Chapter 272: The Importance of Practice
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 272: The Importance of Practice
“Hyung, that headband is really… intense.”
Lee Cheong-hyeon muttered as he stared at the neon pink cat-ear headband secured to the top of my head with bobby pins. I returned the overflowing praise with a compliment of my own.
“Your hat is no joke either.”
The hot pink hat with its perky ears was quite cute. The light blue hair poking out from underneath it was an immediate eye-catcher.
“Weren’t you going to put a badge on the hat? Why is it still plain?”
“They said they could embroider it instead. With a black X.”
“That sounds good.”
While Lee Cheong-hyeon and I were showing off who was more pink in front of the mirror, a human personification of pink walked over from a distance. It was Kang Gi-yeon, reborn as a cute pink boy for the year-end festivities.
“Am I really performing on stage like this?”
Kang Gi-yeon asked with an expression that suggested something had gone terribly wrong.
His hair was a perfect pale pink, he wore a choker with silver chains layered over a pink ribbon, his outfit consisted of pink mid-thigh shorts, and his shoes were shiny pink platforms.
Nothing was different from what had been communicated beforehand. Even the white rabbit-shaped socks and transparent pink goggles were perfect.
“Why? It’s exactly like the concept draft.”
“Now that I’m actually wearing it, it’s just… pink from head to toe…”
Standing before the mirror, Kang Gi-yeon adjusted his clothes with a reluctant face. Not that it changed the color scheme one bit.
“Gi-yeon, you look like that one snack. The strawberry chocolate-covered one.”
“Ah…!”
Park Ju-woo couldn’t hide his admiration at the incredibly apt comparison. Black nail tips peeked out from under the sleeves of Park Ju-woo’s oversized hoodie. If you’re going for rock spirit, you need black nails, after all.
“Ju-woo, how about you? Is the outfit okay?”
“It’s fine, except for the pants flapping around…”
Park Ju-woo grabbed both sides of one pant leg and spread them wide. There was enough room in there for two of his legs and then some.
But they say that’s fashion. Just hang in there.
Meanwhile, there was someone else struggling to adapt to the new fashion: Jeong Seong-bin.
Jeong Seong-bin was personally experiencing a fashion revolution—wearing a baggy shirt untucked instead of tucked in.
“Are the buttons supposed to be fastened like this?”
Jeong Seong-bin asked, fiddling with buttons that were clearly misaligned.
They say that’s fashion… an unbalanced look… Just endure it…
“Have some confidence, Hyung! It looks good on you!”
“I’m not lying, I’ve never seen anyone dress like this except for Jeong Seong-jun.”
Jeong Seong-bin spoke gloomily, despite wearing sunglasses that looked like melting hearts. To anyone else, he looked like the biggest fashion revolutionary in the room.
“That just means Seong-jun Hyung is a fashionista. He’s an artist, after all.”
Lee Cheong-hyeon tried his best to soothe the completely discouraged Jeong Seong-bin. It didn’t seem to have much effect.
Behind the dejected leader, another star appeared.
“Does a sleeveless top in the middle of winter even make sense?”
It was Choi Je-ho, wearing a black sleeveless shirt, hot pink cargo pants, and a headband that matched the pants.
“Why wouldn’t it? Gi-yeon’s knees are completely exposed.”
“And Lee Cheong-hyeon is wearing arm warmers?”
“Jealous? Want me to put some on you too?”
“Forget it.”
Choi Je-ho snapped back. Honestly, the attitude on this guy even when offered help.
“Wait, where’s your inner layer?”
Just as I noticed something looked a bit empty, Choi Je-ho’s bare neck caught my eye.
“Inner layer?”
“The mesh one. The one you were supposed to wear under the sleeveless shirt. Wasn’t it on the hanger?”
At my words, Choi Je-ho stared at me blankly.
“Ah.”
“Ah?”
“I thought it was a net.”
With that, he headed back into the dressing room. My heart nearly turned to ash from frustration.
That mesh is the highlight of the outfit! Without the inner layer, how is your sleeveless top any different from an ‘Adan-un’ basketball jersey? Don’t you know my ironclad rule is to show the Sparklers a new side of Spark every single day?
“Choi Je-ho is going to be the death of me.”
“Hyung, let’s try not to say things like that.”
“My bad.”
I immediately apologized at Jeong Seong-bin’s remark. Then, I waited for Choi Je-ho to come back out properly dressed.
Spark doesn’t usually wear heeled shoes.
This was due to my strong demand to protect their knees as much as possible until their growth plates closed, and also because the members were already tall enough without them.
However, right now, Spark had meticulously matched every single prop to become one with the stage outfits of their Pink Carat seniors…
“Whoa, did you hear that just now?”
“Is the floor going to collapse…?”
…And they were having the once-in-a-lifetime experience of the basement thumping every time they took a step. It wasn’t that the shoes were heavy, but because the soles were so hard, the sound of their footsteps was incredible.
I wonder if the microphones at the Music Grand Festival will pick up the beat of their feet? If they’re this synchronized, someone might even boost the footstep audio and upload it. Should I just start an account myself?
While I was lost in thought, the boys put their heads together and started a meeting to improve the performance.
“The choker keeps spinning around. What should I do? Do I just have to keep turning it back?”
“Ju-woo Hyung, it’s cute when your nails are visible. Let’s make sure your hand is facing the front when you hold the mic during your part.”
“The sides of this sleeveless shirt are short, so it keeps riding up. Is this right?”
“That’s probably the point of that shirt.”
“Why are there so many damn ‘points’?”
Just as everyone was chiming in with Jeong Seong-bin acting as the daily secretary, the practice room door opened. Teacher Oh Eun was standing there, holding a convenience store bag.
Upon seeing her six disciples in their flamboyant attire, the teacher burst into a loud laugh—the first time I’d seen her do so since we met.
Won Chae-hee failed to get a ticket to attend the Music Grand Festival.
The reason was simple. A hardcore fan never has luck when it counts.
It felt like only yesterday that she’d successfully booked fan meeting tickets with beginner’s luck, but now Spark had grown so much that she couldn’t go see them with her outdated laptop.
Right, at my age, what’s the point of going in person anyway?
Despite having followed them all the way to ‘Adan-un,’ Won Chae-hee attempted some mental gymnastics.
I’m already tired from all the year-end work, why bother? It just costs money to travel there and back. Watching from home might actually give me a better view… and so on. There wasn’t a single reason why watching from home was bad.
It’s not like they only have one or two events.
Even though they were rookies, Spark had secured spots in all three major year-end music festivals this year. Won Chae-hee felt proud seeing Spark’s name firmly in the lineups, even though they weren’t from a massive agency that guaranteed such appearances.
Now that watching from home was confirmed, Won Chae-hee’s task was to pick out the alcohol and snacks for the day. She wanted to detach herself from the mundane world and enjoy Spark in the best possible condition.
I should check what meal kits they have on my way home.
Just as she was closing her laptop after wrapping up her schedule, her colleagues who had gone out for lunch began returning to the office one by one.
“Chae-hee, did you finish the work you said you had to do?”
“Yes. Did you have a nice lunch?”
Even though she’d made an excuse to eat separately today because of work, her colleague, Assistant Manager Cheon, insisted on talking to her.
To an outsider, he might look like a kind person checking on a colleague who skipped lunch, but Won Chae-hee could never bring herself to like him.
“Were you doing that again today? Ticketing?”
“No. I had some documents to file online.”
“Oh, come on. I should check if you’ve put in any leave requests, Chae-hee.”
An excessive meddler. Someone with zero helpfulness but an unnecessary amount of interest in others. Won Chae-hee hated this type of person.
I should never have mentioned I liked idols in the first place.
It was her own fault for making the excuse that she was too busy following idols to avoid his half-baked attention. Since that day, the Assistant Manager had made snide remarks every time she did anything.
‘So, Chae-hee, do you catch taxis to chase them around for photos? Do you stay up all night in front of their dorm?’
‘I heard idol fans max out their credit cards buying albums. Is that why you’re skipping lunch, Chae-hee?’
‘You’re taking leave next Tuesday? I should look up what that idol’s schedule is. Then I’ll know where you are.’
Every word was blatantly offensive, but she couldn’t show it. She just ignored him as best as she could.
Despite her efforts, there were days when he really got under her skin. Today was one of those days.
“I wonder if those kids even know fans like you are grinding your lives away to support them. Don’t you think?”
This bastard is crossing the line.
Won Chae-hee firmly believed that ‘sasaengs are not fans,’ she managed her own credit, and she believed anyone—including herself—was free to use their personal leave however they wished.
There’s a limit to how much you can needle someone.
Unable to listen any longer, Won Chae-hee turned her chair toward the Assistant Manager.
And almost at the same time…
“Assistant Manager Cheon, wasn’t that a bit rude to say to Assistant Manager Won?”
…Their senior intervened.
It was Assistant Manager Yeo.
Unlike Won Chae-hee or Assistant Manager Cheon, who had only recently been promoted to Assistant Manager, she was up for a promotion to Manager and was someone they could learn a lot from in many ways.
Assistant Manager Yeo had many strengths. Among them, her character was something everyone acknowledged.
Despite being in a role that required communicating with many people and being the company’s social butterfly, almost no one had a bad word to say about her. Unless they were a complete sociopath.
Assistant Manager Cheon scrambled to make an excuse, but it didn’t work on Assistant Manager Yeo.
“If you’re going to explain yourself, do it to Assistant Manager Won, not me.”
“……”
“I’m not just talking about this one incident. I think you need to reflect on your words and actions, Assistant Manager Cheon.”
At Assistant Manager Yeo’s words, Assistant Manager Cheon mumbled a response and fled the area. He should be glad there aren’t many people in the office since it’s lunch break, Won Chae-hee thought, clicking her tongue inwardly.
…Wait.
Maybe Assistant Manager Yeo spoke so bluntly precisely because there weren’t many people around.
When Won Chae-hee looked up, her eyes met Assistant Manager Yeo’s, who gave her a wide grin.
“Did I butt in unnecessarily? Sorry if I made things awkward.”
“Not at all. Thanks to you, I avoided an unpleasant situation.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Assistant Manager Yeo pulled over Assistant Manager Cheon’s chair and sat down.
“He does that often, doesn’t he?”
“Occasionally.”
“Tell me if he says anything out of line again. You’re just keeping quiet because it’s awkward to bring things like this up to the Department Head, right?”
It was true. Even though it was just a hobby, liking idols often acted as a negative factor just by itself.
Assistant Manager Cheon is picking a fight over Assistant Manager Won liking idols? Does Assistant Manager Won still like idols at her age? It was a relief if the conversation didn't devolve into that. In this regard, Won Chae-hee had moved past resignation and was almost transcendental.
“Talk to me about those ambiguous things. Okay?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Won Chae-hee replied with a smile. It wasn’t the fake smile one is forced to wear in professional life.
“Oh, by the way. Did the idols you like recently film a cosmetics commercial?”
“Yes. It’s Indenia… how did you know?”
“I saw a huge poster on my way home. I thought they looked familiar.”
Assistant Manager Yeo clapped her hands as if delighted.
“Recommend a song by the group you like. I’m curious what kind of music you enjoy.”
“Sure, I’ll send you a message.”
At Won Chae-hee’s answer, Assistant Manager Yeo looked satisfied, tidied up Assistant Manager Cheon’s chair, and went back to her desk.
What song would be best to recommend to a Muggle… Won Chae-hee’s brain, which had been getting drowsy after lunch, began to whir with energy.