Chapter 127: I Praise My Teammates
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 127: I Praise My Teammates
“I’m home.”
“Oh? You’re back early, Hyung…?”
Park Ju-woo, who was stretching in the living room, approached me as I entered. He even kindly took my backpack and carried it to my room for me.
“They said they had to clear the building to clean the AC units at Green Line. So we wrapped up early.”
If it had been any other reason, I would have found a way to stall and stay, but I couldn't possibly argue with AC maintenance.
An unmaintained air conditioner is basically a piece of junk.
If the refrigerant runs out, the air gets lukewarm; if the drainage pipes get old, they leak; you have to change the batteries in the remotes constantly; and if mold grows inside, the smell is unbearable…
I still have vivid memories of getting soaked by water pouring from the ceiling like a waterfall and having to wash my hair in the mop sink. Back then, I really thought I was at a water park, not an office.
To the executives of Hanpyeong Industry, who still didn't fix the AC after all that—I hope you all get heatstroke this year.
While I was submerged in those damp memories, Kang Gi-yeon poked his head out from the kitchen.
“You’re back. Have you eaten?”
“Not yet. What about you guys?”
“We had chicken breast. Should I heat one up for you?”
“No, I’ll do it.”
At my words, Kang Gi-yeon simply nodded and headed back into the kitchen.
But something felt off.
I mean, just now, when Kang Gi-yeon came out of the kitchen…
“Gi-yeon.”
“Yes?”
“Did you get taller?”
My line of sight didn't drop as far as usual.
“Me?”
Gi-yeon pointed at himself.
The kid looked a bit flustered, but I didn't care. He might have grown taller—who cares about anything else?
“Guys! Someone get a tape measure!”
“Hyung, didn't you just see wrong?”
“There’s no way.”
How many Spark group shots do you think I’ve retouched? My eyes are a built-in insole detector, you punk.
At my shout, Jeong Seong-bin came running with a tape measure.
“How should we measure? Should we mark his height on the wall first?”
“This is a rental. Don't use a pen; use an index tab.”
Then, Lee Cheong-hyeon brought a rainbow-colored index tab from the stationery box they’d set up in a corner of the living room.
“Why in the middle of the night… We can just measure it at the company tomorrow.”
“Do you have any idea how much I’ve staked on your height?”
I retorted as I pressed the grumbling Kang Gi-yeon against the wall.
Taking the opportunity, Lee Cheong-hyeon carefully stuck the index tab where the top of Gi-yeon’s head touched the wall.
While Jeong Seong-bin and Park Ju-woo worked together to pull the tape measure taut, I prayed to the entire universe.
Please, I beg of you. Let this bastard grow.
I worked so hard. I made him take fitness classes, made sure he got his macros and calcium, and made him go to bed early. Even if it wasn't my own money.
What sin did the Sparklers commit to have to crop their SNS headers diagonally because of him? What sin did Kang Gi-yeon commit to have only his upper body cropped and shifted upward?
I’m already feeling anxious because the period I’ve been indebted to this team is getting longer; if I can't even get this kid to grow, I won't be able to live with the shame.
Just let him pass 175cm, and I’ll be grateful. I’ll make him drink milk five times a day from now on.
God, Buddha, Dangun the Great Grandfather, please…
“Whoa. Kang Gyeon, you hit 176?”
And so, my desperate prayer was answered by Lee Cheong-hyeon’s single sentence.
The next day, Kang Gi-yeon was officially recognized as having grown, with the height-measuring machine confirming he was 176cm.
And while Kang Gi-yeon himself stayed quiet, I went around bragging to everyone on the fan café and messenger apps that he’d grown.
“Is Kang Gi-yeon getting taller really that great?”
Choi Je-ho, who had been watching me indulge in my joy for a while, tossed the question out.
“Of course. If Gi-yeon hadn't said he hated it, I would’ve massaged his legs for him and then some.”
You can usually get work done the way you want, but matters like height are up to luck.
It’s something where the results might not show no matter how hard you try, so of course I’m proud that the effort paid off.
There’s still time before Kang Gi-yeon’s growth plates close. Even if I can't repay the favor with dancing, I plan to repay the grace through his height.
I just wish he’d grow to exactly 180cm.
In a year or two, Jeong Seong-bin and Lee Cheong-hyeon will naturally surpass 180cm. If Kang Gi-yeon joins them, Spark could claim the title of a group where every member is over 180cm.
A tall group is great. Their faces are already sharp enough to crack ice, so wouldn't it be perfect to push forward with that physical presence?
As I was deep in thought, about to add five cartons of low-fat milk to the grocery list, something felt uncomfortable.
It was as if Choi Je-ho’s mood wasn't very good.
That brat was rarely in a good mood, but it wasn't often that he was so visibly upset.
It’s not like the tallest guy in the team would be feeling threatened just because the youngest grew a bit.
“How’s the competition prep? Going well?”
Choi Je-ho, who was lying on his bed, flinched.
After hesitating, he looked at me once and sat up, leaning against the headboard.
“Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“Are our kids exceptionally good at accommodating others?”
This guy is cutting out the context again.
Do I look like a psychic to you? How am I supposed to know the whole story from just that?
Still, I could guess his intent. He must be clashing pretty hard with the All-over members.
However, I couldn't be his translator forever, so I decided to play dumb until he spoke properly.
“You can tell just by looking at them. They’re good kids.”
“Sigh…”
“Why? Did something happen?”
Choi Je-ho scratched his head aggressively.
“No, fuck, what kind of person signs up for the dance position and can't even follow the choreography?”
“Maybe they’re just slow learners? They might be good once they’ve learned it.”
“It’s different. Those weren't the movements of someone who knows how to use their body.”
I guess an expert can tell just by looking. Knowing absolutely shit about how to use my body, I chose to just listen.
“They don't contribute ideas, and when I suggest something, they whine that it’s too hard. Why even have meetings? Why even practice?”
“Right. So you haven't made much progress, then?”
“I figured it would take those people a million years just to memorize the choreography, so I made everything myself except for the dance break.”
“You worked hard. So, group practice from tomorrow?”
“They want to do individual practice for three days, what the… Don't we need to see the formation before I choreograph the dance break? We’re not doing separate stages, so what’s the point of just memorizing individually, fuck. And what kind of choreography takes three days to pick up?”
Choi Je-ho shouted in frustration. Then, he buried his face back into his pillow.
“What’s wrong? There was a time when you, Choi Je-ho, didn't think group practice was that important either.”
“That was in the past.”
He was exhaling so loudly that I could clearly see his shoulders rising and falling as he lay face-down on the opposite bed.
“You liked it better when you practiced with Spark, didn't you?”
At my question, Choi Je-ho’s back twitched.
When he sat up, his face was bright red from being pressed against the pillow.
Shit, did his nose get flattened? You’re banned from sleeping face-down from now on.
“Hey, compare things that are actually comparable.”
“They say the old guard is the best for a reason.”
It was a little funny seeing him get so worked up.
But this was also an experience I had intended for him to have to some extent.
It’s true that Choi Je-ho was the ultimate center, rightfully called the ‘Center Emperor,’ but a team doesn't succeed just because one person is brilliant.
The reason Choi Je-ho was able to show off his presence until now was that the surrounding members supported him sufficiently.
Kang Gi-yeon made Spark’s performances feel like a group stage rather than a Choi Je-ho solo show, and Jeong Seong-bin and the other members balanced things out beside him.
In the past, this might not have worked every time, leading to cluttered stages, but not anymore. Now, everyone in Spark looked skilled, and within that, Choi Je-ho soared.
I thought he needed to realize that fact himself.
He needs to know how precious his members are so he doesn't get any delusions about ‘finding his true self’ and debuting solo after leaving the group.
“Isn't it basic to ask for help if you can't do it? I don't get why they try to change the choreography the moment it gets a little complex.”
“The choreography must have been really difficult.”
“Then what, do we just do basic moves forever? Back in the day, Jeong Seong-bin practiced even while he was crying.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a total ‘Latte.’”
Now Choi Je-ho was practically spiraling.
It was a shame his luck with the draw was shitty, but it seemed he was getting exactly the experience I wanted him to have.
After huffing and puffing for a while, Choi Je-ho looked at me and asked.
“You said it before, right? That if I’m unhappy, I can do whatever I want.”
“When did I say that? I said you should do everything you’re supposed to do, but if you have something to say, say it.”
Choi Je-ho furrowed his brows at my words.
He thought about something for a moment, then spoke again.
“Are the results for this stage important?”
“The results aren't important, but doing well is—”
“I know, you said it’s fine as long as I look good to the fans.”
I’d said that before Idol Dynasty Annals started, and he remembered it surprisingly well.
“If the ranking doesn't matter and the broadcast image doesn't matter, then I’m going to do whatever I want.”
“What?”
“I said I’m doing what I want. The way they’re acting is annoying as hell, so I’m going to say everything I want to say—minus the profanity—and I’m going to push the pace however the fuck I want.”
I stared at him without a word.
He looked back at me and added briefly.
“I’ll make sure my part is perfect.”
No further answer was needed. I told him to go ahead, gave a small smirk, and left the room.
During the practice period that followed, I sang to my heart’s content.
First of all, things became easier as Park Ju-woo took over breakfast duties. Jeong Seong-bin took charge of checking the fridge.
The two of them were so perfectly in sync that I just had to enjoy the salads or chicken breasts they gave me.
After commuting to Green Line, I’d greet the security guard—who always welcomed me warmly, saying what a polite young man I was—and then I’d immerse myself in practice with the members of Berion… or so I thought.
“Hyung, do you want some of this? Our manager hyung bought it in Thailand!”
“Hyung, what’s your phone number? We didn't exchange numbers when we first met.”
“Hyung, how does Spark do idea meetings?”
These guys… when did they get so close?