novelraw Chapter 218: Informal Speech Time
Chapter 218: Informal Speech Time
I tried to ask what exactly they wanted to do but failed. Park Joowoo’s hand was still clamped over my mouth.
Honestly, it felt like Park Joowoo really wanted to crush my lower jaw into dust. If he had a problem with me, I wish he’d just say it.
I heard the sound of a bag zipper opening in the distance. Kang Kiyeon asked in a small voice,
“Should I turn on the lights?”
“Yeah, just the ones by the door.”
When half the room lit up, the source of the sound became clear. Jeong Seongbin had taken out a camcorder and was turning it on.
“Wha’ doin’?”
Even though my words were completely muffled, Jeong Seongbin somehow understood and replied,
“Well, since we’re playing. I thought I’d film it!”
Such a commendable kid. Must have learned from the best; his professional spirit was truly outstanding.We attached camcorders to each of the mounts the production crew had temporarily installed for their cameras—Spark always carried a camcorder per person—and gathered in a circle in the middle of the room.
“The person who suggested playing should give us an idea. What do you want to do?”
At my words, Lee Cheonghyeon shouted as if he’d been waiting,
“We trained together and we’re even rooming together now? That means it’s time for informal speech time!”
Informal speech time?
You mean that elusive dream of every office worker? The unreachable fantasy, the false hope, the trap disguised as liberation?
I’d done it a lot in my head when I’d lain down to sleep. All it ever led to was a stream of curses. Probably every working adult would relate to my ‘internal informal time’.
“You’re being incredibly brazen with your insubordination, aren’t you?”
Kang Kiyeon muttered in disbelief. He probably didn’t expect his friend, the maknae, to suggest an informal speech time with four older members.
“If not now, then when? Kang Kiyeon, are you going to keep saying ‘yes, yes’ to your hyungs forever?”
“Isn’t Kang Kiyeon not really the type to do that, though?”
“Jeho hyung, for your own sake, you might want to shut it before the informal speech time begins.”
Lee Cheonghyeon warned him in a chilling tone.
“Still, shouldn’t you get permission from your hyungs for something like this, Cheonghyeon?”
Jeong Seongbin, who had been observing the atmosphere, quickly intervened.
Permission, huh? Honestly, even if it wasn’t for content, I didn’t really care about informal time.
There were plenty of companies that called each other by name without honorifics because they were supposedly horizontal organizations. Although it was a bit bizarre to drop honorifics while still using formal speech.
The real problem was that these guys absolutely sucked at informal time.
The Spark self-produced content ~Informal Time Edition~ that I saw in the past was excruciatingly awkward.
Jeong Seongbin just stared at the floor, Kang Kiyeon kept chugging down water, and Park Joowoo ended up spitting his drink everywhere after Choi Jeho asked him, ‘Hyung, give me some water too’.
Would it be really okay to willingly walk into such a cringe-fest again?
“I don’t mind, but do you really think it’ll be fun?”
Here, Choi Jeho finally raised a good point. Even a broken clock is right twice a day; you do make a good point once in a while. I’ll forgive your previous transgression.
“Wouldn’t it be fun? I have a lot to say to you hyungs.”
“Ah, me too…”
Following Lee Cheonghyeon, Park Joowoo shyly confessed. Maybe my lower jaw really was on the verge of shattering.
Wait, so the thing you two were preparing for the training camp was informal time? You guys are so innocent.
Still, as a true adult in Confucian South Korea, it was only right to give the younger ones a chance to speak their minds to their elders.
“Alright, let’s do it. Let’s get everything off your chests.”
“Yes!”
Lee Cheonghyeon cheered. Then he pulled a large blanket from the floor.
“If you think something might be unsuitable for broadcast, say it under the blanket. Then the company can just edit it out.”
“You planning to scream obscenities or something?”
Choi Jeho recoiled in disgust.
“We’ll see.”
Lee Cheonghyeon’s eyes gleamed with madness. Maybe I shouldn’t have allowed this guy to have an informal time. I wanted to rewind my decision from a few seconds ago.
* * *
The rules for Spark’s informal time were simple.
First, among members of the same age, they would remain as equals, regardless of who was born earlier.
Second, no holding grudges afterward.
Third, since the younger ones were already free to use formal speech, the older ones could also choose whether or not to speak formally—whatever was more comfortable.
Lastly, if they felt they were about to say something inappropriate for broadcast, they should speak under the blanket.
“Should we set a time limit? Would 5 minutes be enough?”
“Seongbin hyung, why are you being so stingy? Even karaoke gives you an extra 10 minutes.”
“We have plenty of time, so let’s do it for 30 minutes.”
The guys stared at me with wide eyes at my suggestion. They seemed surprised that I would make such an offer.
“What are you looking at? I’m not stingy with informal time.”
“But hyung, you bow 90 degrees to elders, use super-honorifics with company staff, and still can’t make a heart with one hand for the fans.”
“I can’t just go around being a reckless savage wearing a human mask, can I?”
In any case, the informal time started haphazardly as Jeong Seongbin pressed the timer.
They’d probably just make me and Choi Jeho do a few errands or throw in some cringey aegyo requests.
No matter what they came up with, I wasn’t going to be flustered. Do you know how many tears I’ve shed adding effects to your boring-as-hell content?
I couldn’t let the Sparklers go through that kind of pain. I would do my best.
Just as I was steeling myself, Park Joowoo abruptly stood up.
Then, he walked towards Choi Jeho, sat behind him, and rested his chin on Choi Jeho’s shoulder.
“Jeho.”
“What?”
“Have you thought about what I said about starting a band?”
Park Joowoo’s gently curved eyes were fixed.
That cool, resolute, and straightforward gaze.
No doubt about it. This was the ‘limited-time sniper’ version of Park Joowoo, which had only appeared three times in Spark’s seven years of activity.
“…What did you ask me to do again?”
Choi Jeho asked in a hesitant voice. Park Joowoo answered without missing a beat.
“Drums.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You said that last time too.”
Park Joowoo was firm. As Choi Jeho tried to subtly distance himself, Park Joowoo slowly followed.
“You’ll do it, right?”
“…”
“Your physique is perfect for it.”
“If physique is the issue, there’s Kim Iwol too.”
“Iwol has to play bass…”
Park Joowoo’s gaze shifted to me. A shiver ran down my spine.
“I’m looking forward to it…”
Park Joowoo smiled brightly. Choi Jeho facepalmed. He seemed dumbfounded by Park Joowoo’s forceful persuasion.
As I was internally sympathizing with Choi Jeho, someone put their arm around my shoulder. I turned to see Lee Cheonghyeon looking at me, his face radiating a transparent glow after washing up.
Lee Cheonghyeon’s hand grabbed my chin. More precisely, his thumb and index finger pushed up my cheeks like someone showing off a puppy’s chubby cheeks.
Of course, I had no cheeks to show off. If I did, I’d be out running on the field, not sitting here doing this informal time nonsense.
‘What is this guy even doing?’
As I stared at him bewildered, Lee Cheonghyeon smiled like the sun.
“Oh dear, look at how handsome our Iwol is!”
“…What are you doing, hyung?”
“No, our Iwol’s face is especially radiant today.”
Did this guy secretly take something?
Ignoring my dumbfounded expression, Lee Cheonghyeon turned my face left and right, spouting outrageous lies. They say excessive praise is teasing, and this was textbook material.
After a few more absurd comments, Lee Cheonghyeon’s expression suddenly turned serious.
“No, this isn’t it!”
“What are you trying to do?”
“I wanted to imitate your cheesy lines, you know? But it’s not easy. It lacks flavor.”
“Hyung, that’s because you’re doing it to tease me, while I speak from the heart. Of course there’s a difference.”
“Yes, that’s what’s different!”
Lee Cheonghyeon sighed.
“I want to compliment you in an over-the-top way! But also mock you! But also make it feel sincere!”
“…That’s a tough balance.”
Park Joowoo agreed, seemingly trying to match the mood of Lee Cheonghyeon, the unofficial elder.
“Iwol’s commentary are hard to imitate. Iwol is unique in that aspect. Whenever I hear him talk, I honestly think Iwol’s amazing.”
Kang Kiyeon said, meticulously inserting my name into every sentence. His expression didn’t change, but I could tell he was enjoying this.
After that, they took turns holding a ‘Kim Iwol Imitation Contest’. They even dragged Choi Jeho into it. I wouldn’t even bother describing how bizarre Choi Jeho’s cheesy lines were.
“Ugh… None of these really hit the mark.”
Lee Cheonghyeon seemed genuinely disappointed. He probably suggested this informal time just to do this.
At that moment. Jeong Seongbin subtly stepped forward.
Sitting across from me, Jeong Seongbin clasped both of my hands.
“Iwol is like a birch tree.”
“What?”
“Tall, straight, white, and elegant. It suits you so well.”
Goosebumps rose on my arms. I’d received similar compliments from Sparklers before, but those were filled with pure affection.
But from Jeong Seongbin right now, I sensed obsession and a strange intensity. Perhaps it was because of his pure and clear eyes, devoid of any malice, that his words felt even more unsettling.
“Do you know? Birch bark doesn’t rot easily. That’s why it was often used to preserve records a long time ago. It really suits you, since you love journaling.”
“Ah, yes…”
“If your outer appearance resembles a birch tree, your inner self resembles a galaxy. What was it? There was a galaxy with very similar properties to you, Iwol.”
“An ultra-diffuse galaxy…?”
“That’s right, that was it.”
Jeong Seongbin clapped his hands at Park Joowoo’s answer. Somehow, this team had everything from marine life enthusiasts to space enthusiasts.
“You know, ultra-diffuse galaxies appear dark because they’re filled with dark matter. That’s why they’re also called dark galaxies.”
“Hyung, are you subtly dissing me…?”
“No, I’m not!”
Really? You’re not saying I look like the Grim Reaper, are you? You’re not calling me dark-hearted, are you?
Jeong Seongbin waved his hands. Then he grabbed my hands again. My palms were starting to sweat.
“You know what’s fascinating? Ultra-diffuse galaxies were observed late compared to their actual size because the density of stars is so low. Just like how it took time for many people to recognize your talent.”
F*ck, this is so embarrassing.
Is this normal? Can someone throw a blanket over me? I’m dying of secondhand shame. I want this to be edited out.
“The important thing is that ultra-diffuse galaxies generally have more invisible dark matter than visible stars. Just like how you have many good qualities that you haven’t shown people yet.”
Jeong Seongbin smiled faintly. Feeling like I was overheating, I pulled my hands out of Jeong Seongbin’s grasp.
“So, the wind that took the pedestrian’s coat wasn’t a mocking wind, but a warm ray of sunshine…”
Lee Cheonghyeon muttered.
Yeah, go ahead and talk all you want…