Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols Chapter 497 - Confidence

The location of my first private meeting with Jeong Seongbin was a playground. I still remembered that day. He had looked so much like someone on the verge of quitting that I couldn’t help but talk to him.

 

Our second meeting was in the UA lobby. That time, Jeong Seongbin was the one who requested a consultation. The topic was lighter than the one from our first conversation, though that was only by my standards. To Jeong Seongbin, it had been just as serious.

 

Since then, he continued to seek me out from time to time. However, the frequency gradually decreased. He still brought important agendas, but the depth of his thinking had changed, and his own judgment carried significant weight in his decision-making. It was the result of him growing rapidly as a leader and settling into his role.

 

If anything, there were more instances where I sought his opinion. Take the time I was struggling with the Gu Jahan incident; after agonizing over it alone, I received his help. I also found out later that he had been looking out for me indirectly, like during our trip or the matter of disposing of the three-patience note.

 

Because of this, I had subconsciously assumed that Jeong Seongbin no longer needed me. I wouldn’t deny that I presumed he would just take my words as passing advice or casual comments.

 

Apparently, I had misjudged things. Sitting across from me in the empty vocal practice room, Jeong Seongbin radiated an atmosphere that was anything but casual. Naturally, I turned serious as well.

 

“Alright. What is it our Seongbin wants to talk to me about?”

 

When I folded my arms, Jeong Seongbin let out a soft laugh.

 

“It’s nothing major. Um… actually, maybe it is a big problem.”

 

“If my self-composed song is terrible and you just couldn’t say it earlier, it’s not too late. I’ll give you a chance to correct your choice.”

 

“Ah, it’s not that.”

 

The guy was firm in the strangest places. Hmph, even if we both end up kicking our blankets in embarrassment later, don’t expect me to listen to your complaints then.

 

“The company said they’ll be arranging a meeting to explain things to the members soon, but I thought this was something the members should know first.”

 

That was a heavy opening. Nothing good ever came from the company being involved in the subject of a conversation. Jeong Seongbin quickly got to the point.

 

“It seems the company wants to give me a position.”

 

“At your age, even a non-registered directorship would be too early. Is it something like an ‘advisor’ role?”

 

In small and medium-sized enterprises, it was common to create roles like ‘advisor’ to plug in young personnel. I had never considered such titles particularly meaningful. Most of the time, unless the person had truly exceptional achievements or abilities, it was practically synonymous with being a figurehead. More often than not, the position existed solely to hand out business cards to executives’ children, nephews, juniors, or acquaintances.

 

‘Surely UA doesn’t think Seongbin would feel left out if they only gave Director positions to Mr. Yur and not to him?’

 

If my hypothesis was correct, then I wouldn’t recommend UA growing their company; I’d recommend they seriously look for a professional manager first. Spark’s contributions and corporate management ought to be treated as separate matters.

 

Regardless of my disbelief, I kept my mouth shut for now. There would be time to speak when it was my turn.

 

“I’ve never even considered something like this before, so I don’t know where to start evaluating it. And it makes me uncomfortable that this proposal came only to me because I’m the leader.”

 

“Did the company explain the details?”

 

Looking at his notes, Jeong Seongbin summarized the information he had received. As expected, it was close to an honorary post, but it did have a certain justification. The company wanted him to act as an intermediary and advisor whenever issues arose between Spark and UA, or if UA launched a new idol group under the newly established division in the future.

 

‘Since Spark has a strong voice in idol activities, they want him to mediate in exchange for solidifying his position.’

 

Since UA hadn’t taken in new trainees yet, the latter wasn’t an immediate concern. The core was the former.

 

Spark held no hostility toward the company. But that didn’t mean they were enthusiastic about every corporate proposal. Even I would immediately tie a headband around my forehead and throw myself onto the ground whenever UA looked ready to make a foolish decision. The disputes involving Yoo Hansoo and Hong Unseop hadn’t happened that long ago, either.

 

The relationship between Spark and UA could be summarized as ‘fulfilling mutual trust while everyone is aware of the rift that was once created’. UA seemed to want to organize these potential conflict factors that inevitably exist between a company and its employees—elements that could become uncontrollable catalysts if they ever exploded.

 

It was a valid thing to worry about. Especially for a good-natured guy like Jeong Seongbin, the mere fact that the choice was given only to him made him feel guilty. Sometimes, there are options that are worse than having no option at all.

 

“What are the advantages? Are they paying you? Since it’s not an executive position, I assume they’ll at least provide the four major insurances.”

 

“Yes. There’s a fixed salary and the four major insurances are included.”

 

“That’s not bad.”

 

While working freelance, I couldn’t even describe how desperately I’d wished for a company to pay half of my health insurance and pension contributions. Although the individual would have to bear the cost of any excess, having a regular salary and insurance was quite a big deal.

 

“I feel like an offer like this should have gone to you, hyung…”

 

Jeong Seongbin lowered his head deep.

 

“It’s right to discuss it with the leader. You hold the final decision-making power for our team.”

 

“Based on the actual roles performed, you’re the one who usually handles the tasks the company expects from this position, hyung.”

 

Surprisingly, Jeong Seongbin pointed out a crucial detail. While I looked at the representative nature of the role and thought Jeong Seongbin was the right person, Jeong Seongbin looked at the actual work required and thought it was more appropriate for me to receive the offer.

 

It was a level of thinking entirely different from the old Jeong Seongbin, who simply thought the eldest should be the leader. I was impressed by his development—he wasn’t just following social norms anymore but was capable of considering the surrounding circumstances.

 

“Let’s go back to the main point. The gist is that you’re worried about whether to accept the company’s proposal, right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I won’t ask what you want to do, Seongbin. Because I know you’ll want to choose the path that benefits the team.”

 

Jeong Seongbin’s eyes widened at my words. Then he laughed as though he couldn’t argue with that.

 

“I’ll be blunt. I think it’s better to refuse.”

 

“May I ask why?”

 

“First, it does absolutely nothing for the mental health of both you and Spark. Second, the profit is small compared to the energy you’ll have to invest.”

 

Spark already had enough communication channels with the company. Even without a bridge to the executives, there were plenty of ways to express our opinions. This meant Jeong Seongbin didn’t need to volunteer as a middleman.

 

In fact, being directly connected to management was more likely to act as a disadvantage. If he were in a state of belonging to the company rather than just being under a contract, Jeong Seongbin would have the obligation to ‘convey the company’s position to the members and persuade them to some extent’.

 

Mediating disagreements with management might be part of a leader’s job, but given Jeong Seongbin’s tendency to prioritize the team’s wishes, he would inevitably feel burdened by it.

 

Because he was a responsible guy, it was obvious he would struggle to find a way to satisfy both the company and the group, which worried me more. There was no such thing as a decision that pleased everyone.

 

No one in Spark would be jealous of Jeong Seongbin for getting a little extra salary. That part didn’t worry me at all. However, I was concerned that in a corner of the members’ hearts, there might be a wish for Jeong Seongbin to stand on Spark’s side. This was especially true since I knew all the members valued the team over solo activities and the team’s opinion over their own.

 

The team was running well on its own. There was no reason to introduce changes outside of their main job. For Jeong Seongbin, who wanted to stand alongside the members and speak with them, and for Spark, who valued unity, the proposal simply wasn’t very appealing.

 

I felt it would have been more effective to hold several town-hall-style meetings to share opinions during the reorganization of the idol division. Wouldn’t that be much more economical and efficient?

 

Maybe I’d spent so much time preaching about salaries and employee benefits that the company had somehow arrived at the conclusion that Jeong Seongbin deserved a title too… In the end, I once again reached the conclusion that UA needed professional managers. I should probably ask Mr. Yur to bring a management expert with him from MYTH if there was one dreaming of a career move.

 

And honestly, did it even make sense to give an honorary post for an active idol in the middle of their busiest years? If they had enough seniority to enter a Hall of Fame and had juniors to nurture, that was one thing; but even if they sat him down as an executive in a newly formed division, would that ‘executive’ even be treated properly?

 

I could already picture it. A chaotic organizational atmosphere, an advisor who had a title but no defined role, an ambiguous work vacuum where no employee knew what the advisor was supposed to do, and the hollow honorifics that felt like torture to someone with no interest in status…

 

I explained these points to Jeong Seongbin step-by-step. Jeong Seongbin listened to the long and boring explanation until the very end. Aside from being a bit taken aback at the end, he didn’t lose his serious attitude throughout.

 

“I don’t think the company made the offer lightly. The fact that they’d make such an unusual proposal is proof of how much they trust you. I want you to be proud of that.”

 

“You’re not just sugarcoating it, are you, hyung?”

 

“Ever since you all started seeing through my lies with frightening accuracy, I’ve given up both lying and exaggerating. I speak only the truth. UA won’t fail even if ‘Advisor Jeong’ isn’t there, but always keep in mind that Spark fails if the Boss wavers.”

 

After I nagged him until his ears probably rang, Jeong Seongbin signaled his desire to end the conversation. Since it was the Boss’s wish, I gladly shut my mouth.

 

“Everything up to this point has been the sensible part.”

 

“…?”

 

Jeong Seongbin, who was about to close his journal, paused at my words.

 

“Yur sunbaenim is going to become a director as an investor, right?”

 

“That’s right.”

 

“Then let’s take advantage of that situation as much as possible. If the company grows too large for us to push our opinions as strongly as before, then go through Ms. Jukyung or Yur sunbaenim. Don’t try to shoulder everything yourself.”

 

“How could I possibly ask the seniors to do that…”

 

“If it were a simple senior-junior relationship, I wouldn’t say this. In entertainment companies, when idols become directors, mentoring and looking after younger artists is usually part of the package. The company already hinted that they expect you to help future trainees someday. There’s no way UA didn’t say something similar to Yur sunbaenim.”

 

Besides, Spark’s success meant greater dividends and expansion opportunities for investors—killing two birds with one stone. If Spark asked for help, Yur wouldn’t lose anything by giving it. If you want the cash cows to keep bringing in money, you have to keep them healthy, don’t you?

 

“He’s like a textbook example for idol leaders, so you’ll have a lot to see and learn from him if you stay close. You know I’m saying this because I trust you’ll do well without being a nuisance to the seniors, right?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Even though I said this, I had already contacted Mr. Yur separately in advance. I told him, ‘I apologize for the imposition, but if our leader greets you at the company, please look upon him kindly’. In return, I promised that I, Kim Iwol, would stream Hellas’s music day and night.

 

As the members grew older and wiser, there might come a day when conflicts arose among them. I believed the future Jeong Seongbin would continue guiding his teammates as well as he always had, but if his heart was heavy or the environment was unstable, he might feel like he had nowhere to lean.

 

If he had even one more place to rely on when that day came, I’d feel a little more at ease, so I did some maneuvering behind the scenes. Fortunately, Mr. Yur accepted my cheeky request with a cute emoticon. He even generously said he would help without the streaming requirement. Thanks to that, I could breathe a sigh of relief.

 

“Still, I’m happy.”

 

“About what?”

 

“That you still tell me your worries.”

 

At my words, Jeong Seongbin laughed like a deflating balloon.

 

“What are you saying… of course I would!”

 

I could feel the trust in his words. I had been feeling embarrassed because I felt I had only shown him lackluster sides lately. Being an idol really did expose me to all sorts of experiences.