re right. I’m… gay.”
Kae-in drops her materials in shock, which fall to the ground loudly. Jin-ho turns and sees her standing there, but what can he do? He hangs his head in chagrin.
Chang-ryul reacts to this with surprise but also glee, like he just can’t wait to rub this into Jin-ho’s face. He crows, “Really? So you weren’t really a man?” (This hammers in the point I mentioned in a previous recap about the Korean wording that pegs gay men as “not really men.”)
Sick of Chang-ryul’s douchey behavior, Kae-in bursts in to tell him to cut it out, and I love her in this moment. I think her expression (below) explains just why she’s such a good friend.
Do-bin quietly leaves as Kae-in challenges Chang-ryul, “Who are you to mock him? It’s not like he wanted to be born this way. So if a man loves a woman, he’s a man — but is he not a man if he loves another man? Are you a real man — is that why you tore my heart?”
Jin-ho tries to stop this argument, but he goes unheard. Finally, he yells for her to stop and angrily he walks off. Kae-in follows him out to the car, pleading with him to talk to her. Dully, he asks, “What about? I have nothing to say.” He gets in the car and leaves.
Chang-ryul accosts Kae-in to demand what her relationship is with Jin-ho. Why is she taking the side “of such a dirty bastard”? He sneers, “Are you dating a gay guy now?”
Just as In-hee comes along (unseen for the moment), Kae-in slaps him, demanding, “Dirty? What’s dirty? Why is Jin-ho dirty? Whether man or woman, a person loves a person. You’ve never truly loved anyone. Who are you to call him dirty?”
Her passionate response startles Chang-ryul, who says, “You weren’t even like this when I broke up with you.” Kae-in agrees that back then she couldn’t say a thing, stupid fool that she was. “But not anymore. Jin-ho must have changed me.”
And Jin-ho drives off feeling all sorts of frustrated, driving recklessly.
What made this episode stand out was that the conflicts were played out from a place of emotional sincerity. We’ve had our gay-not-gay jokes and comic misunderstandings, all meant to elicit laughs. Now it’s time to get deeper into the messy conflict, and I appreciate that they treat this problem of Jin-ho’s mistaken identity with respect. How much do I love that the one actual gay guy in this drama is portrayed with such quiet dignity? There are no laughs made at his expense, and despite the fact that Do-bin’s misunderstanding is rife with comic potential, I like that they didn’t write him off as joke fodder.
Ryu Seung-ryong played his scenes with so much pathos that I felt myself moved along with him. Rather than exaggerating his misunderstanding, he cautiously puts his trust into Jin-ho’s hands — to be protected or shredded at his will — and I found myself hoping against hope that maybe Jin-ho could be gay after all, since Do-bin is lonely character. In fact, he’s rather tragic, in the way he is forced to live in isolation. It’s not that he is repressing his homosexuality or self-loathing, because one gets the sense he has accepted himself for who he is. However, Korean society is still generally unaccepting of gays, and therefore he has decided to live without romantic love. Now that he finds someone who makes him hope again, we feel sad to know that his hopes must at some point be dashed.
Furthermore, I love the way Lee Min-ho played Jin-ho’s struggle whether to say he is gay or not. It wasn’t about his own pride at all, nor was it about sticking it to Chang-ryul. Instead, he understood that he’d been given something fragile and held the power to break that or preserve it with his answer. When he “admits” that he is gay out of respect for Do-bin’s confession, it just about melted my heart. (If only he had seen Kae-in first! But then I fear he would have been so conflicted it woulda broken him, he’d be like the robot who self-destructs when presented with logical fallacy.) And then Kae-in hears this, and Jin-ho realizes he has closed the door to any possibility with her, whereupon she leaps to his defense. If it weren’t already in a gooey puddle on the floor, my heart would have then broken. And I love Sohn Ye-jin as Kae-in — she hits every note just right, whether it be a comic moment or a heartfelt one, but particularly the heartfelt ones. Her impassioned defense of Jin-ho is angry, hurt, loving, indignant, sorrowful, all at once.
The novel played these moments off as comedy bits, but the drama actually imbues them with heart and emotion. (I usually feel the opposite to be true when novels are adapted to the screen.)
Also: Isn’t it ironic that Kae-in finally gives Chang-ryul the answer he deserves, and it’s all because of Jin-ho — but not because of his “lessons”? She’s not asserting her own pride, but upset at his affront to Jin-ho’s.
- Personal Taste: Episode 6
- Personal Taste: Episode 5
- Personal Taste: Episode 4
- Personal Taste: Episode 3
- Personal Taste: Episode 2
- Personal Taste: Episode 1
- Cinderella, Prosecutor, Taste: First episode impressions
- Personal Taste (the novel): Part 3
- Personal Taste (the novel): Part 2
- Personal Taste (the novel): Part 1