Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols-Chapter 170: Customer Appreciation Event

“Seongbin, when’s our lyric writing deadline again?”
This was already the twenty-seventh time I’d asked Jeong Seongbin the same question.
“The day after tomorrow, hyung.”
Jeong Seongbin dutifully answered again. Thanks to him, I could feel the doomsday clock ticking closer every day.
I wasn’t the only one feeling down.
Even Choi Jeho, who had meticulously written instructions on how to use pepper spray during our first fan-gifting event, looked like death warmed over.
Lee Cheonghyeon, our rapper, and Kang Kiyeon, our sub-rapper, had submitted their lyrics long ago. Jeong Seongbin was in the middle of reviewing his work, and Park Joowoo seemed to be almost done.
I picked up a crumpled piece of paper that Choi Jeho had thrown on the floor.
“Can I look at this?”
“Go ahead…”
Permission was granted with an air of resignation. I unfolded the crumpled paper, revealing the marks of his struggle, lines crossed out with a pen.
[Lacking Spark and lacking, the long road ahead is still lacking Spark and—]
How much did you want to call Spark lacking, you punk? Your true feelings are leaking out.
But I wasn’t in any position to judge.
[Thanks to all of you, Spark exists today.
Reason for rejection: Feels too much like an award speech.
Spark will always be by your side.
Reason for rejection: Sounds like an election campaign.]
My notebook wasn’t much different.
The two oldest hyungs were proving to be completely useless.  At least within Spark, the saying ‘older brothers know best’ definitely didn’t apply.
While the two hyungs were racking their brains, Lee Cheonghyeon, the other roommate, entered the room.
“Oh, looks like both of you are struggling.”
“‘Struggling’ is an understatement. I haven’t written a single decent line.”
Lee Cheonghyeon burst into laughter at my words.
Is it funny? Is my suffering amusing to you?
“But hyung, you know.”
Lee Cheonghyeon put his arm around my shoulder and said,
“The important things for work are deadlines and pressure.”
Those were the words I had said to him when he first started composing.
That karma had now returned to me.
“Hyung.”
Lee Cheonghyeon’s deep, blue-hole-like eyes gazed at me intently.
His lips curved like a rainbow after the rain, and his cheeks were round like organic extra-large eggs.
“You believe that with enough pressure, a person can do anything, right?”
“…”
“Let’s start with a brainstorming session, filled with deep thoughts!”
Lee Cheonghyeon’s cheerful voice lashed at my back like a whip.
Despite coming to torment me with an angelic face, Lee Cheonghyeon diligently helped Choi Jeho and me.
“Thinking of it as writing from scratch might be making it harder.”
“The fans send us letters, right? Try thinking of it as writing a reply to them.”
Listening to the master instructor, Choi Jeho and I poured all our energy into writing the lyrics.
Thankfully, after receiving his help, it felt less like a confessional of all my sins…
“No, Jeho hyung. Just writing the word ‘love’ ten times doesn’t make it a song.”
…Never mind. I should probably read it again before showing it to Lee Cheonghyeon.
***
The concept for Spark’s first fan song, ‘Third Letter’, was ‘The Boys We Loved Back Then’.
You read that right. That’s exactly what the storyboard said.
“We’re ‘The Boys We Loved Back Then’?”
I saw the skeptical expression on Kang Kiyeon’s face.
Yeah, you must find it strange, too. No matter how I look at it, not a single one of you looks remotely ‘lovely.’
“Don’t worry, guys. With your faces, you can definitely pull it off!”
The staff member who had been meticulously prepping Jeong Seongbin’s face said.
Um… wouldn’t we be more suited as the disciplinary committee standing guard at the school gates?
There was at least one person who might pass as ‘lovable’. That was Lee Cheonghyeon.
But that love wasn’t the romantic kind.
The kind of love Lee Cheonghyeon’s face embodied was…
‘Agape.’
Except now, the love was flowing in the opposite direction.
Look at that face, blessed with the affection of the entire universe. Not just us back then—even the schoolyard itself must have loved Lee Cheonghyeon.
‘Or should we go for a drama male lead style like Choi Jeho?’
Choi Jeho, who had tried every intense hairstyle—slicked back, half-up, you name it—had his bangs down today. This was the ‘styled down hair Choi Jeho’ that Sparklers had been longing for.
Uncomfortable with his forehead completely covered, Choi Jeho kept ruffling his bangs. And he got scolded by the stylist.
A soft, delicate look was nice and all, but we couldn’t skip out on showing off some physique either. I boldly made a suggestion to the stylist.
“Wouldn’t it be better if Choi Jeho rolled up his sleeves? His forearms should be visible.”
“You think so too, Iwol?”
Choi Jeho looked at me with an exasperated expression, but I ignored him.
You’re going to be dribbling a basketball in the music video anyway. It would be a crime not to show off your tendons while dribbling.
Park Joowoo was playing the role of the artsy senior in the art club. His brown apron and paint-stained hands were a perfect match.
“Having paint stains on his face would give it a more nostalgic feel, wouldn’t it?”
“Their faces are perfect as they are. We shouldn’t put anything on them.”
“Don’t you know that a little imperfection makes people go crazy? Just two brushstrokes on his cheek, no more, no less.”
While Park Joowoo himself remained unbothered, the makeup artists around him were fiercely debating.
I also belonged to the ‘Spark’s faces are most beautiful when left untouched…’ faction, but lacking expertise in first love aesthetics, I remained silent.
Just then, the epitome of first love walked towards us.
“Hyung, are you ready?”
A gentle smile. A neat school uniform. And an analog watch on his wrist, a rare sight in this era of smartwatches.
He had an image befitting the only member of Spark born in spring. As expected, Jeong Seongbin, you’re the embodiment of gentleness in this team.
On the other hand, I… wouldn’t bother examining myself. I knew I didn’t exactly look like someone’s first love.
Kang Kiyeon wasn’t much different from me.
He had a small clip-on earring on his ear—he couldn’t wear a piercing since he hadn’t gotten his ears pierced—as if he had sold his ties to buy an earring, and he was also wearing bandages on several fingers.
And yet, he was clutching wired earphones and an mp3 player in his hand.
“What was your concept again?”
I asked, even though I knew the answer.
Kang Kiyeon answered without hesitation.
“The quiet guy in the back corner of the classroom.”
“Excellent portrayal.”
At my compliment, Kang Kiyeon’s expression turned slightly vague.
I wondered how visually stunning the music video would turn out. I looked forward to it.
***
Work, much like a persistent weed, might shrink but never truly disappeared. Just as the fan song was wrapping up, the fan club issue came crashing in.
A typical idol group would reveal their fandom name and light stick around the time of their fan club launch.
But UA had a massive obstacle: Yoo Hansoo.
Because I had to block his meddling, we’d revealed the fandom name at the same time as our debut. Now, all that was left was creating the official fan club kit and light stick.
Actually, even the fan club kit wasn’t easy to put together. The ID card and rolling paper were fine, but the overall composition felt too much like a budget package.
‘The proportion of paper-based goods seems too high. This will definitely spark debates about cost-efficiency, and if there’s one thing we can’t have, it’s Spark fans—who joined the fan club out of love—complaining about a cheap-looking kit.’
So, I put everything on hold. I handed it over to Jeong Seongbin, who had a broader understanding of idol culture than me. He would take the lead in improving the lineup.
Meanwhile, UA—lacking much experience in producing official merchandise—decided to release Spark’s first official goods.
When I saw the first lineup and samples… I was speechless. UA was notorious for its terrible merchandise.
Thanks to the dedicated team, the goods looked slightly better than the ones I had proxy-bought before.
But that didn’t mean they were good.
‘I agree that Cheonghyeon’s face is practically a gemstone just by existing.’
‘Right?’
‘But I don’t think fans want a giant Cheonghyeon-face keychain dangling from their backpacks.’
The key to idol merchandise had always been how much it fueled fan excitement and whether it could be used discreetly.
Just slapping a picture on something and calling it merchandise? They’d be ripped apart online for being lazy.
In the end, I stepped in, saying, ‘I just happen to have a great idea~’, and started selling my pitch.
Fortunately, the dedicated team caught on quickly, and from the second lineup onwards, they started presenting a list that wouldn’t get us ridiculed.
So far, so good.
The problem was that UA was planning to do something atrocious: limited quantity sales.
‘You’re doing a first-come, first-served sale without disclosing the total stock?’
I almost fainted. I remembered how much Sparklers had raged about UA’s practices in the past.
≫ Are you f***ing kidding me? I want to buy the merch, and you’re not even selling it?!
≫ I have money! Why can’t I buy it…? Please, just take my money…
≫ Are you brain-dead? It always sells out in 30 minutes, so why do you keep apologizing after every sold-out? Even goldfish have better learning abilities
≫ Limiting the quantity because you don’t want leftover stock is so pathetic. Please, just have some faith in your idols. We get it, you don’t want to lose a single penny. Just increase the quantity, damn it!
They didn’t understand how much anger limiting official merchandise to a small quantity would incite.
I understood the company’s aversion to losses. But what was the point if it upset the fans?
So, I went and staged a protest by lying down on the floor of UA.
‘There’s this great method called pre-orders, Team Leader-nim.’
‘But Iwol, what if we end up with leftover stock…?’
‘I know a cheap warehouse. I’ll book it all. So please, anything but limited sales!’
‘You don’t have to book anything, just get up! Why are you lying on the floor!’
‘Spark does all the work, the fans suffer, and the distributors take all the profit! Who are these merchs even for?!’
I understood that they couldn’t readily mass-produce goods because we didn’t have a massive fandom, but at least they should make sure that everyone who wanted to buy could buy it.  Especially as an entertainment company dealing with fans.
After going through all this, I did a lot of thinking.
I pondered while sitting on my bed, and contemplated while sitting at the kitchen table.
And then I came to a sad conclusion.
I would just have to keep working…