KBS Oscars Live Broadcast Studio — Seoul, Korea, February 24, 2008
The bright lights of the KBS studio shone down on three hosts sitting behind a sleek desk, the Oscars logo gleaming behind them on a massive screen.
Cameras were rolling.
The broadcast was live.
And tonight wasn't just any broadcast—it was history in the making.
South Korea was watching.
Back in the studio, the hosts sat with poised excitement as they guided the audience through the 80th Academy Awards in real-time.
"And now," said the younger male host, his voice full of energy, "we come to the strongest contender for this year's Best Picture—No Country for Old Men, directed by the Coen brothers, Joel and Ethan."
His co-host, an older gentleman with a calm, scholarly air, nodded. "Ah yes, the Coen brothers. They're no strangers to the Oscars."
"In 1996, they took home Best Original Screenplay for Fargo."
"And let's not forget—Barton Fink won the Palme d'Or at Cannes back in 1991. That was a masterpiece."
The younger host turned to him with a grin. "Sunbae-nim, do you think Director Lee Jihoon stands a chance against them tonight?"
Professor Kim Minsoo, a respected film scholar and Jihoon's current professor at Seoul National University, gave a thoughtful hum.
"Hmm... I'd say it's a 50-50 shot. Jihoon also won the Palme d'Or, just like the Coen brothers. He's got the credentials."
"That's right," the host agreed. "To all our viewers at home, stay tuned—we'll be updating you throughout the night as we watch our very own Director Lee Jihoon on the global stage."
Suddenly, the older professor leaned forward slightly, eyes lighting up as he pointed toward the live feed. "Ah! There he is. Jihoon-ssi is walking the red carpet right now."
The younger host perked up. "Oh! That's him? I heard he's your student, Professor Kim. Is that true?"
Professor Kim chuckled warmly and nodded.
"Yes, that's right. Jihoon is currently enrolled at Seoul National University. A brilliant student—top of his class every year, even though…" he paused with a teasing smile, "his attendance is… well, let's just say it's not perfect."
Laughter broke out in the studio.
"But we all understand," he continued. "He's not just a student. He's also an active filmmaker. If he spent all his time in the classroom, he wouldn't be walking the red carpet at the Oscars tonight, would he?"
The camera zoomed in on Jihoon on the red carpet, looking sharp in his tailored tuxedo, flashes from the paparazzi lighting up around him.
He looked calm, but those who knew him could sense the weight on his shoulders.
Professor Kim's tone softened as he continued. "It's easy to forget he's only 19 years old kid."
"At this age, he's already won the Palme d'Or, directed a box-office hit, and already groom up another rising director, Yoon Jongbin. The last two years of his life have been extraordinary."
There was a short pause before he added something more carefully.
"And even if he doesn't win tonight, it's not a loss."
"Jihoon is still young. He has decades ahead of him and I hope people remember that."
"This is just the beginning for him. Let's not put unnecessary pressure on someone who's already accomplished more than most do in a lifetime."
The studio quieted for a second as the weight of the professor's words settled in.
It wasn't just a casual comment. Those who understood the tension behind the scenes—the power plays, the hidden agendas tied to Jihoon's Oscar nomination—knew exactly what Professor Kim was doing.
He was protecting his student.
Trying to soften the blow, just in case the award didn't come. In Korea, where politics and media often dance together, even a film award could become ammunition for someone else's fight.
But tonight, for a moment, all of that faded.
Back at the Dolby Theatre — The 80th Academy Awards.
Jihoon made his way down the iconic red carpet and found his seat in the same row as the GET OUT cast and crew.
He greeted a few familiar faces with polite nods before settling in beside one of the film's producers—Jim, a seasoned executive from Fox.
The energy around them was electric.
Nervous laughter, whispered conversations, and the occasional burst of applause filled the space as people took their seats.
The crew from GET OUT couldn't hide their excitement. Even though the film had started as a modest $4.5 million project, tonight it was one of the surprise frontrunners.
No one, especially not the execs at Fox, had expected it to come this far.
When Jihoon first submitted the script, the studio had assumed it was just another horror entry—maybe part of a dark franchise or a spooky one-off.
They liked it enough to greenlight it, thinking it could do decently at the box office.
But awards? That felt like a stretch.
And yet here they were—nominated in four categories at the Oscars.
You could practically see the dollar signs in the eyes of the Fox team.
In 2008, long before the social media boom, winning or even just being nominated at the Oscars was the biggest promotional boost a film could get.
A golden statue meant prestige, yes—but it also meant bigger box office numbers, better paychecks, and suddenly, everyone involved became a hot commodity.
From cast to crew, being labeled "award-winning" changed careers overnight.
Jim leaned over with a hopeful grin, whispering, "Jihoon, be honest—do you think we've got a real shot tonight?"
Jihoon tilted his head slightly, thoughtful. "Maybe," he said with a soft smile. "But you're the one who's been pulling strings behind the scenes. Shouldn't you know better than me?"
Jim chuckled nervously and adjusted his cufflinks. "True… but it's been a long time since I was this close to the Oscars. Last time I was in this room, Titanic was sweeping the stage. That was… what, a decade ago?"
"More or less," Jihoon replied, not looking away from the stage.
Jim nodded, trying to hide how much it mattered to him.
As Fox's CEO, he knew that a win tonight would boost not just the film's status—but his own reputation within the industry and at the corporate level.
A win on his watch could mean power. Real power.
But Jihoon wasn't thinking about Jim or studio politics.
He was deep in his own thoughts.
In the original timeline—the one Jihoon remembered from his past life—GET OUT hadn't released until 2017.
It won Best Original Screenplay at the 2018 Oscars. That was a victory, yes, but a modest one.
Now, in this altered timeline, the film had taken shape earlier. The director was different. The cast had shifted. Even the tone of the film had evolved slightly under Jihoon's influence.
Could the butterfly effect change history tonight?
He glanced across the theater, sizing up the competition.
The Coen brothers were here with No Country for Old Men—the heavy favorite.
They were veterans, and their film was sharp, brutal, and masterfully crafted.
And then there was Juno—a coming-of-age indie darling that had captured hearts with its quirky dialogue and heartfelt themes.
It was a solid contender in the screenplay category.
But GET OUT wasn't just another horror movie.
It was a film that peeled back the layers of modern America—exposing the deep-rooted racism and hypocrisy hidden beneath polite smiles and liberal guilt.
Wrapped in suspense and eerie silence, it forced audiences to confront uncomfortable truths.
"Juno's a good film," Jihoon thought to himself, "but it celebrates a teenage pregnancy like it's some kind of quirky rite of passage. I don't know... maybe it's just me—but that kind of message feels careless."
He didn't mean to judge. Maybe it was his upbringing.
As someone raised in a more conservative Asian household, Jihoon couldn't help but feel uneasy at how casually the film treated such a serious issue. To him, GET OUT had something more urgent to say than Juno.
"Still," he muttered to himself, "the Academy doesn't always vote based on substance."
Just then, the lights dimmed, and the crowd hushed.
Jon Stewart this year host stepped onto the stage, smiling at the sea of stars before him.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice light and inviting, "Welcome to the 80th Academy Awards!"
A wave of applause broke out.
"Okay, let's save the small talk for the afterparties. Let's keep things moving—and no, I will not be doing a musical number," Jon added, earning a round of laughter.
He glanced toward the wings. "Let's welcome our first presenters for the night—Rachel McAdams and Owen Wilson! They'll be announcing the award for Best Supporting Actor."
As Jon exited the stage, the two actors emerged to a round of polite applause.
Jihoon sat back in his seat, exhaling slowly. The ceremony had begun.