Episode 57. Chuseok Holiday (4)
How sweet is a holiday sleep-in.
For a salaryman who had to wake up at 6:30 every morning, rub his sleepy eyes, shower, put on a suit, and board the infernal subway, holiday mornings were, quite literally, a time to be “luxuriously squandered.”
The UA trainees were probably no different. They too woke up early every day to dance and sing their hearts out.
So for Mr. Kim, who had spent years in office life only to become a trainee on top of that, he wanted to enjoy this rare sleep-in!
“Why are you here already?”
I rushed out at the sound of an unidentified outsider punching in the dorm passcode and asked.
I’d thought it was a drunkard fumbling with the door lock at the crack of dawn.
My suspicions were rendered pointless when the outsider, unable to overcome the front door lock and struggling outside, shouted.
“Iwol hyung! Juu hyung! Open the door!”
And so, the early-morning uninvited guest who advertised to the entire neighborhood that Mr. Iwol and Mr. Juu lived here—who was also a member of this dorm—I Cheonghyeon managed to get inside before the front door was broken down.
The culprit was that I’d latched the safety chain, thinking no one would come.
See? Who shows up early without calling?
I vaguely remembered hearing that beautiful people love their sleep, but I suppose that was all a lie.
“You’re the first person I’ve seen who hates it when someone arrives early. What a healthy lifestyle you must lead.”
“You could’ve called before coming.”
“I didn’t want to wake you guys up.”
“If you look at the current situation, aren’t you the one who woke everyone up anyway?”
“No way, did you think I locked the chain too?!”
I Cheonghyeon repeatedly expressed his grievances, but I wasn’t listening.
Even while arguing, I Cheonghyeon kept pulling things out of a large supermarket shopping bag and placing them on the dorm floor.
“What’s all this?”
“Chestnuts. Ah, and watermelon jelly too! You guys had jeon, right?”
“Who’d you hear that from?”
“Seongbin hyung. I talked to him last night. Didn’t he call you?”
Was he talking about that heart-stopping call on the Han River bridge?
It seemed Jeong Seongbin had contacted I Cheonghyeon after that call too.
I’d thought he called to check if the members left behind in the dorm had caused any trouble, but it turned out he’d simply called every member once. A terribly diligent guy.
Meanwhile, Bak Juu trudged out half-asleep and moved the watermelon jelly into the cupboard.
This uncle was proud that the household chores seemed to be well divided.
I asked as I helped move the food I Cheonghyeon had brought into the refrigerator.
“So. Why did you come so early?”
“I was afraid you’d be bored.”
“What?”
“They say you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone!”
I Cheonghyeon declared proudly. Being able to say something so embarrassing with such confidence was precisely the quality of an idol.
I briefly wondered if this kid would be okay spending what felt like a million-year vacation like this.
Bak Juu, who’d finished putting away the food and returned, asked too.
“…Is it okay that you’re not with your family?”
I Cheonghyeon was completely unfazed.
“What’s the point of being together? I’d just get nagged. Ah, but I did well on my grades this time, so no one said much!”
“Your parents must be quite ambitious about your studies.”
“Not quite, completely. Honestly, I think it’s greedy to want all three kids to do nothing but study.”
I Cheonghyeon spoke firmly.
True, when you’re a family of five and only one is walking the path of music, it can’t be easy to fit in with the others.
And so we chatted, eating two chestnuts each that I Cheonghyeon had brought.
A few hours later, Jeong Seongbin returned clutching a black plastic bag.
“Seongbin hyung!”
Jeong Seongbin welcomed I Cheonghyeon, who was greeting him cheerfully, and handed the bag to Bak Juu.
Inside the bag Bak Juu received was a heap of yakgwa.
Bak Juu looked at the bag stuffed full of yakgwa with bewildered eyes and asked.
“What is all this…?”
“It’s yakgwa. Hyung, has everything been okay? Cheonghyeon’s here already?”
I asked, full of anxiety.
“…Do you happen to like yakgwa?”
It’d be a problem if he did. One piece of yakgwa is a whopping 140 kcal.
“No, I just brought some for the members to eat.”
Fortunately, Jeong Seongbin dispelled my anxiety in an instant.
Jeong Seongbin hadn’t brought only yakgwa.
Jeong Seongbin’s mother had sent airtight containers full of handmade mandu this time. Apparently the whole family had wrapped them together for Chuseok.
“Hyung, some of the mandu here are burst.”
“Ah… that’s probably Jeong Seongjun’s doing.”
Jeong Seongbin mentioned his younger brother’s name and let out a small sigh.
That dry tone and a voice that seemed to hide exasperation…
My older sister probably makes that exact face when she talks about me somewhere. Sorry for being an inadequate little brother, nuna.
As I was feeling an inexplicable kinship with a Jeong Seongjun I’d never met, Jeong Seongbin spoke to me.
“She said to put the mandu in the freezer and steam them when we eat. I learned how, so I’ll do it.”
“I know that much. But how did you carry all this?”
“Dad gave me a ride nearby.”
I see. You should’ve let him come in for tea… I’ll have no face to show him later…
Even after that, the blessings of holiday food didn’t stop.
Before long, Gang Giyeon showed up with a whole box of ginger hangwa.
“…Do you hyungs like ginger?”
With an extremely awkward expression at that.
He didn’t seem to like ginger himself, but I, who was crazy for ginger tea, warmly welcomed the ginger hangwa.
I Cheonghyeon cackled as he watched his friend haul a box of snacks from the family home.
“At this rate, is Jeho hyung going to bring something too?”
“No way. Jeho hyung is coming from far away.”
As I Cheonghyeon joked, Jeong Seongbin, who’d been opening the hangwa box with sparkling eyes, laughed and waved his hand.
“I heard it takes three hours even on the KTX…?”
Bak Juu also looked as if that were out of the question.
Choi Jeho really hadn’t brought anything.
Instead, he’d simply carried it on his back.
“So you’re telling me you carried plum extract all the way from your house to here on your back?”
“Yeah. Mom told me to take it.”
Choi Jeho set down a bag that looked heavy even at a glance and slumped onto the sofa.
The silhouettes of two 1.5-liter PET bottles were visible from the outside.
“If you don’t want it, just leave it. I’ll take care of it myself.”
“What are you talking about, hyung! I love plums!”
As if worried Choi Jeho might actually throw away the plum extract, I Cheonghyeon quickly stuffed the two bottles into the refrigerator.
“So you’re saying to match the holiday bonuses for those below deputy manager level with the regular employees?”
“Yeah. That’s what the higher-ups ordered, so factor it into the budget in advance.”
“The difference from last New Year’s could be up to 400,000 won… Won’t there be a backlash?”
“What? Is the difference really that big?”
There were companies that slashed the bonuses they’d given to employees with over five years of tenure every few years because they begrudged even that.
“Hey, guys.”
I said, thinking of the plate of chestnuts, the yakgwa bag, the hangwa box, and the PET bottles in the refrigerator.
“Gather round. We’re making thank-you calls, starting with Choi Jeho’s family.”
* * *
Thanks to these guys who’d brought all sorts of food thinking of each other, we’d all come close to gaining 500 grams each.
If the six of us hadn’t run in two columns along the Han River every night, our families’ sincerity would have turned straight into body fat.
And so, trying to uphold an idol’s duty, we’d done our best even during that short holiday, but…
“While everyone was resting, I did some thinking. About what this group needs to do to survive in a unique market.”
If there is a god, I want to ask.
What were the ancestral gods doing at Chuseok? Why didn’t they drag Yu Hansu away?
I wanted to either tear up the PPT in front of me titled “Spark Stage Names (Draft)” or gouge out both my eyes looking at it. Violently, at that.
It wasn’t uncommon for idol groups to use stage names.
Sometimes using stage names had been the trend, and other times using real names had been the prevailing fashion.
But stage names were only made when a means was needed to present an idol more effectively.
Considering the team’s color and each member’s individuality, after various discussions.
“Like this, stage names containing elements that show six people belong to one group…”
Not making all six share a matching character.
I took advantage of everyone looking at Yu Hansu to discreetly rub my eyes. Then I looked at the screen again.
But the words “Yoo Family’s Six Brothers” were still there.
What did the ancestors even do at Chuseok? Not take Yu Hansu away.
I guessed that was the idea he’d barely squeezed out, since there were already precedents for matching syllable counts, alphabets, native Korean words, and so on.
I’m not a person with outstanding creativity.
And I know how pathetic it is to pile on words to someone else’s work without having helped…
“Isn’t this too tacky?”
I reread the materials Yu Hansu had brought in as trend research.
Fans like family-like groups? Sure.
It’s also true that assigning positions like parents, eldest, second, uncle, maknae is common.
But did they really need to take the entire worldview itself and not just a few self-produced videos and make it a boisterous brotherhood concept? Not as an album concept, but as a group concept?
With things flowing this far, I was now beyond anger and into bewilderment. At the same time, I was at a loss for how to handle this.
I’d even seriously considered whether it might be better to just get up and leave right now. Because there was nothing as useless as sitting here at this very moment.
But I couldn’t. What if “Iwon” ended up written under my profile picture?
For reference, that “won” is the “won” from “one team.”
I Cheonghyeon’s complexion was poor today too, as it was obvious he’d end up with a post-debut nickname like “National Petition.”
Gang Giyeon, sitting next to him and likewise fated to receive a nickname like “Lotto Prayer,” chewed on his innocent lips.
“Aren’t our kids’ real names fine? It’s okay for one or two members to use stage names, but for all of us to use them… Moreover, there is no precedent for matching names like this.”
One of the planning team staff spoke. It was an integrity that made me want to pledge eternal allegiance.
But Yu Hansu’s will was firm.
“Can we succeed by only doing what others do? UA is challenging a new market, so the public must have expectations, and I think we need a challenging spirit worthy of that.”
Yu Hansu shrugged.
I could see I Cheonghyeon, sitting across from me, squeezing his eyes shut. It seemed Yu Hansu had never heard the saying that there’s a reason others don’t do certain things.
Whether he couldn’t see the expressions of everyone in the meeting room or not, Yu Hansu continued his presentation.
“We should emphasize that from the names themselves. Names represent people, don’t they?”
Why not just make the team slogan “Spark is always one!” while you’re at it.
The debut track can be titled “Only One,” and for music shows, we only need to perform once per album.
Teamwork is a basic quality of an idol to begin with. It means it’s an essential competency you should have by default, not something to emphasize.
“Stealing others’ work to claim results, and wanting to protect your pride, so you try one thing or another?”
It’d been a while since I’d met such a headache-inducing type. My head hurt.
The one small relief was that Yu Hansu’s story wasn’t getting a very good response from the others either. Judging by the planning team’s rotting expressions, it seemed I wouldn’t have to step in this time.
Sure enough, the planning team leader opened his mouth.
“Understood for now. Is there anything else we need to discuss?”
It was a way of speaking that subtly changed the subject. The planning team leader looked like he wanted to end this fruitless meeting as soon as possible.
“Ah, it’s an extension of the stage names.”
Yu Hansu changed the PPT slide.
On the screen, “Spark Fandom Name Establishment” was written in a crisp sans-serif typeface against a white background.
No.
Why is a fandom name coming up here…?