Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols

It had been about 5 minutes since I arrived at the CEO’s office with the manager.

 

With the arrival of Min Jukyung, who clearly seemed to have rushed over from work, all the participants for this momentous first meeting were gathered.

 

“No need to be nervous. We have these meetings just to catch up and greet each other once a month if you’re an artist of UA.” 

 

The CEO began. Sure enough, the manager and Min Jukyung didn’t appear tense at all.

 

‘UA’s employee satisfaction rating was around 3.2 stars, wasn’t it?’

 

That was a high rating for a small agency in the notorious entertainment industry. Probably twice as high as Hanpyeong Industry.

 

“I skipped last month thinking you’d still be adjusting, but you’re all settled in now, right? Think of this as a short break from your busy practice schedule and relax.”

 

While this was a statement that idols undergoing physical training could appreciate, I felt my fists clenching.

 

Usually, if someone wasn’t feeling well, you’d suggest they take it easy, not call them to the CEO’s office.

 

After receiving buckwheat tea personally prepared by the CEO, the real conversation began.

 

Most of it was typical new employee meeting topics like ‘How are you doing?’  and ‘Is there anything you’re uncomfortable with?’

 

“You don’t get discouraged even if you started late. Chanyoung always praises you for staying late to practice every day.”

 

When I glanced at the manager, he winked at me. Thank you for framing up my extra study sessions so nicely.

 

The CEO and Min Jukyung smiled and asked me question after question.

 

“You’re rooming with Jeho and Cheonghyeon, right? Are you getting along well with the kids now?”

 

“What do you usually do during self-practice time?”

 

“How’s your preparation for the next evaluation going? Do you have any ideas?”

 

For a rookie trainee in their early 20s who just entered the industry, these questions were considerate.

 

However, for someone who had trained in HR management in the mud like me, I was already viewing this through dark-tinted glasses.

 

To me, their questions sounded like this:

 

→ Are you communicating well with your team members without any issues?

 

→ What do you usually do to develop your work competencies?

 

→ Have you started drafting your work plan for the second half of the year? Start early because we’ll be doing surprise tests.

 

If that wasn’t their intention, I’d apologize, but I responded in the most sincere way I could.

 

“I’m comfortable living with my roommates because they’re all nice.”

 

…And so on.

 

That statement meant ‘Choi Jeho has a great personality, and Lee Cheonhyeon uses his laptop until dawn but doesn’t harass me, so we maintain peace and get along well’.

 

After a few more exchanges like this, Min Jukyung laughed.

 

“CEO, don’t you think Iwol speaks sincerely?”

 

“Right. When I heard from Jukyung, I thought, ‘All of our kids are sincere, so is that unusual?’”

 

I realized that by ‘sincere’, they meant the enthusiastic, ‘Yes! I’ll do my best!’ type of sincerity but I didn’t say anything.

 

This tone was something I picked up working under Manager Nam.

 

Or maybe the effect of resume attendance management applied even here.

 

Sure enough, a small phrase ‘Recognized for excellent attendance management and highly evaluated’ was faintly glowing.

 

While the atmosphere was still friendly, the manager made an unexpected remark.

 

“Iwol is quite capable. The kids quickly warmed up to him, too.”

 

Those guys?

 

I don’t think so.

 

There was no way someone would find any great charm in a person they met less than a month ago, who was only a year or two older.

 

Especially someone as awkward as me.

 

But the manager seemed determined to present me as a sociable person.

 

“He adapts quickly and is quite friendly. When they’re all together, Iwol subtly helps lighten up the mood.”

 

That was because it gave me some leeway in the tense practice room. Thanks to this, I ate two servings of humble pie every day and never felt hungry. 

 

Listening to the well-filtered words of the manager, the CEO spoke.

 

“Such people are truly rare. Not just in a group, but in any organization.”

 

“…Yes?”

 

I was taken aback.

 

It was the kind of statement I had never heard during a company meeting.

 

The CEO even encouraged me, saying, ‘Let’s keep it up as you have been’.

 

In this atmosphere full of compliments, which seemed almost too sincere to believe, I was at a loss and could only smile mechanically. It felt surreal.

 

* * *

 

After receiving experience points as a reward for finishing the meeting, I returned to the practice room, where only Lee Cheonghyeon was present.

 

“Why are you here alone?”

 

Lee Cheonghyeon cheerfully replied to my question.

 

“Jeho hyung went to the convenience store, and Joowoo hyung is in the vocal practice room!”

 

“Seongbin and Kiyeon… Do they have school late today?”

 

“They said they’d come after their ID photo shoot. We didn’t have after-school classes today, so we finished early!”

 

“Ah, photos are important.”

 

Those photos would probably circulate on the internet forever.

 

Lee Cheonghyeon’s words brought back memories of after-school classes and study sessions.

 

And it also reminded me of my sister’s annoying ‘back in our day’ stories about how night study was mandatory.

 

Every time I recalled things I thought I had forgotten, it felt nostalgic.

 

“What are you going to do today?”

 

“I need to finish writing my rap lyrics, but I’ll do that at night… I thought about writing a song since I was told to try it, but there are many parts I’m unsure about, so I’ll probably just focus on dancing today.”

 

UA, with the CEO being a former singer-songwriter, was the perfect environment to learn songwriting.

 

Cheonhyeon, who had majored in classical music when he was younger, only started learning popular music composition in earnest after joining UA.

 

As befitting a member of Spark, a group of outstanding raw talents, Cheonghyeon’s growth rate accelerated greatly after he debuted.

 

From a rookie composer who contributed one song to the debut album, he grew into a capable artist who could produce an entire album in just a few years.

 

The only thing Cheonghyeon regretted was one thing:

 

‘Question from user 1103! Cheonhyeon, if you could change just one thing from the past, what would it be?’

 

‘This is a tough one… If I had to pick one, it would be starting composition late.’

 

‘Didn’t you make this title track too? But you still have regrets?’

 

‘I didn’t start composing early. I think if I had learned more diligently earlier, I might be better at it now.’

 

If only he had started composing earlier.

 

At the time, he probably focused on his strength in rap, not knowing he had a talent for creating popular music, but once he got his hands on composition, it seemed he developed an ambition for it.

 

‘There were so many kids around me who started dancing or singing early too.’

 

I reflected on the songs Lee Cheonghyeon had made.

 

As the years went by, his songs increasingly matched Spark’s group identity.

 

Unlike debut schedules, creating wasn’t something you could suddenly do just by moving the date forward, but…

 

If he was going to regret starting late, he needed to try a different path this time. Especially considering his potential.

 

‘With the schedule pushed forward by a year, it’d be advantageous to have songs ready early for a stable debut.’

 

They say the earlier you post job openings and challenges, the better.

 

The problem was whether composition was something he could immediately get into just by starting early.

 

‘I don’t know anything about the creative realm.’

 

After receiving 12 years of cramming education, I only studied business administration in college.

 

The only time I had to exercise creativity at Hanpyeong Industry was when I moved Manager Nam’s Friday evening dinner meetings to Monday lunch the following week.

 

“What are you thinking so hard about?”

 

“I’m thinking about how to turn you into a composition genius.”

 

“Me?”

 

Lee Cheonghyeon asked back.

 

I continued cautiously, making sure the system didn’t interpret my words as talking about the future.

 

“Yes. I want to raise you and recruit you as the team’s composition machine.”

 

“Your expectations are too specific and grand, hyung!”

 

“Is it wrong to have expectations for a young and smart talent? Oh, if you feel pressured, tell me. I’ll restrain myself.”

 

But I already knew. This guy Cheonghyeon wasn’t the type to feel pressured by this level of talk.

 

Sure enough, though he looked at me oddly, he didn’t seem pressured.

 

“It would be nice if this young and smart Cheonghyeon became a composition machine. But maybe because school just started, I’m not feeling motivated, hyung.”

 

“What does motivation matter in work? What’s important is deadlines and pressure.”

 

“What?”

 

“I believe people can do anything if there’s just compulsion.”

 

I placed both hands on Cheonghyeon’s shoulders.

 

“Cheonghyeon.”

 

“…Yes.”

 

“Pour all your thoughts into creating a beat first.”

 

I knew that creation didn’t happen by force.

 

But you could at least build a foundation to hold onto inspiration when it struck.

 

I couldn’t share the agony of creation, but I created a deadline as a token of encouragement and gifted it to Lee Cheonghyeon.

 

For about a week after that, Lee Cheonghyeon really shared his progress with me every single day without fail.

 

Even today, he was still struggling with his composition program until nearly midnight.

 

As he stared at the monitor for a long time, Lee Cheonghyeon asked me in a hoarse voice.

 

“Hyung. Why do you tell Kang Kiyeon to go to sleep when it’s late, but not me?”

 

“You look like you’ll grow taller even if you sleep less.”

 

“That’s really mean.”

 

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

 

“No, that hurts my pride.”

 

Of course, I wasn’t shameless enough to make a kid stay up late while I went to bed alone.

 

Instead, while Cheonghyeon worked on his composition, I planned the next day’s schedule anticipating the tasks the system would assign me in the future.

 

If I just waited for the system to randomly pop up, I felt like it would take 10 years to fill up the exp.

 

It was the method of sweeping the yard before being asked to pick up a broom.

 

Just like when I anticipated vocal feedback, I tried a few things based on previous tasks, and they matched up quite well with a high probability.

 

Thanks to that, my current cumulative experience points reached 90.

 

‘It would be nice if just 10 more fell from the sky.’

 

While I was just randomly scribbling lines on the poor algorithm, an alarm rang on Lee Cheonghyeon’s phone. It indicated that 25 minutes had passed.

 

It was the effect of introducing the Pomodoro study method, meaning to focus intensely only when concentrating and rest otherwise in the limited time.

 

Lee Cheonghyeon was also adapting to this method, preferring it over staring blankly into space when stuck.

 

“Good job. Is it time to sleep now?”

 

“I guess so… What about you, hyung?”

 

“I’ll stay a little longer.”

 

“Hyung, are you a human or an elephant? How can you sleep so little?”

 

I’m more surprised that you know that elephants don’t sleep much.

 

At that moment, a phrase so familiar that I was starting to appreciate it, popped up.

 

+

 

[SYSTEM] ‘Hidden Task’ completed.

 

▷ Content: Earn recognition for tenacity from a member

 

▷ Reward: Exp (10)

 

▷ Total exp: 100

 

▷ Total point: 1

 

+

 

“Cheonghyeon.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“You’re truly commendable.”

 

“What are you saying? Just go to sleep!”

 

Ignoring Cheonghyeon’s disgust, I quickly exchanged the newly acquired welfare point for proficiency.

 

+

 

Performance Evaluation (100)

 

– Vocal proficiency: 6(▲)/20

 

– Dance proficiency: 5(▲)/20

 

–  Self-PR: 12/20

 

– Attendance management: 18/20

 

– Organizational adaptability: 10/20

 

Total exp: 0

 

+

 

In the midst of this, my vocal proficiency had increased on its own again this time.

 

The vocalist next door did well on his own, but somehow our dancer required so much effort.

 

I decided to let it slide just once, impressed by the remarkable growth from 1 to 5.

 

By raising dance proficiency to 5, I also completed the task of improving dance proficiency before the March monthly evaluation.

 

+

 

[SYSTEM] The ‘task’ is complete.

 

▷ Reward: Trial access to other members’ resumes, a set of 3 standard forms for planning a debut album

 

+

 

Finally, I could see the members’ resumes instead of my own poor resume.