Episode 39. Profile Photoshoot
Although the group name issue was still running into difficulties, the other preparations were steadily moving forward.
Today’s profile photoshoot was also part of that.
For this day, I’d had to fall asleep before one in the morning for a whole week.
Because Jeong Seongbin, acting on the manager’s orders, had strictly forbidden late-night work under the pretext of “all members’ skin condition management.”
“Seongbin, I’m looking up reference materials for this, so I think it’ll take a while….”
“We’ll handle breakfast on our own this week, so stop for today and sleep. Do it tomorrow morning.”
Jeong Seongbin’s special management target wasn’t just me.
“Seongbin hyung, if I could just write one more measure of this melody, I think I’d be able to sleep soundly!”
“You said that an hour ago too. Cheonghyeon, you go in now too, okay?”
I confess. I was somewhat overwhelmed by the spirit of Jeong Seongbin, who was still a high school student. There was no room for compromise whatsoever.
The result of sufficient, regular sleep, newly regained youth, and a professional’s makeup skills combined: my dark circles had vanished without a trace.
It was so remarkable that even Choe Jeho offered a backhanded compliment.
“You shouldn’t pull all-nighters. You look better without dark circles.”
“Don’t say that where Seongbin can hear.”
I’d declined overtime, but compared to having work pile up, overtime would’ve been better. Accumulated work always caused headaches.
“Whew. I’ve only ever seen you in practice clothes, so seeing you in a shirt really makes your figure stand out.”
“Really? Should I take a selfie or something?”
Even in the hectic midst, the manager and Lee Cheonghyeon were chatting excitedly.
They could’ve just kept the fun talk between themselves, but Lee Cheonghyeon deliberately ran over to where we were.
“Hyung! The manager says we look good in shirts! Take pictures and save them!”
“Yeah, yeah. You go take a hundred pictures of yourself first.”
“Ah, why! Let’s take them together!”
“Right now, instead of worrying about who to take pictures with, you should be thinking about preserving your face.”
Lee Cheonghyeon’s face had delivered a tremendous shock when I’d first seen it.
Still, living together, it was only natural for the impact of one’s appearance to dull and for you to adapt.
I too had adapted to Lee Cheonghyeon’s face… or so I’d thought.
But a handsome man scrubbed and polished with full hair, makeup, and styling was completely different from his bare face.
I felt like I finally understood why fans so desperately longed for the perfect trio of hair, makeup, and outfit to all fall into place.
“Oh my! Do I really look that good? Specifically, how good?”
“About eight hundred fifty thousand won per unit area?”
“Why exactly eight hundred fifty thousand?”
“That’s the current price of gold.”
“I’ll accept that, hyungnim.”
Lee Cheonghyeon raised his thumb with an emotional expression.
Over Lee Cheonghyeon’s shoulder, I could see the video team’s camera lens pointed this way. I’d have to ask them to edit out that clip.
Telling him I’d sit somewhere out of the way since there were so many people, I barely escaped Lee Cheonghyeon’s range, and this time I spotted Jeong Seongbin.
*Hair done. Makeup done too.*
He seemed to be finished on this side, so I tried to check the others’ progress, when the necktie in Jeong Seongbin’s hand caught my eye.
Our profile photo concept was a “neat student ID.”
Because surprisingly, a clean, respectable frontal shot of an idol was hard to come by. One with neat clothes was even harder.
That daughter had composited school uniforms and suits onto Spark’s faces the same way.
During promotions, you could pull conceptual photos every time.
But an ID photo from your fresh-faced days could only be captured right now.
So what was chosen was a white shirt and grey tie. Because it was the most basic and cleanest.
*But the fact that he’s holding that means….*
I pointed at Jeong Seongbin’s tie and asked.
“Do you happen to know how to tie a tie?”
“No, our school uniform has clip-on ties.”
As expected. Well, I don’t think I knew how to tie a tie in high school either.
Looking around, the two stylists seemed to be struggling to take care of all six of us.
In this chaos, it was too shameless to call them over to help tie ties.
“Come here. I’ll tie it for you.”
“Hyung, you know how to tie a tie?”
“Yeah.”
I don’t think I’d ever tied someone else’s tie before, but whatever.
Maybe because it was a tie I’d tied while half-asleep in the mornings, tying it for him wasn’t difficult.
I shaped it nicely and patted Jeong Seongbin’s shoulder.
“Done. Learn it later if you want. It’s not that hard.”
“Yes, thank you!”
“Hyung, me too….”
From beside Jeong Seongbin, who was greeting brightly, Park Juu held out a tie with both hands, looking awkward. It was a courtesy that made it impossible to refuse.
*If we get a decent settlement, I should write in the handover documents to have clip-on ties prepared.*
Imagining a distant future, I tied a tie snugly around Park Juu’s neck too.
The photoshoot went more smoothly than I’d expected.
From Choe Jeho, who already seemed used to the camera after just one music video.
To Jeong Seongbin, who said he’d had camera tests at school for three years.
And Lee Cheonghyeon, who had adapted quickly to cameras even in his debut days.
Park Juu was excellent too, maintaining a composed atmosphere whether cameras were rolling or not.
As for me… I’d mastered the art of putting on a smile that was fake but didn’t look fake, so I passed both the expressionless and smiling shots in one go.
*If only Gang Giyeon wraps up well, we’re basically done.*
The five trainees, including me, held our breath and watched Gang Giyeon walk onto the set last.
If worst came to worst, we were ready to rush in and tickle him all at once.
That was definitely the plan, but.
“With a more smiling face! Yes, natural and good!”
Gang Giyeon was smiling faintly but clearly.
It was unbelievable that this was the same person whose expression while looking at a cake in his birthday v-log had circulated as “a young boss watching an execution by burning.”
“Do you guys practice smiling faces at night too?”
“No, that’s the product of self-study.”
Smiling pretty is harder than you’d think.
A natural, bright smile makes the viewer happy too, but an idol has to worry about how they look even when smiling.
If it’s even slightly awkward, you get attacked for forcing a smile.
But you can’t just smile broadly either. When your smiling face doesn’t match popular beauty standards, malicious screenshots and hate comments follow.
Though it’s not the same as being an idol, I too had once sent off Department Head Nam with a smiling face saying “enjoy your lunch,” only to be caught like a rat because the corner of my eye trembled, so I could understand that feeling.
It was because my eyes were broken from working without even drinking water.
Anyway.
That Gang Giyeon—the stiffest among us, and especially stiff in front of cameras—was smiling so refreshingly was truly surprising.
We stared holes into the monitor screen, then surrounded Gang Giyeon when he returned safely after finishing filming.
“Giyeon, the pictures came out amazing!”
“It really looked good.”
“No, what’s the big deal about taking one picture….”
A guy who would’ve said “What. Go away” if it were me or Lee Cheonghyeon was extremely awkward at Jeong Seongbin and Park Juu’s praise. It was a bit annoying.
“They say there aren’t many people who praise you once you’re out in society. So enjoy the moment, Gyeon!”
“Who said that?”
“Lee Wol hyung.”
“From what I see, that hyung is on his second life. His thoughts are steeped in the secular world.”
“If you don’t want etiquette lessons from a worldly hyung, both of you should stop there.”
Separate from being worldly, I was curious. How that blockhead-like guy had suddenly become able to put on an idol smile.
But the answer was simple.
“I practiced.”
“When?”
“Just… whenever there was a mirror nearby.”
As expected, an attitude that would move even a drill instructor.
The saying that effort never betrays you really wasn’t wrong in the slightest.
Unexpectedly, my heart felt most uncomfortable during the group photo.
I experienced cognitive dissonance at the fact that I had to be squeezed in between these five people.
The image of Spark stepping on the red carpet at the year-end awards ceremony was still vivid in my mind.
I’d thought I was prepared for the comparison ever since I first decided to debut while holding these kids back.
But standing with these sparkling faces for a picture, my own face naturally felt like withering.
In preparation for this, when suggesting the profile photo concept, I had even sent the composition in advance. It was a setup with me standing at the very end.
This way, even after I leave, they can just cut off the edge of the photo.
I resolved to stand at the very edge for group photos from now on.
*Later, I should Photoshop a five-person version and back it up separately.*
Leaving a new task in my mind, the profile photoshoot ended successfully.
What should I call this feeling? It was extremely strange.
* * *
“Now that we’ve even taken photos, doesn’t it feel real that we’re really debuting? My heart was pounding so much yesterday I couldn’t sleep.”
“You have to sleep. That’s how you grow tall.”
“Look at this hyung breaking the mood again.”
Lee Cheonghyeon had recovered so quickly it was hard to believe he’d run away from the pressure.
He was eating watermelon with one hand and solving English worksheets with the other, chatting incessantly.
I looked at today’s worksheet placed before me and thought.
*At the age where I’m still solving problem sets, it feels more than real, you brat.*
To think I’d be solving private academy worksheets at this age that I couldn’t even attempt as a teenager because I had no money. I was filled with emotion.
“Cheonghyeon, let’s focus during the hours we set for studying.”
“I knew I’d get an earful from you.”
Lee Cheonghyeon, who’d already gotten a word each from Jeong Seongbin and Gang Giyeon, finally shut his mouth and started his share of homework.
To match global trends, idol groups had at least one or two foreign language specialists.
Plus, there was an awareness that everyone should know at least basic English greetings.
That was exactly why we were gathered in the dorm living room at 10:30 PM solving English worksheets.
Since we couldn’t take much time off from practice schedules, the method was to meet with an instructor in a group class once a week, and do the assigned homework on the other days.
Honestly, it wasn’t hard. I had prepared for TOEIC Speaking up until my job-hunting days.
But feelings were a different matter.
After twelve years of studying because others told me to, and four years of studying that didn’t suit my aptitude, barely escaping—being dragged back to the desk felt like death.
I recognized the necessity of studying. Because all the English expressions I remembered were business English.
An idol telling an overseas fan who joined a live broadcast, “Thank you for taking your precious time to attend.”
Even if they didn’t know better, rumors that I was a weirdo would definitely spread.
Still, I couldn’t complain. Because even Lee Cheonghyeon, who could free-talk in English, had come out to the living room under the pretext of studying with the members and was doing harmony studies.
Thanks to that, Lee Cheonghyeon was putting his outstanding English skills to use and acting as a personal tutor for the studious student Jeong Seongbin.
“Lee Cheonghyeon, when did you learn English?”
Choe Jeho set down his mechanical pencil and asked, likely because his concentration had run out. Then again, I’d expected him to hold out for a good while.
“It’s all skill honed at English kindergarten.”
“You can free-talk just from going to English kindergarten?”
“After that, mandatory education lined up one after another, hyung.”
Lee Cheonghyeon spoke with a smile that looked like it had burned white.
What was the point of describing that fed-up feeling? There was no need to explain.
“Lee Wol hyung too… couldn’t you hold a conversation?”
“I can only answer what I know. I’ve been injected with too many scripts.”
“For someone like that, you sure said ‘please give me a receipt’ very accurately.”
“You guys memorize that one unconditionally too. If you spend money, proof of purchase is essential. Got it?”
No sooner had I spoken than I recalled staff members pleading that they couldn’t get receipts when applying for meal and transportation expenses.
Or those who submitted only receipts without bank account numbers, or whose written amounts didn’t match….
*If I keep thinking like this, it’s bad for my mental health.*
I should probably learn some meditation to find peace soon. My mind and body were too exhausted.