Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols

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Only one thought hit me the moment I saw it.

"Worth getting mad about."

He’d asked for just one thing—no family talk—and they’d ignored it this blatantly. It’d be weird not to be angry.

This topic was uncomfortable for me too. My only “Children’s Day memory” was running away to the neighborhood playground to avoid relatives who weren’t going to work because it was a holiday.

Swallowing a sigh, I answered Choi Jeho, whose eyes were blazing.

"I didn’t plan this."

"Then it’s the company."

With that, he made a beeline for the practice room door.

Anyone could see he was furious, so I hurried to stop him.

"Where are you going?"

"The office."

"What for. Don’t tell me you’re going to confront them?"

"I am. Why?"

His expression was downright menacing. Eyes rolling—he looked ready to storm in and wreck the place.

I got it. Of course he was mad. Especially when it’s family.

I tried to look as unruffled as possible as I held him back.

"Cool your head a little first."

Couching it as gently as I could so he wouldn’t take it badly.

But he left the practice room without a word.

"We’re screwed. Nothing good comes from him going out like that."

Life in an organization is full of contradictions.

Speak politely and people sometimes won’t listen; show emotion when something serious goes wrong and they tell you, “Is this a playground or a company?”

In a place like that, no matter how absurd and outraged he felt, all he’d hear would be: don’t be emotional.

Worse, he was once the subject of a video titled “Popular Male Idol Who Uses His Members as Emotional Trash Cans.”

I chased him out the door to stop him from saying one wrong word and jumping into a fire.

"Are you that curt at the office too?"

A few months after I joined Hanpyeong Industries, my sister asked me that once.

"I try not to look socially awkward. Why?"

"So you do care about social skills..."

"If I don’t want to get fired, I don’t have a choice."

My first year in the workforce came with every kind of trial and error. It forced me to hone the skill of matching my tone like a chameleon.

Not just that. Listening posture matters to office workers too.

The kinds of concerns HR hears at a company usually go like this:

"Assistant Manager, I really want to quit—what do I do?"

"Assistant Manager, how do I apply for a department transfer?"

"Is it true our team won’t get any new hires this time? Please say no... Just kill me instead..."

That kind of thing requires listening.

You have to hear why this person wants to quit, why they want a transfer.

The last one, all I could do was offer condolences.

But with Choi Jeho right now, I had no idea what posture to take.

I knew in my head I should be on his side. For most people, family is a huge deal.

I knew that, and yet...

"Pretending to empathize when I don’t actually empathize really bothers me."

I could empathize all day with people condemning Hanpyeong Industries’ nasty behavior. “You’ve all been through a lot” rolled off my tongue like a vending machine dispensing coins.

But this was different. Even while I thought he had every right to be mad, my brain kept trying to brake: "It’s still work."

If I went in like this, I’d end up only pretending to listen while we “talked.”

And it’s not like I can say something sociopathic like, compared to doing idol work with my sister’s life on the line, this is nothing.

My head was a mess the whole run after him.

The chase ended when I grabbed his elbow before he finished climbing the stairs to the third floor where the offices were.

"Hey."

He looked back at me, on edge.

Standing a step above me at a slant, he glared down as I spoke, still holding his arm.

"Sorry for grabbing you without asking. But even if you go to the office, can you talk to me first?"

"You said you didn’t pitch this. So why talk to you?"

"If I’d checked in the middle, I might have filtered it. In that sense, it’s on me too."

I meant it. I’d felt the weight of my mistake all the way up the stairs.

My sincerity be damned, he gave a disbelieving laugh.

"And why are you doing that?"

He scoffed.

"Do I look that empty-headed to you? I know where to go to get mad, okay? I’m not an idiot."

"..."

"Pitching ideas, setting album concepts, writing articles, tracking sales trends... Is that even your job? Why are you doing all that and trying to take the blame for other people’s mistakes on top of it?"

"Because..."

At Hanpyeong Industries, that’s just how it was.

There I did it because I was paid a salary. Here...

"The company gave me a chance even though I’m lacking. So I want to do more."

"..."

"If it looks like I’m overstepping... sorry for that."

"That’s not what I mean."

He scrubbed his hair furiously.

"Ugh, whatever. Either way, I’m not letting this slide."

"You’ve got guts. You just debuted—you’re not scared of the company?"

"I believe the person who did wrong should take responsibility. And what did I do wrong?"

Nothing. Like you said, the wrong is on the company.

Still...

Forget it.

He wasn’t wrong. What’s the point of picking a fight?

My goal from the start was to cool him down at least a little. I’d met that goal; whatever he said now didn’t matter.

We sat side by side on the emergency stairwell. Awkward silence filled the space.

"Aren’t you going to ask why I made such a fuss?"

He didn’t let the quiet win. Right, your personality is something else.

Feeling a bit sheepish, I scratched my face and answered,

"Because there’s stuff you don’t want to talk about. Why make you say it?"

"Then why did you follow me?"

"I was worried you’d say the wrong thing in the heat of the moment and miss what you needed to say."

"What?"

He frowned.

This punk—creases in your brow don’t suit you. I’ve told you a hundred times not to scowl.

I told him to smooth his brow, stood, checked that no one was in the emergency exit, then sat again.

"If you’d gone straight to the office, how do you think you would’ve acted?"

"Huh?"

"In that state, how would you have treated the staff?"

He hesitated.

I didn’t need to see it. A hundred kinds of words would’ve come out.

"Most people judge attitude more than content. Even if you’re right, if they think you’re being rude, they’ll go defensive first."

"..."

He rested his chin in silence.

Even if it feels like a lecture, bear with it. If you handle this right, you might eat a little less hate during your active years.

Watching him sink deep into thought, I wondered how to tame this hellion a bit.

"Would cooling his head with responsibility help?"

He wasn’t the type to feel weighed down by just any task.

So I went all in.

"Go and say it as well as you can. ‘Iwol also said that topic feels burdensome—if you can just cut that part, the two of us will work our butts off on the rest!’"

"What are you talking about?"

"I’m saying I don’t want to talk about family either."

He stared at me, baffled.

"What. Do I look like I grew up in some cushy household?"

I made it a joke on ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) purpose. He answered,

"No, that’s not it."

This punk...

"I figured if you were ordered to do something you hated, you’d still do it."

"I would. But I’ve got nothing to say about family, so I’d have to wring it out."

I mean, you can’t very well tell fans, "My parents gave me the chance to learn that eating ramen seven months past its expiration date is fine."

"So cool your head a bit and go talk. If you storm in and just get scolded, I’ll have to start squeezing stories on the spot."

"Ugh, damn."

He raked his hair again and stood. But unlike before, the vicious edge had clearly softened.

I sent him off and was about to head back down to the practice room when he called me.

"Hey."

"What?"

I turned. He looked down at me from a few steps up, leaning an arm on the handrail.

"If it’s awkward... can we leave your part out?"

I couldn’t help bursting into laughter.

People can be this earnest, huh. He really is twenty-one.

Looking up at his forehead as if it had “I’m trying” written on it, I answered,

"I don’t care. Do what you think is best."

The family issue was resolved smoothly after that.

I didn’t grill him for the blow-by-blow, but since he came back calm, it was easy to guess the UA adults handled it maturely.

Thanks to that, the dorm atmosphere was as peaceful as could be.

Having dragged the whole team out for a spring outing not long ago, Lee Cheonghyeon was humming as he worked on the track—a strange behavior that made me wonder how the melody didn’t get scrambled.

The finished song was really upbeat and great.

Fresh imagery perfect for the season from spring to summer, and a crisp brightness that carried through again.

Everything was exactly what I wanted. Except for one thing.

"Cheonghyeon."

"Yeah?"

"Why is the key so high...?"