“Did your meeting go well? The new Team Leader Kang might always look tired because he’s overworked, but he’s very kind. He’s good at his job, too.”
“......”
“I think you’ll get along well with him, Ms. Lee.”
The overly sweet, fake smile of that lunatic made her skin crawl. As the man’s eyes scanned her from head to toe, Lee Jihyun felt as if she had just encountered a ghost. Her mouth was dry, and she moistened her cracked lips with her tongue before managing to squeeze out a voice.
“...I just heard about the promotion, too.”
“Oh? Me too.”
Liar.
“I, um... saw the Daepaseong CEO earlier...”
“He looked healthy.”
“...And I heard Manager Jang is... coming in as the new CEO.”
“He seems like a nice person, doesn’t he?”
See? He already knows everything.
She wanted so badly to ask what was going on, but courage wouldn’t come.
No—maybe it was better not to know for the rest of her life.
If you stare into the abyss too long, the abyss will also stare back at you.
‘...Should I just pretend not to know?’
Lee Jihyun felt like a protagonist in a horror game right before picking a dialogue option.
Option 1: Stop asking questions and quietly accept the situation.
Option 2: Point out what’s fishy and get completely wrecked.
“...Mr. Seo Hoyun.”
If she were truly wise, she would have chosen Option 1.
“...It feels like this whole situation assumes The Dawn’s re-contract as a premise.”
But Lee Jihyun was always the kind of person who picked Option 2.
“—Ah, ah, you know it’s just maintaining the current status, right?!”
Here we go, time to get wrecked!!
“No matter how independent Daepaseong becomes as a label, it’s still under WH Entertainment. That doesn’t change. Honestly, I thought you’d start completely fresh under a new agency, Mr. Seo.”
He definitely had the ability to do that.
So why stay with Daepaseong?
“Why... did you do that?”
She dumped all her unease out in one breath, already regretting it as she slowly lifted her head.
But Seo Hoyun’s smile only deepened.
“Ms. Lee Jihyun.”
“...Yes.”
“What do you think would’ve happened if The Dawn had left?”
Stay calm...
Feeling threatened, Lee Jihyun frantically worked her brain and stammered out an answer.
“If they left as they were... WH Entertainment would’ve clung on, broadcasting stations {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} would’ve power-tripped, they’d have trouble getting trademark rights, and writing songs for concerts would be difficult?”
“And now?”
...Trademark rights, power abuse, business issues.
They had avoided them all.
“You still think this is just maintaining the status quo?”
...At first glance, it looked like nothing had changed, but in truth, it was much better than when Daepaseong had been a fully independent agency. They were using WH’s resources and had recruited elites from neighboring teams.
‘Unless CEO Jang has serious power, that would’ve been impossible.’
Of course, there must have been adult politics, deals, and endless negotiations behind it.
But the conclusion was clear.
As long as CEO Jang was there—
‘WH can’t touch Daepaseong.’
Still, that was only her speculation. Before she could dig deeper into the abyss, Lee Jihyun quickly shifted the topic.
“...Anyway! Keeping the trademark was the best choice. Even if, say, you’d started a new agency with CEO Jang, getting the trademark transferred would’ve been nearly impossible. Even if you convinced the previous CEO, WH would never have allowed it.”
The Dawn’s trademark belonged to Daepaseong, but WH held the actual control.
The possibility of transferring that trademark?
It had never existed.
“...Honestly, with how famous The Dawn is, you could’ve changed the group name, but still, keeping it was a good—”
Then Lee Jihyun suddenly froze mid-sentence.
“...—idea.”
Wait a second.
Could it be... WH let CEO Jang stay in Daepaseong just so he could secretly hand the trademark over to the members later?
“......”
...No way.
The ridiculous thought made her fall silent. Seo Hoyun tilted his head.
“Why did you stop talking?”
“......”
She didn’t know how long their new contract would last, but it was probably short-term.
If they secured the trademark within that time—
They could go independent later.
“...Um.”
“Yes?”
“Mr. Seo, don’t tell me you—”
The instant that thought hit her, Lee Jihyun snapped her head up.
Seo Hoyun, his long lashes lowered, was looking at her with a satisfied smile.
“Hm...”
Once again—an absurdly handsome man.
“Noeul cherishes that name, you know.”
Even though he was dazzling on the surface, her instincts screamed that she was in danger.
“That’s... great...! Hahaha!”
She took a quick step back.
“Re-really great! I should go dig up that old proposal from the trash now!”
“That kind of passion is inspiring.”
“...!”
“I want to keep working with you.”
He even dropped the “clueless celebrity” act now!
“Ms. Lee Jihyun.”
“...Y-yes, sir...”
Leaning slightly forward as if to share something important, Seo Hoyun whispered:
“Shall we try it? Like a pineapple—pop pop pop.”
“...Like a mango—mang mang mang.”
“Good girl.”
Good girl, my ass...
.
.
.
After politely seeing the petrified Lee Jihyun off, I checked my phone.
【Re-contract Green Light... The Dawn to Continue with WH?】
【‘Daepaseong’ Begins Anew with Appointed Co-CEOs】
【Independent Label Declares Fresh Ambitions...】
Apparently, CEO Jang had already moved. Articles about The Dawn’s re-contract were flooding the media.
“Impressive, CEO Jang.”
I chuckled softly, leaning against the railing on the second-floor balcony overlooking the lobby.
“Mr. Seo Hoyun, did you know?”
Exactly a week ago, in this very spot—
CEO Jang had stood overlooking the same lobby as he spoke to me.
“I’ve met many kinds of people, you know. Specifically, those who crush others with greed.”
Since last winter, a storm of bloodshed had swept through WH Entertainment. Amid that political chaos, we spotted a gap and approached CEO Jang.
With his complicated family background, he had been cautious at first, but in the end, he took my hand.
“So when you first suggested I become the CEO, I wasn’t thrilled. Sure, your plan tidied up this messy situation neatly... but the real question was whether I could trust you.”
“And?”
“So I discreetly asked around through my contacts in broadcasting... to learn what kind of person you really are.”
He had grinned then, continuing—
“People cursed you like crazy.”
“......”
Was all that buildup just to insult me?
Ever since I started Eternal Idol Tycoon and the settings went off track, some people from my PD days must’ve vaguely recognized me. The hate was inevitable.
I glared, but Jang only burst into laughter.
“But funny thing—everyone who bad-mouthed you were the people I already couldn’t stand.”
Then he’d leaned in with a teasing whisper.
“The field staff all adore you, Mr. Seo.”
“...Excuse me?”
“Want me to tell you who?”
Then, one by one, he’d listed names—ordinary ones, not celebrities, people the general public wouldn’t know.
“How on earth did you win them over?”
Those were the names of the people I’d worked with as a PD.
When I didn’t answer, Jang glanced at me and smiled.
“They begged me to look after you. It was kind of touching, honestly. So I decided to take a gamble and trust you.”
He’d pointed toward the massive LED screen in the middle of the lobby with one finger.
“That guy over there is one of them, too.”
And now, I was looking up at that same enormous screen.
—Fweeeeet.
A playful whistle, golden-brown hair swaying, a confident smile.
The video ended with the man kissing the trophy in his hand before the screen went dark.
“...Seriously.”
I tore my gaze away from the lobby and headed toward the parking lot.
Beep—
As the glass doors opened, a sleek red sports car came into view right at the entrance. It was a rare model, but people weren’t staring at the car—they were staring at the man leaning against it.
Black jacket, faded jeans, white sneakers. His tousled golden-brown hair glinted in the sunlight.
Our top star, fresh off his flashy solo comeback, Billboard domination, and LA concert—straight from the airport.
He looked exactly like on the billboard, but somehow, in person, he shone even brighter. Our eyes met.
“Clumsy idiot.”
Lowering his sunglasses, he tilted his chin with that familiar arrogance.
“Why are you so late?”
Ladies and gentlemen, the ever-radiant Joo Woosung.
“Is it done?”
“Yes.”
“The result?”
“You didn’t check online?”
“I was sleeping.”
“...Weren’t you waiting because you wanted to hear it quickly?”
When I gave him a dumbfounded look, Joo Woosung shoved his hands into his pockets and said,
“Would I want to hear it from someone else’s mouth?”
“......”
“I want to hear it directly—from you.”
So very Joo Woosung-like that I was momentarily speechless.
He lowered his sunglasses again, peering at my face for a moment before murmuring,
“Hmm.”
Well.
“You did good, punk.”
Without waiting for my reply, Joo Woosung banged his own drum, got in the driver’s seat, and started the car. I didn’t particularly want to, but I slid into the passenger seat anyway.
Throwing his sunglasses back on, he said, “Let’s go,” and started the engine.
“If it’s over, let’s eat. I’m exhausted from jet lag, but waiting for you was super—hard.”
“What do you want to eat?”
“You really need to ask?”
Of course not. I could already see it coming—he’d drag me home and we’d end up eating his beloved kim-chi-bok-keum-bap.
Bored, I turned to the window.
He turned on the radio, and as I thought about upcoming schedules, Seoul’s skyline flashed by—billboards for Black Call and The Dawn among them.
CEO Jang’s words still echoed in my head, and I rubbed my forehead absently.
‘Well... I do owe him.’
If not for the guy who introduced us, none of this could’ve started.
When I looked sideways, the driver’s eyes flicked toward me again, gauging my mood.
“...By the way, Mr. Joo Woosung.”
I stared at him for a moment before carefully saying,
“Let’s adjust our comeback schedule. Overlapping release periods aren’t good.”
“......”
I watched the corners of his mouth sink in real time and couldn’t resist poking further.
“When are you enlisting? Next year?”
“......”
“This year, maybe?”
“—Do I look like I would?!”
So much for the cool top-star image. Tossing his sunglasses aside, Joo Woosung immediately started yelling.
“I haven’t seen you in ages and that’s what you ask? You really trying to piss me off?”
“Yes, yes.”
Ah, our precious golden boy is back.
“Hey, speaking of which, I invited you to come to the U.S. with me last time. I went when you asked, didn’t I? Why didn’t you come this time?”
“Oh, I wanted to, but I was busy.”
“And what, Joo Woosung isn’t busy?”
And here comes verse two.
“At least I fed your kitty while you were gone.”
“Nyang-nyang-ie~?”
The noise was unbearable. I covered my ears and opened the car’s sunroof, letting the wind blow all his chatter away.
“——What was that, Mr. Joo Woosung? Oh, you said you’re glad we’re still in the same company?”
“~~!!”
He kept babbling beside me, but the wind scattered every word. My voice probably didn’t reach him either.
Feeling oddly lighter, I smiled.
“Hey, Woosung.”
Goodbye, trashy WH.
Welcome back, gloriously messy Daepaseong.
“Thanks. Couldn’t have done it without you.”
“—What?!”
Poor world star—can’t even hear properly.
Whatever. Today’s Seoul had clear skies, no fine dust, and later I’d go home, see the kitty, and eat kimchi fried rice.
“Hey, you just bad-mouthed me, didn’t you?!”
Sounds like a happy ending to me.
