Episode 5
“Hello, everyone, watching today’s live show! If you’ve tuned in, you can already think of yourselves as getting about fifty percent off!”
As soon as the live broadcast started, all eyes turned to the host.
Today’s host, Choi Yoon‑ju, had an incredible track record.
They even said that anything she presented always sold out.
Byung‑wook had made it his mission to get a sell‑out this time, and apparently, he’d gone all out to recruit Yoon‑ju for the show.
“I heard the team leader worked hard to get her. I heard he fought to take her from your team, Ha‑yoon.”
“Really…?”
“Yeah. Sounds like he’s serious this time. Even those clothes apparently that brand said a bunch of times they’d never do home shopping again, but Team Leader Chae somehow convinced them. He swore he’d pay them back with a sell‑out.”
Ha‑yoon glanced between Yoon‑ju—already in full sales mode—and the screen showing sales numbers.
Sure enough, Yoon‑ju’s skill was undeniable.
Just shaking the clothes in front of the camera a few times had already shot the numbers up.
“Wow, are we actually going to sell out today?”
The director’s comment made Team 2 light up with smiles.
By now, Byung‑wook was probably grinning ear to ear somewhere too.
But Ha‑yoon couldn’t smile so easily.
A knot of unease still sat in her chest.
She pulled up product reviews on her phone under the table.
Just as she feared—tons of people had said the sizes ran small and you should buy one size up.
It’s fine… it’ll be fine…
Her palms were clammy. She pressed them together, swallowing hard.
Please… just let this end without a problem…
Maybe her prayers were working—
the broadcast flowed smoothly, and her tension started to ease.
Thank God. She doesn’t look uncomfortable at all.
Ha‑yoon let out a long breath of relief.
Yoon‑ju moved on to the pants displayed behind her.
She shook, twisted, and tugged at them—no wrinkles, solid fabric.
“I know the fit’s what you’re all curious about. No matter how pretty clothes are, if the fit isn’t right, I never reach for them either.”
She signaled for the camera to zoom in on the pants she was wearing.
The fit was perfect, hugging her figure flawlessly.
“Where else would you find a fit like this? I was honestly shocked the moment I put them on—‘Wow, these are amazing. If I don’t buy these, I’m going to regret it.’ That’s exactly what I thought. And then, to get this quality at this price? You’re never going to see this deal again, I promise.”
The energy was high, the signs of a sell‑out were clear, and Team 2 staff all looked relieved, even smiling now.
Almost at the end, Yoon‑ju smiled brightly and nodded.
“And I hear a lot of you in the comments asking about stretch. You’re wondering, ‘With a fit this snug, do they stretch?’ Well, you’re in for a surprise. They’re super stretchy. Let me show you.”
Everyone was ready to cheer the sell‑out.
But, like they say, accidents come when you least expect them.
Suddenly, everyone’s faces froze in horror.
As Yoon‑ju crouched down to demonstrate the stretch, a loud riiip echoed through the studio—the back seam of her pants split wide open.
The exact thing Ha‑yoon had been afraid of… happened.
“Oh… oh no…”
Team 2 staff covered their mouths, frozen in shock.
The director quickly switched the camera feed, but it was too late—the damage had already gone live.
“What are you doing?! Fix this now!”
Snapped out of their daze, the staff scrambled into action.
The live show was cut short.
The backlash came fast.
Buyers who ordered the pants demanded refunds, and even customers who’d bought the blouse canceled their orders, saying they couldn’t trust anything from the same line.
Chaos erupted in customer service.
“Why didn’t anyone tell Yoon‑ju she should go a size up? She said nobody mentioned it! So who dropped the ball?”
Byung‑wook stormed into the studio, yelling and pointing fingers.
Watching him, Ha‑yoon felt sick.
She’d warned him before, and he hadn’t listened—now he was acting like this?
Then someone nearby murmured, just loud enough for her to hear:
“Didn’t you know about the sizing, Ha‑yoon?”
“…What do you mean?”
“Weren’t you trying to tell her something before the show? You should’ve told her about the size…”
Seriously? You’re blaming me now?
Ha‑yoon stared at the staffer, speechless.
They added a half‑hearted, “Or not, I guess,” as if that made it okay.
Byung‑wook’s eyes narrowed as he turned on her like a predator.
“What’s this? You knew?”
“…Sir?”
“Don’t tell me you planned this! You wanted Team 2 to tank so Team 1 could look better, is that it?!”
Ha‑yoon bit her lip hard, tears threatening to spill.
She looked around—none of Team 2 met her eyes.
They weren’t going to step in. Some even sighed in relief that Byung‑wook’s rage had found another target.
“This is all your fault. What are you gonna do about it?”
“How could this possibly be my fault, Team Leader?”
Her voice shook.
Byung‑wook scoffed, folding his arms.
“You broke it, you fix it. You buy out the stock.”
“…Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You buy them all. Problem solved.”
She bit her lip until it hurt.
Byung‑wook checked the remaining stock, then laughed.
“Not that many left. Shouldn’t be a problem if you hand over, oh, about a year’s worth of your salary.”
“Team Leader, that’s—”
“You buy them all. Why should I clean up your mess?”
“Enough.”
The voice came from behind them familiar, steady, and sharp.
Ha‑yoon’s tear‑filled eyes lifted slowly.
The person she wanted to see most was standing there, like he’d appeared out of a dream.
Her eyes welled over instantly.
“She’s not even on your team. What exactly are you doing to her?”
Tae‑jun’s voice was calm, but his eyes were ice.
Byung‑wook’s face twisted in annoyance at being interrupted so bluntly, but Tae‑jun didn’t care. Hands in his pockets, he strode forward.
The studio was dim now, equipment half‑packed, staff standing stiff in a line.
Even without an explanation, the situation was obvious.
And right in the center, there was Byung‑wook—and Ha‑yoon, head hanging low in front of him.
“Director Yoon, good timing,” Byung‑wook sneered. “Look at the mess your Team 1 members cause.”
“Explain. Clearly.”
“She didn’t pass along a critical detail. That’s why this happened. I can overlook incompetence, fine. But what I can’t stand is someone treating people like they’re beneath her.”
“I never—”
“Shut it! You don’t talk when your superior’s speaking!”
Ha‑yoon’s head dropped again, shoulders flinching at the volume.
Her hands fidgeted helplessly as she prayed for this to end.
“She’s acting like she’s better than everyone, that’s what! You think I’d get this angry for nothing? She’s the reason this whole thing went to hell!”
Byung‑wook kept piling on lying, twisting things, saying she never explained the sizes, that she always talks back, never apologizes, and on and on.
With every word, Ha‑yoon’s head sank lower.
Hearing Tae‑jun stand there silently, listening, made her cheeks burn.
She could feel it. He must be thinking she really was the cause of all this.
Her throat tightened, but she couldn’t say a word.
