Star Manager (7)
"W&U Public Relations."
The woman who picked up still wore the holiday on her face.
"Hello, I'm calling about an IBC booking. I was hoping to get a contact for Neptune's manager."
"Yes. One moment."
"Manager Jung Sunwoo, please — the one who was on the Lunar New Year special. It's a parenting variety show."
She read off Jung Sunwoo's number, hung up, and let out a breath.
"An awful lot of people looking for Sunwoo."
"Fresh face, for once. And the public likes him. These things boil over and then go cold in a snap, so everyone's trying to suck the juice out before it dies."
The man at the next desk shrugged. She went on.
"Anyway, Neptune's profile went up because of it. The company ought to give Sunwoo a bonus, at least."
"He might even get promoted. If his personal schedule keeps growing we'll be short-handed — Chief Kim Hyunjo was saying he'll have to hire more managers under him."
She had been tapping her chin with the end of a pen. Now she turned. Beyond the partition, Team Leader Park was drinking hot coffee and staring at her monitor.
"Team Leader, Sunwoo isn't thinking of doing more variety, is he?"
"Doesn't seem like it. He wouldn't have done this one either, if it weren't for Neptune."
"That's a shame."
She had just clicked her tongue when a middle-aged man came into the PR office — scarf and coat layered until he was round as a nesting doll, a balding head the winter made look even colder. The division head.
He waved off the staff's greetings and went straight to Team Leader Park.
"Park, did you hear? The IBC Wednesday-Thursday drama, Timeslip. The writer and the director were having an affair, the wife showed up on set, and it was a complete mess?"
"Of course I heard. They've got a new writer slapped on in a hurry, and they're shooting with the B-team director."
"And the one who brought us the tip that those two had something going was our Bundle of Fortune, right? Where did he even hear that?"
The woman, listening in, jabbed the man beside her with an elbow.
"Cat Guardian Spirit, Mermaid Ashore, Timeslip — everything Sunwoo told us at the start came true. This would be one hell of a story. If he went on variety and spilled it... ah, nobody would believe him anyway."
The division head flicked a glance at her.
"Right, that reminds me. I hear the Bundle of Fortune's variety appearance got a good response too?"
"You didn't watch? Critics and reporters named him one of the biggest winners of the Lunar New Year variety specials."
"Aigoo, that much? He's not exactly the funny type, is he?"
"He's not. But someone who looks miles away from variety locking in a character like that — the gap is what makes it funny."
She lifted a hand, tentative.
"Want me to show you? I saved a few of the clips going around."
In no time the division head, the male staffer, and Team Leader Park were all crowded behind her monitor. She played them through in order — the lie detector, the bits of Neptune and Jung Sunwoo imitating each other — and the division head broke into a grin.
She clicked the last clip.
"This one's my favorite. I watched it live and shot water out of my nose right here."
It was a segment dragging a manager's most humiliating moment into the light. Lim Seoyoung, shouting that they might actually lose. Jung Sunwoo, made even colder than usual by broadcast makeup, trying to talk her down — insisting he'd buy the prize beef himself, hanwoo or not.
The hosts egged her on, and Lim Seoyoung's mouth opened.
"This was a while ago. Everyone was exhausted, so we were all napping in the car at dawn. I woke up alone, and suddenly from the front seat Sunwoo-oppa goes, 'What do we do if aliens invade?'"
"Aliens?"
The hosts and the cast stared, utterly lost. Sunwoo himself wore nearly the same look, as if he had no idea any of this had happened.
"So I asked, 'Why aliens, all of a sudden?' and oppa goes, dead serious, 'Then do I have to save the Earth? Is that what this is?' Turns out he was sleep-talking."
Giggles burst across the studio. The camera cut back to a single shot of Jung Sunwoo. He didn't look especially flustered, but once they pushed into close-up, his eyes were unsteady.
"I said, 'Oppa, how would you even save the Earth?' and he goes, 'That's a secret.' Then, 'Hmm. Absolutely no spandex suits.'"
The division head howled.
The festival was at a full boil.
The crowd packed into the county stadium roared. Among the voices chanting Neptune's name, and the members' names, quite a few weren't young. Star Manager's doing, most likely. They'd lifted their profile across a much wider spread of ages.
Neptune had one song left. A glance at my watch put us right about where I'd expected. I was checking the route for pulling the van out when an event-agency staffer I knew came over and struck up a conversation.
"Manager, how's Neptune's schedule these days? Pretty packed, right?"
Moments like this were when it landed that Neptune had actually started to rise.
When the same mouth that used to toss out a flat hey, manager produced Manager. When the person who once asked — since girl groups were handy for pumping up a venue, and they'd book an unknown anyway — whether there wasn't something a little more revealing, now tested the air with you must be busy these days and watched my face.
"Compared to a little while ago, yeah. A lot busier."
"Man, they really shot up. A few months back, tell an organizer you'd booked Neptune and they'd ask who that was. Now you say Neptune and they're happy about it."
Smiling like we were old friends, he eased into the real point.
"Manager, Neptune's got a new song coming soon, right?"
"They're in the middle of recording."
"Then I'd better lock dates in early. If the new song hits, there's no way we book them at the current rate. Even if the fee goes up, go easy on us with the adjustment."
"We'll see when we get there. Ah — one second."
My phone rang mid-sentence.
"Yes, this is Jung Sunwoo."
"Hello, I'm calling about a broadcast booking..."
The writer rattled it off like a rap. The broadcast-events staffer must have caught the spill of it; he clicked his tongue and drifted off.
I pulled out my notebook and scrawled the title, the shoot dates, the concept, the planned air date. The page in front was already dense with booking notes, and a pleased smile caught at my mouth all on its own.
It caught. Then it dropped right back down.
"So we were hoping you might appear with the members."
"Me too? Is that a requirement?"
"We reached out because after Star Manager, the team fits our concept so well. And of course we'd prepare a separate appearance fee for you, Manager..."
I heard her out.
"Let me check the schedule and call you back."
I hung up and clicked my tongue out of habit.
What number was this. For a single broadcast, the aftershock was ridiculous.
How long until people stopped jabbing a finger at me with oh, that — that guy, or tossing out nonsense like so managing is the day job, and saving the Earth is the side hustle?
Damn it. That goddamn sleep-talk.
It must have been not long after the precognition showed up, back when I was still turning over why a power like this had landed on me. I had, once, worried that aliens might invade and someone would come find me spouting garbage like our powers exist to protect the Earth! Come save it with us!
I had not expected to sleep-talk about it.
If it hadn't been for Lim Seoyoung, I would have gone my whole life never knowing.
I shook my head and looked toward the traitor. Two girls who looked about middle-school age were hovering awkwardly in front of him.
"What? What's going on?"
The traitor asked it with that signature smile. The bolder of the two opened and closed her mouth, then looked my way. The moment our eyes met, she dragged her friend over in a rush.
"We'll tell him!"
The traitor frowned.
I put on the best smile I could manage and looked down at them. They'd improved my mood, if only a little. A reasonable request, I figured, I ought to grant.
"Could we maybe get the Neptune unnies' autographs later? Just one each?"
"Hang on. I'll get them once they're in the car."
"Thank you!"
The quieter-looking one folded into a deep bow.
The other, mouth twitching like it itched, blurted it out.
"When are you going to go save the Earth?"
"What?"
"But even I can tell the spandex suit isn't it. In hero movies, even if the body's amazing, it's still funny. Without muscle it'd be a full assault on the eyes!"
And she looked me up and down.
Unbelievable. Was I being sexually harassed by a middle schooler?
The quiet one grabbed her friend's arm and whispered.
"Hey, stop. I think he's mad."
"No. I saw on the show that's just his default face. Right? You're not mad right now, are you?"
"I'm mad."
"I'm sorry!"
Her upper body snapped shut like a flip phone. I couldn't see my own face, but it couldn't have been pleasant — not with the quiet one backing away in little steps, as if she'd just spotted a violent criminal.
After the girls fled, the traitor spoke up.
"Sunwoo, since it's come to this, why not do more TV?"
"And what kind of nonsense is that."
"The response is this good. It's a waste. Switch tracks entirely and you might do even better over there. Seems like it suits you, too."
Since the last incident, the way the traitor treated me had changed. In front of me, the thickness of that act got a little thinner.
I answered while thinking I'd like to smack that smiling cheek with a chicken skewer.
"You'd make a killing in multi-level marketing. Want to try that?"
I'd been about to call him a con man, and swallowed it.
When I added, like a joke, that it seemed to suit him too, the traitor's expression went strange. That mouth didn't open again until the Neptune kids came down off the stage.
Lee Songha came over, breathing hard. Pale breath spread in the air.
"I think today's the coldest."
"I left the heater on. Get in and thaw out."
"You should wait in the car too, oppa. It's cold."
I herded them into the van — frozen solid, like they'd been dunked in ice water and yanked back out. At the edge of the group, Lim Seoyoung clutched her face in both hands and stamped her feet.
"Aaah, oppa! The cold wind pours straight through the stage outfit! I'm not kidding! I'm going to freeze to death!"
"If you die, you can be buried with me. I'm already a corpse."
"D-did someone... again..."
I nodded, and Lim Seoyoung's face crumpled. If she'd known it would go this far, she swore, she would have sewn her own mouth shut before she ever told that story.
I loaded her into the van — still smacking her own lips — and looked around. The girls from earlier were watching from a distance, eyes desperate. I beckoned, and they came at a sprint.
I left the delighted kids with their autographs and pulled out of the festival grounds.
But people were crowding in for a closer look at Neptune. That hadn't happened before. Lim Seoyoung rolled the window down at once and waved. Cheers and the clatter of cameras burst out around us.
So much, really, was changing.
The set of The Little Mermaid Who Came Ashore.
The place was as grim as a funeral hall. Not just the cast — even the crew's faces held no ease, and not a trace of a smile.
Everyone kept shooting without a break, as if they wanted to finish the drama sunk in the mud and pull their feet free as fast as they could.
In the dressing room, Son Chae-young lit into Chief Jo.
"When is the CEO even coming back?!"
"T-tomorrow. I told you, tomorrow."
Chief Jo licked his lips and pressed on.
"Chae-young, don't go making another scene at the CEO. Just pretend you don't know. This was all settled at his level."
"Without even telling me?! It's about Teacher — you should have at least told me!"
"You've got nothing to worry about. Team Two's leader said Professor Shim Kyung-taek is in no position to ever let your name out of his mouth. Just act like you don't know—"
Glaring at him as he tried to soothe her, Son Chae-young dropped her eyes. The phone in her hand was vibrating. She sent Chief Jo out of the dressing room and answered.
"Professor, once the CEO is back, I'll contain it as far as I can—"
"Contain?! You think this is something that can be contained?!"
On the other end, Professor Shim Kyung-taek shouted, voice pitched to the ceiling. It was a different man from the one who had been frantic, begging her to do something — anything. While she paused, he raised his voice again.
"Is CEO Baek Han-sung even abroad?! You're just stringing me along with talk of containing it so you can dump the whole thing on me and slip out, aren't you! Do you have any idea what I look like right now? My name didn't make the articles, but do you know how many calls I've gotten asking if that was me! I'm too ashamed to show my face anywhere!"
Son Chae-young sat down in the dressing-room chair without answering.
"The Lee Songha business — I did all of that for you, and you think I'm going to take the fall alone?! If I open my mouth, you're finished too! If you don't want your image shoved into a gutter, you go to that bastard CEO Baek Han-sung yourself, get every article taken down, and lock down the press—!"
Son Chae-young smiled, perfectly at ease.
"Don't threaten me, Professor."
"Wh-what?!"
"I said don't threaten me. And that wasn't something you did for me. It was a deal."
"You—!"
"I don't know what you heard from CEO Baek, but even if you know, I know more. Me? I can just disclose my medical history and hold a press conference. But you, Professor — if I open my mouth, can you actually handle all of it?"
Flustered, Professor Shim Kyung-taek stammered. Son Chae-young hung up.
And she hurled the phone at the floor.