Villain from Vincenzo, Ok Taec-yeon, to star in his first BL role in upcoming Netflix series

There’s something disarming about seeing someone who once terrified you on screen now holding out his hand for love.

For years, Ok Taec-yeon has been many things to many people: idol, heartthrob, villain, and soldier. He was the twisted mastermind behind Vincenzo’s most cold-blooded acts, hiding malice behind a toothy grin. Now, in a surprising but quietly powerful turn, he’s stepping into his first Boys’ Love role in the upcoming Japanese Netflix series Soul Mate.

This isn’t just a genre shift. It’s a soft revolution in how Asian entertainment allows its stars to be seen as full, complex, emotionally open human beings. For Taec-yeon, it’s not a pivot for shock value or reinvention. It feels like an evolution, years in the making, and maybe the most honest step in a career that’s always danced between image and identity.

From 2PM to serious drama: the making of Taec-yeon

It was onstage, not in front of the camera, that Taec-yeon's narrative began. His 2008 debut with the boy group 2PM catapulted him into the spotlight of second-generation K-pop music.

Strong choreography, a ripped body, and an uncontrolled masculinity were hallmarks of 2PM's distinctive beastly image, which stood in stark contrast with the polished, pretty-boy fashion of the era. Stunning good looks, natural charisma, and contagious energy made him impossible to ignore, even if he wasn't the main singer.

Unlike many idols chasing fame on a loop, Taec-yeon’s focus began to shift. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned into acting. Early roles in Cinderella’s Stepsister and Dream High hinted at potential, but the shadow of the idol-turned-actor label lingered. It took time and a willingness to embrace riskier, darker roles for audiences to really see what he could do.

That turning point came in Vincenzo (2021), where Taec-yeon played Jang Jun-woo, a seemingly harmless intern whose clumsy charm masked something far more sinister. The twist that he was, in fact, the show’s central villain landed like a gut punch.

It wasn’t just that he played evil. He made it calculated, charismatic, and chilling in a way that was unforgettable. It wasn’t just that he played evil. It was that he made it charming, calculated, and deeply disturbing. For many, it was the performance that redefined him as an actor.

Entering the BL world: why Soul Mate matters

When Netflix announced Soul Mate, a Japanese Boys’ Love drama starring Taec-yeon and Hayato Isomura, it wasn’t just another casting update. It was a statement. Known for playing powerful or morally complex men, Taec-yeon was now taking on a role that required vulnerability, tenderness, and emotional intimacy between two men. That alone would have been enough to turn heads, but the fact that this is a Japanese production starring a Korean idol makes it even more significant.

In Soul Mate, Taec-yeon plays Johan Hwang, a Korean boxer living in Berlin who rescues Ryu Narutaki, portrayed by Alice in Borderland star Hayato Isomura, from a fire in a church. What follows is a connection that stretches across three cities and ten years in a story about healing and about a love that doesn’t erupt in dramatic declarations but grows slowly through shared silence, pain, and hope.

The show is directed by Shunki Hashizume, known for More Than Words, who has spent the past few years carving out space for nuanced queer narratives in Japanese media. According to Netflix’s official announcement, the creators wanted to tell a story of love that transcends borders, time, and language, and casting someone like Taec-yeon was a deliberate choice.

He is not just famous. He is someone who carries the weight of expectations from fans, from industry peers, and from Korea’s deeply conservative image of masculinity. Choosing this project is a bold move, but not a reckless one. It feels like a response to a world that is slowly opening its heart.

More than just a role

In South Korea, public figures are often expected to maintain a carefully managed image, one that conforms to rigid ideals of masculinity, patriotism, and professionalism. Taec-yeon, a Seoul National University graduate and former military service model citizen, has long been seen as the poster boy for doing things “the right way.” When he gave up his U.S. green card to enlist, it was considered a patriotic move that solidified his status as an exemplary figure in the idol industry.

But choosing to play a queer romantic lead, especially in a Japanese BL series, is not the kind of decision that fits neatly within those traditional expectations. This is not a Korean drama playing it safe within domestic norms. Korean media, despite its worldwide significance, nevertheless frequently avoids being emotionally vulnerable and open when portraying queer characters in their work. This cross-cultural effort takes advantage of that.

Even if the genre has its own set of problems and tropes, Japanese BL dramas have made room for exploring same-sex relationships for quite some time. What makes Soul Mate stand out is that it is not a high school romance or a fantasy setup. It is a grounded, emotional narrative about adult men healing from trauma, finding connection, and building trust across time and space. And Taec-yeon is at the center of it.

This move also aligns with a subtle but growing trend of K-pop idols breaking free from their tightly scripted personas. In the past few years, artists like Holland and Hoshi have spoken more openly about identity, emotional expression, and gender fluidity, even if not always in explicitly queer terms. And while Taec-yeon has not publicly discussed his own views on these issues, his willingness to step into a role like Johan speaks volumes.

It tells us that he is not afraid to challenge what people expect of him. It tells us that he is more interested in stories that matter than in staying within the safe confines of fan-approved roles. And in a landscape where image is everything, that kind of choice is rare and quietly revolutionary.

Reactions, resonance, and the road to release

The announcement of Soul Mate came quietly, without flashy trailers or viral teasers. But the buzz started almost immediately. International fans of Taec-yeon were the first to take notice, surprised but intrigued. After all, it is not every day that a mainstream K-pop idol takes on a BL role in a Japanese production. The comments were a mix of curiosity, admiration, and cautious excitement. Some could not believe it was real. Others were already setting reminders for the premiere.

In South Korea, the reaction was more complex. While younger audiences and BL fans praised Taec-yeon’s boldness, the more conservative corners of online discourse questioned the decision. Not in an aggressive backlash, but in a kind of cultural pause, with people unsure how to categorize what he had just done. That in itself is revealing. In an industry where silence is often safer than sincerity, Taec-yeon’s choice left people with nothing to weaponize. He did not make it a statement. He just did the work.

Japanese audiences, meanwhile, welcomed the casting of Taec-yeon with a sense of pride and curiosity. There has always been a cultural exchange between Korean and Japanese entertainment, but seeing a Korean star lead a Japanese BL series still feels like a boundary being crossed in the best way. It opens up a space where identities and languages can overlap and enrich each other, not clash.

And Netflix knows exactly what it is doing. By releasing Soul Mate globally, the platform is tapping into the increasing appetite for emotionally rich, queer-centered stories. The fact that Taec-yeon is attached gives the project immediate visibility, but it is the intimacy and grounded emotion of the story that might just make it a breakout hit.

Final verdict: a quiet risk, a powerful message

Taec-yeon has nothing to prove. He has already built a successful career across two industries, moved effortlessly from music to acting, played both comic relief and cold-blooded villain, and earned respect in a country that does not hand it out easily. That is exactly what makes this next move so compelling. He is not doing this for redemption, or reinvention, or even relevance. He is doing it because it means something. And because it is time.

Soul Mate may not be loud. It might not set records or dominate hashtags. But in choosing to lead it, Taec-yeon is making a quiet kind of history, one that does not announce itself with a slogan but with open eyes, open hearts, and a willingness to let people see another side. Maybe even a truer one.

For fans, this is a gift. For the industry, it is a nudge. And for Taec-yeon, it feels like freedom.