Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols

Anyone at UA knew how competent Kim Iwol was.

 

There was even a running joke within the company: ‘Did we recruit an idol or a new employee?’.  Now, that joke wasn’t so funny anymore.

 

Even to Jeong Seongbin, who had dreamt of being an idol for a long time, Kim Iwol was exceptional. He might not have been a professional idol, but he was definitely a professional at something.

 

‘Iwol? He’s good at what he does. Smart too. He’s just so sharp.’

 

‘Did Iwol organize this? He’s really meticulous.’

 

‘If it’s Iwol’s idea, then we can trust it.’

 

Just off the top of his head, Jeong Seongbin could recall countless instances of praise directed towards Kim Iwol.

 

It wasn’t just public image management; Kim Iwol was also held in high regard by his closest team members. Jeong Seongbin himself relied heavily on him.

 

Yet, there were those who were particularly harsh towards Kim Iwol.

 

One group consisted of people like Jang Junhoo or Yoo Hansoo, who either had a poor public image or felt inferior to Kim Iwol.

 

The other was Kim Iwol himself.

 

Kim Iwol’s self-criticism was almost habitual. Jeong Seongbin wasn’t sure if Kim Iwol was aware of it, but having struggled with self-deprecating tendencies for years, Jeong Seongbin recognized the nuances in Kim Iwol’s words better than anyone.

 

At first, he thought he was mistaken. What could someone like Kim Iwol possibly lack?

 

But he wasn’t wrong. When it came to work ethics, Kim Iwol was tough on the team, but he was even tougher on himself—not just in terms of work but in every aspect.

 

Jeong Seongbin realized for the first time, through observing Kim Iwol, that acknowledging one’s shortcomings was different from failing to recognize one’s strengths.

 

Kim Iwol worked tirelessly, snatching only a few hours of sleep—four at most, and sometimes only one or two when busy—and relentlessly practiced to compensate for any areas where he felt he lagged behind the other members.

 

Despite his grueling schedule, he still found time to visit the fan cafe daily. The way he beamed with pride whenever a great performance video was released showed how much he genuinely cherished their fans and yearned to deliver captivating performances.

 

Yet, when it came to crucial moments, Kim Iwol would say things like…

 

‘You guys will definitely look cooler without me.’

 

…with an indifferent expression, without a hint of frustration or regret.

 

“I don’t know exactly what hyung is thinking. But if we just let him keep believing he’s not that important to the team… it really hurts my heart.”

 

At Jeong Seongbin’s words, the team fell silent. While their specific examples differed, everyone recalled similar moments with Kim Iwol.

 

Jeong Seongbin glanced at Choi Jeho and Kang Kiyeon. If Kim Iwol were to participate in the stage performance, these two would undoubtedly bear the brunt of the work.

 

They had already gone through the process of revising their entire choreography once after Iwol’s absence, leaving both of them utterly exhausted.

 

“I know it’ll be a burden on Jeho hyung and Kiyeon. We could put hyung on a separate side stage, or have him only participate in the recording, but I’d really like us to think about this together. I’ll do my best to help with whatever I can…”

 

Jeong Seongbin lowered his head, feeling apologetic.

 

The response he received was far more positive than he had anticipated.

 

“It’s fine with me, I’m on break anyway. Just let me sleep in a little later this week.”

 

“I’m okay with it too.”

 

“We’ll need to reassign the parts, right? I’ll work on it with Joowoo hyung!”

 

“Okay, Seongbin, you focus on costumes and… other areas you can manage.”

 

The members, rigorously trained by Kim Iwol, readily took on their respective tasks.

 

And so, they began to discuss how they could perform live with the injured member Kim Iwol.

 

***

 

Even now, almost three days into my hospitalization, I still wasn’t feeling myself.

 

My head throbbed with unbearable pain, dizziness persisted, and I had to put on a brave face for the occasional visitors, pretending I wasn’t in pain.

 

This whole charade was driving me insane. Looking back, using pain relief to stop Yoo Hansoo was definitely the right call. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to subdue him, let alone move; I would have been crumpled on the floor.

 

As I pondered things like, ‘How do people in movies fight so well after getting hit with metal pipes?’, the manager walked into my hospital room.

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

“Much better. The doctor came by earlier for his round and said I’m recovering quickly.”

 

The nurse who had changed my dressings also mentioned that my wounds were healing remarkably fast. She sounded almost suspicious, like she couldn’t believe her eyes. Thanks to that, I probably would have to get another MRI.

 

So, I asked the system to focus on healing the internal injuries while leaving the external ones to heal at a normal pace.

 

I wanted to return to society, not end up in some rare human research lab.

 

“I heard you asked the members to bring your laptop?”

 

With that, the manager handed me a phone, which looked ridiculously small compared to a laptop.

 

“But they said not to give you a laptop. They said you’d just work if I give it to you.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I figured you would, so I didn’t bring it. But you need a way to contact us if anything happens, so keep this phone.”

 

I just stared at the phone in my hand, feeling like a raccoon that had just rinsed its cotton candy.

 

We then discussed who would be responsible for settling the surgery and hospital bills.

 

Apparently, UA had already covered all the hospital expenses. I was also informed that even if I reached a settlement with Yoo Hansoo, I wouldn’t have to give the money to the company.

 

“The company knew there were issues between you and Producer Yoo, so we’re taking responsibility. We’ll cover all the medical costs, so don’t worry about it. Okay?”

 

The manager also suggested that I should consider counseling and promised to bring me a list of therapists later.

 

“And Iwol, I have something to ask. Are you feeling up to talking right now?”

 

“Yes, please go ahead.”

 

He pulled a chair over from the cabinet and sat down.

 

“This might be a sensitive topic. Is that okay?”

 

“Of course. Please feel free to speak your mind.”

 

“Um…”

 

I wondered what could make him hesitate so much, but then an unexpected question came out of his mouth.

 

“Can I ask how bad things are between you and your parents?”

 

The fact that he was bringing up my family at this point…

 

“Is this about the guardian’s consent?”

 

“Huh?”

 

It must have been because they tried to contact my guardian during surgery.

 

Sure enough, the manager avoided my gaze.

 

I couldn’t contact them directly. The system had placed restrictions on that.

 

But what if I could communicate through a third party?

 

“If you managed to contact my parents…”

 

If there were someone who could access their contact information and reach out on my behalf, I could ask about my sister.

 

At the very least, I wanted to know where she lived or what she was doing.

 

“Well, the thing is…”

 

My manager fell silent.

 

Not long ago, there was a controversy about my character. Now that my personal information had been leaked, there was no guarantee that word about me hadn’t reached them.

 

My heart sank. It felt like someone had doused me with ice water.

 

“They don’t want anything to do with me, do they?”

 

Guardian signature or whatever else—it didn’t matter. They could refuse to sign; it didn’t matter whether I received surgery or not. Even if they had told the hospital not to bother contacting them despite being listed as my family in the records, I wouldn’t have cared.

 

But couldn’t they at least give me a chance to talk to them?

 

My resentment towards the system dissipated. Even without the system, they would have acted the same way.

 

“Iwol.”

 

The manager called my name and patted my shoulder.

 

“In the future… if something comes up involving your family, how would you like the company to handle it?”

 

It was a kind gesture.

 

Honestly, I wanted to say I didn’t care. I wanted to tell him to cut ties with them completely and not even bother looking.

 

‘What’s the point of meeting halfway? Why bother coming near my house?’

 

‘You said you worked late last night too. Have some decency and buy your noona dinner.’

 

“It’s okay.”

 

I suppressed all my emotions and decided to endure.

 

“If they ever get in touch, please let me know. There’s something I want to say to them.”

 

For my sister’s sake.

 

***

 

After the manager left, I checked my messages that had piled up.

 

Countless people had sent me messages asking how I was doing.

 

I expected it from the Berion members, but even Mr. Polo and Mr. Yur had sent texts expressing their concern and wishing me a speedy recovery.

 

Wondering why everyone was making such a fuss, I searched for news articles and found the headlines to be quite dramatic. If you just read the articles, you’d think I was at death’s door.

 

‘With such sensational reporting, of course everyone’s freaking out .’

 

Following the manager’s approval, I posted a brief update on the group’s official account, letting everyone know I was resting well. Then, I started replying to all the messages I had missed, expressing my gratitude.

 

Finally, I logged into BubblePop, which I hadn’t been able to access properly for several days.

 

My inbox was overflowing with messages.

 

≫ Iwol, are you okay? Don’t push yourself, get plenty of rest ㅠㅠ

 

≫ Iwol, don’t get sick

 

≫ I miss you! Rest up, recover quickly, and come back soon!!

 

≫ Iwol, if anyone bothers you, just wave carrots in both hands and shout my name. This noona will take care of everything

 

I slowly typed a short message.

 

Iwol

 

[You’ve been waiting a long time, haven’t you? I’m sorry for the late reply.]

 

My rule of sending at least 10 messages a day had been completely broken. Guilt washed over me.

 

Despite that, the fans welcomed me warmly.

 

≫ Kim Iwol, no apologies allowed

 

≫ What are you sorry for?ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ Are you okay?

 

≫ Iwol, noona is on her way to set UA on fire

 

≫ Yeah, baby, you shouldn’t apologize for things like this

 

Some frequently used words still left me flustered… but their sincerity mattered more than anything else, so I accepted their kindness gratefully.

 

‘Assistant Manager Kim, how are you that tall yet always carrying headache meds?’

 

‘You got heatstroke because there wasn’t any food? Are you doing this on purpose because I turned off the fan on your side, Assistant Manager Kim?’

 

‘Assistant Manager Kim, I’m losing it because of the staff. Everything’s the flu this and flu that. If everyone’s sick, who’s supposed to work?’

 

My mind kept overlapping Manager Nam’s face over everything, as if to prevent me from feeling apathetic towards the fans.

 

I was already deeply grateful, so I wished these random thoughts would leave me alone.

 

Instead, I made a promise to myself—to make up for the lost time with the fans and communicate as much as I could.

 

And so, I chatted excitedly with the fans until I fell asleep, completely oblivious to the ‘BubblePop 999+’ trending topic that appeared a few hours later.