Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols

Chapter 324: Promotions Start (3)

Monitoring their music show stages was also part of a manager’s duties. When it was Spark’s turn, Pyeong Daeyeon and Im Chanyoung would stand in a corner of the set with their phones, recording the performance. Afterward, they would check for things like choreography mistakes or any potential hazards on stage.

When the members returned to the waiting room, they gathered in groups of three around the phones held by Im Chanyoung and Pyeong Daeyeon. They spent more time reviewing the rehearsal for 『End』, scheduled for the live broadcast that evening, than they did for the pre-recorded 『On A High Note』.

So they were trying hard to focus on the video, but.

“Lee Cheonghyeon, get your hair out of the way.”

“My bad. My passion for monitoring was so overwhelming that I couldn’t control my hair.”

“Hyung, can we watch from the very beginning…?”

Their screens were completely covered by the younger members’ hair. For a moment, Pyeong Daeyeon seriously considered whether he should switch to a phone with a bigger screen.

As Park Joowoo requested, Pyeong Daeyeon played the video again from the beginning. Choi Jeho, now with a toned-down—UA taught Pyeong Daeyeon so many new words—burgundy hairstyle, opened the intro of the performance.

Fitting the dark and heavy mood of the song, the choreography was powerful. The camera work for the part where they traced a line with their fingertips from their lower lip, down their neck, to the middle of their chest was also superb.

“The way Jeho hyung unzipped his jacket to his solar plexus is just evil, absolutely evil.”“Why? It’s cool…”

“I’m just saying, we should spare a thought for the dignity of the Sparklers who will be watching this with their families during dinner time.”

Lee Cheonghyeon, Park Joowoo, and Kang Kiyeon chattered nonstop. If he hadn’t seen their sparkling eyes, Pyeong Daeyeon wouldn’t have known they were concentrating on the monitoring.

At the part where they did a half-turn to face away from the camera, glanced down, and did a wave, Lee Cheonghyeon even clapped his hands in reaction.

“Woah, Kang Kiyeon!”

“Be quiet.”

Kang Kiyeon blushed.

“Kiyeon, you looked great. It was really cool.”

Pyeong Daeyeon added. It wasn’t just because he’d seen him practicing day and night; during this promotion, Kang Kiyeon had a captivating charm that drew people in. The ever-polite Kang Kiyeon couldn’t bring himself to chide Pyeong Daeyeon as well.

‘At times like this, they seem just like kids their age.’

Though less bulky than the older members, the three younger members still had great physiques. You could tell by how their shoulders filled out the roomy, beige uniform-style suits they were wearing.

In the case of Park Joowoo and Lee Cheonghyeon, who were thin for their height, the area below their collarbones hollowed when they bent over, but the shape of their arms revealed beneath their sleeves and the line of their legs, which could be discerned through their pants, compensated for any part that might have otherwise looked frail.

And the favorite topic of conversation for these two, who possessed such great physiques, was debating which waiting room had the most comfortable sofa they had ever sat on.

Then there was Kang Kiyeon. Even while receiving praise for every fancam video for exuding his unique, mature atmosphere whenever he danced, the way he would mumble his words next to his hyungs or friends made him seem just like a little kid.

Whenever he saw this contrasting side of them, Pyeong Daeyeon had to hold back his laughter to keep from saying something foolish. Silently, he switched the paused video back to play.

Even though the lighting was red, a chill emanated from the video. And that was despite them all having black or reddish hair. So this is why they’re called the ‘cold-handsome-men group,’ he thought.

One captivating scene followed another. Spark held the mindset that ‘the final broadcast will only be as good as you’ve practiced,’ and because of that, they always delivered a consistently high-quality performance.

As a result, it was rare for Im Chanyoung or Pyeong Daeyeon to have to point anything out to Spark. If anything, the members were busy analyzing each other on their own.

Sure enough, Kim Iwol’s voice came from the opposite group.

“With wide-legged pants, the silhouette doesn’t stand out well. You all have straight hips, so it’d be good if that line showed more. Should I suggest leather pants?

To the seriously pondering Kim Iwol, the stylist delivered the news that the outfits for the next broadcast were, in fact, tight-fitting leather pants. Kim Iwol’s face lit up.

For Pyeong Daeyeon, who had never worn a pair of tight leather pants in his entire life, their professional dedication was nothing short of astonishing.

A comment Pyeong Daeyeon had recently seen on the ‘Worry Sharing Session’ video came to mind.

≫ It’s kinda funny how a kid who’s only in his early twenties acts like he’s completely mastered corporate life

Even giving them the benefit of the doubt, who gains that much life experience when you only work with your peers and everyone around you coddles you?

If the person who wrote that comment could see this, they would understand.

That age doesn’t define one’s life experience.

And that regardless of what age they started, Spark, all in their early twenties, were also indisputably living their own professional lives.

* * *

The live broadcast for the first week of promotions ended excellently. They were even nominated for first place, despite having almost no broadcast points yet. It was a remarkable achievement.

“Is everyone in? Belts on?”

Manager Chanyoung asked, checking the passenger and back seats.

Lee Cheonghyeon and Kang Kiyeon answered energetically. You could see they were both in high spirits from the long-awaited comeback.

If I left them be, they’d tire themselves out and fall asleep. Since they both said they were going to school tomorrow, I decided to just let them sleep.

‘Should I check the ideas for our next self-produced content on the way?’

As of yesterday, the schedule—normally packed—had one empty slot for the next shoot. Given that the original filming schedule was pushed back, it seemed they’d decided to slot in a new idea rather than it being an omission. And I was not great with impromptu content. I really had no desire to end up as an octopus for saying the wrong thing.

Check the ideas, look at the uploaded coordination plans, watch the stage performance and the fancams once each, and we’d arrive at the dorm. Perfect time management.

I happily turned on my tablet, ready to follow my plan, when—

“Iwol! Don’t look at anything, just sleep!”

A stern command came from the manager. It was closer to a whisper than a shout, and I immediately looked at Lee Cheonghyeon and Kang Kiyeon, worried they might have woken up. Thankfully, the two youngsters were dead to the world.

“I’m not sleepy at all.”

“Sleep even if you’re not. Or at least just close your eyes.”

Why such a meaningless act? The amount of work I had to do wouldn’t decrease anyway.

“You’re not getting enough sleep. At this rate, you won’t last until the end of promotions.”

“I’m really okay…!”

My vigorous protests were useless. The manager didn’t stop talking until the light from my tablet went out, forcing me to hurriedly turn it off.

Giving in to his insistence, I closed my eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come. A quick, sound sleep was impossible for someone living with migraines.

‘As the synchronization progresses, will the headaches get worse, too?’

It would be so unfair if the headaches were part of the synchronization. My headaches were chronic. They didn’t start after I turned twenty; they’d been fluctuating ever since my earliest memories.

In any case, the system had no redeeming qualities. I clicked my tongue inwardly.

The van, with its passengers asleep, was quiet. Only the sound of even breathing could be heard in turns. The occasional click of the manager’s turn signal was the only noise. It was a good environment to get lost in thought.

Whenever I had free time recently, I had been contemplating the system. Thinking, what the hell is this damn thing?

I’d narrowed it down to about three possibilities. First, a divine being. Second, a mental delusion that occurred when I somehow survived and fell into a coma.

And the third… was.

‘It might be my sister.’

I was trying to deny it, but I couldn’t help having doubts.

The idea had surfaced for a while now. To be precise, I had started considering it might be my sister from the moment I realized that the tasks or KPIs the system presented were not, results-wise, harmful to me.

It might say it would reunite me with my sister, but then say, ‘Actually, I was by your side all along’. The updates it had shown me about my sister’s well-being could have been a metaphor for the system itself working or observing from the sidelines. If that were the case, should I be happy or not?

There was no reason for my sister to deliberately use Manager Nam’s speech patterns. She knew how much I hated him.

The system’s goal of my well-being and Manager Nam were diametrically opposed. With such an obvious contradiction, the system should’ve gone through its own renovation before meddling with my life. Right?

In the first place, if the system was my sister, then my sister was already…

I didn’t want to think any further. So I decided to focus on the first and second hypotheses.

Recently, I’d been looking into various religions. I focused on cases with gods who send revelations or use mediums, rather than those with no interaction between god and human or those where one achieved enlightenment on their own. There were cases where a god would descend in a physical form, like an eagle, and others who only let their voice be heard.

The common point was that many gods carried an image of fear. Either to liken natural disasters to divine power, to enforce religious devotion, or to guide believers by defining what they must or must not do.

The system’s behavior pattern was closest to the last one. It didn’t seem intent on suppressing me outright. It just made slightly unreasonable demands.

This made me think again.

Was Manager Nam really such a fearsome person? Not just someone I disliked, but someone fearsome? So much so that the system would deliberately imitate him?

‘This is difficult.’

Leaning my forehead against the window did nothing to cool the heat in my head.

If I knew what I ultimately had to achieve, I might be able to satisfy the system without achieving the KPIs.

But I had no clue. What on earth I was supposed to do, whether I needed to break down my non-existent time even further, or if it would be better to build an amicable relationship with the system for the future.

My head began to throb again. Whenever I tried to use my brain, my head ended up like this. I was sick of it.

I felt the car slowly reversing, and heard the beeping of the backup camera detecting an obstacle. At the manager’s voice announcing our arrival, Lee Cheonghyeon and Kang Kiyeon rustled and sat up.

“Did you get some sleep?”

Kang Kiyeon asked in a sleepy voice.

I gave a noncommittal nod. My head throbbed with every movement.

I felt sorry for our concerned manager, but I had a feeling that getting a proper night’s sleep today was also a lost cause.