Author: LyraDhani
“It’s all out of love for the mbers! To celebrate becoming a brand model! This is a one-ti thing, okay? I’d appreciate it if you guys just accepted it.”
Lee Cheonghyeon hurriedly made his excuses. However, Jeong Seongbin didn’t back down.
“That’s because the price is anything but ‘one-ti.’”
“But when else will I get to give such a aningful gift? I’m doing this before my contract ends. I won’t be able to do this for you guys later.”
Do you really think L’aînesse would let you go without a contract renewal? When their brand recognition among people in their 20s shot up after changing the model to you?
Moreover, do you think L’aînesse is the only brand eyeing you? Although accessory competitors might not be able to have you, products for every part of your body from head to toe are waiting for you!
As I held my forehead, Choi Jeho brought a headache pill and water. I couldn’t tell if I should be grateful or not.
“When did you even buy these?”
“When we went for the departnt store scouting. You didn’t suspect a thing, did you?”
“Did Kiyeon know too?”
“He didn’t. I lied and told him the staff called away briefly for model work.”
“I don’t recall L’aînesse selling stainless steel products. Is it white gold?”
“Exactly. I wanted to go with gold to give off a vibe of wealth, but our mbers are all cool-toned. I matched them to your personal colors.”
“……”
“If it were up to , I would’ve gone with 24k. But they said they don’t make 24k products. Apparently, they deform too easily.”
“Haa…”
“And… pure gold is heavy.”
Lee Cheonghyeon spouted nonsense with a perfectly serious face. I left the scolding to Jeong Seongbin and collapsed onto the sofa. The mont I closed my eyes, a dley of nagging began—so lulling it almost put to sleep.
*
‘He even threw away all the receipts already…’
The bracelets we never managed to refund had remained on the mbers’ wrists ever since that day.
After experiencing his bracelet getting caught in the guitar strings a few tis, Kang Kiyeon exhibited the bizarre behavior of practicing with the bracelet taped down. Lee Cheonghyeon cackled while taking photos of it.
Seeing how happy Lee Cheonghyeon was just from the mbers wearing them, I thought he’d be several tis more delighted today—the first official occasion where we’d step out wearing our friendship bracelets.
Yet, a slight frown was etched between Lee Cheonghyeon’s brows. He seed dissatisfied with sothing.
“What kind of serious worry do you have that you’re doing sothing as bold as straining your brow while getting makeup done?”
“Our styling. We’re recreating our Season 1 self-PR stage, right?”
Lee Cheonghyeon spoke while lightly tugging at the white T-shirt he was wearing.
“What was our concept back then?”
“Pure, fresh, refreshing, bright, lively, and healthy rookie boy group.”
“Right? What if the bracelets make us look like nouveau riche?”
It was a fairly plausible concern. Fashion often teetered between ‘hip’ and ‘tacky’ by a hair’s breadth.
“I don’t think you look like new money. It’s not yellow gold, and it has a simple string-bracelet feel.”
“Is that so? I guess I made a good choice picking sothing simple, after all?”
“But since you, the giver of the gift, brought it up first, I have a proposal.”
“What is it?”
As soon as I finished speaking, the stylist brought over a small, flashy box. it was filled with tiny tools and high-presence charms.
“How about a limited-ti kitsch custom?”
I didn’t even need to hear the answer. Lee Cheonghyeon’s eyes were already fixed on the sparkling jewels filling the box.
*
Living as a celebrity, there were countless hardships. He’d been unfairly showered with cara shutters over things he’d hadn’t done, and being lumped together with others and cursed at was practically routine.
Nevertheless, the reason Polo could keep his head high was that his conscience was clear.
I have never done anything to harm others. I haven’t broken the law, nor have I lived insincerely.
In an industry where smoke rises even without fire, that pride had been what sustained him. And yet, that pride crumbled so easily.
≫ There was a reason Hellas ca out as the MC.
≫ They were all in it together, must’ve been sweet as hell for themㅋㅋㅋㅋ
As always, Polo had done nothing shaful. He could confidently say he’d never excessively pushed Parthe on air.
However, he couldn’t claim innocence amidst the pouring criticism. Having renewed with MYTH, it was natural for people to think Hellas was just like their agency. This was a responsibility that soone with decision-making power had to bear.
He wanted to quit.
But finishing what he’d taken on was also part of that responsibility.
Polo couldn’t step down. In a situation where it was revealed that even the program had been run under the agency’s pressure, the MC couldn’t cause more trouble for the production team by bailing.
With a heavy heart, Polo ca to the set. When the cast mbers approached to greet him, he told them they’d worked hard.
Once the live broadcast began, he did his best to maintain a bright deanor. Though he could practically see the comnt window he’d read all night hovering above the audience, he narrowed his vision and smiled until the corners of his eyes crinkled.
“Please welco the first contestant to open the battle for the throne!”
Spark had earned the right to decide their order after Slay, who had taken 1st place in the previous round. The young juniors boldly chose the first slot.
The script delivered before the live broadcast was packed with comnts before and after Spark’s turn. He had wondered if it was a shallow gesture of goodwill to make up for the biased broadcast.
‘Spark is doing a band stage. We have to clear away all the instrunts before the next turn, so you need to buy us so ti after Spark’s stage ends.’
So they did have a reason. Polo looked down at the cue sheet, which had an unusually high number of lines, for a long ti.
Invevitably secured interview ti. A leading slot chosen to match the day real-ti text voting would be tallied. A band genre optimized for livening up the atmosphere.
None of this could be a coincidence. Spark wasn’t a team that relied on luck.
Spark walked out from behind the stage. They were dressed in white T-shirts and jeans splattered with paint. It was an outfit similar to the first episode of Season 1, which Polo had monitored before joining IDC.
“Our Spark, I heard you prepared especially hard for this stage.”
Yur began the interview. Jeong Seongbin’s eyes, catching the bright lights, sparkled as he held the microphone.
“Yes, we’ve been waiting for this day!”
Jeong Seongbin and the mbers on either side of him smiled brightly.
No one was whipping Spark to work harder. Even Polo, who had worked under good treatnt, had found himself wishing, ‘Let’s just wrap this up and be done with it’, yet they said they had been waiting for today.
“It must’ve been difficult preparing a self-composed song and practicing as a band. Any morable episodes from practice?”
“Joowoo hyung is such a good singer that I had to work hard not to get in his way…”
“It’s true. Kiyeon even slept holding his pick.”
Through this whole ordeal, Polo learned that Song Minil had often made inappropriate remarks about Spark. Sothing about ‘there was so friction’, wasn’t it?
Yet, Spark, who must have suffered for nearly a year, didn’t say a single word. They showed no sign of exhaustion.
It felt different from just being mature. It was a focus on only what they had to do. That was sothing the current Polo was also struggling and trying hard to do.
“I’m really looking forward to what kind of stage Spark will show us.”
“Then, Spark, please get ready!”
The pre-interview ended with Yur’s words. The practice scenes of Spark were broadcast on the displays installed on both sides of the stage. The original footage was likely airing for the viewers.
『Iwol: Let’s run it from start to finish, and every ti soone makes a mistake, twenty push-ups.』
『Kiyeon: That’s fine, but who’s counting? If we’re going without stopping, soone has to count in the middle.』
『Iwol: I’ll count. I can do it.』
『Cheonghyeon: Shouldn’t this hyung go on ‘Idol Oddballs Chronicle’ instead of ‘Idol Dinasty Chronicle’?』
『Joowoo: Should I have played an instrunt too…?』
『Seongbin: Was there an instrunt you wanted to learn?』
『Joowoo: There was sothing you strike like a harp, sh-sh-sh-ring…』
『Jeho: A blind?』
『Iwol: A wind chi.』
『Kiyeon: I filled up my whole practice notebook.』
『Cheonghyeon: Wow, mories. We used to draw an apple for every run-through.』
『Kiyeon: Seongbin hyung sotis sighed and put his pen down after trying to color in two apples for one run.』
『Seongbin: You saw that…?』
『Cheonghyeon: Don’t be embarrassed, hyung. It’s a natural phenonon!』
Even on the slightly blurred screen, the fingers tightly wrapped in bandages and the wrist taping peeking out from long sleeves were clear.
As the video ended and the stage turned dark, Polo stood frozen at the edge of the stage, unable to take a step away.
*
As I plucked the strings a few tis to check the sound, the bass resonated heavily. It was a calming vibration, the very mid-low tone that had first captivated .
The lights blazing down from above were bright and hot. Even inside the venue, it felt like standing beneath a midsumr sun.
As I took my place at the back left of the stage, I could hear small rustling sounds. The sound of Choi Jeho pulling his chair, the sound of Kang Kiyeon habitually pressing the strings hard to prevent noise and scraping the edge of his pick against a string. The sound of Park Joowoo tapping the microphone handle twice with his fingertips, and Lee Cheonghyeon aninglessly pressing the ‘A’ key.
I was twenty-two when I first perford in a band club. I rember learning only chords and basics after entering, declining to perform the next year because I was too shy to play in front of people, and then finally doing it just before enlisting.
‘It was fun.’
The sound hadn’t carried as well as in the practice room, and without air conditioning, the humid early-sumr air made the bass feel heavier than ever.
Even so, the feel of the strings under my fingertips on that early sumr night, the low rhythm vibrating through the amp and speakers into the stage floor—it had thrilled beyond words.
The people I was with back then weren’t by my side anymore, but faces just as familiar filled the void. Gazes more inexperienced than theirs were directed at .
“Let’s have fun.”
I spoke just loud enough to be barely caught by the microphone installed at waist height. Park Joowoo, standing at the very front, smiled brightly. The bracelet on the wrist of his hand holding the microphone glittered.
The production team’s cue signal ca from below the stage. Choi Jeho struck the crash cymbal rhythmically. The sharp tallic sound shattered like dust.
A fan-service band song that we planned to include as a B-side if we were to make a coback in the second half of the year.
『speaker』 began.
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