Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols

Have you ever thought about what it’s like for the audience who has to stand for hours, watching performances back-to-back?

 

Especially when their favorite group only performs once, or they have to endure performances from groups they’re only mildly interested in.

 

Attending a music show audience was never easy, regardless of the program, but it was even harder for a survival show.

 

You didn’t know when your favorite group would appear, and you were forced to watch countless performances by unfamiliar people singing unfamiliar songs.

 

In such situations, a clear and concise connection with the audience was crucial.

 

It meant establishing a basic understanding of the group’s identity and the kind of song the group would perform.

 

Think of it like a business meeting, where you exchanged business cards to make a strong first impression.

 

In that sense, Parthe’s performance was far from approachable.

 

How many people, outside of Parthe’s fanbase, knew their concept was based on mythology?

 

So, what would happen if they performed such a highly conceptual stage without providing any context?

 

If it was unfamiliar but not intriguing enough to pique interest.

 

People call that ‘alienating’. That was exactly what Parthe’s stage was.

 

It would probably look better on broadcast. The cameras would capture the best angles, and the stage effects would be highlighted.

 

But the live experience was different. They prepared their stage as if they were in a perfectly optimized music video set, so it inevitably faltered. This was a critical mistake, especially at this stage without broadcast voting.

 

“The song itself felt crude too.”

 

I understood that they didn’t want to lose the charm of the original song, which evoked a festive amusement park atmosphere.

 

They must have also been aware of potential criticism for changing the lyrics too much.

 

But wasn’t the point of rearranging a song to give it a new twist?

 

If they wanted to incorporate a sense of longing into the mystical setting of a temple, replacing it with an orgel melody would have been sufficiently effective.

 

In a music survival show, having a lackluster song could be a fatal flaw. If your performance didn’t leave a memorable impression, you’d have nothing to sway the audience when it was time to vote. Perhaps the MYTH A&R team would need to do some serious soul-searching for the next stages.

 

So, what should Spark, a group with even less recognition than Parthe, do?

 

There was only one answer.

 

Lower the barrier to entry for our concept. Use straightforward, universally appealing elements

 

“Spark, let’s go to the waiting area!”

 

Leaving Parthe’s interview behind, I left the waiting room with the five temporary volleyball players.

 

***

 

Her legs hurt.

 

Baek Haewon carefully rotated her ankles.

 

She’d been standing for hours, unable to even stretch.

 

Checking the time wasn’t an option either; they weren’t allowed to take out their phones.

 

When she first won the audience ticket, she thought it was a reward for finishing her exams. Now, it felt more like a punishment for a student who’d failed their test.

 

Her beloved Spark was still nowhere to be seen.

 

Initially, she tried to enjoy the show and cheer along, but human stamina had limits. None of the performances were particularly engaging, either.

 

At this rate, she wouldn’t have any energy left to cheer for her own boys.

 

Baek Haewon genuinely thought so. Standing in the cramped, dark audience, she grew increasingly weary.

 

Just as she internally repeated ‘People watching at home are the real winners…’ for about the 3,000th time…

 

“Finally, here they are! The vibrant youngest members of Idol Dynasty Chronicle!”

 

Yur, the MC of Idol Dynasty Chronicle, delivered the much-anticipated introduction. During Baek Haewon’s peak fangirling days, Yur hadn’t been very active, so he had flown under Haewon’s radar. But if their timelines had overlapped, there was no doubt Haewon would’ve passionately stanned him at least once.

 

He was handsome and a good host. She loved him.

 

“Let’s welcome Spark with a round of applause!”

 

Baek Haewon clapped so hard her palms stung, eagerly waiting for Spark to emerge from the darkness.

 

As the members appeared one by one, she clutched her collar.

 

‘So XX handsome, XX…!’

 

It seemed the universe had given her a gift after all. Baek Haewon barely suppressed an uncivilized shriek.

 

Jeong Seongbin, wearing a white volleyball uniform, led the group. The mint green stripes and matching headband suited him perfectly.

 

From his hairline to his forehead and the bridge of his nose, everything about him was refreshing.

 

Who told him to go blonde and expose his forehead? This kind of behavior should be illegal.

 

Kang Kiyeon and Lee Cheonghyeon followed, Kiyeon in a mint green uniform and Cheonghyeon in white.

 

Kiyeon wore white knee pads, while Cheonghyeon sported long sleeves.

 

Then came Kim Iwol and Choi Jeho, the latter wearing wrist guards.

 

One thought popped into Baek Haewon’s head upon seeing them.

 

‘Wow, they’re so tall.’

 

She knew the average height of idols was increasing, but Spark was truly exceptional. The average height of the hyung line was 185cm.

 

However, there was a difference between reading a number and thinking, ‘Wow, my boys are a tall group! Awesome!’ and actually seeing them in person.

 

Especially Choi Jeho, the tallest of the group. The two utility-pole-like figures in uniforms were almost intimidating.

 

‘And so XX handsome too…’

 

When Kim Iwol smiled faintly in her direction, Baek Haewon found herself mumbling a silent will.

 

His distinct features were accentuated by the greyish shadows cast on his pale, almost bluish skin. 

 

From his arched eyebrows and straight nose bridge to his defined jawline, every angle of his face was sharp, yet his soft smile with those large, gentle eyes was enough to drive anyone crazy.

 

She’d lost count of how many times she’d posted on social media about wanting to fall asleep forever under the shadow of his long eyelashes.

 

This man was really classmates with her mom’s son. Life was really full of surprises.

 

But as a seasoned fangirl, Haewon knew better than to fall into delusions like, ‘Iwol just smiled at me!’.

 

Finally, Park Joowoo, in a mint green uniform and knee-high socks, completed the lineup.

 

The blessings of handsomeness were endless. Even his well-defined arm muscles peeking out from under his short sleeves were perfect. Spark shone like diamonds.

 

Baek Haewon felt all her weariness wash away. Her vocabulary seemed to have deteriorated, but she didn’t care.

 

While basking in her happiness and watching Spark’s interview, a thought struck her.

 

‘Aren’t they covering Parthe’s song?’

 

Parthe had just finished a gorgeous performance. Their fans seemed to love it, but Baek Haewon, unfamiliar with Parthe’s lore, simply thought, ‘Cool’. She hadn’t been particularly moved, as the concept felt a little too abstract for her taste.

 

If Spark’s goal was to make the song their own, she could see the potential. But whether it would mesh well with Parthe’s intricate style was a different story.

 

However, Baek Haewon didn’t dwell too much on it.

 

‘Whatever, Joowoo will kill it!’

 

She had unwavering trust in Spark’s skills, honed through two comebacks and countless self-produced content.

 

Hoping simply for a good performance, Baek Haewon watched as the members finished their interview, formed a circle on stage to cheer each other on with a resounding ‘Fighting!’ and then moved to take their positions.

 

***

 

A spotlight shone onto the darkened stage.

 

A whistle blew, the song began, and the members, divided 3:3 by uniform color, faced off.

 

The intro started with an exchange between me and Choi Jeho.

 

『Oh you

 

What do you desire?』

 

『If you ask, just one thing,

 

The one and only glory』

 

The concept of the stage was extremely simple.

 

A showdown between the Mint Team – me, Park Joowoo, and Kang Kiyeon – versus the White Team – Choi Jeho, Jeong Seongbin, and Lee Cheonghyeon!

 

Just by looking at the uniform colors and the initial formation, the audience could grasp the setup. That alone gave us a strong starting advantage.

 

Add to that sharp, precise choreography, the audible beat of synchronized footwork, and the faint friction sound from high-fives. These details breathed life into the stage.

 

『Yearn and crave

 

Until you seize it!』

 

The conceptual lyrics allowed for different interpretations depending on the situation, while simultaneously clarifying the objective.

 

Making it clear that, ‘Ah, these guys are doing this to win!’

 

Understanding led to quicker acceptance.

 

Kang Kiyeon and Jeong Seongbin’s back-to-back move symbolized the struggle between the teams, while Lee Cheonghyeon’s hand kiss gesture resembled a celebratory gesture after scoring a point.

 

Choreography that might seem ordinary at first glance took on new meaning for those who understood the context.

 

Making one song feel like a single match.

 

That was how we designed it. There were no second takes in live performances, after all.

 

And the final tactic to capture the live audience’s reaction?

 

Pour everything into the vocals.

 

As the song entered the third verse, the music soared towards its climax.

 

The sound of applause and cheers from the imaginary final match blended into the track, creating the sensation of a pounding heartbeat.

 

『Can you hear it?

 

The revelation and yearning』

 

Kang Kiyeon delivered the low notes, laying the groundwork for me to layer my voice over his.

 

『Oh you

 

Do you desire the throne?』

 

The rising melody, combined with the instruments and effects, created a festive atmosphere. The sharp sounds of the metallic instruments and the electronic sounds reminiscent of intense heat mixed together in a dizzying way.

 

『My answer remains

 

Unchanging, the same』

 

Next, Jeong Seongbin stepped forward to the center of the stage.

 

Right now, the audience was likely facing Jeong Seongbin’s overflowing expression and the raw emotion in his voice head-on.

 

And as the music reached its peak.

 

Park Joowoo, his aggression dialed up to the max, took center stage.

 

『I will claim

 

The honor』

 

His high note, sharp like a spear, pierced through the speakers.

 

Could you even call this a tactic?

 

To score points on stage, singing well was a given.

 

More than anything, what made sports exciting…

 

『The future I dreamed of!』

 

…was that it ignited passion. In an instant.

 

With the squeak of shoes against the gymnasium floor, the minimalistic sportsmanship performance ended.

 

Sweat mixed with exhilaration dripped onto the stage. Genuine applause—unlike the pre-mixed audio in our arrangement—filled the venue.

 

***

 

The atmosphere during the live voting results announcement was eerily silent, a stark contrast to the earlier energy in the room.

 

We huddled together on stage, waiting for Mr. Yur to arrive.

 

Everyone was still breathing heavily, but their faces shone. It seemed they all had received proper touch-up makeup. We’d powdered ourselves heavily to hide our sweat too.

 

As I adjusted Jeong Seongbin’s bangs to make his forehead look even prettier before the cameras started rolling, someone approached us.

 

“Um, hello!”

 

It was Moon Yeongyu, the leader of Berion, whose stage name was Onha.

 

Since he was our senior, we instinctively bowed at a 90-degree angle to greet him.

 

Onha looked flustered and insisted we didn’t have to be so formal. He then gave an awkward smile and said,

 

“Spark, your performance was amazing. I wanted to congratulate you…”

 

“Really? Thank you, sunbaenim!”

 

Jeong Seongbin shook Onha’s outstretched hand.

 

“We really enjoyed your performance too, sunbaenim. It was awesome!”

 

I added, standing next to Seongbin. Onha looked flustered, said he’d see us at the next broadcast, and quickly returned to Berion’s spot.

 

Unexpected. I thought no group would want to befriend Spark.

 

Or was it because Spark gave bonus points only to Berion?

 

Could someone approach us so readily just for that…? Come to think of it, that Onha guy was only twenty years old.

 

Judging others based on such limited impressions could lead to big misunderstandings.

 

I sincerely hoped Berion wouldn’t face too many storms in life.

 

And with perfect timing, Yur entered, holding the scoreboard—the harshest storm of all.