"So you and Jeong Seongbin had a knock-down fight yesterday?"
Choi Jeho asked as he chugged cold milk. I told him to warm that milk up, but of course he never listens.
"I explained the situation in a moderate way. Seongbin just got a little heated."
"You’ve always had a way of talking that pisses people off."
"Jeho, are you introducing yourself right now?"
I said it with a breezy smile, but he only snorted.
Unbelievable. Do you know how much effort I’ve spent helping you keep that mouth of yours under control, and this is how you make a fool of me.
"From what I hear, Park Juu didn’t take your side either."
At that, the sparks jumped to Park Juu, who’d been quietly eating bread in the corner.
Well. If Park Juu hadn’t blown the whistle to begin with, Choi Jeho wouldn’t even have noticed that Jeong Seongbin was mad.
Still, I sent Park Juu a look packed with a sliver of hope—do you really think that?
He ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ looked away.
You’re betraying me too?
How many pancakes did I feed you at Chuseok. The world is stuffed with traitors.
"Wait, am I really the one at fault here?"
I poured out my grievance in all sincerity.
The reply was as heartless as it gets.
"Of course you are."
"Give me a break."
Where in any of this is it wrong to be trying to practice a bit more.
The one who gave me the most grief for dancing badly sure has a lot to say.
"Hyung, how’s your nose...?"
Even so, Park Juu carefully checked on my nose. A master at dealing the illness and administering the cure.
"Perfectly fine. Couldn’t be better."
"Yeah, right."
"Choi Jeho, you want to keep picking a fight?"
When I snapped, he only shrugged.
I left him to rot and turned my focus to Park Juu.
"Juu, you’re my bestie—what do you think? Does Seongbin seem really mad?"
"How should I put it..."
"Put it in a percentage."
"About... ninety-seven percent."
So he’s hitting critical mass. That’s bad.
Watching me press my forehead, Choi Jeho asked:
"You scared of Jeong Seongbin?"
"A subordinate’s happiness index rises and falls with the boss’s mood. If the person in charge is out of sorts because of me, how could I not care?"
"Leave him. Once he’s done sorting his thoughts alone, he’ll calm down and come back."
"Sorry, is that personal experience talking?"
"Yeah."
What a flex, you jerk.
I’ve fallen to the level of being classed with Choi Jeho. I felt a little sorry toward Jeong Seongbin.
I swallowed a sigh and said:
"No way around it. I should apologize to Seongbin."
"Apologize? Isn’t that just pouring oil on the fire?"
"No. I’ll explain the recurrence-prevention measures at the same time."
"So you are going to pour oil on it."
I wanted to slap a speech ban on his constant wet-blanket commentary, but I held back. Our country recognizes freedom of speech.
"Then what do you suggest. Do you want to stare at Seongbin’s heavy face all practice long today?"
"I don’t care. It’s not because of me."
He cocked one eyebrow at me while he said it.
So if he’s not the one getting chewed out, he doesn’t care. Looking at that placid mug, a deep anger welled up from my solar plexus.
"...I don’t want to see it either, but even so, those recurrence-prevention measures you mentioned... I don’t think that’ll actually cool him down."
Carefully, Park Juu offered. It’s pathetic. There isn’t a single person on my side.
When I looked self-mocking, he glanced at me, gauging, and added:
"But if that’s what you really want to do, then... go ahead!"
Fine, kid...
As I expected, Jeong Seongbin carried his fury intact all the way back from school.
Kang Giyeon, who walked home with him, was shaking his head behind his back.
So the moment he arrived, I dropped to my knees and offered a heartfelt apology.
I basically admitted it was my fault for failing to manage my health, and that I was sorry for frightening my teammates, and that I would make sure nothing like this ever happened again.
"...That’s not something you can guarantee."
"I’ll ask the ancestor spirits to assign me a guardian ghost just for health-check measurements."
I also extend apologies to the ancestor spirits I’ve been using non-stop. Do not forgive your impious descendant.
But I did mean it, more or less, about preventing a recurrence. Even without a health-check ghost, I’ve got a fatigue index that measures in percentages.
Maybe he sensed I had something up my sleeve—his gaze wavered for a second.
I used that opening to shake his worry and sympathy for an injured member, and the guilt that must have ballooned overnight for having raised his voice at an elder.
Meaning, I stayed on my knees and begged.
His face went white and he accepted my apology. Moved by my sincerity, clearly.
The highlight was his air-filled voice—eighty percent air—sighing, "Hyung, you really..."
Anyway, thanks to his generous magnanimity in accepting my apology, our afternoon practice went off very smoothly.
Up until the phone call from Yoo Hansu.
The manager had brought our phones; I saw a missed call and called back, and the bastard started screaming the instant he picked up.
— XX XX, you ignoring my calls?
That base vulgarity. That graceless phone etiquette.
And fury that transmits across physical space. He really reminds me of someone.
"I’m sorry, PD."
I answered the call politely. The Spark brats, scattered around, all shot to their feet.
I gestured for them to sit, then for quiet.
Across the way, Lee Cheonghyeon mouthed:
"Put it on speaker!"
Yeah, no.
Even with all the wear on my conscience, I at least know better than to let the kids hear a bad adult’s conversation like this.
Meanwhile, Yoo Hansu’s string of curses kept going.
"I didn’t avoid your call on purpose. Our rule is that we all turn in our phones."
— So XX what am I supposed to do about it? I’m the one who’s supposed to work around your situation? Huh?
"Absolutely not. I’m sorry, PD."
— Sorry? You XX, you call this ‘sorry’ after you screw me like this?
At this point he couldn’t be reasoned with.
At least in my previous life I’d never met a fossilized old man at this level before I ran into Manager Nam. This life is moving too fast.
Just as I was about to squeeze in a drop of artificial tears for my pitiable self, my eyes met Jeong Seongbin’s.
His look felt like: you didn’t forget that promise we made, did you?
"Got it. I got it."
I planted a hand on my knee and stood up quietly.
Then, to Yoo Hansu, I only offered empty fillers and apologies, and to the boys, I silently formed the words with my mouth:
"I’ll go record this."
They understood and let me go without objection.
So I stood by the emergency exit with the recorder button on, and listened for a long time to whatever he felt like spewing.
I waited until he yelled to ask if I was even listening properly, then answered in the smallest, most cowed voice that I was very sorry and listening closely—I didn’t forget that part.
I leaned my back against the emergency-exit wall, sensing this was going to take a while.
And such feelings are never wrong.
He got to the point only twenty minutes later.
— You XX, you messed with An Yuri too, didn’t you.
An Yuri is Newri’s real name. I figured he’d get wound up over that.
"PD, I..."
— What? You going to make excuses? XXX, you’ve already made a mess and now you’ve got something to say? Huh?
"..."
— Who do you think you are, crossing the line, crossing it. You get a few compliments at the company and think you’re somebody? Never heard the phrase ‘frog in a well’?
It’s unfair. They very cautiously asked my opinion first, to begin with. And if you weren’t going to listen, why call me at all?
Truly a man who never grows. Maybe spend this time working harder on saving your own skin.
— You’re not afraid of anything, are you. But guess what? Your rep in the industry is already XX not good. One slip and you’re straight to the bottom.
"I’m sorry, PD."
Of course, I’m not sorry at all.
A whistle-blowing idol is a headache, sure, but isn’t a would-be embezzler’s reputation worse? I do hope he realizes just how remarkable he is.
— You picked the wrong guy to mess with. You think I don’t have any active pros I’m close to? Get your act together. Jang Junhu’s been XX badmouthing you too.
Jang Junhu.
I thought he only shot Jang Junhu’s music video, but I guess the two really clicked—enough to bond over bad-mouthing me off the clock.
Or maybe it’s just him bluffing at me.
Either way, it doesn’t matter. Whether it’s Yoo Hansu or Jang Junhu, neither is a real threat.
"Jang Junhu... senior?"
— Yeah. You’re famous for having no manners, you know? He’s really gunning for you.
Still, it’d be ideal if they really were close. If need be I can bundle them together and ship them off. "PD and senior singer join hands to bully a single group"—what a fantastic headline.
Toying with a fingernail with one hand, I spoke in a thoroughly flustered voice:
"That can’t be. All I’ve done is say hello a few times."
— I hear you threatened Jang Junhu. Mutiny’s a serious offense, punk. You aware of that?
Even if mutiny’s a serious offense, does that mean only mutineers do power trips? That logic only flies in the army.
After Jang Junhu’s name came up, he must’ve thought I was truly rattled, because he didn’t stop.
— From what I hear, you kicked up a fuss over nothing. What, you called him a senior who confiscates phones and inspects them because he tossed a water bottle?
"PD, that—"
— If that’s ‘abuse of power,’ then what, I must be committing outrageous abuse right now, huh? Did he throw the bottle at someone’s body, did he smash your phone? Ah, since I smashed your MP3, I guess you’ll go file that as abuse too?
I sure will. This will make excellent evidence—perfect to hand over. Amazing—finding ways to add crimes because embezzlement suspicions weren’t enough.
I clamped my mouth shut and fought to keep from laughing.
In a shitty world, things are rarely this easy—maybe I should’ve bought a lottery ticket today.
As usual, the curses kept coming.
I’d recorded enough; I was about to bow my head, mumble more apologies, and hang up, when I heard a clatter from the bottom of the stairs.
Getting caught here would be a problem.
If a company person got involved, I could shut him up right away—but when there’s a chance to send Jang Junhu and Yoo Hansu off as a bully duo, a mild punishment like that wouldn’t satisfy me.
So, loudly as I could, I greeted the silhouette I hadn’t even identified yet.
"Hello!"
Yoo Hansu’s swearing stopped. Footsteps came up the stairs, and a staffer from the label appeared.
"What were you doing here?"
"Ah, I was just taking a call..."
At the same time, the call ended and my phone screen lit up. I tilted it just enough for the screen to fall in their line of sight, and the name I’d so politely saved as "PD Yoo Hansu" showed up clear as day.
"Is PD Yoo still calling you?"
They were appalled. I waved both hands frantically.
"No, not at all, I really haven’t spoken to him in ages!"
Which is true.
More than that, I wanted to get back to the practice room and check whether the recording came out.
Even so, the staffer didn’t leave right away.
"He didn’t say something to you again, did he?"
"No, really...!"
Right then, my nose itched at the worst possible time.
Worried the burst inside my nostril from earlier might pop again, I ducked my head in a hurry.
I sniffed as if I had the sniffles and quickly touched under my nose, but thankfully it was dry.
I was about to lift my head in relief when the staffer cried out in shock.
"Are you crying?!"
Huh? Me?
Wait a second.
I guess... you could think that?
If you catch me on a call with the superior who’s been harassing me, and I suddenly bow my head and sniffle...
It’s a reasonable misunderstanding. I didn’t think I had such a delicate image, but the situation was bad.
I put on the brightest smile I could and actively explained that it wasn’t like that.
But because they chose to read my attitude as "a plucky trainee holding back tears and pretending to be bright," it wasn’t easy.
In the end, I put off checking the recording till tonight and escorted the staffer on their way.
