How Does The Billionaire'S Son In Low Change Throughout The Series?

Watching Choi Seo-joon evolve in 'Low' was like seeing a spoiled brat get a reality check in slow motion. At first, he's this insufferable rich kid who thinks money fixes everything—throwing tantrums when his dad cuts him off, flaunting designer clothes like they're armor. But man, the way life humbles him is satisfying. Losing his trust fund forces him to confront how useless he actually is without wealth. My favorite moment? When he gets a part-time job and realizes how hard regular people work for a fraction of what he used to spend on sushi. By the end, there's this quiet maturity—he starts valuing relationships over status symbols, even reconciles with his dad on human terms, not financial ones. It’s not a full 180, but you believe the change because he still slips up, still has entitlement flashes—that’s what makes it feel real.

What really got me was how the show parallels his growth with the working-class characters. Early on, he mocks their 'peasant problems,' but later, he’s the one getting schooled by them about resilience. The scene where he apologizes to the convenience store coworker he once looked down on? Choked me up. The series doesn’t romanticize poverty as some moral teacher, though—it shows how privilege lingers (he’s still got safety nets), but now he knows it’s privilege. That self-awareness? That’s the real transformation.

Seo-joon’s arc in 'Low' hit close to home for me because it’s less about 'becoming a good person' and more about shedding illusions. At first, he’s like a walking Gucci ad with zero empathy—remember when he tried to bribe his way out of a DUI? Classic rich-kid logic. But the brilliance is in how small the turning points are. It’s not some dramatic epiphany; it’s him noticing how his dad’s employees flinch when he yells, or the way his 'friends' ghost him once his credit cards decline. The show nails how privilege blinds you to subtle cues.

What I love is how his style changes visually too. Early episodes have him in loud logos, but by season 2, he’s in worn-in sneakers and plain tees—still expensive, but understated. That wardrobe shift mirrors his internal one: less about proving status, more about figuring out who he is without it. The writing avoids easy redemption though—he’s still flawed, just… trying. Like when he donates anonymously instead of seeking praise? Growth.