As Ha Seomyeong said, it didn’t take long for an offer to arrive at UA. They’d be grateful, they said, if a member from Spark—the same group as actor Kim Iwol, who’s currently filming a drama—could record an OST starting from Episode 6.
It was exactly what I’d hoped for, but I hadn’t thought it was possible. I’d assumed they’d go with a proven, established singer.
But in the meantime, Jeong Seongbin had blown up properly.
With his appearance on “I’m the Best,” even so-called muggles acknowledged his skill. That probably influenced this offer.
The problem was how far Park Juu would be asked to step back from vocal activities.
Back in the IAD position battle and again this time, if the turn went to Jeong Seongbin, then Park Juu—who’s also a main vocal—would have missed out three times.
I agree that opportunities should go to those with ability. I also know chances don’t come to everyone equally.
Even so, “Is it right to hand to Park Juu an opportunity earned by Jeong Seongbin’s ability?” is a different question.
He’s already giving up a lot.
I’ve given Choi Jeho, Kang Giyeon, Lee Cheonghyeon, and Jeong Seongbin plenty of chances to stand out.
But I haven’t managed that for Park Juu. Because the timing wasn’t right, because the flow made it that way, because that’s just how it ended up.
So after hearing about the offer from Ha Seomyeong, I parked myself at the UA office.
And the moment a related call came in, I begged, “Let me talk to the kids first! Please don’t gather them and announce it out of the blue!”
After reserving a meeting room, setting out two milk packs, and secretly summoning Park Juu without telling Jeong Seongbin, I finally had the space for a conversation.
“...Did something happen?”
Park Juu asked, holding a milk pack with both hands. His expression couldn’t have been more anxious.
“It’s not that. I just wanted to talk with you.”
I poked a straw into the pack and took a sip. My throat was still dry.
“Juu, I’m asking this because I genuinely want to know.”
“Okay.”
“In the IAD position battle, I ended up going out. Did you have any regrets about that?”
He’s quiet by nature, but Park Juu isn’t the type who constantly watches other people’s eyes.
Face to face, he’s probably as straightforward as—or even more than—Kang Giyeon. In that sense, it was better to pitch him a straight ball.
As expected, he answered cleanly.
“No.”
“Really?”
“I was bummed I didn’t get to sing ‘New World’... but I wasn’t disappointed about not going out as Spark’s representative.”
As he said it, he slowly peeled open the attached straw wrapper.
“What about when Seongbin got to go on ‘I’m the Best’?”
“It was the same then.”
He smiled a little—a relieved smile, realizing this wasn’t an interrogation.
I wish he’d at least feel a prickle of danger in here.
How am I supposed to send this gentle soul into the rough idol world?
“The drama I’m filming... the ‘In My Office’ team sent UA a request for OST participation.”
He showed no special reaction. He just kept slowly fitting the straw into the pack.
“It’s a classic ballad. Because I’m an idol, the offer came to Spark, and I think they were picturing Seongbin.”
“That makes sense. ‘I’m the Best’ had buzz.”
“I think this should go to Seongbin as first priority. If, as a fellow main vocal, you feel that’s unfair, I think we should hear that out too.”
At my words, he gently rocked side to side. Then he closed his eyes for a moment, sank into thought, opened them, and stared off in a little daze, as if following a line of reasoning.
Back when I was a proxy stan, I would’ve thought that was the attitude of someone who couldn’t focus at all. Now I know. That’s how Park Juu organizes his thoughts.
As expected, he soon nodded.
“Mm... I’m done organizing.”
“Great. Take your time and tell me.”
He took a sip of milk and said:
“First, I think the OST should be Seongbin’s. If you put # Nоvеlight # him first, you had your reasons.”
“You don’t have to factor in my viewpoint...”
“For me, your thoughts are part of my criteria.”
Quiet but firm. He doesn’t speak up often, but when he does, he states what he means clearly.
“I don’t feel it’s unfair. If something that suits me comes along, then my turn will come.”
“You trust me that much?”
“Rather than trust... you promised.”
He stared at a spot on the desk. His fingertip tapped the pack with an easy rhythm.
“You’ve kept everything you said. We kept the debut concept, and we’ve had several No. 1 stages on IAD.”
His gaze came back to me. There was a smile at the end of his steady look.
“So I’m waiting for my turn. Until we play in a band together and do hard-hitting songs.”
“...”
“I can wait until then. It’s not that I don’t have ambitions or can’t let myself want things... so don’t worry.”
“Oh, man.”
Watching him suck on the milk straw, I couldn’t help sighing.
I’m going to keep giving this tiny guy those killer high notes, and the guilt makes me want to bury my head.
While I was sighing a thousand times inside, he said:
“More than that, you’re a hypocrite.”
“What?”
“You don’t know...? When I do it, it’s romance.”
“Hey, what idol talks like that!”
Seeing me flustered, he thought hard and offered a new term.
“Then... uh... you’re an INA-man.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If I do it, it’s yielding; if others do it, it’s being a pushover.”
“Who? Who’s using the unseemly word ‘pushover’ in the dorm?”
“Jeho.”
“Don’t come to our room for a while. You’re only going to learn worse.”
My head hurt. How am I supposed to shut Choi Jeho’s mouth? Tape it shut with some kind of waterproof breathing bandage?
Watching me fume, he said:
“You were worried I didn’t have any solo schedules, right?”
“Huh?”
“...Even though you hate standing out.”
I’d half expected he’d guessed. In some ways, we’re similar—our temperament, things like that.
“For the team, if I need to step forward, I should.”
“Right.”
He murmured:
“Right...”
And then he repeated it. Deliberately.
I shook the two milk packs to check if there was any left.
I even picked up the plastic trash, and I was about to clear the room when he called after me.
“Hyung.”
“Yeah, what is it?”
“I remember promises really well.”
The corners of his mouth lifted slightly but clearly. A gentle smile.
“So don’t forget.”
And just like that, it was decided that the latter-half OST for my drama would be sung by Jeong Seongbin.
Filming a drama takes a whole lot more time than you’d think.
Sometimes you wonder, “We’re doing all this in a day?” and other times, time drags like molasses.
Today was the latter. Maybe because the two leads’ rooftop scene wasn’t wrapping, the wait stretched on and on.
At lunch hour, every rooftop you look at is full of people smoking. I guess the roof at My Assets Management is a no-smoking zone.
After this, the team leader has a scene where he loses his temper in a big way and storms out.
There’s never a calm day at Hanpyeong Industries or My Assets Management. Right, and it wouldn’t feel right without UA mixed in here somewhere.
No. No idle thoughts while working. Focus, focus.
Here’s the situation.
The team leader and the assistant manager have been clashing hard. Team Leader Ji barked, “Assistant Seon, come with me. Now!” and headed to the roof.
What should the teammates do until those two come back?
What else? Cover our eyes and ears and pretend to work.
I pulled up an investor-relations disclosure for a fictional company on one side of my monitor—one of the images we’d been told to have on screen during office scenes.
But this...
It was better made than I expected.
The numbers on the balance sheet matched perfectly. Same with the income statement.
At this level, I could at least estimate market cap and throw a few graphs together.
Since I’ve got dual monitors, if I split them two-by-two and put up the disclosure, a web spreadsheet, a news screenshot, and a KOSPI graphic...
Even a furious boss would think this employee is working his tail off. I was genuinely proud.
It had been a while since I’d plotted graphs with functions. Just then, the far corner of the set got noisy. Looked like the two leads had finished the rooftop scene and were coming down.
“We’ll roll the office cut in ten minutes!”
The first assistant director shouted. Time to put on my dead-eyed office drone performance again.
