Chapter 22: Concept Planning (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 22: Concept Planning (1)
I thought back to the concepts Spark had tackled over the past seven years.
From their debut album, where they tried to pull off a "winter boy" vibe by singing ballads in a field of grass killed off by frost...
To the time they wore jumpsuits in an abandoned factory to sing love songs, presumably aiming for some kind of "unexpected charm."
Among them were a few concepts that actually suited the members quite well. It was just that the timing, seasonal appropriateness, and fashion sense had been catastrophically botched.
By the time the Cyber Warrior concept came out, you had to assume UA Planning’s creative vision was effectively dead.
I shook the image of those five gray Cyber Warriors out of my head. I didn't even want to remember it.
So, what kind of concept should I give Spark now?
I have to find a way to highlight their faces and physiques, at the very least...
First, I asked Lee Cheong-hyeon—who would be responsible for the lion's share of the songwriting—if there was a concept he hoped for. He replied:
"I want it to fit an explosive feeling. Something exciting!"
"Aren't you just saying that because it matches the song you're writing right now?"
The song Cheong-hyeon had been humming, claiming he was currently conceptualizing it, was actually a track that had been included in their debut album in the original timeline.
Since I knew exactly how that song would turn out, I knew precisely what kind of "feeling" he was talking about.
"My life goal is 'You only live once, so live it loud!'"
It wasn't particularly helpful, but since these were the words of our precious composer, I took note of them.
"Oh! How about a futuristic concept? It’d be cool, like a movie!"
"Don't even let those horrific words leave your mouth."
Unless you want to become a Cyber Warrior born from an LED screen again.
"Anything else you need?"
"Maybe some warm praise for a younger brother who's struggling for the sake of self-improvement?"
"Cheong-hyeon, you look so cool working hard to grow. Satisfied? Now, let's get back to work."
As I ushered Lee Cheong-hyeon back to his laptop, Park Ju-woo poked his head through the doorway.
I gestured for Ju-woo to come in, since he’d shown up of his own accord.
"We were just talking about concepts. Ju-woo, is there a concept you've always wanted to try?"
"If it's an idol-like concept... something with a bit of a 'strong' vibe."
His taste was still the polar opposite of his gentle aura.
"Do you mean you want the lyrics or the message to be strong? Or do you want the visual aspects, like the styling and choreography, to be intense?"
"......Hmm."
Park Ju-woo pondered, seemingly having not thought that far ahead.
"Knowing Ju-woo Hyung's taste, maybe he wants the difficulty of the song to be 'strong'? Like, with power high notes and stuff," Cheong-hyeon chimed in.
"As long as this group counts Park Ju-woo and Jeong Seong-bin among its members, we can't avoid high notes anyway."
"......If I had to choose, I'd prefer a strong message."
He had quite philosophical tastes.
The last time I’d pondered philosophy was when I was begging the higher-ups to finally decide on a "management philosophy" to put on Hanpyeong Industry's website.
After that, I asked Jeong Seong-bin and the rest of the members. I was able to get a rough idea of what each of them wanted to try.
Choi Je-ho: Intense choreography.
Jeong Seong-bin: Anything, as long as it suits the members.
Park Ju-woo: Something with a powerful message.
Lee Cheong-hyeon: Something exciting and explosive.
Kang Gi-yeon: Something that uses unique formations, grabs attention, and clearly shows the group's color.
They were like a group of people going to a Chinese restaurant and ordering five different dishes. How did they manage to stay together for seven years with this little unity?
I brushed aside a mounting headache and organized the requirements for the concept in my head once more.
The future looked bleak. The only idol album concepts I knew were the ones Spark had done for the past seven years.
There was only one solution for times like this.
Just as I had scoured the internet for HR document templates right after joining my old company, I had to throw myself into the sea of information.
I squeezed "reference research" into my already packed schedule.
My days were so bursting with work that I felt like I should charge the System for overtime pay.
Once, I had gone around collecting positive comments to prepare a birthday gift for Choi Je-ho.
That was back when... right, I’d said I would make a book out of supportive comments to give to him.
While browsing various communities back then, I’d seen a certain type of post that appeared every time Spark made a comeback, as if they were copy-pasted.
≫ Honestly, no company wastes their artists' faces like UA.
≫ They have kids who would look good if you just dressed them in matching colors, but they go out of their way to meticulously dress them in rags.
└ The "go out of their way to meticulously" part is the killing point lol.
└ Literally the #1 idols who look best in their own casual clothes.
Below that, the thread was flooded with photos of Spark wearing "Tetris looks," as if they thought simply having a top and a bottom was enough.
≫ It’s a talent to dress them like this for every stage.
≫ One of the members must have spilled an Iced Americano on the CEO's face.
└ Looking at the state of them, it looks like all five of them spilled it at the same time.
└ If the shirt the CEO was wearing cost 800,000 won, I could totally understand.
While the sharp criticism and flamboyant photos were making my head spin, something caught my eye.
What is this...?!
It was a photo of me.
I was wearing a black T-shirt with a neon yellow vinyl vest and white cotton shorts.
The post with this shocking photo even had a one-line comment.
≫ Kim I-wol’s outfit is seriously insane.
≫ He looks like a Post-it note that fell onto a keyboard.
The sheer eloquence of the insult made me break out in a cold sweat.
Even that post, which only had three views, had a comment.
≫ Those soulless eyes where the light has completely died are f*cking pitiful.
"Gasp...!"
The moment I made eye contact with my own blurry, lifeless pupils preserved alongside that comment, my eyes snapped open.
It was a nightmare.
No matter what happens, I am avoiding the Post-it concept.
I made a firm vow. My daily life was already hell, but I had a feeling today was going to be another rough one.
When I walked into the living room, Lee Cheong-hyeon was the first to catch my eye and greeted me.
"Hyung, did you have a nightmare? You were groaning in your sleep."
"You have no idea how glad I am that this is reality right now."
"Must have been a really nasty dream."
Receiving Cheong-hyeon's sympathy, I headed toward the kitchen, where someone was standing in front of the induction stove with a spatula.
It was Jeong Seong-bin, already fully prepared for school.
"What are you doing?"
"Oh, Hyung! Good morning."
Seong-bin pointed toward the dining table.
"I toasted some bread today. You should have some too, Hyung."
The bread was neatly arranged on the table.
No wonder it smelled so good this morning.
If he’d woken up early, he could have just rolled around in bed for a bit. His diligence was truly as if someone had breathed life into a morality textbook.
"Thanks. I'll enjoy it."
"It's nothing."
Seong-bin sat down and began to eat his bread as well.
To think that even someone like Jeong Seong-bin would become the "representative of fierce male idol leaders" after seven years in the industry.
I didn't even want to imagine how their future idol lives would unfold.
They say there is no end to learning.
For the past 29 years, I believed that saying didn't apply to me.
Mainly because I wasn't a fan of studying. I’d studied until I was sick of it during my student years; why would I want to do it as an adult?
In high school, my only reason for studying was to get away from home; in college, it was to get scholarships and graduate quickly so I could get a job.
I can say with absolute certainty that I have never once studied because I enjoyed it.
Even at Hanpyeong Industry, I was the type to dig a hole with a hand trowel because there wasn't a single handover document.
I truly wanted to stop learning new things under duress. And that probably would have been the case, if I hadn't brought this mess upon myself.
However, the old sayings were never wrong.
I admitted it to myself as I massaged my aching eyes while organizing the monthly TOP 10 charts from music sites for the past five years.
Seeing as a day had come where an office worker had to study the idol market, there really was no end to learning.
How can work keep piling up like this just as the Monthly Evaluation prep is finishing?
It felt like the sad memories I’d accumulated at Hanpyeong Industry were resurfacing.
After practicing during the day and staring at my laptop at night while sleeping only three hours a day...
"Hyung. I think your dark circles have evolved."
My face reached a state where Lee Cheong-hyeon felt the need to say that to me. I also felt like my chronic dry eye syndrome was acting up.
My complexion must have been truly terrible, because even Choi Je-ho asked me a question.
"Don't you get sleepy, sleeping that little?"
"Of course I do."
But if I didn't save on sleep now, I was certain that I’d be cursed with the "Post-it look" in the future.
Just thinking about that was enough to chase away any drowsiness.
"But what do you do at night, Hyung? Didn't you say you already picked the song for the Monthly Evaluation?"
"Preparing for the future?"
"Hyung, you really talk in a weird way," Cheong-hyeon said with a laugh.
I couldn't exactly tell them, "Be grateful I'm saving you from looking like kimbap wrapped in tinfoil," so I kept my mouth shut.
"......Still, Hyung, you don't seem nervous at all."
"Right. You did so well on your first evaluation, too."
Park Ju-woo and Jeong Seong-bin, who were stretching together, joined in.
Since I didn't want the attention focused on me, I quickly changed the subject.
"Thanks for the compliment, but shouldn't we start practicing soon?"
Fortunately, Jeong Seong-bin, who was a stickler for the rules when it came to practice, immediately switched into practice mode.
It seemed like the trivial conversation was over... or so I thought.
"Hyung."
"Yeah?"
Late at night, when only Kang Gi-yeon and I were left in the practice room, he spoke up, leading to another conversation.
"Could you spare a moment?"
I'm sorry, Gi-yeon.
But I'm starting to get scared every time you open your mouth.