Khadim Zaman

What’s worse: the predictability of these tropes that show up in nearly every Korean drama, or the fact that I wrote down this list practically from memory?

A crucial misunderstanding — a missed call, a misheard conversation — threatens to ruin everything. Always just before the moment of happiness.
The guy opens his umbrella to shield the girl from the rain.
In a heroic reflex, he pulls her away from an oncoming scooter or car.
She invites him over for a cup of instant ramen; even though they do nothing but eat noodles, the subtext is clear: this is the Korean version of ‘Netflix and chill’ — a coded invitation with a sexual undertone.
The first snowfall of the year marks the moment lovers meet or something magical happens between them.
Flashbacks reveal they’ve actually met before — sometimes even as toddlers — because fate has long been bringing them together.
In the car, the guy (or in progressive dramas, the girl) leans over to buckle the other’s seatbelt: a protective gesture, but mostly a moment of simmering closeness.
They turn out to be neighbors as well as coworkers or classmates, completely by coincidence, of course.
The second lead is always perfect — caring, loyal, stable — but never chosen.
One of them trips and falls, the other catches them. They end up in an awkward pose with intense eye contact.
Someone drinks too much soju and has to be taken home, usually ending in a romantic piggyback ride.
They pretend to be a couple — for parents, to make an ex jealous, or because of a contract — but feelings quickly become real.
Someone ends up in the hospital, the other stays up all night by their bedside. Hands are held. No words are spoken, but everything is understood.
Due to rain or an accident, someone has to change clothes and ends up wearing the other’s oversized shirt or sweater. With an awkward, shy look included.
After a painful breakup, a time jump of a few years follows. At the unexpected reunion, it turns out the feelings never went away.