Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols Chapter 534 - Negotiation

“Which part are you referring to…?”

 

Jeong Seongbin took a breath, buying himself some time. He needed to know how CEO Yoon Hyunjoo was viewing the situation before he could steer the conversation in the direction he wanted.

 

The answer he received was completely unexpected.

 

“You must have been shocked. Is everyone okay?”

 

She didn’t demand to know the members’ stance on the situation. She didn’t interrogate him on whether they truly hadn’t noticed any signs while living in the same dorm.

 

“I heard Mr. Chanyoung and Mr. Daeyeon couldn’t stay much with you because they’ve been running back and forth to the police station.”

 

“The kids were the most shocked. They haven’t slept a wink.”

 

“I can imagine. It happened right after they got back from their schedules… They must have had a lot on their minds.”

 

Everyone was worried about Spark; no one was asking how to cover the financial losses. For Jeong Seongbin, who had come prepared for a sharp, confrontational atmosphere, this was disorienting.

 

“That rascal Mr. Iwol… we have to give him a piece of our minds when he gets back. Making the kids worry like this.”

 

“Mr. Daeyeon, you should handle the talking. He listens to you.”

 

“He doesn’t listen to me anymore. Besides, everyone knows. Nobody can win an argument against Mr. Iwol.”

 

“Where did that kid even learn to talk like that?”

 

Every word they said carried the assumption that Kim Iwol would come back. Even though they were criticizing him, it was clear just by listening that their emotions stemmed from worry, not anger.

 

Jeong Seongbin thought of the papers inside his bag—the report he had read and revised countless times to convince the company staff. 

 

However, before Jeong Seongbin could pull out the papers, the CEO spoke first.

 

“Seongbin.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Shall we wait for Iwol… just for a little while?”

 

Jeong Seongbin doubted his ears. But she didn’t correct herself by saying she had misspoken. He even briefly wondered if this was a ploy to neglect Spark using Kim Iwol as an excuse. The CEO put a brake on Jeong Seongbin’s racing thoughts.

 

“It’s absolutely not because we think Spark will lose its competitiveness without Iwol, or because we want to divert our resources to other artists. I don’t want the company to push the team when you guys haven’t even accepted a five-member lineup yet. We can’t give you an unlimited amount of time, but I’m thinking we could leave the door open for a while.”

 

If a change in membership was going to become an issue anyway, it was better for it to happen sooner rather than later—before the members had built up even more stories together, and before the memory of the full group became too solidified in the fans’ minds.

 

Nevertheless, the CEO said it was okay to wait. It wasn’t out of concern for the image or fan backlash, but out of consideration for the remaining members.

 

“The company knows very well that if we make a wrong judgment, we could end up wasting a very important period of your lives. So in the end, we’ll respect your opinion the most.”

 

“…”

 

“I promise we’ll do our best to ensure there are no delays in schedules and that operations will continue much like usual.”

 

Having been by the side of Kim Iwol—who loathed company and contract issues—Jeong Seongbin knew all too well. Kim Iwol would constantly denounce how calculating corporations were when it came to money and how they picked apart every single clause in a contract. Yet, at the end, he would always add one thing.

 

‘In that regard, UA is quite clean. They don’t have any toxic clauses.’

 

At first, Jeong Seongbin had thought Kim Iwol was merely sugarcoating things because he didn’t want the members to develop unnecessary hostility toward the company. There had even been times when Jeong Seongbin thought Kim Iwol was too soft. He had found it frustrating that, despite all the problems with the company, Kim Iwol still considered things from the company’s perspective. He was just too nice… Jeong Seongbin had felt frustrated. He felt it even more when Kim Iwol said he wouldn’t sue the company.

 

As the years passed, extreme cases began to pop up around them. MYTH was a prime example. Partha certainly wasn’t blameless, but despite both sides bearing responsibility, keeping idols overseas for years without giving them any opportunity to explain or show remorse was cruel—not only to the group but also to the fans being exploited as a source of income. For the sake of members like Han Gawoon who were dragged into it, the company should have found a healthier way of handling things.

 

Agencies that sent members to schedules even when injured, advertisers who forced dangerous shoots, staff who were so negligent in managing members that they leaked personal information without any sense of security. Things that had been ghost stories before debut became reality after debut.

 

Even so, Jeong Seongbin had no intention of going easy on UA. It was especially so because he was the bridge between his colleagues and the company.

 

‘I need to be able to say the harsh things my members can’t say for themselves. If the company treats us unfairly, I must be the one to step forward and block it.’ 

 

Those were thoughts he had always carried with him.

 

He had once asked Kim Iwol directly. He had said, rather presumptuously, that although hyung scrutinized everything carefully, there were times when he seemed strangely lenient. Jeong Seongbin had asked because he wasn’t sure whether Kim Iwol’s habit of always reaching out first in order to maintain relationships was really the right approach.

 

Kim Iwol didn’t get offended, nor did he scold him for asking such a thing. Instead, he gave various reasons. Because my personal standard is low, because the general environment of the industry is so poor that I naturally judge things by comprasion… There were so many reasons it was hard to remember them all.

 

Among them, the one that stuck in his memory most was this:

 

‘I also think a company should have had a certain foundation from the beginning, and I think the changes are happening way too slowly. That’s probably the thing I’m most disappointed about.’

 

‘…’

 

‘But in the end, they do change.’

 

Bit by bit, they were constantly changing for the better.

 

Kim Iwol said that was what he liked about the company. Jeong Seongbin had felt that Kim Iwol was being too modest. What was the point if change couldn’t keep up with incidents and problems? Just because they were favorable toward the company didn’t guarantee that the company felt the same way about them.

 

That was why Jeong Seongbin had always fought tooth and nail whenever there was something they needed to communicate with the agency about. He did his best to ensure the company never intervened in any decision the members made. He insisted on the team’s opinion as the number one priority at all times.

 

And now, he realized that the company, which had been changing slowly, had reached a point where they could stand and look in the same direction. It was the result of Kim Iwol constantly giving feedback, patiently waiting, and going through the process of improvement together with them.

 

It was a decision that made it difficult to see UtopiA as a ‘company with a firm system’.A breach of trust had occurred between the parties to the contract, and someone else could potentially exploit this precedent. A company should have considered such consequences first. Jeong Seongbin had prepared for that, too.

 

“It wasn’t an easy decision to make.”

 

If UtopiA remained nothing more than a company that was simply too nice, it might be convenient to deal with for now, but there would be no telling when they might cause the same problems as before.

 

“Still… I know how many times Iwol put up with things while struggling with company issues. I’m trying to give him as much leeway as he has given us. Just make sure you understand that this doesn’t mean we’re going to turn a blind eye every time.”

 

However, if the basis for UtopiA’s irrational decision was their soft and human side, and if that agency held the decisive vote in a critical moment…

 

The company would naturally include Kim Iwol in that realm of people they stubbornly protected, and they were willing to make high-risk decisions for him.

 

‘It might seem more effective in the short term to go around looking for a good company. It’s faster, and you can predict what the future will look like. But setting aside the wasted time and energy, if one day there are no more companies left among the candidates that can fulfill what we want, then we won’t be able to look forward to a future anymore. We’re not going to be idols for just a day or two, so I want to make the most of UA’s strengths.’

 

‘Do you think UA can change enough to meet our expectations in the long run?’

 

If he counted the years of frustration and anxiety, there would be no end. There were countless words he had swallowed because he couldn’t bring himself to say them. Because of that, he had tried harder than anyone to remain vigilant.

 

‘Since I’ve seen the possibility, I have to make it happen. I happen to be pretty persistent.’

 

And yet, when it came down to it, Jeong Seongbin always ended up accepting the arguments of his kind and gentle hyung. Always.

 

This one incident wouldn’t completely change his negative perception. He didn’t intend to wait just as much as Kim Iwol had sacrificed and endured.

 

But now that he knew what it felt like for them to finally become a real team, he thought that, from now on, even if Kim Iwol took the company’s side just a little, it would be difficult for him to coldly argue back.

 

***

 

UtopiA and Spark, having reached an agreement, immediately began coordinating their story. They needed to come up with an explanation that the fandom would find convincing while avoiding lies as much as possible.

 

“How about we say he’s sick? Iwol hyung would hate it… but I think that method will cause the least trouble.”

 

And it wasn’t entirely a lie. At Jeong Seongbin’s suggestion, a shadow fell over Choi Jeho’s face. Park Joowoo comforted him.

 

If a member went on hiatus because they were ill, no one would throw stones for skipping a birthday live once the circumstances were made public. Since the state of the birthday boy, Choi Jeho, wasn’t great either, they decided to cancel that day’s live and and hold a small replacement livestream at a later date.

 

Approval of the wording for the announcement and discussions concerning the paid services currently on sale proceeded smoothly. Rather than rushing out an announcement only to change their story later and cause even more confusion, they decided to take a few days and double-check everything.

 

When it was time to talk about the album, tension returned to the conference room. Everyone was under the impression that Lee Cheonghyeon, Park Joowoo, and Kang Kiyeon might refuse to make a comeback unless it was as the full group.

 

“Are we going ahead with the comeback as planned?”

 

So when Kang Kiyeon brought up the comeback first, everyone nervously gauged their moods.

 

“We probably should, shouldn’t we? We’re not doing the birthday livestream, and the year-end performances will have to be done by the five of us. The content is going to drop too much.”

 

Lee Cheonghyeon spoke in a calm voice. The staff members’ eyes darted back and forth.

 

The people who had watched Kim Iwol and Lee Cheonghyeon’s entire history of producing music up close couldn’t help but feel anxious. They had seen the two of them pour everything they had into making each album, so even though they had already agreed beforehand to respect Lee Cheonghyeon’s wishes as much as possible, they were still on edge.

 

“He’ll think it’s his fault if we lose our momentum. I don’t want to ruin the sincerity of someone who tried to make sure his choice wouldn’t hinder our activities.”

 

“Joowoo, what do you think?”

 

Park Joowoo’s answer wasn’t much different from Lee Cheonghyeon’s.

 

“I’m worried. I’m afraid that if we show him that the rest of us are doing fine without him, he might think he isn’t needed and decide not to come back… Still, I have to do my best so that I’ll have something to say when I meet him.”

 

“If we don’t promote and our standing decreases, what do you think he’ll think of us?”

 

Even Kang Kiyeon cast a vote of agreement with Cheonghyeon. The only one left was Choi Jeho.

 

“…What about you, Jeho hyung?”

 

Choi Jeho pondered for a long time with a complex expression. It was unlike him, who usually made decisions quickly and rarely regretted what he had decided.

 

It took longer than usual, but Choi Jeho reached his own answer before anyone could push him.

 

“Let’s do it.”

 

“Will you be okay?”

 

“Because I think I’ll feel even worse if we just stay still.”

 

By the time everything was settled, the sun was high in the sky. So many things had happened in just twelve hours that entering the dorm in the dead of night felt like a distant memory.