Let's talk about Peach’s relationship with money and food.
The writing here is top-tier; it’s one of those rare scripts where the themes are woven into the character's DNA.
But first, I have to revisit my post on that specific product placement. It wasn't just an ad—it was a brilliant plot device that set the stage for everything we know about Peach’s values.
- The camera store scene in Episode 1 is a perfect example of Peach's core values. By telling the kid to "borrow" the camera and return it later, he is preserving the boy's dignity. He refuses to create a power imbalance where he is the "savior" and the kid is the "debtor." For Peach, money is just a tool for help, whereas for Thee, money is the ultimate source of dominance and control. It’s the first hint we get that their internal moral compasses are pointing in opposite directions.
- Peach’s core conflict with Thee is about transactionalism. Whether it's the 10-million check or the 10,000-baht lunch "fee," Peach finds Thee’s habit of throwing money at problems dehumanizing. Peach's anger stems from the fact that paying for someone's time or loyalty without emotional presence is objectifying. He doesn't see lavish gifts or "buying places" as romantic; he sees them as relational shortcuts. He refuses to let his affection be treated like a commodity. For him, if the sincerity isn't there, the money is just an insult.
- The narrative uses food to represent shared humanity. Peach views a meal as a sacred space for connection. We see this when he casually invites Mok to join them, or when he focuses on making sure Thee is fed. This is why his reaction to the grill incident is so telling: he doesn't care about the literal burn; he cares about the shattered trust. In Peach’s world, to feed someone is to offer yourself, and to have that hand pushed away is a profound emotional rejection. The BBQ scene isn't about an accident; it’s about Thee’s inability to accept Peach’s care without suspicion.
- Peach suffers from a classic case of "luxury guilt." He can enjoy a five-star meal while simultaneously being stressed out by the 10,000-baht price tag. He doesn't believe in indulgence for its own sake. This shows that his internal compass is set to pragmatism: pleasure is fine as long as it’s earned and proportionate. Anything beyond that feels wasteful, imbalanced, and fundamentally unsettling.
- Gratitude over compensation: this is the lesson Peach is "forcing" Thee to learn. By rejecting Thee's money and asking only for a "thank you," Peach is redefining what it means to be indebted. He’s showing Thee that emotional accountability—sincerity, apologies, and presence—is the highest form of currency. He’s proving that while Thee’s money can buy influence, it can’t buy the kind of respect that comes from genuine humility.
- The chocolate scene proves that money without understanding is meaningless. The custom-shaped chocolate is clearly expensive and perfectly tailored to Peach’s taste, yet he gives it away because he doesn’t realize it was intended for him. He only values it after he understands the sentiment behind it. This highlights that a gift’s worth isn’t in its price tag, but in its clarity of intent. In this relationship, emotional literacy far outweighs financial precision.
- Peach’s worldview is a direct challenge to the show's social hierarchy. While others are blinded by status, he sees through it. When he asks Thee how they are actually any different, it’s a total subversion of power. Peach views wealth as an external factor rather than a defining trait. This allows him to stand his ground against Thee’s influence; he simply doesn’t buy into the idea that Thee’s money or family name gives him moral authority.
Why does money make Peach insecure only after he falls for Thee?
The tragedy of his character is the contradiction: he has a clear head about money until he has feelings for someone. Love turns his moral certainty into financial insecurity.
Peach’s insecurity regarding Thee’s wealth isn't about a political stance; it’s about relational safety. For Peach, money and food are tied to attachment and worth. He doesn’t have an issue with wealth in a vacuum—he has an issue with what money does to the people involved. Once feelings are on the line, the wealth becomes a power imbalance that triggers his fear of being easily replaced or "bought" rather than truly seen.
Money makes Peach insecure because it creates a fundamental imbalance. It threatens their mutuality and activates his lifelong belief that he must minimize his own needs to be worthy of love. Wealth risks turning affection into indebtedness, a constant reminder of the asymmetry in their lives: it makes him feel replaceable, while Thee remains the one with all the power.
Why?
Because love introduces comparison, dependency, and the fear of loss. Peach’s core wound is the belief that he must never take too much. He didn't just grow up poor in a financial sense; he grew up impoverished in permission. Between the orphanage and raising Plub, he learned a strict code: don’t ask, don’t need, and never take more than is strictly necessary. He was taught that love is conditional on his own usefulness and restraint. This created a specific internal rule: "If I take too much, I’m selfish; if I receive too much, I owe too much." This explains everything—from the cheap snacks to his discomfort with servants and Thee’s wealth. It’s not class shame; it’s moral survival conditioning.
There is a much deeper layer to the "cheapest snack" analysis. Choosing the least expensive item isn't just about not wanting to "owe" anyone—it’s Peach saying, "Please don’t love me in a way that requires me to become smaller." Luxury forces him into a subordinate guest position, whereas the cheapest snack allows him to remain human-sized. This is Peach protecting his autonomy and his dignity. It isn't modesty; it’s existential boundary-setting.
Why does abundance feel so threatening to Peach? It’s because he views food as a metric of reciprocity. When food is shared as equals, it’s a form of care; but when it is provided in excess by a staff of butlers, it becomes a demonstration of power. Peach finds himself in a position where he cannot match the effort or control the environment. To Peach, those extra dishes aren't treats; they are invisible debts. He feels morally overdrafted, and his guilt completely eclipses his enjoyment.
In Episode 7, when Peach tells Thee, "There’s no bathtub here, no butlers, nothing at all," he isn’t just being self-deprecating. He’s checking for conditional love. What he’s really asking is: "If I strip away the comforts you’re used to, will you still want me?" He is testing for resentment.
Remember: Peach has been abandoned before—not for being a bad person, but for being “too quiet” or “too boring.” He assumes he is an eventual inconvenience. This is defensive pessimism. He frames his life by its “absences” because he’s waiting for the moment Thee realizes the “standard of living” has dropped too far. He doesn’t say, “I have this instead,” because a scarcity mindset makes it hard to see your own value. To Peach, love has always been something you have to earn by being “better,” and he’s terrified that, just as he is, he is a disappointment. That is the voice of the orphanage talking. He doesn’t believe his mere presence is enough.
Before feelings were involved, money was just money—something he could argue against with confidence. But after falling in love, money becomes a measuring stick. It’s not a conscious process; it’s subconscious. He begins asking questions he can never quite articulate: What do I contribute that can’t be bought? If I fail, how replaceable am I? Am I a partner or just a temporary experience? This is why Peach suddenly starts talking about "place" and "separate worlds." While those sound like class-based distinctions, they are actually proxies for attachment. Peach isn’t comparing bank accounts; he’s comparing existential weight. He’s not saying "I don’t want you." He’s saying "I don’t know where I’m allowed to stand."
In Episode 6, the "kiss followed by a push" isn't about a lack of desire; it’s about loss of control. Peach gives consent, but then pushes Thee away because the kiss collapses his last safe boundary. While friendship allowed for distance, romance forces Peach to confront the power imbalance and the weight of future consequences. He brings their "different worlds" because it's a safer narrative than admitting he's scared of how much Thee affects him. He pushes Thee away to re-establish a boundary before he loses himself entirely. It's not a "no" to Thee—it's a "wait" to the overwhelming feeling of needing him.
The orphanage visit in Episode 8 is the definitive turning point. This is where Peach’s insecurity peaks—and finally begins to heal. He brings Thee to the one place where he feels most vulnerable to rejection; the place that, in his mind, proves he has nothing "impressive" to offer. When Thee responds with gratitude, sincerity, and marriage talk (in his characteristically dramatic way), Peach’s deepest fear finally surfaces: "Are you afraid that I would feel repulsed by you because you grew up there?" His answer tells us everything, "I didn’t want to think about it, but I couldn’t help it." Peach’s insecurity was never about money or status. It was about his fundamental worthiness of love.
Peach doesn't accept Thee because he grows fond of the mafia lifestyle. He accepts him because Thee makes that lifestyle background noise. By eating simple meals, wearing his clothes and sleeping in a cramped bed, Thee proves he values Peach more than his own comfort. He trades control for connection and protection for partnership. This is the only "language" Peach trusts, and it’s the only reason he finally lets his guard down.
At its core, this story is about the cost of belonging. Peach loves with a sense of heavy responsibility, and Thee’s world is a threat to his autonomy. The real arc here is Peach realizing that love isn't a debt to be settled. He is learning that he doesn't have to diminish his own light to fit into Thee's life. The show's true heart isn't the wealth gap; it’s the struggle of a man who survived by being invisible trying to learn how to stay and be seen.
The confrontation with Thee’s father isn't just a typical "brave boyfriend" moment—it’s the final evolution of Peach’s relationship with class, money, and self-worth.
This is the payoff for everything I’ve analyzed so far. I want to look at this with a high degree of precision, because there is so much happening beneath the surface.
On the surface, Peach is polite and deferential, but it’s a mask for his newfound strength. He isn’t asking for permission to love Thee; instead, he’s asking if the family is “ready for him.” He’s reclaiming the narrative. It’s the ultimate subversion: he isn’t asking for a seat at the table; he’s asking if the table is strong enough to hold him. This is relational clarity at its finest. He has stopped asking, “Am I enough?” and started asking whether they are capable of respecting his choices. After a lifetime of making himself small to be loved, Peach has officially stopped shrinking to fit into other people’s expectations.
When Peach says, "After having people follow us all this time..." he is finally naming the price he’s already paid. He is acknowledging that he has already accepted the surveillance, the danger, and the total loss of privacy. In other words, he’s saying: "I didn’t go into this blindly." This is Peach asserting his informed consent—a value he holds dear throughout the series. He isn't just being brave; he’s being deeply responsible for his own choices.
The line "Do you think I’m qualified enough to be here?" is easily mistaken for insecurity, but it’s actually the opposite. Peach is deliberately using their language. "Qualified" is a class-based word—a tool for gatekeeping—and Peach uses it to expose how empty it really is. By framing it as a question, he isn't seeking approval; he’s interrogating their standards. What he says next proves that he’s already decided his own worth, regardless of their answer.
"If I said no, would you break up with Kian?" This is the ultimate test, and Peach’s response is the most important line in his entire arc. When he says he would ask what he’s lacking so he can improve until he’s ready to stand by Thee, it isn't an act of submission; it’s an assertion of resilience. We’ve seen Peach minimize himself to survive love before, but this is different—this is active expansion. By refusing to say he would walk away, he is essentially telling the father that his place by Thee’s side is non-negotiable. He isn't shrinking to avoid conflict; he is leveling up to meet the challenge. He’s stopped trying to be “good enough” to be accepted and started focusing on being strong enough to stay. That is a massive psychological shift—from compliance to commitment.
In both scenes with the parents, there is no money offered, no wealth flaunted, and no transaction implied. Because of this, Peach is completely at ease. He is finally standing in a space where love is acknowledged as a reality and the choice has already been made. Since no one is trying to "buy" his compliance, he can speak with total clarity. He isn't a commodity to be negotiated; he's a partner being recognized.
When Peach says, "I promise I won’t damage your family’s reputation," it might look submissive on the surface. It isn't. It’s Peach translating his values into their language. He doesn't say, "I’ll obey" or "I’ll endure anything." Instead, he’s saying, "I will not be careless with what you care about." This is his core character trait: he treats everyone’s "precious things" with the same level of respect. It’s not about being lower in the hierarchy—it’s about his personal commitment to integrity.
The father’s response finally explains why Peach was never “less” than the rest of them. When he says, “You’re like Kian’s mom,” it isn’t just empty flattery; he’s recognizing the same unconditional resolve. He sees that Peach doesn’t need to control Thee in order to love him, that he knowingly accepts the costs of that love, and that he doesn’t need guarantees to stay. He finally understands that Peach meets the Lee family’s true moral standard: a loyalty that transcends money, and Peach embodies it more fully than anyone else.
When the father said, "How could the Lee family’s reputation be more important than the family’s happiness?" it effectively kills the entire "money anxiety" thread. This line confirms exactly what Peach needed to hear: his worth isn't conditional on his status. He isn't being evaluated as an asset, and he isn't being dismissed as a liability. This is the moment Peach finally stops defending his own existence.
Peach’s evolution is beautiful: he starts by believing he has to minimize himself to be lovable, moves into an era of doubt about his place in Thee’s life, and finally reaches a point of absolute clarity by asserting, “I am here because I chose to be.” He realizes his belonging isn’t a gift from the Lee family—it’s a result of his own agency. He has moved beyond the “humble orphan” trope and into a state of self-possession. He isn’t disappearing into the Lee family; he’s standing his ground within it.