Seo Yunseop getting booked on drug charges was so famous that even people who didn’t follow idols had heard about it.
It wasn’t because Seo Yunseop was especially well known.
It was because he hadn’t done it alone. He’d done it with others—his own teammates, no less.
Not just one member in an idol group, but a whole batch turned out to be drug users. One of them was even revealed to have handled distribution.
Of course the idol scene went up in flames. Seo Yunseop’s ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) phone became evidence as-is, and every idol in his contacts got dragged through the mud.
Lee Cheonghyeon was on that list.
Publicly, there had been almost no visible link between Lee Cheonghyeon and Seo Yunseop. At most, their promotion periods overlapped so they appeared on the same broadcasts a few times.
So people assumed Lee Cheonghyeon would just be a name tossed around and then cleared like the other idols were... but—
≫ L-something Mo, don’t tell me that’s Lee Cheonghyeon?
└ Please say it isn’t... I’m seriously exhausted now
≫ tlqkf I crashed and woke up—why is the trending tab like this
≫ Mr. Lee Cheonghyeon becomes Cat President due to drug addiction
└ Delete this... there are better things to joke about on the trending tab
It turned out Lee Cheonghyeon really was addicted to a substance. It just wasn’t an illegal narcotic.
Since he hadn’t been abusing a controlled drug, there was no legal punishment.
But with fellow singers getting arrested one after another, the fact that he’d been downing meds didn’t sit right with the public either.
What was that medication again?
I tried to recall, but nothing came.
Maybe the whole regression thing turned my brain into a sponge. My head was full of holes.
And why Lee Cheonghyeon had even been exchanging messages with Seo Yunseop was a mystery.
It’s not like they had a reason to be close; they barely had any overlap.
Before, I wouldn’t have cared about any of this and would’ve just made a video like “Compilation of Other Idols Mentioning Spark,” but the situation was different now.
If that bastard Seo Yunseop had pushed something on Lee Cheonghyeon—even if it wasn’t technically a narcotic—
We’re screwed.
I didn’t know how much Lee Cheonghyeon’s genius had lit a fire under Seo Yunseop’s heart, but either way, for this training camp I needed a security detail on Lee Cheonghyeon twenty-four seven.
The bus, loaded with snooping and vigilance and a solid brick wall of caution, pulled up before long in front of a big pension in Gapyeong.
Gapyeong, huh. It felt like yesterday I hid treasure-hunt slips in a yard here and got eaten alive by bugs.
The dizzy memory stuck to my whole body, mixed with the muggy summer air.
But I had to focus.
No one wrote an article because I hid a Onepyeong Industries memo in the wrong spot, but if I failed to protect Lee Cheonghyeon properly, Spark would be plastered across the front page of entertainment news in huge font.
I wedged myself between Lee Cheonghyeon and Kang Giyeon as they rolled their suitcases toward the pension.
Then I slung an arm over each of their shoulders and said,
“Maknaes.”
“Yeah?”
“What?”
“There are a lot of people, so don’t get distracted. Stick with the hyungs. Got it?”
Behind me, Choi Jeho nagged that I should mind my own four pieces of luggage. When I turned, Jeong Seongbin was already towing my suitcase too.
The retreat hadn’t even started and my head throbbed.
“The first mission is ‘Cook your own dinner’!”
“Gasp. We have to make the whole thing ourselves?”
Someone read the mission card, and the cast rippled with chatter.
Fair enough. There were over forty mouths here. Even boiling instant noodles for that many wouldn’t be trivial.
“Wow, with this many people I don’t even know where to start.”
Someone from Allover scratched his head.
“Then should we split into a grocery team and a meal-prep team?”
At least Moon Yeongyu offered something.
“Having twenty people just on meal prep seems inefficient. A few should be enough!”
That’s where Song Minil cut in.
Yeah, that guy absolutely meant “I don’t want to do it,” no matter how he phrased it. I saw you juggling a foot volley ball before you even came in the pension, pal.
I swallowed a sigh and joined the discussion.
“Then how about we split into a grocery team, a meal-prep team, and a dishwashing team? We’ll need cleanup too, so dividing front and back roles would be good. Also good for filling broadcast runtime!”
People who don’t want to work still won’t. If you’re going to slack, at least earn some screen time.
“We’ll be back!”
With a lively shout, the grocery team headed out. A Log member took the wheel.
And I was getting dragged along because, apparently, I am the brightest intellect in the Royal Secretariat universe.
“Writers, how much are we allowed to spend?”
“What’s the card limit?!”
The writers, watching the idols bounce off the walls, begged us to please, please go with that team.
I followed, thinking cynically that bringing me wouldn’t actually change anything...
“How much ssamjang and gochujang do we need? Two tubs each?”
“I checked the cupboard—there’s gochujang. Let’s just buy ssamjang.”
“Should we grab ten bags of these wrap greens?”
“Since we’re buying in bulk, separate items will be cheaper than a mixed pack. Please get lettuce and perilla leaves, separately.”
Watching three shopping carts get stuffed at random made it obvious why the writers had sent me.
But why did I also have to police the network card limit? It’s not even a UA card.
“Whoa, they sell yukhoe here! Should we do brisket doenjang-jjigae with a yukhoe bibimbap set?”
“That’s insane. Buy it now.”
...
“Hyung, beer—yes?”
“Ugh, if it weren’t for the underage kids, I’d toss it right in.”
“What if only the adults drink? The babies can have soda.”
...
“Aren’t we buying way too many snacks? This is definitely going to be left over.”
“Eh, someone will eat it.”
What, did none of you learn basic consideration in ethics class?
What if someone can’t eat raw meat and you plan to mix every bowl with yukhoe?
And you want to buy alcohol when half the group are minors? Do you want a collective underage drinking scandal to chop all our heads off?
Who said “someone will eat it”? Do you think random people exist to clean up leftovers from celebrities? Even the way you talk pisses me off.
My insides burned black. Talking to Spark never made me this frustrated, but right now my organs felt twisted.
I had no choice but to shake down all three carts like I was wringing the neck of a rat.
Then I deployed the skill I honed yanking a stealth-slipped clicky keyboard out of the shopping bag the owner’s son tried to jam in, and saved two hundred thousand won.
I chipped in toward stage production, so I’ll let it go this time. Next time, I’m pretending I saw nothing.
Is there anything as meaningless as role division?
Once upon a time I was in HR. Back then my job was registering new hires, tracking annual and monthly leave, posting job ads and scheduling interviews, talent search, buying office supplies, processing separations, checking building cleaning status, appeasing executives, issuing documents, that kind of thing.
But an HR manager at Onepyeong Industries had to do more.
For example: proxy idol stanning, hanging a building sign, picking a locked door, manually cracking a PC password a leaver didn’t clear, instant noodle errands, reading the CEO’s autobiography aloud... fuck.
Point is, splitting roles doesn’t mean much on the ground.
Look at me now. I just got back from groceries and I’m already wearing work gloves, lining a drum with charcoal.
Maybe it’s because there are so many people that one or two slackers don’t stand out; more than half the guys were saying, “What should I do?” and then doing nothing.
At least Choi Jeho, who learned how to light charcoal from me in our last self-content, was blasting the torch on his own.
He deftly lit newspaper and moved the flame to the briquettes. Finally, someone living up to the group’s name.
“Hyung, should I do it?”
“Kids don’t handle fire. Giyeon, go wash the vegetables.”
Even in this chaos, Spark neatly found their tasks. Compared to the days when they froze on variety shows, they were on a different level.
I was proud, but I wasn’t going to make only Spark work. If that happened, I wasn’t letting it slide.
While I was snorting like a yaksha, Yeo Seongchan showed up with Moon Yeongyu to find me.
“Hyung, stop and head in! Me and Yeongyu will grill the meat.”
“Just you two? Do you know how many mouths there are?”
“We’ll call the others over. Ah, the Allover hyungs said they wanted to try grilling.”
“No. I’ll grill. I’m really good at it.”
At the word Allover, I snatched the tray and tongs from Yeo Seongchan in a panic. I wasn’t about to risk some ‘druggy pork belly’ level disaster.
“Wouldn’t you rather sit and eat comfortably?”
“I have outdoor-grilling pride. Please let me grill.”
After some pleading with Moon Yeongyu, I managed to secure one drum.
While I was grilling through a haze of smoke, Moon Yeongyu struck up a conversation.
“Hyung, I heard you got chewed out by Juu after our stage?”
“Who said that?”
“Seongbin. We shared the bus earlier. I heard it then.”
Looked like the leaders had ended up together. If you’ve got a good table like that, discuss something constructive.
“Don’t even start. Calming him down was rough.”
“Still, Spark really seems close. Just talking to them for a minute, they all seem like good kids.”
“The members are all good.”
They sometimes cause unbelievable accidents, but I admit they’re kind.
“Isn’t Verion close too?”
“We’re all the same age, you know.”
What, you think we’re far apart in age?
...Or are we? With me, maybe we are?
While I was mulling it over, someone held out a plate piled high with meat. It was Jeong Seongbin.
“Hyung, eat while you grill.”
“What about you? Did you eat some?”
“There’s a lot of meat over there. Don’t worry and eat. You too, Yeongyu hyung!”
Jeong Seongbin flashed his easy smile.
That’s Seongbin for you. A true leader of our times who never leaves a single member neglected at the charcoal drum.
I was enjoying a lettuce wrap dusted with stray ash when a completely unexpected guest arrived.
Members of Log came over, pulling on work gloves.
“Alright, Mr. Iwol and Mr. Yeongyu, go eat now!”
Log pushed me and Moon Yeongyu toward the tables. Then they each grabbed a set of tongs, loaded the plates they brought with the meat we’d grilled, and handed them to us.
“Sunbae, I can keep grilling...”
“Ah, no. We ate plenty!”
“The younger ones were worrying that Iwol hyung never gets to eat. Go eat. Our maknae, are you watching this?”
“Hey, you take good care of yourself!”
Once Log joined in, the scene turned rowdy in an instant.
When I looked toward the tables, sure enough, Park Juu and three others—Choi Jeho was focused solely on his own bowl—were staring holes through me.
It’s been ages since I had pork belly. They should eat a lot themselves.
I trudged over, pulled off my gloves, and ate the meat I’d just grilled.
Maybe it was because it’d been so long since I’d had something this fatty, but it was damn good.
