| Episode 13. Resignation Interview (1)
The basic choreography demonstration that followed also ended without any major issues. Thanks to having memorized all the choreography, the worst-case scenario of my body freezing up mid-way did not occur.
The instructors, having watched all the demonstrations including mine, applauded.
“Iwol, you’ve improved so much!”
“Thank you.”
“Your posture is really good too. That’s why your voice comes out well. It must have been very intimidating since it’s your first time, but you did really well.”
Objectively, the skill gap compared to the other members was probably severe, but perhaps because my overwhelmingly short practice period was taken into account, the evaluations were generally generous.
What was surprising was that the system appeared at this point.
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[SYSTEM] As the ‘Work’ adaptation period is completed, a correction effect based on performance is applied.
▷ Excellence in ‘Attendance Management’ is recognized, resulting in a high evaluation.
▷ A positive effect occurs for the monthly evaluation.
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…was the gist of it.
In other words, it meant the scores on my resume’s performance evaluation items also had an effect in reality.
My attendance management score was 18 out of 20.
If attendance management was the only activated item, I had to assume it would be difficult to expect a correction effect unless it was quite a high score.
‘I should be grateful if it gives me even one extra point, I suppose.’
At a time when even a single line of praise was precious, I couldn’t afford to be picky.
“We can probably go harder from the next class onward. Right?”
“I’ll… work hard.”
“What, you weren’t nervous at all until just now, but you’re getting nervous here?”
The instructors laughed out loud at my solemn answer.
I’m sorry, but I was already struggling enough just to keep up with this class. It would be a problem if you mistook me for joking.
But since I couldn’t groan in pain, I laughed hard along with the instructors. It was the very sorrow of the subordinate.
“I have one last question. What was the most decisive reason you chose this song?”
The vocal instructor asked. The answer to this was clear.
“I thought it was a song that could best show what I’ve learned.”
At my answer, the instructor smiled, seeming satisfied.
It was important that there was someone who recognized I had tried to use my head. It was an outcome beyond expectations.
* * *
With the individual feedback concluded, the evaluation ended.
Only after the staff members left and the practice room door closed could we finally catch our breath.
“Hyung!”
While I was putting away the folding chairs that had been laid out for the evaluation, someone jumped onto my back.
I steadied myself and looked in the mirror to see I Cheonghyeon hanging off me.
“Amazing. I’ve never seen someone get only praise like this during their first evaluation! Could it be that hyung is a genius?”
Genius is a word reserved for future versions of you—people with jade-white faces who effortlessly spit out rap and compose songs with perfect ease. It would have been nice if you used that outstanding ability to take better selfies, though.
You lot have no idea how much of a hassle it was to go to the post office to trade photocards in Manager Nam’s daughter’s stead. No idea even if you died and came back to life.
Worried he might fall, I grabbed his legs, and I Cheonghyeon clung to my back like a cicada.
“I’m relieved they seemed to appreciate the effort I put in. And I owe a lot to you guys for helping me.”
“And humble too! I really should learn from you.”
“If you keep spouting nonsense, get down.”
“If I don’t spout nonsense, can I stay on your back?”
“Do whatever you want.”
“Hyung is generous in strange places.”
Even so, I Cheonghyeon promptly got down from my back.
Gang Giyeon must have been proud of me for finishing the evaluation well, because he taught me a new move.
I too threw myself around diligently with the mindset of, ‘If only I could comfort you, who suffered mentally today, by sacrificing this body of mine……’
But unfortunately, Gang Giyeon’s face remained ashen throughout practice. He had clearly forgotten my words that there are naturally those born with two left feet in this world.
* * *
After the monthly evaluation ended, the staff members who had attended as judges gathered in the meeting room located on the company’s second floor.
“The kids are continuing to practice, right?”
“Yes. They’re all so diligent.”
Min Jugyeong answered the CEO’s question immediately.
UA’s trainees were truly diligent. For years, no one at UA had ever seen a company trainee slacking off.
Moreover, their personalities were all easygoing, so compared to the rumors coming from the large management agencies famous as idol powerhouses, UA’s trainees could undeniably be called docile.
“Iwol has already managed to look the part. Jugyeong-sshi, did you bring him in?”
“Yes. I was surprised he did better than I thought.”
When the trainee she had cast and brought in was mentioned, Min Jugyeong added a comment.
‘I thought he looked okay, but to think he was really a promising sprout……’
When the behind-the-scenes story of the new trainee Gim Iwol’s casting was mentioned, the trainers who had been opening the evaluation sheets showed interest and asked.
“Jugyeong-sshi brought him in? From where?”
“Hongdae. I spotted him watching a busking performance and snatched him right up!”
“The location alone has a vibe.”
“Iwol, that kid—he definitely stands out in a crowd.”
When Min Jugyeong answered, the CEO and the dance trainer each added a word.
Min Jugyeong recalled when she had first encountered Gim Iwol.
‘He did stand out.’
The moment she saw Gim Iwol’s pale and shadowed face on the streets of Hongdae, Min Jugyeong thought.
‘The visual chemistry with our kids would be incredible……!’
His unusually upright posture had also contributed to Gim Iwol standing out.
Since he was tall and had good posture, his characteristic straight-backedness stood out even more in the crowd.
“Anyway, Jugyeong-sshi is really a bulldozer. How did you think to bring in a non-major?”
“Actually, I asked him about it before? He said he had an ear for music.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Hongdae is so noisy. He caught on right away when a single instrument was out of tune there.”
Everyone made expressions of surprise at Min Jugyeong’s words. And it was no wonder.
Because the side Gim Iwol usually showed was one of earnestly focused on his own practice, not one of sensitively catching each and every note.
But that day, Min Jugyeong had clearly seen.
It was the change in Gim Iwol’s expression—standing quietly a short distance from the stage, his brows furrowing ever so slightly when a certain part of the melody was repeated.
Gim Iwol did not linger near the busking stage for long.
Min Jugyeong had been wondering if he simply wasn’t very interested in the song, when the vocalist grabbed the mic and started talking.
At that moment, a guitarist who was tuning his instrument alone came into Min Jugyeong’s view.
There was no need to hesitate after that.
Min Jugyeong actively explained to the young student, who was wary of her sudden appearance, that she was not a suspicious person.
And as she watched that student politely receive the business card she held out with both hands, she thought. Please, let this friend come.
‘At first, I was going to cast him based on looks alone, but……’
Min Jugyeong cleared her throat. All roads lead to Seoul, don’t they?
Then, the vocal trainer O Eun, who had been quietly listening to the three people’s conversation, spoke.
“He does seem to have a sense for it. And he works hard, too.”
At O Eun’s words, the eyes of everyone in the meeting room focused.
He was a former main vocalist of a girl group that had debuted through a small agency but hadn’t achieved very impressive results and disbanded after 3 years.
Having been an idol himself, O Eun was also the person who evaluated the trainees most objectively among UA’s executives and staff.
Hearing the words ‘works hard’ from such an O Eun was no easy feat.
It would be one thing if it were Jeong Seongbin or Gang Giyeon, who had been trainees for a long time, but it was clearly a noteworthy achievement for Gim Iwol, who hadn’t even been here a month, to have his effort recognized.
What kind of evaluation would Gim Iwol receive in his first monthly assessment? Min Jugyeong couldn’t contain her inner anticipation.
* * *
Back in high school, you could go home when the mock exams ended.
But for a trainee, even when the evaluation ended, it was practice and more practice.
After finishing the remaining practice with the feeling of writing a wrong answer notebook, the time to return to the dormitory approached.
Today’s members in charge of lights-out were me and Jeong Seongbin.
On the way out of the company, Jeong Seongbin asked.
“Have you gotten somewhat used to things by now?”
It wasn’t something anyone could do—always looking after others while having so much to do oneself.
Even so, Jeong Seongbin was always consistent. To the point where you’d think it’s kids like these who become leaders.
“Yeah. Aside from getting completely wrung out during a one-hour private lesson with Giyeon.”
“An hour means you got off early, though?”
“So you know how to tell jokes?”
Jeong Seongbin laughed with a hint of embarrassment. But I couldn’t laugh, having been tumbled around in Gang Giyeon’s hands like chestnuts in a winter roasting pan.
Jeong Seongbin looked at me and asked.
“You always stay behind until the very end to practice. Isn’t it hard?”
“The instructors teach us kindly, and everyone helps, so it would be rude not to work hard. Fortunately, my stamina holds up.”
“Your stamina is truly admirable, hyung……”
Jeong Seongbin trailed off—he had approached me to teach me a move only to flop away like boiled mung bean sprouts.
This is all because they only feed growing teenagers salad.
This company really doesn’t know the importance of the growth period. Maybe Giyeong will only come to his senses if he can’t get past 175cm?
“Staying behind to practice isn’t the only thing you do hard. During break time, you’re the one going around looking after everyone.”
In the practice room, Jeong Seongbin was someone who moved as if he didn’t know what rest was. It was the same even after debut.
Jeong Seongbin faltered for a moment upon hearing my words. It was such a brief instant that I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been looking closely.
Jeong Seongbin soon relaxed his expression and spoke with a smile.
“I’m just normal.”
It was a humble thing to say, but I wasn’t so sure.
Could you call normal a life of waking up at the crack of dawn and repeating nothing but dance and song from morning till night for years?
In today’s world, where even paid overtime is limited to 12 hours a week.
‘Going back to being a trainee vs going back to the army……?’
Jeong Seongbin, who had solidified his recognition as one of the Five Great Bodhisattvas of Idols, had been unable to answer that question for quite a while during a live broadcast commemorating his military discharge. So, well. That says it all.
If he was that diligent, he should have pride in the time he spent working hard. But Jeong Seongbin had a strangely strong tendency to take his own efforts for granted.
If there were an employee in our department with impeccable attendance who never hesitated to help other employees and strove every day to improve their work capabilities?
If it were me, I might have carried that friend to work on my back starting tomorrow. It’s all because modern society is stingy with praise.
‘Why don’t I just give him that measly praise.’
It’s not like praising costs money.
Moreover, Jeong Seongbin was the one among the five members of Spark who held the least against me.
During broadcasts, he organized the order so voices wouldn’t overlap, and called out each member’s name one by one to make it easy for me to remember.
To a beginner fake Sparkler like me, who had been forced to enter the Spark fandom, Jeong Seongbin’s consideration was like a single ray of lamplight.
I could certainly spare a word of praise for such a benefactor.
If Jeong Seongbin had prevented the disbandment too, he could have prevented the disaster of me falling backward, fainting, and getting nine years younger as well, but I digress.
I walked a few more steps with Jeong Seongbin and opened my mouth at an appropriate moment.
“Ordinary people, even if they have something they want to do, don’t work at it every day like you.”
“Yes?”
“Even more so when you’re young. There’s so much fun in the world. Not everyone can resist knowing there’s fun to be had.”
For some reason, I felt like I was having an interview with a junior employee after a long time.
I didn’t prefer this kind of conversational atmosphere, but since I couldn’t just run off to the dormitory mid-sentence, I continued the conversation with effort.
“And how many things are you good at? You’re good at singing and good at dancing. Look at me. I can’t sing, and I can’t dance.”
“Hyung?”
I had definitely said it to comfort Jeong Seongbin, but for some reason, my own heart ached.
And perhaps because I had been rambling too much, Jeong Seongbin’s expression had changed oddly.
They say if you only say what you want to say in front of others, you become an old fogey. That was exactly what I looked like.
“……Of course, thinking of your countless fans-to-be, building up your skills diligently now is a desirable thing.”
Since you never know what will happen in life, I didn’t forget to add some cautious pressure.
Jeong Seongbin wasn’t the type to do that, but if I shot my mouth off and lost a leader of seven years, I didn’t think I could hold my head up no matter how much the other party was Spark.
“Fans…… you say……”
Jeong Seongbin smiled bitterly.
‘Huh?’
In an instant, my nape felt as cold as if a blade of wind had brushed past it.
I was intimately familiar with this eerie feeling from experience.
A person whose self-esteem had hit rock bottom. Uncertainty about himself seeping from his expression. A tone that clearly showed no expectation for the future—complete resignation.
‘Assistant Manager, I’m planning to resign at the end of this month.’
This was clearly a resignation signal.