The official name on the record was “First Spark Fan Meeting Planning Session.”
But in my head it kept mutating into “Emergency Committee for the Great Escape from the Dead-Boring Fan Meeting.”
I had no intention of watching another one of those pointless fan meetings where neither fans nor idols seem to have anything to say. I would make sure we prepared properly.
The one saving grace was that the Spark brats were extremely enthusiastic about preparing the fan meeting.
I figured at least one or two would suggest handing the fan meeting off to a dedicated team, but every single one of them insisted they wanted to prepare it themselves. Unexpected.
Which is why we were all gathered on the practice room floor, spreading scrap paper and laptops everywhere.
Jeong Seongbin skimmed through a list of past idol groups’ fan-meeting content and said,
“First off, we have to include a Q&A with fans, right?”
Knew it—he’s not clueless. Surveys and Q&A, plus Post-it questions, are indispensable channels for communication.
“Looks like people do a lot of cosplay too. Like movie or animation characters...”
“Oh, I was looking at that too.”
At Park Juu’s comment, Kang Giyeon chimed in.
“Makeup’s good. As an event element, everyone would probably love it.”
Lee Cheonghyeon was interested as well. Judging from his word choice, this guy clearly didn’t know what cosplay actually was.
“It’s not just putting makeup on your face.”
When I added that, a question mark popped up on Lee Cheonghyeon’s face.
After he took a sheet of paper from Park Juu, Lee Cheonghyeon’s face turned to surprise.
“What’s this? You dress up exactly like the character?”
“Yup. Beyond what you were imagining, right?”
“That’s insane! I really want to do this!”
I remembered something somebody once said on SNS about this kind of thing.
What was it again. A sufficiently advanced muggle is indistinguishable from an otaku...?
“We’re singing too, right? I was thinking if we rearrange ‘With List’ as acoustic, the mood would be perfect. It’s fall—what do you think?”
Then Lee Cheonghyeon lamented that nobody in our team could play acoustic guitar.
“Acoustic guitar is perfect for this vibe!”
“If someone here knew how to play it, we’d be a band idol group, not an idol group.”
Choi Jeho grumbled. At that moment, Jeong Seongbin stepped in, a little sheepish.
“Uh... if the chords aren’t too complicated, I can play.”
So we do have someone who can play. I could practically hear the torch being lit on Park Juu’s longing for a band-idol concept. I glanced over and, sure enough, his eyes were spinning.
“Then I’m doing this, okay? Got it? Consider it approved!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Smiling, Jeong Seongbin calmed the excited Lee Cheonghyeon.
“We should also do Giyeon’s random-play dance again—the Royal Secretariat hot topic.”
At my words, Kang Giyeon’s face flushed.
But that’s just a fact. After he tore up that random-play dance, Kang Giyeon’s name recognition shot through the roof.
His other stage fancams even resurfaced along with it. There’s no way we’re not milking this content.
“The eldest line should each do something too, right?”
Twiddling a pen with a teasing tone, Lee Cheonghyeon said,
“Sorry, but don’t lump Choi Jeho and me together. I consider our being the same age the end of our karmic tie in this life.”
“Like I wanted to be lumped with you.”
Not backing down, Choi Jeho muttered. Only the kind-hearted Jeong Seongbin tried to package the relationship between the two of us.
“Aw, why are you both like this? You usually get along.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Those two don’t say a single word in their room.”
Thanks to Lee Cheonghyeon’s merciless exposé, that effort went up in smoke.
But joking aside, I really didn’t want to get entangled with Choi Jeho.
First off, my stats were way too lacking. I know our generous fans try to package us as “eldest with different drawing styles,” but the intensity of his visuals and mine were on completely different planets.
Same with skill. Even when we move the same, they say Choi Jeho has dance lines, whereas all I ever hear is “Our Iwol always keeps his angles!”
I’m practicing hard, trying at least to catch up to the others’ toe tips, but the reality is that the moment I stand next to Choi Jeho I turn into a slug. It’s so depressing I can barely stand it.
And this part is closer to my true feelings...
Ever since I got my memory data back, he’s felt awkward again.
Meaning the anger I felt toward Choi Jeho right after I regressed came back.
To be fair, he didn’t do anything wrong. If there’s any fault, it’s only that he stood out so much he also stood out to Manager Nam’s daughter.
Besides, my negative emotions are being held in check by the System. If not for that, my feelings wouldn’t have stopped at mere awkwardness with him.
Being around him makes me vaguely uneasy, so I didn’t want to create any joint tasks with him for the time being if I could help it.
“Or we can do a balance game. Make Iwol the main dancer vs. send Juu on a solo variety show.”
“Our Giyeon’s got a talent for making balance games.”
I applauded wildly at Kang Giyeon’s idea. Park Juu’s face went pale.
“Guys, your fan-club kit physical sample is here!”
“Really?”
At Jookyung’s call, we dropped practice and headed up to the conference room. A big navy box sat on the table.
Even against a deep navy background, the box didn’t feel dark at all—brilliant fireworks were printed all over it. Round fireworks in vivid colors evoked a festival.
Around the A in Spark’s official styling “spArk,” tiny fireworks were dotted like a Ferris wheel, which fit great.
There was lots of cute stuff inside.
We had begged to include two copies—one to keep, one to use—because fans won’t use stickers carelessly, and there they were: member-by-member autograph plus handwritten-message stickers, the group activity report from the “Flowering” era, and the six-cut life photos from the “With List” days, neatly tucked in. On the group-activity report’s name field we left the last box empty so fans could write their name or nickname.
“Photos... pixels aren’t broken, no stains on the postcards...”
While the others were busy checking out the kit, I was the only one busy looking for flaws. That’s what I get for developing the habit of opening courier packages on behalf of others and filming videos of it.
“Wow, the diary is... it looks actually practical.”
Excitedly flipping through the diary, Lee Cheonghyeon’s voice suddenly turned calm.
“Right? I’m thinking I might switch to this too.”
Before long, Kang Giyeon was asking Jookyung if he could get the diary by joining the fan club himself.
Sure, we worked hard with Shade Love on the collaboration to make it pretty without losing practicality! I picked every single inner page imagining it as the diary I would use!
But if you guys start using it, you’ll be blatantly turning into idols who push fans to join the club for personal gain!
There were other things in there too, but personally I loved the 12-card photo set we poured heart and soul into. All six members had cards split into an idol version and a daily-life version.
To make the daily-life cards, I had to raid everything stored up on my external drives.
Among them, I’d pick, hands-down, the shot of Kang Giyeon smiling fresh among soap bubbles as my one pick.
His face held both the coolness of a fountain and the warmth of sunlight. I swear there was a rainbow sheen in the bubbles and on his face.
If I’d submitted it somewhere other than UA, I’m sure the Kang Giyeon photo would’ve won Photo of the Year. Be grateful, UA.
“So we’re really going to have a fan club now.”
Jeong Seongbin’s voice trembled. Even without looking, I could tell he was moved.
“Right. Everyone’s busy, but let’s push just a little more until the fan meeting. Fighting!”
“Fighting!”
Everyone shouted with spirit.
My heart shook. It was a different kind of tension than a signing event.
Won Chae-hui. Twenty-seven. Once had a flashy career as a fansite photographer, but quit the idol scene, swearing never to set foot on it again, after his ultimate bias became a club VIP—an old hand at K-pop.
He had only recently taken the sealed-away camera back out.
The appearance of a handsome man who overwhelmed the laws of physics. With the debut of a face whose visuals heralded a new era, quaking with excitement, Won Chae-hui felt that his former self had died and a new self had been born.
“Just test the waters first. These days there are guys whose character is garbage even from rookie days.”
He repeated it to himself over and over.
Meanwhile he filled out the application form on the freshly posted fan-club recruitment notice, waited for the kit, the day the kit arrived he ditched the diary he’d used well for six months in one swoop, and plastered the diary cover with the members’ handwritten-message stickers.
He really needed to fix his habit of spending money the moment he got hooked on something. Not that it was easy.
“I heard people complained about the company a lot, but I guess they’re functioning now.”
Even so, the Sparkler 1st-term kit was excellent overall. Meaning he didn’t regret the money he blew.
How many crappy pieces of merch had passed through the trash can in Won Chae-hui’s studio apartment. Stuff that made him sigh the moment he saw it. Getting rid of it all and changing camera lenses was the one thing he’d done right.
When the fan-meeting announcement dropped, he dove to the ocean floor in the community he once bookmarked and visited as routinely as eating, digging up every post about Spark.
Had these guys ever no-showed on a schedule day, did they often give half-assed reactions... Most idol nerds weary of spending time and money along with their emotions probably felt much the same as Won Chae-hui.
Fortunately, his worries were unfounded. So he decided to flex his skills again and went for ticketing. The skills that once got him into all his idol’s events as a fansite photographer were still alive.
And the moment the grape icons evaporated.
≫ @minamhunter
Anyone manage to get fan-meeting tickets?
[bang]
Anyone?
A post by a named Sparkler popped up on Won Chae-hui’s timeline.
≫ @minamhunter
Now I see why audience tickets for Royal Secretariat felt too easy
That’s where I used up all my lifetime luck
≫ @minamhunter
Guys, truly meaningful events like fan meetings are supposed to be held at Gocheok Dome
Otherwise it violates some such law
I’m going to torch UA
└ Are you the one violating some such law?
≫ @minamhunter
No one around me got tickets, how is this possible??
Are our kids already superstars????
I trust those of you going will leave generous, firework-like reports out of blazing loyalty please I’m begging please for real
SNS was hot—the competition must have been fierce.
“I guess I’ll... try to get a few decent shots if I go.”
In the cramped, harsh life of idol nerds, how do we live without helping each other. Looking at the named fan’s wail, Won Chae-hui decided to exercise charity.
