 |
You have seen the photos and videos. But now, let’s debrief (and more like fondly relive) why Ju Ji Hoon’s fan meet, Juniverse, was refreshingly authentic.
I was 18 when I first saw Ju Ji Hoon on TV as the Crown Prince Lee Shin in Princess Hours. And I admit, I was Team Prince Yul at that time. Shin’s character felt too cold, too detached, a bit too put-together to be swoon-worthy. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t celebrate when Shin Chae-kyeong finally got her fairytale ending.
Back then, I didn’t quite realize that Ju Ji Hoon was doing something deliberate. He wasn’t just playing a romantic lead. He was subtly redefining what a Korean male character could be: not necessarily soft or sugary, but complex, emotionally restrained, and quietly magnetic.
Years later, after attending digital press conferences for Blood Free and The Lightshop Keeper for Disney+, I began to see the pattern. Ju Ji Hoon wasn’t just a star avoiding cliché roles. He was, and still is, challenging the global gaze on Korean masculinity. Less caricature, more character. Less charm offensive, more layered presence.
And then came Manila. And everything… shifted.
I volunteered to cover the event out of nostalgia, and, admittedly, because I knew a few friends would be attending. Like always, I approached it as an assignment. Work first, kilig optional. As expected, Wilbros Live delivered a pre-show experience where fans could mingle, take photos, and soak up the excitement.
Newport Performing Arts Theater felt like the perfect setting for Juniverse, elegant, intimate, and luxurious. A space worthy of the superstar that Ju Ji Hoon is. It wasn’t flashy, but refined, much like the man himself. At that point, I knew what kind of evening to expect: a classy show with polished but heartfelt moments.
I expected him to sing, eventually, but not right at the start. And certainly not again at the very end. I assumed there would be games with fans, but I didn’t anticipate just how many interactions we’d witness. I thought there might be a few lucky selfies, but not one with every single fan who came on stage. What truly fascinated me was the care he put into each moment, checking the phone or the Polaroid to make sure the photo turned out well, as if he genuinely wanted each fan to walk away with something they could treasure.
Even during the program, he assisted host Sam Oh in every way he could: flipping boards, holding props, quietly anticipating what she might need. Not to steal the spotlight. Not to make us swoon. But simply because helping comes naturally to him. Because he gives, even before he’s asked.
I expected him to approach the audience, maybe wave from a distance. I did not predict Ju Ji Hoon to walk into the crowd, gently pulling the hands of fans, even those seated at the back, just to reach them. I didn’t anticipate him stretching across rows, angling for photos, all while keeping a steady, warm smile in his eyes.
Ji Hoon stayed composed, even in the most playful moments, like a man grounded in conviction, yet never devoid of warmth. His presence reminded me of a stable kind of love: the kind that doesn’t rely on theatrics to be felt, but reveals itself through quiet consistency. His masculine energy didn’t come from dominance, but from intention. And whenever he smiled, teased, or laughed with us, you could tell his heart was doing the same.
Each time he spoke, whether it was to call a supporter by name or to answer a question with surprising sincerity, you could tell he was genuinely trying to engage. And that kind of openness? It can’t be rehearsed. There are no retakes at a fan meeting. You either show up with honesty, or you don’t. Ju Ji Hoon did, fully.
At this age, I no longer fall for charm that’s loud or affection that feels scripted. But Ju Ji Hoon didn’t need either. He reminded us that fan service doesn’t require spectacle, that even at a Hallyu event, an actor can ground you in something deeper. That taking care of yourself begins with your body, and from there, grows into the most enduring kind of health. That a man can be composed yet warm, playful yet grounded, admired yet still deeply human.
Inside that theater, he didn’t demand attention; he earned it. In every conversation and interaction, without ever losing his essence.
To me, he is not just the fan service king. Not just the oppa to adore. He’s a man who showed up fully, unique, sincere, and with grace. And for that, Ju Ji Hoon will always be a king.
Photos from Wilbros Live Facebook page.