Chapter 214: Performance Presentation (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 214: Performance Presentation (4)
I had told myself to be prepared for every possible situation, but there was exactly one thing I hadn't prepared for: Spark’s acceptance speech.
I’d thought about how to congratulate someone else on their win, how to repay the fans if our team won, and even a thank-you message just for being nominated for first place...
But I never imagined we would actually win and that I’d be given the floor.
You might ask if it isn't contradictory to have thought of a first-place pledge but not a speech. It couldn't be helped. It’s my ironclad rule to prepare for even the slimmest possibilities if it’s for the fans.
“Spark, please give us a few words on your win!”
Amidst the chaos, the MC handed the microphone toward us. Since I was standing at the end of the line, it ended up in my hand.
The problem was that there was no one to pass it to.
Jeong Seong-bin, our leader, was bawling. No, "bawling" wasn't enough to describe it. It was a full-on wailing session.
It seemed like all the hardships he’d endured were flashing before his eyes. How hard must it have been for him, at such a young age, to lead a group caught between strong-willed older and younger members? The frequent issues Spark faced must have been a heavy burden for nineteen-year-old Jeong Seong-bin to shoulder.
Kang Gi-yeon was shedding just as many tears as Seong-bin. Even as he tried to wipe them away, tears continued to stream from his eyes.
He was a guy who’d dreamed of being an idol ever since he was old enough to know better. Since he was ambitious, he probably felt that simply debuting didn't mean he’d become the idol he dreamed of being.
In that sense, I think this first-place win gave Gi-yeon a sense of certainty—the certainty that the long, hard road he took to return wasn't in vain.
Beside the weeping Gi-yeon, Lee Cheong-hyeon was trying his best to comfort his friend. But Cheong-hyeon’s own sleeves were already soaked.
Being told you're good by those around you is different from the public’s objective results. How anxious must Cheong-hyeon have been while Spark released songs and hovered on the music charts?
Excluding those three, the only ones left were Park Ju-woo, who was busily patting Seong-bin with a pained expression, and Choi Je-ho, who stood there with a blank look as if he hadn't fully processed the situation.
Dammit. I’m holding a fish, but I’m surrounded by cats. Every single one of them is a mess of emotions.
I tossed the mic to Park Ju-woo, who was the closest. Though flustered, Ju-woo stroked Seong-bin’s back with one hand and gripped the microphone firmly with the other.
“Thank you so much for first place. We... didn't expect this at all...”
Ju-woo struggled to continue. His voice was so unstable that no one could doubt the truth of his words—that they truly hadn't expected this.
“Sparklers, our families, and the UA staff... thank you. We will work even harder. Thank you.”
As soon as he finished, Ju-woo bowed deeply. Judging by the tremble at the end of his voice, it seemed he was holding back tears as well.
I don’t know if the MC felt sorry for us or was just trying to capture a touching moment, but instead of giving the closing remarks, he took the mic back from Ju-woo and thrust it toward us again.
“Our Spark, could we have one more person give an acceptance speech?”
Well, a Spark acceptance speech should be given by a member of Spark.
Since I had no other choice, I tried to pass the mic to Choi Je-ho, but he gestured toward me.
He was telling me to do it.
‘Me?’
I mouthed the words, but inside, I was thinking, I’m screwed. Every second of this was being broadcast live.
I wanted to force the mic onto him, but Choi Je-ho wasn't in a position to take it either. He was practically hugging and comforting both Jeong Seong-bin and Park Ju-woo at once.
I hesitated with the microphone in my hand. The words wouldn't come easily.
First, gratitude. An expression of thanks.
“To the Sparklers who worked the hardest for Spark’s first place, thank you.”
I wondered if my voice was even coming out properly. Striving not to make a mistake, I put weight into every single syllable.
“We know we wouldn't have received this award if it weren't for our fans. Thank you for giving us such a precious memory, and for being just as happy about our win as we are.”
The sound of my thumping heart filled my head.
To act like a professional, I should have mentioned the staff who worked by our sides and thanked Music World for the win, then capped it off with a cool, steady encore live performance.
“And...”
I knew all that, but then the guys came into my view.
Jeong Seong-bin, who had suggested we do a deep bow if we won, but whose legs had given out, leaving him kneeling with his head hung low.
Kang Gi-yeon, bent over with his hands on his knees, unable to look up, and Lee Cheong-hyeon, sobbing with his face buried in Gi-yeon’s shoulder.
Park Ju-woo, who had tried to help Seong-bin up only to end up kneeling and crying himself, and Choi Je-ho, biting his lip hard as he comforted the younger ones.
“...Our members worked really hard.”
Maybe that was why. Instead of the stakeholders I was supposed to thank, I ended up mentioning them.
“It is an honor to receive such a valuable award with these members I am so proud of.”
Seriously, this is all your fault. Because you guys are just crying and can't speak, I have too much time on my hands and end up saying things I didn't intend to.
Still, I had to say this one thing.
“Finally, Gi-yeon.”
Looking at Kang Gi-yeon was... well, it wasn't an easy action to take. So I kept my gaze fixed forward. Instead, I quietly placed a hand on his back.
“Thank you for doing your absolute best so we could stand here together. The fact that we could all receive this award together is all thanks to you. Thank you, once again.”
Kang Gi-yeon covered his face with his hands. I grabbed his collapsing arm. At the very least, I wanted to give him something to lean on.
In the end, Kang Gi-yeon couldn't lift his head. Because our two main vocals were crying like children, I had to handle the singing while Choi Je-ho took the rap.
Compared to the video I’d seen of Spark’s first-ever win in the past, this encore stage was a total disaster. Truly.
I didn't know Spark could be such a bunch of crybabies.
They cried relentlessly. Jeong Seong-bin was so dehydrated I had to force-feed him water.
Kang Gi-yeon wasn't much better. Lee Cheong-hyeon’s eyes were bloodshot from rubbing them so much, and Park Ju-woo had literally stuck tissues under his eyes.
It was such a struggle to round up these guys, who were built like doors, and get them back to the dorm. The manager was the one driving, but I felt like the one who was exhausted.
It was no wonder the staff, who had initially suggested a celebration party, told us to just go home and rest for the day.
“Why did you have to cry on stage? You should’ve been thinking about looking good for the camera.”
I nagged them incessantly as I placed cold sheet masks on each of their faces. Since Choi Je-ho hadn't cried, he was spared from the forced skincare treatment in the living room and was instead recruited as my assistant.
Lee Cheong-hyeon, who was lying in a row like dried fish on the temporary bedding spread across the living room floor, grumbled.
“An android like you, Hyung, wouldn't understand how we feel.”
“I told you not to speak until I say you can.”
At my words, Cheong-hyeon responded by clamping his mouth shut.
“What are you doing, tensing your lips like that? You’ll get wrinkles around your mouth. Now that you’ve won first place, you have to show an even more handsome side of yourself. Is being number one just some empty honor? Does the title of a 'number one singer' mean that little to you?”
“Ugh...”
At the word ‘first place,’ Jeong Seong-bin’s tear ducts were triggered once again. When I barked at Choi Je-ho to bring an ice pack, he grumpily brought over an ice pack wrapped in a towel.
Still, I’m proud of you for not crying and helping me manage the kids. If you had cried too, I would have wanted to cry for a different reason. And the video of Spark’s win would have been titled something like ‘Idols Who Turned the Stage into a Sea of Tears.’ Though I think they already managed to create a small river.
In recognition of his contribution to preventing a total disaster, I decided to extend a hand of kindness to Choi Je-ho today.
“You lie down in that empty spot too. Since you’re the elder, I’ll give you a special anti-aging mask.”
“Uh, you use it yourself.”
I was flatly rejected.
My life has already been anti-aged, so I don't need it, you punk. If people knew how many years I’ve been rejuvenated, I’d be getting love calls from every cosmetics company in the country.
“Hyung.”
As I was debating how to get Choi Je-ho to lie down when he wouldn't listen to reason, someone called me softly.
Jeong Seong-bin was looking at me with his eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“The swelling will be gone by tomorrow, right...?”
It was a bit funny to hear Jeong Seong-bin ask that after he’d been crying as if the world were ending. He really is a diligent guy. I guess he didn't forget that we have a schedule tomorrow.
“Of course. Why do you think I’m doing this in the middle of the night?”
“Right...”
Seong-bin smiled faintly, looking a bit sheepish. It might have just been his face feeling stiff because of the mask, though.
After turning the heating to an appropriate level and washing my hands, I returned to find a few of them dozing off. It seemed that after the heavy crying, exhaustion had finally set in.
Choi Je-ho and I brought blankets from our respective beds and covered each of them. Park Ju-woo, who is a light sleeper, seemed to wake up for a moment, but seeing the other members asleep, he lay back down and closed his eyes.
“What do we do now?”
Choi Je-ho asked as I moved to turn off the living room light.
“What do you mean? Go in and sleep. If you’re swollen tomorrow, you’re dead.”
“We have to take their masks off eventually.”
“I’ll handle that.”
“Let’s split the work.”
“Are you confident you won't step on them while walking around here?”
Looking at the dim living room, Choi Je-ho didn't argue. Instead, he quietly went back to his room. I heard the rustle of blankets from his room, and then it went silent.
The living room was appropriately dark. The dorm was quiet with everyone asleep.
The first-place trophy sat on the dining table, the one Jeong Seong-bin had gripped tightly even while crying.
The sensation of the microphone in my hand was still vivid.
Just thinking about it made my heart race again. It felt as if time had stopped at the moment Spark’s name was called.
My heart was overflowing...
It was a memory I, at least, would never forget.
There was a mountain of work to do tomorrow, and I had plenty to worry about, so it wasn't purely a moment of bliss.
But I felt peaceful. At least for tonight.