Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols Chapter 455 - Frustration (3)

I didn’t know why I wanted to ask Yur something like that. I was just… confused. Or was I? Maybe I was just devoid of any thought.

 

I didn’t know. I didn’t know why I still hadn’t jumped, or why I was sitting here.

 

Yur was silent. As the steam cleared, the pale yellow tea was slowly revealed.

 

“That’s a difficult question. Worries are relative, after all. My problems might seem like nothing to you, Mr. Iwol.”

 

The more famous a person becomes, the more they are gossiped about. Yur would be dealing with that even more than I was, certainly not less.

 

“If I had to pick the most fitting example, I’d say my issues with the agency.”

 

An unexpected topic came up.

 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

“…….”

 

“It’s the same for me. Compared to mid-sized or smaller companies, the environment is definitely better. But even after weighing the advantages, there are some disadvantages I just couldn’t overlook.”

 

The harsh working conditions and unfair treatment in the idol industry had long been a source of conflict. Even as things gradually improved over time, new forms of exploitation kept appearing in blind spots.

 

“There were many toxic clauses in our initial contract.” 

 

Yur said, taking a sip of his tea. 

 

“So I agonized over it a lot… but we wanted to keep using our team name, and it seemed unlikely that all the members could renew their contracts anywhere other than MYTH, so we decided to stay. We chose the money and stability.”

 

Yur was being honest.

 

“For the most part, everything got better. Except for a few things. For example, if an artist is deemed to have damaged the company’s reputation. You could see it as a new form of restriction.”

 

“…….”

 

“If we mention to the outside world that the company ‘lobbied shows to manipulate rankings and demanded favorable editing’ or ‘intentionally copied a certain group,’ and it damages the image, they say they’ll hold us responsible with a massive penalty. Let alone activities not specified in the contract…”

 

Hearing that, I remembered Polo coming to meet me on the pretext of grabbing a meal. I recalled his face as he intentionally leaked the story that MYTH was purposefully copying Spark.

 

I could guess what Yur had left unsaid at the end. There was no way an agency determined to slap them with fines wouldn’t place restrictions on their activities.

 

“For Chaejun, keeping his conscience is more important than protecting his own safety. He’s honest. So being told to ignore unfair things, or to take care of juniors he doesn’t even like—that’s humiliating for him.”

 

Yur let out a small laugh.

 

Thinking back to how Polo had rushed without hesitation onto that bridge in the middle of the night, risking getting involved in something serious, his actions fit Yur’s words perfectly.

 

“We’ve decided to set up our own agency.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

Despite dropping such a shocking statement, Yur remained calm. Hellas was the face of MYTH. No matter how much their promotional frequency had dropped compared to their prime time, the fact that a group that had been top-tier for a long time remained active and consistently produced results proved Hellas’s status.

 

There was no team that represented MYTH’s identity better than Hellas. Parthe, the group meant to succeed them, hadn’t achieved the same level of fame or success as their seniors. 

 

For the face of the agency and representative figures of a generation to leave an organization equipped with personnel solely dedicated to supporting them? It would be one thing if they went their separate ways and only gathered occasionally for group activities, but a case like this was rare.

 

“Our contract renewals weren’t for a long period. We have enough time to prepare without having to wait too long.”

 

“Why are you telling me something like this…?”

 

“I’m only telling you specially. If it leaks, you’re the culprit.”

 

“Pardon…?”

 

“I’m joking. People in the industry more or less know. It’s a small industry where everyone is connected. An industry that coordinates paparazzi timing isn’t going to miss something like this. Though it would be trouble if you talked about it openly somewhere.”

 

Yur said as he emptied his teacup.

 

“If there seems to be no way to run away, what else can you do but carve out a new path? Since there’s strength in numbers, it’ll be easier than doing it alone.”

 

A new path, with the members.

 

What if, someday, a situation comes where I have to choose between Spark and something else? Do I have to live my life making endless choices?

 

My thoughts wouldn’t settle. Looking at me intently, Yur said. 

 

“I don’t know what kind of situation you’re in, but I hope you don’t take my actions as the ideal answer.”

 

Noticing I didn’t fully understand, he added.

 

“I have enough money to set up a small company. I have the network built up over the years, the capacity to hire a labor attorney for consultation, and the experience to dive directly into the industry’s ecosystem. Above all, all the members are actively moving toward the same goal. That’s why I can make ‘any choice’ I want.”

 

“…….”

 

“On the other hand, if your circumstances limit your options, that’s not something you should blame on your own ability. Imagine how painful it is for someone forced to act within those limits.”

 

Jeong Seongbin had said something similar. He said it was cruel to call the only remaining option a ‘choice’ when backed into a corner.

 

“There’s one more thing I want to say.”

 

Yur filled his empty cup with tea again. Warmth spread to my hand holding the cup.

 

“If what you want to run away from is a person or a situation, ask the people around you for help. There are many cases where things that seemed hopeless to solve alone are solved quickly when multiple people join in.”

 

“…….”

 

“But if you want to turn your eyes away from ‘your own choices’…”

 

Yur’s eyes turned toward me.

 

“Give yourself a rest. Don’t drive yourself too hard. There’s no situation where only one person is at fault. So don’t carry everything by yourself.”

 

Even so, would it stop being my fault that I eliminated the possibility of preventing my sister’s accident with my own hands? Was there really not a single way to make a wiser choice? Would I not regret that moment for the rest of my life?

 

I was truly in so much agony and wanted to turn back time, but… Even if I went back, and even if I made a different choice, would I be at peace?

 

‘I hope you don’t add to your own wounds, hyung.’ 

 

Jeong Seongbin’s words continued to float in my head.

 

Yur gave up his room for me and pushed me toward the bed. 

 

“Get some good sleep. We can have a leisurely meal later.” 

 

And then he closed the door and left.

 

I wondered why he wouldn’t just let me go, before my thoughts reached what I must have looked like when I set foot in this house. 

 

‘I must have looked like a madman.’

 

I heard Polo had already gone home while I was showering. He must’ve explained everything by then. However, inviting a stranger into your home so readily was no easy task, so Yur was definitely showing me great grace.

 

I carefully lay down on the edge of the bed. Out of politeness, I wasn’t going to pull up the blanket, but Yur’s words telling me to make sure to cover myself up rang in my ears, so I eventually pulled it up. 

 

I felt melancholic as I lay down. My whole body felt heavy as if burdened by a massive weight. My mind was blank, devoid of any thought.

 

In my dream, I saw a familiar intersection. In the memory data, I had been standing in front of the crosswalk where the accident occurred, but in the dream, I was standing on the opposite side. People were gathered on the other side. Cars raced fiercely across the road.

 

I just waited for the light to turn. I wanted to run across immediately—to where my sister would be. But until I woke up, the green light never turned on.

 

***

 

Having barged into someone’s house in the middle of the night, I slept for a long time. It felt like Yur opened the door briefly in the middle of it. He just adjusted the blanket and left, and I fell back asleep before I could even find the energy to wake up.

 

It wasn’t until the sunlight filled the entire room and became too bright for my eyes that I finally woke up. I hurried out to the living room and saw that Manager Chanyoung was already there.

 

“Manager, I…”

 

Since joining UA, I could confidently say I had never caused a disaster of this scale. I didn’t just go out without notice—I stayed out overnight, left my phone behind, and didn’t contact anyone even once. On top of that, the place I ran to after bolting from the dorm was the house of a massive industry senior from another agency.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

I had nothing to say in my defense, so I apologized first. I could feel my hands trembling.

 

“No, you don’t need to apologize.”

 

But the manager didn’t scold me. Instead, with a flushed face, he pulled me into a tight hug.

 

“You’re safe and sound. That’s all that matters.”

 

Hearing the manager’s words, I realized that what had happened at dawn must have already been reported.

 

Yur even made me a meal, just as promised. I bowed at a right angle to Yur, to whom I was indebted, and promised to repay him formally next time. On the way back, I stopped by the hospital and received a consultation.

 

“Iwol.”

 

“Yes.”

 

The manager called me while we were stopped at a traffic light.

 

“Let’s take a break from activities for a while.”

 

“…….”

 

“I don’t mean just you. All of you.”

 

A breathtaking silence filled the car. Agreeing felt like a nuisance to the group, but refusing meant that too many people would end up worrying because of me.

 

“It’s right for Spark to take a break. You’ve never had a proper long vacation anyway. I’m sorry this is being told to you so suddenly, but we’ve already finished internal discussions.”

 

It was only 11 a.m. Thinking that the schedule for at least a full quarter had come to a dead stop within two hours left me speechless. 

 

UA had always respected Spark’s opinions regarding their promotional schedules. Their unusually firm stance this time was likely to stop me, the one who had always pushed through whatever I wanted to do.

 

“It’s such an important time…”

 

My head dipped involuntarily. The manager gently patted my hand as I trailed off.

 

“Nothing is more important than being healthy.”

 

“…….”

 

“The other members too. They’ve all been through something shocking. It’s not because of you, so I hope you don’t feel guilty.”

 

Come to think of it, were they okay? I had been so caught up in my own situation that I had forgotten something just as important.

 

When a colleague got injured, the leader had no choice but to worry as the representative of the group. Park Joowoo hated to see anyone get hurt. Lee Cheonghyeon was especially attached to the members, and Kang Kiyeon was someone we had to be mindful of since he could easily get startled on stage.

 

A lighting fixture had fallen right next to those guys. It was the kind of accident that would be hard not to be shaken by. Choi Jeho was… I vaguely remembered him saying he wasn’t hurt anywhere. I also recalled how I had just taken his word for it and hadn’t checked on him myself.

 

“If you’re really worried, think of this as time to reorganize. You’ve heard of a refresh vacation, right? Let’s consider it a period of preparation to show an even better side of yourselves.”

 

The manager deliberately used workplace terms to comfort me. It seemed he thought this would be the only way to persuade me.

 

And in truth, that was exactly how I had operated until now. In everything I did, I relied on the habits and manuals from my days as a corporate employee. Because of this, the means others used to persuade me ended up being the language of the Hanpyeong Industry, the very thing I wanted so desperately to escape from. Just like the System had done. 

 

The end result for a human devoid of self was becoming unable to do anything on their own. Perhaps I still had many problems left unfixed. Just as I couldn’t feel pain or recognize my own depression, I simply hadn’t noticed them yet.