The Unsold Idol Returns to Music Shows (1)
After that, I spent nothing but busy days.
I handled the promotions while the kids practiced.
We ran the remaining week with our eyes fixed solely on the music show, and at last, the day arrived.
Saturday, around 3:40 a.m.
2827*
I skillfully punched in the door lock code.
The meaning behind the number wasn’t anything grand. It was simply Sepia’s debut date—2019.08.08—added together.
Simple as it was, it had never been cracked once in four years.
Beep-beep.
The lock disengaged with a soft chime and the door swung open.
An old villa somewhere in Seoul.
It wasn’t my house. It wasn’t even my own studio apartment.
Judging by the hour alone, it might have looked like I was finally heading home after working late or finishing a company dinner—but it was the opposite.
I was dressed neatly in casual semi-formal clothes, mind completely clear.
I was clocking in for work.
“…….”
The place was the dormitory.
The shared apartment where Sepia lived together.
Click.
First I flipped on the living room lights.
“These little brats….”
Cookie crumbs and a half-eaten bag of snacks sat abandoned on the sofa.
Obviously Se-a and Sarang’s handiwork.
I supposed I should count myself lucky there weren’t empty soju bottles rolling around.
I quietly gathered up the snacks without making a sound and checked the clock.
3:44 a.m.
Wake them at four.
That was the plan I settled on while tidying the living room.
Music show day was nothing short of war for a girl group.
From the greeting on the way into the broadcasting station all the way to the waiting room, they had to be inside by 7:30 at the latest.
Sepia was an unpopular group—showing up late and getting on anyone’s bad side was out of the question.
So why not just wake up right before departure? It wasn’t that simple. The commute itself was a mini fan meeting where fans and reporters alike swarmed with cameras.
Veteran singers or popular groups could throw on sunglasses and a hat and stroll in coolly, but Sepia needed to make a solid impression starting from the very first step of the commute.
Every kind of fan plus daily newspaper reporters gathered to snap photos; even one good shot here meant massive promotional value, so skipping it was impossible.
That meant they had to finish makeup at the shop first and arrive already camera-ready.
With four members, makeup took about an hour and a half.
Today’s shop reservation was 5 a.m. sharp.
Naturally, not even a single minute late was allowed. The makeup artists were coming in at five in the morning because of us, after all.
At least we only had four members—things were relatively manageable. The eleven-member group that debuted not long ago….
Just imagining it was terrifying.
They were probably nodding off right now while getting their makeup done.
If you thought about it calmly, the labor intensity was absurd, yet the industry treated it as completely normal.
Even after working that hard to show up, unpopular groups with no fans waiting still couldn’t get a single decent photo taken—except by the reporters—and walked into the waiting room without ever hearing their names called once.
Sepia had grown somewhat used to that side of things… but this was a hard-won appearance opportunity after months. I didn’t want the commute itself to start that way.
So for the entire past week I had used the group chat and every SNS platform to announce the music show schedule, how to join the live voting, how to participate in the commute greeting—every scrap of information—and kept pushing the fans to show up.
Even then, maybe one out of a hundred would actually come.
I considered posting another commute encouragement message in the group chat, but dropping it at 3:50 a.m. felt a bit much.
I’d post one before six instead.
Clack.
“……Mmm. You’re already here? Hogu oppa.”
A voice still thick with sleep floated out as the door opened.
The nameplate hanging on the door swayed.
“You’re already up…. No. You pulled an all-nighter, didn’t you?”
“…Hmm~. How’d you know?”
“Because your dark circles are packed full. Makeup’s not even going to cover that.”
“Haaaawn….”
Sarang kept yawning, half-listening to me.
She trudged over and wrapped her arms tightly around me.
“Hehe. Big pillow.”
“Don’t get drool on me.”
She rubbed her face against my clothes, completely ignoring the warning.
…This was the outfit I’d just had cleaned at the laundry yesterday. It was already going to be a mess.
“Hehe. Pillows are supposed to get lots of drool~. Just wash it properly.”
“I’ve never once seen you run the washing machine.”
The laundry duty in this dorm belonged, needless to say, to Harin.
Sarang and Se-a were in charge of cleaning… but looking at the state of the living room, we’d clearly assigned the roles wrong.
“Zzz~.”
“She really thinks I’m a pillow. I told you not to sleep. We have to get ready now.”
“Five more minutes~.”
“Then why stay up all night instead of just sleeping properly? I sent you guys to bed early yesterday.”
“If I sleep and wake up my face gets puffy~. If I get photographed all swollen in the morning, even the fans who came will run away.”
When she put it like that, I had nothing to say.
I checked my phone clock.
3:53 a.m.
“Exactly five minutes.”
“Mm~.”
She vigorously nuzzled her face into my chest.
Her arms locked around my waist with zero intention of letting go.
Full-body contact.
“…….”
To be honest, I could feel her chest pressing against me.
Sarang wasn’t on Harin or Eunchae’s level, but she still had a decent size of her own….
To be even more honest, I was getting hard.
The past few days had been so relentlessly busy I hadn’t even had time to take care of myself, which only made it worse.
Of course, Sarang never noticed that my cock had stiffened.
“Mmm~. Pillow. So soft.”
Sarang was especially frequent with this kind of skinship.
How to put it… she was like a puppy.
It wasn’t just with me—she did the same with the other members.
She sought contact so often that I’d refused her once; she’d actually started crying, which left me completely flustered.
After that I just accepted it. The one line I still kept was that when she did this, I only stood there and took it. I never initiated the hugging myself.
Still, she’d never squeezed this hard before….
“Hmm~. You smell nice. You changed your cologne?”
I’d run out of the old one, so I switched.
Even the way she picked up scents was dog-like.
“Hogu oppa.”
“Yeah.”
“Today’s sandwich. Egg mayo. No pickles or olives.”
“Tell me again when I ask later. And you might not even eat a sandwich.”
“Mm~. That’s what I decided. I’ll check later if you remembered.”
Completely on her own terms.
…Egg mayo, no pickles or olives.
Egg mayo, no pickles or olives….
“How many minutes left?”
“Two.”
“Hnnn~.”
“Weren’t you supposed to sleep for five minutes? Why do you keep talking?”
“I never said I was sleeping~.”
“Ugh….”
Once she started bantering, there was no winning.
While that went on I glanced around at the other rooms.
Every door had a nameplate attached.
Simple. Nothing else stuck on it.
Another line I kept was never entering the kids’ rooms.
I’d peeked through open doors a few times, though. Harin’s room was a simple, neat model-student room. Everything organized, nothing ever lying on the floor.
It perfectly reflected her meticulous, diligent personality.
On the other hand…
The door was open, so I could see inside.
Everything pink. Stuffed animals everywhere. It felt like a little kid’s room transplanted here.
Most of the plushies were gifts from fans… and they occupied more than half the bed.
That room… I really didn’t want to go in.
It was a pigsty.
At first I’d thought about cleaning it for them… until I saw panties rolling around on the floor and gave up.
“Mmm~.”
“Ah. Drool. For real.”
“Ehehehe~.”
There was nothing I could even do about it…….
Clack.
“……What are you doing?”
It wasn’t Sarang’s voice.
I turned my head toward the sound.
The nameplate was still swaying as if the door had just closed.
“…What are you two doing?”
“I’m going to wash first~.”
Before she could even get scolded, Sarang darted into the bathroom.
That little traitor.
Suddenly only Harin and I were left in the living room.
She still hadn’t fully rubbed the sleep from her eyes, yet she scanned me sharply from head to toe.
“Manager.”
“Uh… yeah.”
“…You came early.”
Why did you come early and do that with Sarang?
…was how it sounded.
“…Because it’s an important day.”
“Right. It is an important day.”
The important day I secured for us.
…was how it sounded.
Cold sweat broke out.
“…….”
Harin strode right up beside me and stared straight at my face.
I was too scared to meet her eyes and slightly turned my head away.
“…Manager.”
“Uh… yeah?”
“…….”
Harin glanced once toward the bathroom Sarang had entered, then wordlessly slid one hand toward my back.
Sliiiide.
It moved so smoothly it gave me goosebumps.
“…Wh-why… are you…?”
“…Me too….”
Her other hand brushed past my stomach and side.
Sliide.
What was she trying to do.
Terrifying.
Harin’s sharp eyes only made it worse.
“…Manager.”
Her face drew closer.
She’d just woken up, yet she was still beautiful. But she was scary.
Was she about to bite me? Like a zombie.
Bang.
“Unnie~. I’m using your shampoo~.”
“Hieuk!”
Clack.
The bathroom door cracked open just long enough for the voice to come through, then shut again.
It wasn’t a request for permission—it was a notification.
“…Ah. Yeah….”
Only long after the door closed did Harin’s permission finally drop.
In that brief moment she had already put three full steps of distance between us.
Her hand clenched into a tight fist.
Well, her little sister was freely using her shampoo—she had every right to be annoyed.
“…Should I wake the others? Time’s almost up.”
It was already 4:02 a.m.
There was a lot to do before five.
“…Yes.”
Harin’s shoulders slumped as she headed toward the room Eunchae and Se-a shared.
Today was going to be exhausting… she couldn’t already look like that.
I should buy them something tasty for breakfast. Strawberry milk too. That would perk her up.
I thought I felt Harin glance back at me once more as she stood in front of Eunchae and Se-a’s door, but I was busy answering the makeup shop artist’s text on my phone.
Today was going to be a very busy day.