Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols

Even after waiting another 30 minutes, Lee Cheonghyeon didn’t show up.

 

It was becoming clear that something was troubling him.

 

‘How is it that not a single one of them can just let things go smoothly?’

 

I suddenly felt a newfound respect for teachers who graduate dozens of hormonal high school students each year.

 

“What could possibly bother him…?”

 

Jeong Seongbin said in a worried voice.

 

It seemed that no one had any idea why Lee Cheonghyeon had suddenly skipped practice.

 

To my recollection, I had never heard any rumors about Lee Cheonghyeon skipping practice during his trainee days either.

 

While Choi Jeho and Kang Kiyeon’s conflict or Jeong Seongbin’s struggles were just accelerated versions of events that were bound to happen anyway, this was the first time an entirely new incident had occurred.

 

‘If we’re talking about changes related to Lee Cheonghyeon, the only thing different is that the debut song has changed.’

 

Just like the other trainees, it was highly unlikely that Lee Cheonghyeon, who didn’t have a phone, had heard anything about the debut song while on his way home.

 

But no matter how I thought about it, there didn’t seem to be any other issue besides Lee Cheonghyeon’s self-composed song.

 

‘Or did this kid… figure it out?’

 

While he might seem quite clueless on the surface, Lee Cheonghyeon was surprisingly perceptive.

 

He was the one who always managed to smooth things over whenever Choi Jeho or Kang Kiyeon created tense atmospheres during past broadcasts.

 

In other words, he might have realized that the song he composed could potentially be chosen as the debut title track.

 

The kid who didn’t bat an eye when his composition was included as a b-side was now emotionally affected by it potentially being selected as the title track?

 

Especially after creating an even more incredible song than before?

 

If that was the case, it was obvious why Lee Cheonghyeon bolted.

 

‘He doesn’t want to stand out.’

 

To be exact, he didn’t want to be at the forefront.

 

The fact that he had been so proactive to the point of being called the ‘camera person’ after debuting as a member of Spark was probably just him being considerate.

 

It could be a side of him that developed as he took on the role of the team’s variety show member and gained more experience.

 

There were those kinds of people sometimes—those who did their work well but didn’t show it off.

 

There were plenty of unsung heroes like that at Hanpyeong Industry too.

 

The reasons for staying under the radar varied.

 

Some were shy, some grew up being told that humility was a virtue.

 

Or maybe they were just too focused on their work to care about taking credit.

 

And then, people like Manager Nam would swoop in, steal their achievements, and get promoted. F*ck him.

 

Anyway, the current Lee Cheonghyeon was just a high school student.

 

It wouldn’t be surprising if he felt burdened by the prospect of his first-ever song being chosen as the title track.

 

‘So that’s why the new task is like that.’

 

Securing a debut song must have meant persuading Lee Cheonghyeon who had run away.

 

Although I didn’t want to force him into something he didn’t want to do, his song was far too good to be a b-side.

 

With Jeong Seongbin’s emotional turmoil as well, I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were getting deliberately complicated.

 

It felt like chasing after a lit fuse connected to gunpowder, only sweeping up the ashes left behind.

 

‘For now… I guess I need to go catch him.’

 

I picked up my workout jacket that I had folded on the practice room sofa.

 

I had an ominous feeling that it was going to be a long day.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, are you really going to leave without even knowing where he went?”

 

“Yeah, I think I can find him if I try.”

 

A few years ago, I once wandered through bars looking for a necktie that Manager Nam had lost somewhere during a dinner with executives.

 

The only clues were the corporate card transaction records from the accounting team and the atmosphere of the seat where Manager Nam said he had sat.

 

To cut to the chase, I found Manager Nam’s lost necktie that day.

 

It was under one of the many bar chairs in the Gangnam area.

 

I stopped myself from recalling the process, fearing it might bring me to tears.

 

‘I found a plain black tie, so why wouldn’t I be able to find a person?’

 

Since he was a high school student, Lee Cheonghyeon would just move within the range of public transportation.

 

Because all the trainees, except for me, were using allowances from their parents.

 

I started searching on the smartphone I got from the manager.

 

Everything from bus stops near Lee Cheonghyeon’s school to the buses that stop at those stations.

 

Next, I retraced the criteria I had used when I looked for a new place when I wanted to quit.

 

‘The most important thing is how far you can get from the place you want to escape from.’

 

I couldn’t agree more with my colleague who said that they wouldn’t even park near Hanpyeong Industry if they quit.

 

I selected five places based on how far their terminal stations were from Lee Cheonghyeon’s high school and the UA practice room.

 

Then I ruled out busy areas and so-called hot spots.

 

This was because I had previously read Lee Cheonghyeon’s post-it note on a fan signing event.

 

If Cheonghyeon was given a free holiday,

 

Walk around comfortably in a crowded place ( ) vs. Rest quietly in a secluded spot resting quietly in a quiet place (○)

 

I even remembered Lee Cheonghyeon had written neatly below: ‘Please recommend a healing travel destination later!’

 

Even if he didn’t look like it, he seemed to be the type who reflected deeply when troubled.

 

Moreover, he was a trainee about to debut. I believed he was not stupid enough to hang around inappropriate places and risk controversy.

 

Finally, I searched for ‘Seoul Outskirts Walking Trails’ on a portal site and checked which place had the most recommendations.

 

Someone who hadn’t made many PPTs probably wouldn’t be good at searching the web.

 

At best, he probably borrowed a friend’s phone at school for a quick search, leaving little time to think.

 

I checked the location with the most influencer recommendations. It was a place that would take quite a while to reach by bus.

 

When I caught this guy, I’d definitely hold him responsible for leaving work without permission.

 

Determined, I sent a message to the manager saying I’d bring Lee Cheonghyeon back.

 

Of course, I didn’t forget to stop by a convenience store to buy a transportation card.

 

I was itching to ask if I could charge UA for the expenses incurred in finding Lee Cheonghyeon.

 

* * *

 

Lee Cheonghyeon sat on the bench, alternately swinging his legs by moving only his knees.

 

Each time his feet brushed the ground, dust rose.

 

The view below his feet was so distant that it felt like he was in another world.

 

Having grown up under impeccable home education from parents who had lived diligently all their lives, Lee Cheonghyeon had never once skipped academy classes.

 

This was only the second time Lee Cheongyeon rebelled.

 

The first time was when he and Kang Kiyeon had ditched practice to visit a neighborhood playground, and he hadn’t even been scolded for it.

 

Now that he had made it to the debut team, he knew he had no excuse if he got in big trouble for this.

 

‘Is this how Kang Kiyeon feels when he takes a walk before every evaluation?’

 

On the day he learned that his same-age friend had a habit of getting nervous at crucial moments.

 

Lee Cheonghyeon had dragged Kang Kiyeon out of a bathroom stall where he had been stewing and taken him for a long walk until he had calmed down.

 

He couldn’t fully understand Kang Kiyeon’s anxiety. Lee Cheonghyeon wasn’t the type to be nervous.

 

He had just impulsively taken his suffocated friend out for fresh air.

 

Lee Cheonghyeon never imagined that at the end of that long outing would be his own escape.

 

Unlike before, when he had been with Kang Kiyeon, today Lee Cheonghyeon was alone. And he couldn’t even ease his knotted heart with a walk.

 

When he looked down at his watch, it showed that it was already an hour past the time he was supposed to be in the practice room.

 

But he didn’t want to go to the practice room.

 

Maybe it was more accurate to say he couldn’t go.

 

Because he had a feeling some uncomfortable news was waiting for him in the practice room.

 

He even hoped that his prediction was just wishful thinking.

 

Lee Cheonghyeon had a shameless streak, allowing him to brush things off with a playful ‘Let’s not talk about this incident anywhere, it’s a dark history!’ when something went wrong.

 

Unfortunately, Lee Cheonghyeon was also well aware that he was more perceptive than most.

 

He had somewhat sensed that his song might be used as the group’s debut title track since his roommate hyung started writing what he called a proposal with bloodshot eyes.

 

It wasn’t so much that he believed in his colleague’s passion, but rather that his colleague’s output made him think that way.

 

After the convincing document came out, he couldn’t help but consider the surrounding circumstances.

 

It didn’t seem likely that the agency, which was still trial-and-error with adding and subtracting classes even after the debut team was decided due to lack of a set curriculum, would discard such a high-quality concept.

 

From the company’s perspective, it would also be a waste to give up the opportunity to add the label ‘self-produced group’ in an era overflowing with capable and talented idols.

 

Lee Cheonghyeon understood the situation and accepted it.

 

However…

 

‘What if it fails?’

 

It didn’t make sense to him that a song composed by a high school student would be used as the title track.

 

Taking responsibility for an entire song was a completely different matter from contributing a few rap lines.

 

Moreover, the people debuting with that song were the members Lee Cheonghyeon had been watching closely all this time.

 

He knew all too well how hard everyone had worked towards their debut.

 

As such, Lee Cheonghyeon wished his colleagues could debut with an even better song.

 

Of course, all these worries could have ended if Lee Cheonghyeon had declared that he would not use his own song.

 

But that wasn’t easy for him either.

 

Pathetically, Lee Cheonghyeon found it extremely difficult to refuse an adult’s request.

 

The only time Lee Cheonghyeon had gone against his parents’ wishes was when he declared that he would become an idol.

 

For someone like him, it was difficult to defy the opinions of the company—a group of adults more distant and difficult than family, in a position of authority, and with significant influence over his future.

 

Especially after learning that even Jeong Seongbin, who had been with the agency much longer than him and was like a leader to the trainees, was being bullied by a senior artist from the same company.

 

It was perhaps natural for Lee Cheonghyeon to be anxious about not being able to rebel against adult society.

 

‘I want to run away.’

 

As he was thinking this, a long shadow fell across Lee Cheonghyeon’s eyes.

 

At the same time, a cool voice came down from above his head.

 

“So you were here after all.”

 

Lee Cheonghyeon looked up at the familiar voice.

 

Perhaps due to the backlight, his colleague and roommate, looking more ominous than usual, was standing there expressionless.