Life Doesn't Go as Planned
I woke up to the sound of morning birdsong. My tousled silver hair was covering my eyes.
This damn silver hair... I still can't get used to it. Every time I woke up, it startled me once. I brushed the silver strands away from my eyes and got out of bed. Then, just like any other day, I sat down at my computer and continued my work. That was the entire daily routine of a useless illustrator holed up in her room. I didn't go outside, I didn't have anyone to really talk to, and even if I wanted to play games, I'd think it was better spent working—a thought that had persisted for years.
But it's about time for them to contact me, right? In the middle of working, I glanced at the calendar. It had been a week since I got final acceptance as a 11th gen trainee. Plenty of time for them to reach out. Well, it wasn't that urgent anyway. I knew KR Maerchen Live was working hard to build the next-gen Muil(?) alongside my debut. It almost made me feel sorry for them. I could practically see lively Tsupi and Eunhye dying on their feet.
They'll contact me if I wait. Reaching out first from my side wouldn't change their situation anyway. I just needed to stick to my main job until Maerchen called me.
Tsupi's frantic message left me baffled, so I checked my inbox. Sure enough, just as she said, there was an email from Maerchen.
What was this? I got the congratulations part, but there was way too much unnecessary chit-chat. And with Tsupi, we just... got close naturally. Anyway, there were a few key points in the email from KR Maerchen. First, about my debut. Pre-debut meetings were essential—trainee period, recording the debut song, artwork and assets for the avatar. Breaking it down, it'd take at least a month.
Next, the assistant matter. That required me visiting the headquarters in person. Truth be told, I wasn't expecting much. There was only one Muil in this world, and even if someone matched my skill, if they didn't fit my style, it'd be a disaster. I'd been working with KR Maerchen for nearly five years. Muil's style was already set in stone—changing it now was too risky. That's why I opted for a support assistant.
Anyway, I'd have to check her out myself. Contracts could wait. There was about a month until debut—plenty of time.
She said to check the next email, right?
The next one was straightforward: meeting time, place, and what topics we'd cover.
I confirmed it and texted Tsupi.
The texts veered off suddenly while we were chatting. Tsupi as my manager? Out of nowhere?
I leaned back in my chair at Tsupi's question. Tsupi as my manager. Actually, that was good news for me. She'd handle all my behind-the-scenes stuff, right? A manager was essential for me going forward. I'd barely have enough time with just one body—having a manager with me would be crucial. I asked a few questions.