Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols Chapter 528 - Putting Oneself in Another's Shoes

The managers, realizing that Kim Iwol had disappeared, immediately went to the police station to file a missing person’s report.

 

A few hours later, the two returned empty-handed. The reason was that it was difficult to classify an adult who had voluntarily left an expression of intent to terminate his contract as a missing person. They had also been unable to get a definite answer as to when they would be able to file a report.

 

Jeong Seongbin went to check the CCTV footage, accompanied by the returned Pyeong Daeyeon. There, they confirmed images of Kim Iwol busily going back and forth to the recycling center while they were out for their schedule.

 

The footage clearly captured him busily putting out clothes and disposing of his belongings. Even though he made more than ten trips back and forth carrying large garbage bags or piles of belongings, not a single person looked at Kim Iwol strangely.

 

Kim Iwol’s trail became unclear after he stepped out of the apartment entrance pulling a suitcase. Jeong Seongbin delivered the grim news that the camera angles either didn’t cover the area or the footage was too blurry to distinguish people and objects.

 

An emergency was declared for the dedicated Spark team as well. There had never been anything as shocking in UtopiA’s history as an artist leaving behind only money and documents before vanishing. Employees and the CEO, struck by the disaster in the middle of the night, bombarded them with calls until their phones seemed ready to catch fire.

 

Choi Jeho was in a daze. While the other members were falling into confusion and scurrying about, Choi Jeho alone stood frozen, unable to move a muscle.

 

No matter how many times he read the letter Kim Iwol left behind, he couldn’t understand it. It was packed with acknowledgments that he had caused trouble for the team and apologies to the fans, but the reason itself was brief.

 

Because I lack the personal ability to continue my activities. The words were exactly the kind Kim Iwol would use, and the low self-esteem that showed no sign of improving was proof that the writer was indeed Kim Iwol.

 

But had anyone in Spark, UA, or among the fans ever said that Kim Iwol was inadequate to remain a member of the team?

 

Despite never having been told throughout his entire life that he was insufficient to fit in somewhere, Choi Jeho had never once thought that Kim Iwol was unqualified. It wasn’t based on a calculation like ‘Kim Iwol’s strengths outweigh his weaknesses’.

 

Was Kim Iwol bad at singing?

 

He was better than Choi Jeho himself and Kang Kiyeon. He recorded every song decently. Like the perfectionist he was, he handled live performances well enough to earn comments saying he was like a machine.

 

His dancing was objectively bad. But that was a story from a long time ago.

 

Through the survival program, Kim Iwol’s skills had improved rapidly. While early dance line videos were made for the purpose of comparing and belittling Kim Iwol against other members, later videos were produced with the intent of simply comparing the different dance styles of each member.

 

Despite this, Kim Iwol felt no particular emotion toward the changing public opinion. The praise that he had ‘shown remarkable improvement compared to the beginning of his debut’ seemed to mean very little to him.

 

Kim Iwol firmly believed that while it would have been best to debut as a fully formed performer from the very beginning, if he couldn’t, it was only meaningful once people said he was at a level where he could at least stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the other members.

 

Choi Jeho’s opinion wasn’t much different. What did it matter if someone was better than before? What mattered was whether they were objectively good or bad.

 

However, there was a fundamental difference between Choi Jeho and Kim Iwol.

 

Choi Jeho’s objectivity was only applied to his specialty, dance. Kim Iwol, on the other hand, was strict about everything. Because Kim Iwol was greedy, he applied his standards even to thoughts that others wouldn’t know unless he spoke them aloud.

 

My mental state isn’t very professional. Unlike you guys, I tried to debut with impure motives. I wasn’t qualified at a time when I wasn’t prepared. Objectively, I wouldn’t have been evaluated this highly if it weren’t for you guys… and so on.

 

People who leave themselves room to retreat usually use excuses as a means of justifying themselves. 

 

But Kim Iwol beat himself up from the front lines. He regarded himself as a pathetic human being who was deficient in every way and had a rotten mindset to boot. The one who treated Kim Iwol most harshly was himself.

 

There was a good chance that the f*cked up letter and handover document weren’t some excuse about wanting to quit being an idol and return to an ordinary life or whatever. He had probably written them sincerely. He had written down the nonsense that him staying in the team wouldn’t create positive synergy as if it were a fact.

 

Enough with the excuses. You son of a b*tch.

 

Choi Jeho’s hands weren’t just trembling; they were numb. He repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists while re-reading the text.

 

Anger surged through him. His mind was a complete mess, filled with the memory of himself saying that he would keep his promise to stay loyal, mixed together with the image of himself snapping in irritation and saying ‘Forget it’ when asked if there was anything else he wanted to know.

 

“Hyung.”

 

Lee Cheonghyeon called Choi Jeho in a sharp, cold voice.

 

While Kim Iwol was away from the dorm, Lee Cheonghyeon had been the one to protest most strongly during the process of explaining the situation to the members.

 

‘I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with two people the same age talking to each other. Private talk between friends? Of course you can. But is this really just a matter of chatting? That hyung can’t stop his behavior that borders on self-harm, yet you want us to relax just because the two of you talked it out and settled things?’

 

‘…….’

 

‘He jumped in front of a car. If he knew it was coming because of that unusually good intuition of his and acted beforehand, then he needs to be suspended from activities immediately. Even if he didn’t know, it’s still a huge problem. If it hadn’t been Iwol hyung, I might have considered it a brave thing to do. But for him, throwing his body to solve things is becoming a habit.’

 

At the time, Lee Cheonghyeon had felt betrayed by Choi Jeho. He had thought that the members shared a similar level of awareness regarding the problem, and wondered if that had merely been his own misconception.

 

‘Iwol hyung acts like he isn’t afraid of getting hurt or dying,’

 

With just that short sentence, Choi Jeho could guess what Lee Cheonghyeon was trying to say.

 

Choi Jeho had been told by Im Chanyeong that Kim Iwol had directly attempted to take his own life. That information had helped Choi Jeho gauge the state Kim Iwol was in.

 

Lee Cheonghyeon had not been told any of this. There was no way they would give the maknaes detailed information about something that had only been vaguely shared with leader Jeong Seongbin, taking his emotional state into consideration.

 

However, Lee Cheonghyeon was the sharpest person in the team. He had been too overwhelmed to think clearly after the lighting incident that had nearly turned into a major accident and the disappearance of their oldest member. Once he regained some semblance of normalcy and calmed down, however, he began noticing the strange details one by one.

 

For instance, Choi Jeho, who had always reacted harshly whenever Kim Iwol was injured or under severe mental strain, had gradually started taking a step back.

 

Or the way it felt as though Kim Iwol were slowly redrawing, with the heels of his shoes, the boundaries that everyone had thought were being erased. Or Pyeong Daeyeon’s attitude, which was sometimes particularly firm only toward Kim Iwol.

 

Lee Cheonghyeon quickly scanned through past events. He recalled the lukewarm attitude when Kim Iwol had severe head injury, the way he quietly disappeared that night after the stage accident instead of looking for the person responsible, and his face as he stood blankly pushed against the wall instead of stepping forward to take photos of the members even when taken to a famous landmark.

 

Sadly, the point at which Kang Kiyeon’s anxiety disorder relapsed was when Lee Cheonghyeon stamped his seal of certainty. Because his friend was the type to instinctively recognize an abnormality in a colleague.

 

Having watched the people around him closely enough to recognize his friend’s image in the behavior of a fellow member, Lee Cheonghyeon had no difficulty reaching a conclusion.

 

Kim Iwol had a very serious mental problem. More than anyone expected. The weaknesses he had revealed so far, or those Kim Iwol had openly admitted himself, were probably only the most superficial parts of it.

 

The fact that Kim Iwol, famous for being flawlessly meticulous, had started creaking somewhere—the fact that ominous changes were beginning to occur starting with a few people—was a signal that the ability to hide the bomb inside had malfunctioned.

 

There was no way someone like Kim Iwol would simply let his guard down. Not unless he had been driven so far into a corner that he could no longer properly conceal his flaws or his inner self. It seemed Kim Iwol had reached that state.

 

‘That’s a really serious problem. This isn’t something that can be overcomed just by taking a trip to relax or everyone cheering him on together. We’ve acted this way until now because we believed there was a part we could help with as colleagues, but if the situation is more serious than what we were guessing, we have to take other measures.’

 

‘…….’

 

‘He’s hanging by a thread, like he could snap at any moment. Even if all of us knew what was happening and prepared a countermeasure, we’d still be worried. So why are you trying to carry Iwol hyung’s problems all by yourself?’

 

Lee Cheonghyeon’s words were right in every detail. It was the kind of blunt advice that could only come from someone who had been standing closest to an unstable friend.

 

Choi Jeho didn’t refute him. He only defended Kim Iwol’s position.

 

‘I don’t think he can do that, given his pride.’

 

‘I know it can’t be easy for you either, hyung, but this isn’t the time to talk about pride…’

 

‘Think about how Kim Iwol has been acting as the hyung all this time.’

 

Kim Iwol was the kind of person who would willingly take the lead for his dongsaengs. When it came to other matters, he would back down and admit that his dongsaengs were right about almost everything, but he never compromised on things where an older brother was needed. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say it was almost the only part where Kim Iwol felt his value in the group.

 

‘That’s why you guys never tell Kim Iwol that you don’t need help from your hyungs either. Am I wrong?’

 

‘…….’

 

‘You think a guy like that would happily whine about having a mental breakdown?’

 

Right here in this very living room, Kim Iwol had once made up his mind to finally talk about what was going on inside him, only to pull a blanket over his head. He had felt ashamed in front of his dongsaengs.

 

And when asked whether they could really touch even that last shred of pride he had left under the pretext of keeping him safe, even Lee Cheonghyeon had been unable to argue.

 

‘I’ll talk to him properly.’

 

So Choi Jeho made a request to the members. He would keep an eye on Kim Iwol as much as he could, he said, so for now, he asked them not to pressure him. The members agreed, very reluctantly and only after considerable difficulty.

 

And back to the present, now.

 

Kim Iwol had vanished. Choi Jeho failed to keep his promise. Lee Cheonghyeon was here to talk about exactly that.

 

“How did this happen?”

 

Lee Cheonghyeon’s face twisted mercilessly as he stood facing him.