In Korea, the KBS live broadcast studio was buzzing with excitement.
"Congratulations to Director Lee Jihoon-ssi for winning the 80th Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay!" the announcer's voice rang out, brimming with pride.
On the screen behind him, the live feed from the Oscars showed Jihoon's name being called as the winner.
The younger presenter on set beamed at the camera, then turned to the guest seated beside him.
"Professor Kim Minsoo, do you have anything you'd like to say to your student?"
Kim Minsoo's lips curved into a proud smile. His tone was warm, yet carried the firmness of a teacher.
"Jihoon is a good kid. He deserves this award. But I hope he stays grounded and remembers that, as a filmmaker, he should never lose his passion for art."
"Winning multiple international awards is an honor, but it shouldn't make him complacent."
It was clear that Minsoo was proud, but he also hadn't forgotten his role as a mentor—his praise came wrapped in a gentle reminder, almost like a lesson in disguise.
The older announcer chuckled, cutting through the solemn tone.
"Hahaha! No wonder you're a professor at Seoul National University. Even here on a TV show, you can't stop teaching!"
The younger presenter added with a grin,
"But still, to have your student become the first Korean to win an Oscar… that must mean something about your teaching."
"It's proof you've been doing something right."
Professor Kim waved his hands quickly, as if brushing off the compliment.
"Aigoo… don't say that. I had nothing to do with his achievement. From Cannes' Palme d'Or to now, the only thing I did was help him with the festival submission. After that, he was completely on his own."
"His success comes from his own focus and dedication to making a great film."
Meanwhile, in the KBS backstage control room, the station's current director was watching with a look of disbelief.
He was the one who had pushed to put Jihoon in the national spotlight—not out of pure patriotism, but with a political calculation in mind.
Because tomorrow, the country would face a change in presidency.
In times like these, people had already picked their sides, and those who hadn't often ended up being sacrificed.
The director had chosen to align himself with the current administration, and his plan was simple: use Jihoon's appearance to distract public attention from politics and toward a feel-good national achievement.
Whether Jihoon won or lost, it didn't matter to him—so long as the focus shifted away from the president, his own position would be safe.
What he didn't expect was for Jihoon to actually win.
And to be so young.
The win was enough to make headlines, certainly more than he had originally bargained for.
But as the applause echoed through the broadcast, the director also realized something else—his little maneuver might have unintentionally put Jihoon under the nation's microscope.
If Jihoon had lost, he would've been roasted by public opinion. Now, with the Oscar in his hands, the attention might be even more intense.
Either way, the director knew he had stirred the pot. And whether Jihoon saw it as an honor or a burden… that was no longer his concern.
Meanwhile, at the SNSD dormitory, the atmosphere was anything but calculated. No political agendas, no hidden motives—just a group of young women gathered in their living room, sprawled across the sofa and floor, watching the Oscars live broadcast.
The moment Jihoon's name was announced, Yoona shot up from her seat, waving her arms wildly like she had just scored the winning goal in a soccer match.
"AAAAHAHA! Jihoon oppa is sooo awesome! No wonder he's my idol!" she screamed, bouncing in place.
Sunny, who had the unfortunate luck of sitting right next to her, got an accidental smack on the shoulder from Yoona's frantic waving.
"YA! Im Yoona! Do you want to die?!" Sunny yelled, immediately lunging at her.
Before Yoona could defend herself, Sunny was already on top of her, fingers digging mercilessly into her sides.
"Ack—! Unnie, stop! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Yoona squealed, wriggling and laughing at the same time. "I was just excited!"
Sunny gave her one last jab before letting go. "Next time, keep your excitement to yourself!"
From the couch behind them, Sooyoung rolled her eyes and leaned back, munching on a snack.
"Ya, can you two stop with the nonsense and just watch? It's not like it's Jihoon oppa's first international award. I really don't get why you're acting like it's the end of the world."
Yoona spun around, her expression dead serious.
"Unnie, this is the Oscars! Do you know how big that is? No one in Korea has ever won one before! And Cannes wasn't even broadcast live like this—we only read about it in the newspapers. This is totally different!"
She didn't stop there. Yoona straightened her back and puffed up her chest like a proud goose.
"Plus! Do you know what this means? I can officially say I acted in a film by an Oscar-winning director! 'Your Name' was my first film, and I was the main actress!"
"I know you're just jealous because I was the female lead, and you were… what? A two-second cameo?"
Sooyoung scoffed, narrowing her eyes with a dangerous look as she fired back.
"At least I didn't have a scene where I had to touch my breast. Oh wait, you didn't have one either—because you're just completely flat."
"YA! Take that back!" Yoona shouted, lunging forward, but Sunny quickly grabbed her by the arm to hold her back.
The two started bickering like children while the rest of the members exchanged amused glances.
Tiffany shook her head, Hyoyeon chuckled under her breath, and Seohyun quietly sipped her juice.
At the far end of the sofa, Taeyeon stayed quiet, eyes glued to the TV.
But a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Without saying a word, she reached for her phone, typed out a quick congratulatory message, and hit send.
When she looked up, her gaze met Jessica's across the coffee table. Jessica was wearing the same subtle smile, phone in hand, clearly doing the exact same thing.
Back at the Oscar ceremony, Jihoon was already making his way up to the stage. The applause rolled through the theater like a wave, following him step by step until he reached the microphone.
He glanced down at the gleaming golden Oscar in his hands, the stage lights catching every edge of it. A small smile tugged at his lips.
"I have to say…" he began, his voice calm but carrying easily across the room. "This trophy really has a weight to it."
The crowd chuckled, catching the double meaning. To most, it sounded like a harmless comment about the physical heft of the statue.
But for those who knew his journey—winning the Palme d'Or just last year—it was also a sly nod to the weight and prestige of the Oscars themselves.
A subtle compliment wrapped in a joke, delivered with perfect timing.
Once the laughter faded, Jihoon continued, his tone warm and sincere.
"First, I want to thank the Academy for this incredible honor. And of course, Peli, the crew, and every single person behind the camera who worked tirelessly to bring this story to life."
"To the cast—your performances were so raw, so real, that this award belongs to you every bit as much as it does to me."
"Without all of you, the words I put on paper would have never found their way to the screen."
He shifted his gaze toward the audience, as if looking for a familiar face.
"I also want to thank Jim from Fox, who believed in this film from the very beginning and fought to make sure it reached the world."
"And finally… my professor, Mr. Kim Minsoo, from Seoul National University. You've been my mentor since the very start, encouraging me, pushing me, and never letting me forget why I fell in love with filmmaking in the first place. Thank you."
He lifted the Oscar high above his head, the stage lights catching on the gold.
Then, with a deep, respectful bow, he stepped back.
The audience rose in a standing ovation.
The orchestra swelled, the cameras panned across the cheering crowd, and somewhere—in a living room thousands of miles away—friends and family shouted his name at a television screen.