Office Revenge and Fan Frenzy
“Shoot's over! Great job, everyone~”
The office was a total wreck. At Marketing Manager Jeong Yu-young's words, a staffer who'd been fiddling with the coffee machine outside came in to start cleaning up. Pushed to one corner of the office, the four bandmates were surrounded by an inexplicable tension. It was the kind of atmosphere where everyone was just waiting for someone to say something—waiting for one word to spark a full-blown war...
“Hey.”
Breaking the taut silence was Ha Suyeon, her voice chillingly cold—nothing like before. The three guilty parties stiffly craned their necks to look at her, joints creaking. Her face was even more expressionless than usual, devoid of emotion... the highlight in her eyes completely gone, half-consumed by madness as she stared them down.
“N-no, uh, that's not what I meant~ Right, Yeon-su?”
Even though Suyeon had only said “hey,” Choi Iseo must've felt a chill down her spine, because she immediately launched into frantic excuses.
“What?”
Suyeon's tone dripped with disbelief.
“W-well, y'know, we think we went a bit too far too. Right? But, uh...”
“W-we...?”
Cutting off Iseo's desperate scrambling was the girl with light brown hair sitting quietly beside her, Jeong Hyeona.
“It's not... 'we'... is it...? It's just... Somaetnim... who did that... right...?”
“What?!”
Iseo stared daggers at Hyeona, her eyes burning with enough intensity to pierce steel if it had any energy behind it. But Hyeona refused to meet her gaze. Trembling with betrayal, Iseo turned to Yoo Seoha, acting like she was some savior. Seoha just smirked and jerked her chin toward Suyeon—deal with your own mess.
“No way! It's not just me! Everyone else did it too! See? Even those other kids called us delinquents and old hags!”
“We were just messing around. It's TV.”
“Exactly! I was messing around for the show too! And anyway, you guys attacked each other! Look at this, this one came to me. [Fashion Illiterate], [Wasting Earth's resources with your trashy style]! And [Weird person I met on Twitter who tries too hard with concepts]—what's this?! Binnie wrote this, right?!”
“Uh... no...”
“No my ass! Out of everyone here, you're the only one I met on Twitter!”
Desperate to deflect Suyeon's impending wrath, Iseo flailed dramatically, pleading her case.
“C'mon, let's not do this. We're bandmates heading to the top together—internal drama like this looks bad, y'know?”
Like some pitiful heroine from a teen comic, Iseo clutched her chest and pleaded passionately.
“Suyeon, you always say it yourself: a band sticks together. A band becomes one. Getting all hurt over some silly self-content like this? That's not cool, right?”
“...Those were words hurtful enough... that only Somaetnim... would say... weren't they...?”
“Shut it!”
Iseo rolled up a piece of paper from the table and whacked Hyeona square on the crown of her head. Thwack! Hyeona yelped “Eek!” and turtle-shelled her neck.
“Anyway, Suyeon. It's time for us to unite. If we keep retaliating over petty stuff like this, we won't survive the ongoing self-content!”
“Hoo...”
Iseo's fiery speech wrapped up. Suyeon took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. The kids felt the office's tension melt away in an instant. She forgave us even after we crossed that line.
“Sorry. Won't happen again.”
“Yeah...”
Suyeon replied to Iseo's apology, stepping forward and offering her hand. Iseo beamed, grabbing it for a handshake. They gripped tight for one second. Then Iseo tried to let go—but her hand stayed trapped.
“Huh??”
“Thought I'd say that?”
Suyeon squeezed harder, delivering her verdict. And the office erupted with “Gyaaaaah!”—a high-decibel scream echoing everywhere. It felt like they were in for quite the ordeal.
“Ugh, that test was hell.”
Ayoon trudged back to her studio apartment, soul utterly drained. Too wiped to even boot up her computer, she showered sloppily, flopped onto the bed, and grabbed her phone.
Everything sucks right now. I need some soul food...
But her beloved band, Group Sound, showed no signs of posting new content. Devastated, she wailed and opened Twitter.
The vibe was worlds away from what she'd expected. The timeline, once filled with daily pleas of [Please post something!!], had dwindled—but now it was packed like Tsukiji Market on New Year's, with no trace of the old quiet. Regulars were ecstatic, like they'd hit the lottery.
Ayoon was dumbfounded. What the heck?
Scanning slowly, every post shared one common YouTube link.
“Self-con?!?!?!”
How long had it been since their last official YouTube vid? The radio appearance had given a quick fix, but it wasn't as nourishing as proper YouTube content. Ayoon craved something more substantial for her fanning. And now it had happened. Not just any fan service, but a massive self-con bomb!
A grand title: #EP000. New Makeover & Start.
There was a 3-hour thumbnail of Iseo with her bass under [I Won't Bully My Friends], but she ignored that for now, hitting play with bated breath.
And unconsciously, she muttered:
“Holy crap.”
Cute graphics introduced the remodeled office—a small building near Hongdae turned into a hub selling artist merch and coffee. Then more: talent recruitment, future plans, full album teases, and more. Proof that tons of content awaited.
What made her heart pound even harder came after the label update.
“Not mad.”
“Looks mad tho?”
“...I said I'm not mad...”
“Gyyyaaaaah!”
Ayoon screamed freely—no one to judge. Checking Twitter mid-yell, she saw others in the same state: people howling “Kraaaah!” every few minutes, overjoyed.
The inserted edits midway through looked polished, not high-budget but clearly done by pros.
“Is to show fans who love our kids what kind of girls they are. What state the band's in.”
Ayoon clutched her heart, ranting in a reply about how much she loved it.
“Only Suyeon-unnie...?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
What made it hilarious was the unexpected part. The band's leader, charismatic guitarist, ex-delinquent with killer looks. Back in school, Ayoon wouldn't have dared talk to her—would've just yelped “Sorry!” if approached. So she was hyped. Maybe Suyeon gets owned a bit?
But nah, she didn't think so. Ayoon hadn't dwelled on it.
Girls like that usually dominate their friends...
But Suyeon's on-screen vibe was the total opposite.
Her bandmates mercilessly teased, and she bristled visibly.
“Totally noooormal high schooool giiiirl~ Why thaaat treaaatmeeeent~~”
Iseo was the worst—relentless, no mercy.
Do that and she'd seriously get mad... A DM from her Han Seung High 1st-year fanning buddy. Ayoon got it, though. Even with edits, who could hate Suyeon after this self-con? Pure bliss.
“And moving to self-content... there's an issue.”
A few days after upload, in the full album production meeting. Go Kyung-min's words made Myeongjeon scratch his head. Yeah, it was problematic—they'd treated him like that. But Kyung-min seemed to mean something else.
“What kind?”
“Check this data first.”
Projector beamed onto the meeting room wall. Myeongjeon instinctively narrowed his eyes, leaning back. Charts and graphs swam into view, but he had no clue how to read them.
“These metrics show total views rising steadily... but barely any new commenters. Few fresh inflows.”
Kyung-min flipped slides: complex data, interpretations. Myeongjeon got about half, zoned on the rest.
“...So, early trends for this self-con: huge views and buzz from our fanbase. Heavy repeat watches internally, great community response. But...”
Another slide crammed with numbers. Kyung-min explained.
“Low new user inflow's the problem. They're not bouncing right away—fanclub joins are up significantly post-upload. But inflows are just too low.”
“Hm...”
Myeongjeon crossed his arms. Made sense. Self-content was for insiders. Obvious it'd loop internally. Problem was their “internal fanbase” was ridiculously small.
Thought it'd pull some outsiders, but nope.
“We can set the table, but can't force-feed strangers.”
Seoha spoke up; Kyung-min nodded. Myeongjeon agreed. If they won't eat what's served, oh well.
“That's why I think... we need content to draw people in. Now.”
“Now?”
“Yes. Self-con production's ramping up. Lock in album/band design concepts, drop photoshoots... that'd boost inflows. Like these.”
Myeongjeon leaned in, squinting at Kyung-min's materials. Normal band fits, idol outfits—then one jarringly off: sickly pink with frilly overload.
“What the hell? Whoever suggested this is in deep shit. How're we wearing that?!”
Myeongjeon shot up, pointing at the frilly skirt. Over his dead body. Better call him grandpa and stick to face-only Confucian robes than that abomination...