Bad Memory Eraser: Episodes 3-4
The second week of the drama dives right back into the cringe-worthy antics as Gun trails Joo-yeon with all the awkward enthusiasm of a romance manhwa protagonist, complete with glowing backdrops and fluttering flower petals. Gun’s touching tale of how his first love saved him at thirteen wins over Joo-yeon’s parents instantly, but for Joo-yeon, it only deepens her feelings of guilt.
To deflect Gun’s advances, Joo-yeon fabricates a secret boyfriend, and Gun, naturally, jumps to the conclusion that she’s dating her hospital crush, Yoon Teo (Kim Jae-yong)—who, unbeknownst to Joo-yeon, is a notorious womanizer. Joo-yeon cherishes a keychain Teo gave her, believing it to be a heartfelt birthday gift, but is crushed when she loses it. Little does she know, Teo casually handed out the same keychain to every employee.
Despite his growing jealousy, Gun can’t stand to see Joo-yeon upset. He goes so far as to steal another employee’s keychain to replace her lost one, even pretending he found it. When he later sees Teo kissing a junior researcher, Gun takes drastic measures to protect Joo-yeon from the painful truth, even cupping her face to keep her from turning around. The gesture, however, backfires, making him look like the overbearing bad guy, much to Joo-yeon’s irritation. Yet, Gun holds on until Teo’s fleeting romance is out of sight, willing to bear Joo-yeon’s wrath to spare her heart.
Shin is still reeling from the aftermath of Gun’s suicide attempt. The police take his statement, but despite some vague suspicions about how quickly Shin managed to rescue Gun, they’re ready to close the case. However, agency director Hong Joon-man (Han Sang-jin) seizes the moment to manipulate Shin, pressuring him into renewing his contract with the threat of spreading damaging rumors about Gun if he refuses.
Beneath the polished facade of last week’s tennis star, Shin is crumbling under the constant micromanagement of his overbearing mother and the suffocating weight of everyone’s expectations. The pressure has taken its toll, manifesting in Shin’s obsessive-compulsive behaviors and his relentless need to overextend himself in an effort to please everyone around him.
When Joo-yeon steps in for Shin’s regular psychiatrist Dong-chil one day, she immediately recognizes his compulsive tendencies and dives straight to the core of his issues—Shin is so consumed with worrying about others that he’s forgotten how to care for himself. “Does my opinion matter?” Shin asks, already resigned to the idea that it doesn’t. But Joo-yeon, unfazed, reminds him that it’s his life—his own opinion should be the one that matters most.
Driven by the lure of advertising revenue, Director Hong forces Shin into wearing a new pair of sponsored sneakers, leaving Shin with no choice but to comply in order to protect Gun. Shin wins his match, but the victory comes at a painful cost—his feet are raw and blistered. He hastily hides his bloody socks when his parents enter, and when his mother scolds him to uphold his image, Shin quietly vows to do better, even as his sad eyes tell a different story.
Later that day, a chance encounter at a convenience store leads to Joo-yeon accidentally bumping into Shin, causing him to drop and crack his boiled eggs. Pouting like a child, Shin laments that it’s a bad omen and that he’s doomed to lose his final match tomorrow. To lift the curse, Joo-yeon ends up joining him on an impromptu foodie tour. But as they spend time together, it becomes clear that Shin orchestrated the whole thing to cheer up the stressed-out Joo-yeon. When she realizes he’s once again putting others before himself, she surprises him with genuine praise for his earlier match. Shin’s reaction is priceless—a beaming smile that lights up his face as he jogs alongside her taxi to stick to his exercise routine.
Shin’s visit to the hospital leads to an unexpected reunion with Gun, who tackles his younger brother to the ground to prevent him from returning Joo-yeon’s lost keychain—determined to keep his cover intact. As they lie on the grass, the brothers share a rare, heartfelt moment, reminiscing about their childhood. Gun playfully reaffirms his childhood dream of not just becoming a world star, but the universe's star. Shin, touched by the memory, promises to fulfill that dream for him. But Gun, ever the older brother, turns the tables, urging Shin to pursue his own dreams. "Winning isn’t what’s important," Gun reminds him. "What matters is doing something that truly makes you happy."
The next morning, Joo-yeon and Gun's words echo in Shin’s mind as he steps onto the competition field. In an unprecedented moment, he drops a serve—eliciting shocked gasps from the crowd, who can’t fathom the flawless tennis prince making such an error. Despite the stumble, Shin still wins the match, but when his mother scolds him afterward, he does something unexpected—he walks out on his scheduled appointments. For the first time, Shin decides to take a break—on his own terms.
While the crowd is engrossed in the match, Joo-yeon faces a new crisis—her higher-ups are demanding the critical work documents she was supposed to submit. In the whirlwind of recent events, the task had completely slipped her mind. With no way to retrieve her suitcase from the amnesiac Gun, Joo-yeon resorts to a clever ruse, sweet-talking her way into getting the house passcode from Mom. But just as she’s sneaking out with the suitcase, Gun arrives home. Uh-oh.
We’ll have to wait until next week to see how Joo-yeon gets out of this one. But in the meantime, a fresh face shakes things up. Joo-yeon wakes up to find an unexpected roommate—JEON SAE-YAN (Yang Hye-ji), who’s snuggled up beside her. One grumpy breakfast later, Joo-yeon learns that Sae-yan is Mom’s friend’s daughter, and though she barely remembers, they were childhood friends before Sae-yan moved abroad. With her bubbly personality, Sae-yan quickly wins over the entire neighborhood, much to Joo-yeon’s irritation.
Despite Sae-yan’s attempts to rekindle their old friendship, Joo-yeon remains frostily distant. Sae-yan can’t help but lament that Joo-yeon is self-centered and irritable—and honestly, she’s not wrong. Whether it’s due to Jin Se-yeon’s portrayal or the character’s writing, Joo-yeon comes across as petty and clueless, and not in a charming way.
Mom reveals that Joo-yeon’s cold exterior is just a facade—a shield she built after witnessing her father’s death as a child. Terrified of experiencing that kind of pain again, Joo-yeon keeps people at a distance as a form of self-preservation. While her trauma doesn’t justify her behavior, it does shed light on why she acts the way she does. Hopefully, the drama will delve into this aspect of her character with the seriousness it deserves.
Meanwhile, Gun’s playful antics mask a deeper wisdom. Despite discovering Joo-yeon’s feelings for Teo, Gun has been quietly looking out for her without overstepping. In a tender gesture, he leaves her a note encouraging her to rest, signing it as Teo, knowing she’d be more likely to follow that advice if she thought it came from him. Gun is also making moves of his own—he’s started his own agency, brought Shi-on on board, and even scheduled rehab for her injured knee. Here’s hoping he can free his brother Shin from the clutches of the manipulative Director Hong soon. Shin deserves to pursue tennis on his own terms—if that’s even what he still wants.
DramaZen's Opinion
Well, it looks like my predictions were a bit off last week—I thought the new girl might be Joo-Yeon’s sister, but it turns out she’s actually the daughter of Mom’s friend and an old childhood playmate of Joo-Yeon. However, Joo-Yeon isn’t exactly thrilled about rekindling their friendship.
Meanwhile, my heart still aches for Gun as he struggles to piece together his lost memories and navigate his new life. Despite the flamboyant persona he’s adopted since the surgery, there’s still a soft, caring side to him, especially when it comes to Joo-Yeon, whom he believes is his first love. It was adorable—and a little heartbreaking—how he tried to protect her from the womanizing crush, even though he knew the guy was trouble.
As for the mother, I still can’t find any sympathy for her. She’s done serious damage to her sons with her overbearing parenting style, and the father isn’t much better. He tries to stand up to her occasionally, but ultimately, he always bends to her will.
As for Shin, now that we’ve glimpsed some of his backstory, I’m beginning to feel a bit of sympathy for him. His struggles are real, but it’s hard to shake the feeling that what his older brother Gun endured was even more harrowing. That said, trauma isn’t something you can easily measure or compare—everyone’s pain is valid in its own way. At this point, I’m really hoping these two brothers can find a way to reconnect, join forces, and face their challenges together!
Now, here’s the real kicker: Could Sae-yan actually be Gun’s real first love, the one Shin was seen kissing in the car? If that’s the case, what kind of chaos will unfold when the truth finally comes out?