Chapter 246: Taking a Break (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 246: Taking a Break (2)
“A lawsuit?”
I asked back, praying I had misheard him.
“I’m thinking of suing. Both UA and Hong Un-seop.”
Unfortunately, it turned out my hearing was perfectly fine. My right hand, holding the cup, began to tremble.
“Why? How? No, wait a second.”
Disputes between idols and their agencies had never been simple affairs since time immemorial.
And it wasn't just an idol thing. Whenever labor issues flared up between a company and its employees, noise was the natural byproduct. Companies tended to view employees who raised issues as insolent.
The moment an employee signals legal action, the company’s attitude shifts instantly. Whether the grievance is legitimate or whether the employee wins the case, it is never easy for them to remain at the company after a legal battle.
And he wanted to do that voluntarily? A rookie idol who hadn't even been debuted for a year?
“Surely you haven't mentioned this to the company yet, right?”
If he hadn't spoken up yet, there was still room to persuade him. I asked with a sliver of hope.
“I did.”
“What?”
“I told them I was considering legal action.”
This was the worst-case scenario. It would have been one thing if they had finished all the groundwork behind the scenes and then served the papers, but doing it this way just gave the company time to prepare.
“Why would you do that?”
I didn't think someone as savvy about the idol ecosystem as Seong-bin would be ignorant of such basic common sense. Nor was his judgment so clouded that he would act irrationally just because he was a bit shocked.
“Before that, what about the members? You have to listen to what they have to say, too.”
I appealed to his conscience to try and soothe him. Seong-bin was someone with an extraordinary sense of responsibility toward his members.
“Everyone agreed. That’s why I spoke up.”
The shock doubled. You guys need to read a full collection of labor dispute case studies by next week.
“First of all, whew… where do I even start with this?”
While I was racking my brain, Seong-bin cleared away the empty porridge bowl. Since he was so calm, I felt like the one acting strange.
“What specific issues do you want to raise against UA?”
“Neglect and maltreatment of their artists.”
“Maltreatment?”
Seong-bin spat out the heavy word with a nonchalant face.
“A company employee caused an injury that put someone in critical condition.”
“Yoo PD was fired.”
“But a similar problem happened again. Because of Hong Un-seop. You remember going on ‘Challenge.Living’ not long after your head injury, right, Hyung?”
“I was fully recovered by then.”
“Even so, the company didn't check if you were in a fit state to go. They knew it was a physically demanding program. In the end, you spent the whole night traveling and working.”
Seong-bin’s eyes darkened.
“They said they’d reflect and reorganize, but this time, an accident happened right inside the company. How can a relationship of mutual trust be maintained under these conditions?”
“You’re right about that. But this isn't a wise way to handle it.”
“I still believe it’s necessary,” Seong-bin countered.
“Seong-bin, companies are defensive. They don't lose these kinds of fights easily.”
I thought I understood the sentiment behind his words.
However, as the adult, I had to stop him for now. The world is not a kind place, and the deeper you dig, the more ugliness you find.
“Let’s say you’re lucky enough to win and get the contract terminated. What are you going to do about your activities in the meantime? You and Ju-woo are becoming adults now, and Cheong-hyeon and Gi-yeon are in high school. Isn't this the most important time for all of you? Once a lawsuit starts, your hands are tied for years. You could end up throwing away your entire early twenties.”
Even a one-year and two-month hiatus had a devastating impact on Spark. Would they still have any lifespan left as idols by the time a multi-year lawsuit ended and they found a company willing to re-sign the whole group?
I’d bet not. In that process, some members would inevitably drop out. Maintaining a single mind among everyone in a team is harder than it looks.
Seong-bin remained silent for a long time. Then, he slowly opened his mouth.
“I figured you’d worry about the conditions and the situation, Hyung.”
Seong-bin met my eyes.
“But to me, the members are the most important thing.”
“What?”
“Re-signing, hiatuses… it’s not like I haven't thought about them. I’ve heard plenty of stories, and I looked up a lot of things yesterday while you were hospitalized.”
“…”
“I know it won't be easy. Like you said, we might miss our golden age after a brief flash of activity. If we just stay quiet, it’ll probably end with us just claiming a reasonable amount of damages.”
He knew all of it. Then why on earth…?
As if piercing through my confusion, Seong-bin answered.
“But Hyung, what’s the point of all that if we lose one of us?”
His words were as sharp as a needle.
“The reason you asked to change the manager was the same, wasn't it?”
“…”
“Because it’s too late after an accident happens. And because that person was highly likely to cause one. You pushed for it even when the people at the company told you to reconsider.”
There was nothing wrong in Seong-bin’s words. He continued calmly.
“I don't want to see any more casualties. I don't want to leave any room for anxiety. I want to focus on work in a stable environment, without major worries.”
“…Even if it means things get ugly with the company?”
“I’m the leader. I have to take responsibility for the members.”
With that, Seong-bin gave a bright smile.
“So, I’d like you to review this matter positively, Hyung.”
Positively… huh.
From UA’s perspective, they wouldn't want to terminate the contract with Spark right now. Since Spark had just started making money, the company might have to cough up more than what the group had earned so far.
For that reason alone, UA might find them resentful, but they wouldn't be able to cast Spark aside for the time being.
At most, they could try to run Spark on a shoestring budget or neglect them, but Spark was already running on a shoestring budget. And they had experience handling almost everything themselves. Cutting the budget further wouldn't be a major blow.
Furthermore, what happened between Hong Un-seop and me hadn't been made public to the media yet. It seemed Seong-bin was keeping it as a bargaining chip; if this got out, UA would truly become a "problematic corporation."
Would they only be attacked by the Sparklers? How many other singers were signed to UA?
Those artists were established singers. If a disgraceful accident occurred within UA due to safety issues, they were at a career stage where they could move agencies at any time.
Even a rumor of financial trouble makes an agency a place to avoid; an agency where "terrorist-like" incidents frequently occur… no one would want to go there.
‘There actually is room for a positive negotiation.’
A sigh escaped me. After saying all that, Seong-bin belatedly started watching my reaction.
Looking at him, I didn't know what to say—it was truly remarkable.
One person’s head only spins with corporate interests, while another acts out of concern for people.
And sometimes, the latter suggests the best direction.
“The company really did a good job picking the leader, though.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t you think?”
Seong-bin’s eyes went wide at my words. He probably thought I was just joking around.
“I agree with suing Hong Un-seop. But let’s talk to the company first to see if there’s room for negotiation with UA.”
“You mean a settlement?”
“Before that, let’s see if UA is willing to negotiate with us before we even enter the lawsuit stage. We’re just swapping the order. Do you have a draft of the settlement terms?”
“Yes. I do, but…”
“Let’s present that as a proposal first. Can you go get it?”
“Wait. You should sleep first, Hyung. Let’s talk again when you’re feeling better.”
“I’ve done nothing but sleep since yesterday. Bring it. Let’s read it together.”
At my words, Seong-bin dashed to the living room and brought back a stack of papers. The pages were dense with text that had been crossed out and rewritten multiple times.
“Should I organize it first?”
“It’s fine. Let’s start by categorizing the nature of the demands. Instead of grouping them vaguely under ‘welfare,’ let’s clearly show what we want, like ‘protection of identity’ or ‘health management.’ There won't be that many items anyway.”
After that, we spent the dawn cursing Hong Un-seop, discussing how the company was also preparing a damages claim against him, and refining the language of the proposal to be clear and concise. Not long after I finally sent Seong-bin off to sleep, the sun began to rise outside the window.
The UA office was in a state of total emergency. This was because, following Kim I-wol’s collapse, Spark had expressed their intent to pursue a lawsuit if necessary.
Until this contact, Spark had not communicated with anyone at the company. Choi Je-ho had taken full charge of picking up Kim I-wol, and the rest of the members hadn't left the dorm. That alone was enough to convey that the members were serious.
Spark agreed to talk the day after Kim I-wol was discharged. Jeong Seong-bin and Choi Je-ho visited the office as representatives, asking if the company was willing to talk before a legal battle ensued.
CEO Yun Hyeon-ju and Min Ju-gyeong read through the proposal Seong-bin handed over with both hands with grave expressions.
The proposal was easy to read but specific. The demands listed were beyond the level typically applied in the industry—unprecedented terms that were practically unheard of in the entertainment world until now.
However, it was UA that had to back down. By not exposing the situation yet, Spark was giving UA an opportunity.
Having already experienced the wrath of a fandom once, the company needed to approach this issue with extreme caution.
After a brief review, Yun Hyeon-ju closed the papers and spoke.
“We’ll review this and get back to you within the week. Should I contact you directly, Seong-bin?”
“I would appreciate that.”
Seong-bin nodded. There was a time when Seong-bin had come to advise Yun Hyeon-ju for Kim I-wol’s sake; now, he was negotiating with the company for the sake of his members. Yun Hyeon-ju couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt.
Thinking the conversation was over, Choi Je-ho started to stand up, but Min Ju-gyeong stopped him.
“If you’re going to use the practice room, I’ll make sure the staff stays away from that area. So…”
“That’s okay,” Choi Je-ho replied dryly.
“We rented a practice room. We’ll be using that for the time being.”
Choi Je-ho and Jeong Seong-bin bowed and left the meeting room.
Though Yun Hyeon-ju was a veteran at dealing with people, she felt completely drained for the first time in a long while.