NOVEL NEXT Chapter 110 - Virtual Meeting
Mental Pillar Jeong Seongbin
[I’m so sorry to bother you guys during your vacation.]
[We got a proposal for Spark to join a survival program. The manager asked me to check everyone’s opinion.]
Following the message was an emoticon of a cute character lying face down on the floor, sobbing.
Why is it that every company I work for loves to contact me on my days off?
Is this just the industry standard? Our society is harsh.
Cutie Pretty Visual Lee Cheonghyeon
[What kind of program is it?]
Mental Pillar Jeong Seongbin
[It’s a newly launched program!]
King of Cuteness Kang Kiyeon
[Is it only for debuted groups?]
Mental Pillar Jeong Seongbin
[Seems like it. Hold on, I’ll organize the details I’ve got and share them!]
Meanwhile, those who had checked it out first were already exchanging their opinions. I respect your passion for work, you guys.
A few minutes later, a long message arrived from Jeong Seongbin.
Mental Pillar Jeong Seongbin
[★ IMPORTANT ★
Strictly Confidential! Do not share outside.
Working Title: Idol Dynasty Chronicle
Concept: A ruthless survival project featuring K-pop idols who will carry on the legacy of K-pop.
Format: Six boy groups compete through five stages, and the winner will be determined in the final.
Special Note: They want a response as quickly as possible due to the filming schedule. (opinions must be gathered by next Wednesday).]
The summary was really well organized. Moments like these validated my effort in recommending The Art of Leadership Communication to Manager Nam.
Having checked the announcement, I was drying my hair with a towel when Lee Cheonghyeon groaned.
“What’s wrong?”
“They want a quick decision, but I’m not sure we can gather everyone in time. Kiyeon, Seongbin hyung, and I are heading back to Seoul for school tomorrow, but Jeho hyung and Joowoo hyung aren’t.”
“Do we really need to meet in person to discuss this?”
“Survival programs are notoriously complicated. I’ve heard there are many cases where internal opinions don’t align, especially for long-term projects with a competitive format.”
“Then we can all talk it over properly.”
My reply didn’t seem to ease Lee Cheonghyeon’s worry.
“What’s the matter? You don’t want to participate?”
“No, it’s not that.”
He hesitated, then spoke with a serious expression.
“Hyung, everyone’s on vacation. Do you think making such a quick decision is possible through text messages?”
“Totally impossible.”
“Just thinking about it makes me feel uneasy….”
Lee Cheonghyeon clutched his chest.
Watching him, I turned on my laptop, which had been closed for only 30 minutes, and said.
“Cheonghyeon, what century are we in?”
“The 21st century.”
“Right. Should we really only communicate through text just because of physical distance?”
I posted a short announcement in the group message chat.
Me
[Has anyone ever done a video meeting before?]
[I’ll show you how to do it. First, vote on what time works for you.
21:00~22:00
22:00~23:00]
I’m pretty good at setting up remote meetings, you know.
* * *
What kind of program was ‘Idol Dynasty Chronicle’?
‘Idol Dynasty Chronicle’, or IDC for short, was simply another typical survival program.
Launched during a period overflowing with survival shows, IDC initially failed to gain much traction. While its title hinted at a strong concept, the show itself didn’t differ much from any other generic survival competition. Most of its rivals had the advantage of being sequels or gender-swapped versions of already successful formats, which gave them an early lead in viewership ratings.
The only people who showed interest in IDC were hardcore K-pop fans, or the so-called veteran Idol fans.
That was, of course, until the other programs airing around the same time all crashed and burned.
The reasons for their failures were varied:
A competing program was caught manipulating rankings.
Another show’s participants caused a scandal and withdrew en masse.
Rumors of romantic entanglements between the MC and a participant, with one party confirming and the other denying it… and so on.
With promising competitors dropping like flies, IDC was left standing alone in a desolate wasteland.
The production company, previously worried about IDC’s lackluster buzz, seized this golden opportunity.
≫ Has anyone seen the final prize for IDC’s winning group?
Originally it was:
Winning prize: 100 million won
Support for a comeback showcase
But now it’s:
Prize money increased to 300 million won
A custom-made golden royal seal engraved with the members’ names
Guaranteed participation in Season 2, with exclusive benefits
And they’ve also added:
+ Starting from Round 3, they’ll provide production costs based on ranking
└ They’re definitely betting everything on IDC
They even announced a Season 2 before the first season had ended!
As one comment aptly put it, the universe seemed to be conspiring(?) for IDC’s success, with the production company seemingly pouring their entire third-quarter budget into the show.
As a result, IDC reigned as the representative boy group survival program for about two years. The groups that appeared on the show gained significant recognition among their contemporaries.
And that was why Spark needed to be on IDC. It was their ticket to finally compete head-to-head with other groups in their generation.
‘If we don’t do this, who knows when I’ll hit the KPIs.’
Pushing up Spark’s debut, tirelessly filming self-produced content, and appearing on variety shows that others avoided – all of it was to secure this opportunity on IDC.
I’d run through several scenarios, worried that pushing the debut date might affect program schedules, including IDC. Thankfully, the changes fell within my projected range. If I hadn’t anticipated this, I’d be panicking about the accelerated casting process.
And now, after all my dedication to IDC, they still wanted to ‘discuss’ whether we should participate?
Nah. We’re going all in.
* * *
As the appointed time approached, I watched everyone gradually log into the Zoom meeting room I had prepared in advance.
I felt so proud. I’d only sent a few lines of instructions via text, yet they all managed to join on their own.
With this level of tech-savviness, they wouldn’t get flustered even on their first day at a remote work company.
“Choi Jeho, what’s with your background?”
While waiting for everyone to assemble, I asked the guy who was currently in Hawaii.
『My sister told me to turn this on because the room’s a mess.』
“Couldn’t you have cleaned your room while visiting home?”
『This is my sister’s room, though.』
“Well, whatever the room’s state, it’s up to the room’s owner.”
In the background, I could hear someone scolding Jaeho. He made a retort, but I reminded him to behave himself since he was in his sister’s room.
Once everyone had gathered on time, I obtained their consent to record the meeting, and we officially began our discussion about appearing on IDC.
The vote on whether to participate was 4:2 in favor. Park Joowoo expressed his disapproval, while Lee Cheonghyeon was undecided.
Surprisingly, Kang Kiyeon was eager to join. It wouldn’t have been odd for him to feel burdened by such a long-term project, but he firmly said, ‘We can’t always do only what we want’.
The 18-year-old Kang Kiyeon seemed a hundred times more mature than 29-year-old me, who used to cry internally at the thought of working.
“Listen, I want to respect all of your opinions.”
At my words, everyone turned their gazes to the camera.
“But this opportunity is too good to pass up.”
I opened the PowerPoint presentation I’d hastily prepared and switched the camera to screen-sharing mode.
After about 40 minutes of presenting 58,000 reasons why we should be on IDC:
“With all this, how could I oppose?! Fine, I’m in.”
『…Me too.』
Lee Cheonghyeon and Park Joowoo readily changed their minds. I expressed my sincere gratitude.
『So, what should we prepare next?』
Amidst the warm atmosphere, Kang Kiyeon asked a very good question.
“Actually, I’ve been waiting for a chance to bring this up.”
『What is it?』
“How about we all drop the honorifics?”
Dismantling Spark’s formal speech system had been my long-cherished project since last year.
Due to the setup where I was supposed to use informal speech with the younger members, I found myself casually speaking informally in situations where it wasn’t appropriate, leaving me uneasy ever since.
I couldn’t even completely humble myself in front of the mentors guiding someone as clumsy as me, how presumptuous was it to say something like ‘Thanks’ in such a casual tone as a learner?
Mutual use of formal speech might be ideal, but that was mainly for professional settings.
Considering the members’ respectful nature towards their seniors, I knew they would be more uncomfortable if Choi Jeho and I were to use formal speech.
So, my conclusion was that it would be better for everyone to drop the honorifics and speak casually.
I had subtly brought this up with Choi Jeho…
‘You’re asking what would I feel if the members start speaking informally to me?’
‘Yeah, you’ve been with them for a few years now, haven’t you?’
‘I don’t really care.’
…That was what he said.
“Once we enter the program, we’ll have to handle everything from stage planning to rehearsals in a short amount of time. We’ll have far less time and mental space compared to comeback preparations, and I don’t think an atmosphere where people are overly polite or hesitant to share their opinions out of respect for the older ones will benefit the team.”
This suggestion was only possible because I knew they wouldn’t lose basic respect just because they were allowed to speak informally.
The faces of the members on the screen were painted with surprise, seemingly not expecting this conversation at all.
“Hyung, aren’t you worried the dongsaengs will get too cheeky?”
“Yeah, I’m not too worried about the other dongsaengs, but I am a bit concerned about you, Cheonghyeon.”
At my words, Cheonghyeon burst out laughing.
“It’s not mandatory. Those who feel comfortable speaking informally can do so, and those who need more time can continue as usual. Just know that you don’t need to be overly cautious when suggesting something or giving feedback.”
“Got it, Iwol!”
“See how easily Cheonghyeon switched? Everyone, just relax like him.”
As a result of this ‘informal speech liberation’, Joowoo and Cheonghyeon opted for casual speech, while Jeong Seongbin and Kang Kiyeon maintained formal speech. Those two were truly the Upright Brothers.
I briefly imagined Jeong Seongbin or Kang Kiyeon saying, ‘Hyung, are you even dancing properly?’ and I couldn’t help but chuckle.
Come to think of it, this wasn’t really a time to laugh. I should mentally prepare myself.
* * *
The next day, Lee Cheonghyeon and I returned to Seoul after our short trip.
Kang Kiyeon had already arrived at the dorm.
‘Why are you here so early? Because of school tomorrow?’
‘That’s part of it.’
I thought he might have come back early because of Monday classes.
‘We decided to practice some cover dances for Idol Dynasty Chronicle, right?’
‘Right.’
‘I talked with Jeho hyung, and it seems it will take some time to learn the covers. So until he gets here, I’ll watch over your choreography.’
‘Good. Anyone who can’t keep up with the team isn’t needed.’
It turned out he came to take care of the scatterbrained Kim Iwol. The dance line becoming united because of me—lt was a heartwarming, tear-jerking sight.
I did my best in Kang Kiyeon’s one-on-one lesson so that Choi Jeho wouldn’t have to rush up from Gwangju.
‘Hyung, didn’t you say those who can’t keep up aren’t needed?’
‘Just leave me alone.’
However, I was not destined to become a dancing machine.
The world was truly a harsh place. This was just another way of reminding me that I was not a full-fledged member of Spark.
Although I continued to be terrible at dancing after that, I didn’t completely neglect other things.
While honing personal skills that every idol should have and trimming or burning fat to increase my ‘idol power’…
“If you’re ready, shall we start the Spark interview?”
The first meeting for Idol Dynasty Chronicle was approaching, faster than the early Summer.