Karma (1)
There's a saying that even a whale will dance for praise. My mentor taught me that back when I was just starting out in the business.
Before her debut, there was this one day when Lee Ji-yeon stubbornly refused to practice her singing. With her debut stage right around the corner, it threw me for a loop—especially since she'd been so diligent up to that point. We were only nineteen at the time. We hadn't gone through the usual college entrance grind like other kids, but we'd spent the whole year grinding desperately toward debut every single day. So I figured even she deserved a little rebellion now and then. Plenty of excuses to feed the school and the company if we needed them.
Lee Ji-yeon wasn't the outgoing type. We usually preferred hanging out at home, but that day, she suggested going out. She wanted to hit up the nearby shopping district, and I was all for it. Once she debuted and got famous, it'd be tough to just casually hang out like that anymore.
For some reason, she dolled herself up extra nice that day. She looked stunning, honestly. We hit a cute café, caught a movie, scarfed down some delicious food. The stipend from the company meant money wasn't an issue. It was the perfect outing.
For dinner, she invited me back to her place, saying she'd cook. And she'd even scored some booze from somewhere. I'd had a beer or two with my parents before, but sneaking drinks? First time. Living alone, she was surprisingly good in the kitchen. The food hit just right, and with that thrilling sense of wrongdoing from drinking underage, we got properly wasted.
That was the day the Lee Ji-yeon collection began to take shape. Looking back, I wonder if I didn't fall right into her perfect trap.
"...Huh?"
'...Um, I kinda want to take today off...'
A strange sense of déjà vu washed over me. Hyeon Ha-yeon, who was always so bright and hardworking, suddenly wanted a day off. What wind blew in to change her mind? Sure, skipping one day wouldn't tank her skills. But if there was some shift in her mindset, that could be a big problem. Managing an idol's mental state is a key part of a manager's job.
Just recently, Baek Ga-eun's debut had been locked in. With her killer acting chops, she was already lining up auditions left and right, plus a music video gig for a CG Entertainment artist. That snow-white hair, her effortlessly cute vibe that drew people in, and being the youngest from Baekil Group? Massive backing was guaranteed. Everyone figured whatever she touched would explode in popularity.
Hyeon Ha-yeon was different. She'd started training a few months earlier, but she didn't have that powerhouse backing or flashy looks to launch from the same starting line. That's just how the industry works.
Truth be told, Hyeon Ha-yeon was a hot prospect at CG Entertainment too. Despite her sharp, cat-like eyes, her bubbly, friendly personality oozed charm. The kind of idol who'd make fans fall head over heels at first sight. With all the personality scandals plaguing celebs these days, she'd be the type to rack up heartwarming stories, not creepy rumors.
And her singing? Top-notch. Word was, even our notoriously picky CEO was personally scouting songs for her—a feat that shocked other agencies. Only one other artist in company history had gotten that treatment.
I had high hopes for her too, so I felt a real attachment. "Uh... is something wrong?"
'Oh, no! Nothing like that...'
I probed gently, but she insisted it was just a bad day physically.
"...Got it. See you soon, then."
'...Pardon?'
I hung up on her surprised voice and wrapped up my work fast. Might be a late night, so better clear the deck now.
"C-come on in..."
"Pardon the intrusion."
Hyeon Ha-yeon opened the door. Was her face a bit flushed, or was that my imagination?
"Family out...?"
"Yeah, all gone..."
I'd been to her place plenty, but alone with just her? First time.
"All set?"
"Sit tight a sec."
We'd planned a day out in Seoul. Once she debuted, casual outings like this might vanish, so I mapped a touristy tour. She was game.
"R-ready!"
...How long did I wait? She emerged into the living room, dressed way differently from her usual comfy training gear. The pants girl had gone with a white skirt and sky-blue shirt.
"L-look okay?"
She fidgeted shyly. I wanted her confident. "You look gorgeous."
"Ah... th-thanks..."
Her ears went red—praise landed, but barely. She always blushed during practice compliments, so I'd ramped up the directness.
"Y-you look cool too... Manager-nim..."
Her tiny, ant-like whisper was adorable. She met my eyes, then ducked her head. I stuck to light suits for work, so she'd barely seen my casuals. Today, crisp shirt and slacks for her tour.
"...Thanks. Shall we?"
"Y-yeah..."
"Try this!"
"N-no, it's f—" Nomf.
Hyeon Ha-yeon grinned mischievously and shoved a seaweed rice roll in my mouth. I figured it'd be pricey and meh, but crunchy and tasty.
"Good, right?"
Her giggling drew stares from guys at nearby tables, paired up with their dates. Quick ones reined in their boyfriends.
"...Yeah, pretty good."
"Fish cake too?"
The voracious girl demolished kimbap, tteokbokki, and fried stuff, now eyeing fish cakes for dessert. Watching her devour so happily, I set my chopsticks down.
"Sure, one for me."
"Yay! Grandma, two fish cakes please!"
She beamed, cutely flashing two fingers. The sight ignited more male hearts around us.
"Babe, eat your tteokbokki."
"Uh, uh..."
One guy hung his head, bullying his poor rice cakes.
"Grandma, we only ordered two..."
"Your boyfriend's so handsome and tall—extras for you two. Share!"
"B-boyfriend...? Th-thank you!"
Grandma mistook us for a couple and hooked us up. Grateful.
"Soy sauce here—spray bottle's wild."
"Yeah, a spritz for me?"
I sprayed from the bottle she handed, bit in. Before this spot, she'd seemed tense about her first outing in ages, so I scouted an arcade to loosen her up. She'd rarely been to one. Didn't hate games, so I coaxed her in. Turns out, she had talent.
"Yah! Yah!"
"..."
In the fighter game, her basics landed perfectly, combos exploded flawlessly. My health bar was hurting.
"Whoa..."
"Hehe~"
Lost. She fiddled with controls pre-game, then outplayed me effortlessly. 2-1 her lead. Last game pending.
We'd had fun so far—long-overdue for me, joy for her. But then confidence bloomed, and she proposed bets. To cheer her up, I agreed. Won one nail-biter; lost the rest.
"Hmm... how 'bout this?"
Alternating picks—I had none left. Punching machine.
"This one?"
"Yeah! Three punches for a grand."
No complaints; I fed the coin. She yielded first go.
"You first, Manager-nim."
"...Me first okay?"
"Yep!"
She watched smiling. I squared up. Not make-or-break, but she challenged earnestly—meet it head-on.
Wham!
Topped the old #1: 937. Good start. Glanced at her—still cocky.
Clunk. Second, third done. Final: 987, new #1.
"Whoa! #1... my turn?"
Congrats from her, then coin in, smile steady.
Wham!
Low score, but she laughed it off, grinning at me.
"Round two!"
WHAM!!
Something wrong—sound was sharper. Movie-hero clean punch. Score told all.
Clunk. Pad rose. She'd held back before. Now: legs spread, centered, fist clenched, staring it down. Oh crap...
BOOM!
Thunderclap. Gamers whipped around. I barely caught the punch. Boom, then her hand on hip, eyeing score.
"Yay! #1! #1!"
She beamed innocently. Behind her, pad torn, stuffing poking out. Ripped tough leather—without full power? No heavy breath. If that real punch hit a person... funeral home shopping.
Leaving the arcade, she pondered her wish. "Manager-nim, drop the formal speech."
"..."
Me at 29, her at 20—not hard. But I used polite speech with everyone at work. Exception: casual slips with Lee Ji-yeon privately, formal publicly.
She looked uneasy post-win. No proper reward after her effort? Could breed resentment.
"...Fine. Casual when it's just us."
"Yay! Thanks!"
She preferred adding "yo" anyway. But one request: "Calling you Manager-nim outside... won't people think I'm weird?"
Fair. Wanted normal day for her—title screams "not civilian."
"...Call me oppa then."
"H-huh?"
Blushed hard. "Or 'hey you'?"
"N-no... O-oppa."
Her shy "oppa" after I suggested it? Heart skipped. ...Oppa hits different.
"Th-then, let's go?"
"Y-yeah!"
Awkward moves to next spot.
She'd used a flip phone till recently—clueless on modern tech. Barely for music; net newbie, learning now.
"Uh... I searched, but... where?"
Café she wanted, searched but no save—re-search time.
"History here. Tap this."
Peering at her phone for the café.
"Uh... this history?"
Seoul Date Spots
Seoul Dates
Seoul Couples
Seoul Duo Hangouts
Seoul Fling Guy...
"..."
"N-nooo! Not that!"
Snatched phone, hid screen. Denied without explaining.
"J-just... guy-girl duo stuff! What to do!"
Face crimson, snapping. "Got it, makes sense," I soothed.
Fiddled, found it, shoved address at me. Familiar café.
"Ah, that one... Cool, let's go."
"You know it?"
Lee Ji-yeon's fave—roomy, comfy post-debut spot. I tagged along often back then.
"Roughly. That way."
"..."
Hyeon Ha-yeon followed silently.