I swapped England for Seoul after watching a K-drama – and found myself cast in a K-pop video | culture

TThe first time I discovered South Korea was during a Mandarin homework mishap in 2013. I was 16 and lacked all the characteristics required to be good at languages: confidence, a thick skin, and any desire to speak out loud. I had to choose a language, and Mandarin seemed like the best choice for me – with my self-proclaimed photographic memory, I spent hours cramming complex Chinese characters, convincing myself that I could pass my exams without uttering a single word. i couldn’t.

My vow of silence was shattered three months later, when I met a conversation teacher who had mastered Chinese. As he suspected, I was desperate. I cried, I cried. Stunned by my incompetence, she calmly wiped away a tear with her knuckle while helplessly suggesting that I watch Chinese TV dramas to improve my pronunciation instead.

That night, I anxiously searched Netflix. Unlike today, there weren’t a lot of Asian dramas to choose from — just a handful of edgy Japanese crime series, some Chinese epics filled with sword fights and long gray beards, and a South Korean drama about a high school rock band with perfectly coiffed hair. As an English teenager at the height of One Direction fever, this was the jackpot. I scrolled past the cute thumbnail full of young Korean actors, no one ever refused to watch TV because of their homework, and naively thought: “Well, you asked me to watch a drama.” I often think about what my life would have been like if I hadn’t clicked.

Korean culture became an instant obsession. The soundtrack to the drama Shut Up & Let’s Go, It was irresistibly attractive, the four main characters were impossibly handsome (I audibly screamed oh my god at my laptop when the guitarist made his first appearance), and the city of Seoul sang like a siren. It seems to be a vibrant place full of endless friendships, great food and a thriving entertainment industry. It felt like the start of something special. I knew I had to be there.

After five years, I finally made it. Korean culture wasn’t mainstream yet, so I traveled to Seoul under the pretense of learning Korean, which was, shockingly, more believable than my K-drama obsession. Waiting for the rest of the world to catch up, I devoured and loved every K-drama I could find. But can Seoul live up to my rising expectations?

I’m over it. In Korea, weeks turned into months, and months turned into years. Every day I felt as if I was surrounded by the magic of K-Dramas, watching Korean culture blossom from the inside out through Squid Game, Parasite, and the music of K-pop band BTS.

I existed as a contented observer until, quite by chance, I was chosen to star in a K-pop music video (What You Waiting For by Jeon Somi), which has now racked up over 70 million views. This photoshoot led to more music videos and advertisements, and more advertisements led to the Holy Grail: K-Dramas.

Eight years after I made my Chinese teacher cry, I was sitting on the set of a Korean drama. I was a featured extra, as – as with most of my music videos and advertising jobs – I was hired to look tall and blond. But on this day, I was also helping wrangle a group of English-speaking foreign extras, helping translate between them and the Korean production crew.

My head turned as the main actor of the day crept into the bar stool next to me. My jaw dropped. He was the amazing guitarist from Shut Up & Let’s Go.

That’s when it really hit me. I looked around the room; From the first Korean actor I loved to the production crew I used to speak loudly to in Korean, To the 15 or so extras I was mentoring. I realized that one click not only completely changed the course of my life, but also who I was as a person. I’ve gotten over my hatred of languages. I was confident. I was living my dream.

How Korean Corn Dogs Changed My Life by Alice Amelia published by Little Brown.