It was closing in on three in the morning.
The Spark dorm was chaos. Everyone had their suitcases open, getting ready to film the packing content. To a stranger, it would have looked exactly like a group getting ready to run away from home.
When I said we’d tank the shoot if we packed like maniacs, Spark agreed to take turns—pack in order and film in turns.
“Given how much airtime each group gets, we don’t need tons of footage. Let’s do three at a time, by roommates.”
“Then should we shoot our room first?”
“Yeah. Seongbin, first check whether Giyeon and Juu have bags worth using.”
A moment later they called that they were ready, and I headed to Jeong Seongbin’s room with the camcorder.
On the cramped floor, three suitcases lay spread open and jammed together.
One of them really caught the eye.
Cute characters covered a fluorescent yellow-green hard case from top to bottom.
“Whose intensely ‘individual’ suitcase is that?”
Thinking it was Kang Giyeon’s—he’s the one who likes comics—I asked, but no: it was Jeong Seongbin’s. Apparently borrowed from Jeong Seongjun again. At this point I wondered if Jeong Seongjun had any household goods left at home.
“What have you packed so far?”
“Change of clothes and toiletries. Are we each packing our own pajamas, or do we bring team practice sets?”
“If the dorm’s AC is centrally controlled, it could be cold. Pack one short set and one long set.”
At my words, Kang Giyeon nodded and put one black warm-up and one training set into his case.
“I’ll bring all our vitamins in one go!”
With brisk precision, Jeong Seongbin portioned out supplements for the members. He’s thorough before anyone asks. What would you do without him?
“Guys, packing is great, but heads up, please. Your faces are too backlit.”
“Okay...!”
I wedged myself into the corner, trying my best to get their faces and their bags in frame.
I hope the Royal Secretariat production staff appreciate how pathetically I’m contorting myself to shoot this. Camera directors, fighting.
I did the final check on all three bags.
“Giyeon, pack one heat patch separately. Juu, toss in a honey stick just in case. Seongbin, did our dorm have a polaroid camera?”
“Yeah. Should I bring it?”
“Do. We probably won’t get a moment to take extra photos, but you never know.”
Too little prep can be a problem; too much never hurts. There’s a reason peddlers survive.
For our room’s segment, the filming fell to Kang Giyeon.
“This room never has anything, no matter when I come in.”
He said it, and Lee Cheonghyeon chuckled, shrugging.
“You two hyungs are both minimalists. I’m happy—I get more places to put my stuff.”
Just like he said, Choi Jeho’s case had practically nothing in it. I wondered if he’d even packed spare clothes.
“Are you... a one-outfit gentleman?”
“I put them in the front pocket.”
“All your clothes fit in there?”
At that rate, didn’t he just pack underwear?
Nah, he surely packed on his own. He’s twenty-one.
No—but what if he didn’t? Should I tell him to pack a jacket at least?
In a split second, I agonized fifty times.
And decided.
“You—repack your clothes right in front of me.”
Time to act bold for the camera.
As expected, Choi Jeho couldn’t resist. The brainwashing paid off—be meek like a newborn lamb whenever a camera points at you.
No sooner had he crammed in all his clothes than he slipped out.
He returned carrying a mood lamp.
“You’re packing that now?”
“Yeah. We’re shooting overnight, right?”
“What about tonight, then? If you pack it now, you can’t use it tonight.”
“Oh.”
Oh? Ohhh?
What on earth does Deputy Nam’s daughter see in this guy?
Aside from the exotic face, shoulders wider than a keyboard, a V-tapered torso, and that smooth line from thigh to knee, I mean.
We’ve lived together for over a year, and I still don’t know.
“What did you pack, hyung?”
Kang Giyeon came over to my suitcase and asked.
In the worn case the System dumped on me were a few changes of clothes, a diary, and a pile of skincare.
“This is toner for everyone to share; this one’s toner for Juu...”
“We’re bringing two toners?”
“Juu’s skin is sensitive; he can’t use just anything.”
Back on one of our rare outdoor shoots, Park Juu used the wrong sunscreen and his skin went to hell. So many Sparklers were heartbroken.
My finger joints almost died retouching that. I will never let anyone suffer that again.
“Your bag’s going to be heavy, hyung. You’re packing first-aid too, right? If you’re out of room, put it in my bag!”
“Say Cheonghyeon’s hands start bleeding right now. Is it faster to open a suitcase, or the crossbody?”
“...I’ll go get the crossbody!”
“Good.”
Only after I made that feckless kid Lee Cheonghyeon fetch motion-sickness meds and every other pill under the sun did we finally finish filming the packing content.
Praying the dorm would be nearby, I checked that the footage had recorded cleanly to the camcorder and flopped onto the bed.
The day of group dorms dawned.
I didn’t have a good feeling. From morning, I was seeing things.
In the upper right of my vision, a tiny number “3” hovered. No matter how hard I rubbed my eyes, it didn’t vanish.
I wondered if it was the System, but it felt different from the System so far.
“An update?”
Sometimes the dev team pushes updates and weird crap pops up on the site. And approvals are time-eaters like Deputy Nam; a mistake wouldn’t be shocking.
With filming ahead, I couldn’t exactly go to ophthalmology, so I chose to ignore it.
The heat was brutal too. At the shop I said, “Please put two layers of sunscreen on their faces!” and the stylist went, “Iwol, you go get a tan!”
This is how idols get told to tan, and why every vacation Cheonghyeon roasts himself and the fans’ hearts roast and my sanity burns...
I swear, if positive posts hadn’t flooded the community the night before, I would have shaken these brats down like a rug.
≫ Spark hit legendary today
Stage was freaking gorgeous......
└ Are we sure that was a competition stage ㅠㅠ It felt like a concert
≫ Today’s fairy-tale-book survival stage
was Spark’s “Starlight.”
Hair-makeup-coord + props + stage direction were perfect,
felt like watching a music video even though it was a stage!
└ Arrangement seemed well done ㅇㅇ and the stage was pretty
└ I worried because the original is god-tier, but my jaw dropped at the final direction
└ Changing the theme from love for a lover to affection for a research subject was great ㅠ
≫ Even in the idea meeting I wondered what on earth they’d do,
and then they did this lolol
Our kids are loaded with genius, how could they not be
If you argue otherwise, everything you say is wrong
Thanks to that, monitoring was genuinely fun. I even shared a few to the group chat. Everyone had packed and crashed, so they only saw it in the morning.
“Do we just wait here?”
Jeong Seongbin reconfirmed the holding area with the camera director.
Since this wasn’t a studio shoot, the broadcaster sent a tour bus that would swing by and pick up the nearest teams first.
Spark’s dorm sits farthest out on the edge of Seoul, so we ended up last. Good thing we’re idols, not office workers commuting every day.
The bus arrived twenty minutes later than scheduled—guess the team before us had delays. I nearly died trying to fill dead time and not let the energy dip.
The hard-won bus carried a big banner.
“~Let’s go for Baekjung Nori~,” it read.
If it’s not a retreat, maybe they finally wanted to do something worthy of “Idol Royal Secretariat.” The timing’s a tad early, but by the time the episode airs it’ll roughly line up.
Onboard, the 45-seater was almost full. Strangely, a few seats were empty here and there.
“Assigned seating?”
Sure enough, small slips of paper were taped to the headrests.
I have two ears, and five people are about to sit in their spots and say unnecessary things I’ll have to hear. I was already tired.
If it’s assigned seats anyway, better I sit with Parte or Allover.
And of course the empty seat next to Song Minil is open.
Why him. If it were Han Gaun, we could at least talk singing.
I was cursing up a storm in my head when someone far off waved big.
“Iwol! Your seat is here!”
It was actually an Allover member. The one who’d teamed with Choi Jeho for a unit—who will, in the future, go to prison.
For a second I wanted to cry out that I get severe motion sickness and collapse to the floor.
The bus warmed right up.
Paired-off cast members chattered away in twos.
Even that Choi Jeho was talking to someone.
And...
“Iwol, want something to drink?”
“No thank you. I appreciate the thought.”
...only I and Allover’s Seo Yunseop were locked in a soul-sucking game of silent chicken.
Keeping your mouth shut on camera is a sin. I know.
But this punk gets busted for drugs, okay? Not even solo—he gets dragged in as distribution after offering them to colleagues.
I’d rather take a few punches than get tied to a Royal Secretariat drug cartel by talking to a guy like this.
Maybe it’s not time yet, but honestly I’m suspicious of what’s in that drink right now. I’d rather eat dry crackers without water.
“What do you do when you’re stressed, Iwol?”
“I don’t really get stressed.”
Normally you return the question out of courtesy, but I won’t. This guy will be relieving stress with drugs soon enough.
I’m already labeled the rude brat who doesn’t even greet senior groups properly. Adding “spacing out on the tour bus” to the rap sheet ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) won’t change much, so I stayed quiet—and Seo Yunseop tried again.
“I heard Cheonghyeon composes in Spark?”
“Yeah. He’s arranging the competition track too.”
“I see. That’s impressive. Isn’t he still pretty young?”
He is impressive.
Even if he did music before, Lee Cheonghyeon’s growth has been shocking. Every time others notice, his genius feels palpable.
Compared to the results he’s pulling...
“He’s very young.”
A few rows up, I could see the round crown of his head. Whatever had him so happy, he was beaming and chatting with the person next to him—who I couldn’t see.
“If he’s that young and composing, that’s a lot of pressure.”
“Thankfully, he still seems to be enjoying it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
How many idols who compose find music doesn’t suit them, anyway. I didn’t feel like being sincere, so I left it at that. Be grateful I didn’t abandon social grace and kept smiling.
Despite my half-hearted attitude, Seo Yunseop kept at it.
“Still, creation isn’t easy. Inspiration isn’t infinite, you know? Right?”
“Ha, you don’t say.”
I am blissfully ignorant mankind who knows jack about creation.
So please stop taking an interest in members of other groups and...
“Wait.”
The back of my head prickled.
I looked from Seo Yunseop next to me to Lee Cheonghyeon grinning up ahead.
And then, fleetingly, a rumor I’d skimmed flashed through my mind.
≫ Is it true LCH was addicted?
He’d been booked by police, but the results came back negative and it fizzled.
But that was the very issue that once got every brand to drop Lee Cheonghyeon from their ads.
