Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols

Ask Me Anything?

 

“What’s that?”

 

When I asked, Kang Kiyeon answered.

 

“You reply to almost all the posts on the fan cafe, hyung. Shouldn’t you stop doing that?”

 

Just like Kang Kiyeon said, I had been responding to posts in Spark’s fan cafe like an omniscient FAQ god.

 

≫ Did you eat all the snacks after the live?

 

└ There were some leftovers, so we sealed them with a clip. The most popular snack today was honey pizza! 🙂

 

The rate of new posts wasn’t too fast, so spending about 30 minutes a day was enough to keep up.

 

The person who posted the comment probably wanted replies from other members besides me, but I figured they wouldn’t be too upset since they got an increase in their information… I posted it with that thought in mind.

 

“Yeah. It’s a good idea.”

 

Kang Kiyeon’s idea wasn’t bad.  I could lower the focus on myself by talking about other members, too.

 

“Then I guess you need to gather questions, hyung?”

 

“I’ve already been collecting some, so it’s fine. I just need a few more for the event.”

 

“Why have you been collecting those in the first place…?”

 

Kang Kiyeon shook his head as if he couldn’t understand. Did he think I collected them because I wanted to?

 

I thought I had overcome one hurdle. That was until I heard the shocking news that I had to be the first one to film the content.

 

“Me first?”

 

I pointed at myself and asked the manager.

 

The first thing he said when he came to the practice room today was, ‘I think we’ll start with Iwol first!’.

 

I wanted to protest, ‘But Seongbin is the leader, why me?’ Yet I held back because I was a grown adult.

 

And the manager completely trampled over my grown mindset.

 

“Yeah. Because Iwol’s birthday is the earliest. We’re going by age.”

 

In this day and age, isn’t it too old-fashioned to still consider people’s age?

 

Shouldn’t you put the leader first and let the rest go in based on skill?

 

Because of that, I ended up filming a video that no one would care about, all because I was born in February.

 

Since it had come to this, I could only hope that other members’ views would skyrocket by sacrificing me.

 

‘But who would even be interested in my content?’

 

If I were a fan of this group, I wouldn’t even want to look at the member who was obviously the weakest link just from the fancams alone.

 

Even though I wouldn’t do it half-heartedly, considering the video team was supporting the filming, I still needed to deliver some results. This was a big deal.

 

“What are you mumbling about?”

 

Choi Jeho approached with a casual tone and asked.

 

“What should I do with my self-content? It’s harder than I thought to fill 20 minutes alone.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

While I was seriously worrying, he was acting all carefree.

 

Wait a second, shouldn’t he be worried, too?

 

I asked in a slightly bewildered tone.

 

“Aren’t you worried?”

 

“I’ll probably fill the 10 minutes with a dance medley.”

 

Look at this b****?

 

“What kind of attitude is that? You’re already slacking off?”

 

When I said that with a serious face, Choi Jeho’s expression became a bit strange. He seemed more flustered than annoyed.

 

“No, I wasn’t planning to slack off!!”

 

Choi Jeho shouted as if he was being wronged.

 

“Our album, even including all the songs, doesn’t even last 10 minutes. If you’re talking about doing a medley of just two or three songs, how is that not slacking off?”

 

“I meant I was going to do cover dances!”

 

Oh. That was what he meant?

 

Certainly, as a dance member and the center, Choi Jeho always had a demand for cover dances. I had watched it so many times that my eyes were sore, so how did I forget?

 

I thought that Choi Jeho had a computer error in his head when he came up with such a unique idea, but this time it was clearly my mistake. I apologized to him sincerely.

 

“I’m sorry. I misunderstood.”

 

“Whatever. But what’s wrong with you?”

 

“Me? What about me?”

 

“You’re being sensitive. Ever since yesterday.”

 

Me?

 

It was something I hadn’t thought about at all. I replayed his words in my head, wondering if I’d understood him right.

 

No, of course, my mood had been on a roller coaster since yesterday because of the system, but…

 

This was even more shocking than when Jeong Seongbin noticed my discomfort before.

 

This time, the other person was none other than Choi Jeho. This guy was even more oblivious than a polar bear.

 

If even he thought I was being insensitive, I couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable the others must have been around me.

 

“I guess I was just tired. I am fine now.”

 

“Okay then.”

 

With that, Choi Jeho turned his back and went off to do his own thing.

 

Someone who barely made it in, was the least skilled, and used his age as an excuse to nag, walking around the dorm clearly showing, ‘I’m so sensitive right now!’.

 

“This is the worst.”

 

A deep sigh came from the pit of my stomach. It seemed I was the one with a screw loose.

 

* * *

 

I was very disappointed in myself for not being able to control my emotions properly.

 

So I wrote three pages of apology diary full of reflection. I thought my fingers would break from writing it.

 

I also apologized to the members for disrupting the atmosphere in the dorm. Being the kind souls they were, they all consistently said, ‘We didn’t really notice! You don’t have to apologize!’.

 

In order to fix my twisted attitude, I volunteered to secretly help the members.

 

I bought a dehumidifier and put it in the shoe cabinet, and I cleaned the balcony thoroughly. Without anyone knowing.

 

At least it was fortunate that we were currently on the break period.

 

If it had been during the activities, I would’ve had to clean the living room floor with one hand, write proposals with the other, and practice dance steps with both feet.

 

If I got caught doing this alone, everyone would have to do the housework according to the dorm rules, so I was cleaning the dorm in secret again this morning, like a diligent invisible husband…

 

“What are you doing there?”

 

I went into the kitchen to boil some barley tea and caught Choi Jeho and Lee Cheonghyeon standing awkwardly.

 

“Uh, we were just… looking to see if there were any dishes to wash!”

 

“I already did them earlier.”

 

There were not many dishes to wash in this dorm. There had to be someone who ate something for the dishes to be washed.

 

Lee Cheonghyeon, who was caught lying, immediately backed out.

 

I looked at Choi Jeho and asked with my eyes. ‘What excuse are you going to make?’

 

Then Choi Jeho answered without hesitation.

 

“Cheonghyeon wanted to eat kimchi pancakes, so we came to check things out.”

 

“Ah, hyung!”

 

“So, you two were conspiring?”

 

I glanced outside and saw a light drizzle falling. Maybe because it was still morning, all I could hear was the sound of rain.

 

It was hard not to think about making pancakes on a day like this.

 

Looking at the two flustered guys, I asked.

 

“Should I make some?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Pancake. I can’t guarantee that it will taste good, though.”

 

Unfortunately, I was more of an expert at making skewered pancakes.

 

Still, Lee Cheonghyeon’s face lit up brightly. It looked like a bouquet of blooming flowers.

 

As I bent down to grab the frying pan from under the sink, Lee Cheonghyeon asked Choi Jeho.

 

“Hyung, do you know your mom’s kimchi pancake recipe?”

 

“I don’t.”

 

“Why? Is Choi Jeho’s mom’s kimchi pancake that good?”

 

When I asked, Lee Cheonghyeon nodded so hard it seemed like his head might fall off. Then, he started raving about how amazing Choi Jeho’s mom’s kimchi pancake was, as if rapping.

 

“I’ve only had it once. It was the first time I’ve tasted such a delicious kimchi pancake. Hyung, you know how the edges of pancakes are usually the best part? But Jeho hyung’s mom’s pancakes are crispy in the middle too. They weren’t burnt or anything, just perfectly crispy!”

 

“…Is it really that good?”

 

“Good? Wow, come on.”

 

When Choi Jeho muttered with indifference, Lee Cheonghyeon scoffed as if in disbelief.

 

“Hyung doesn’t seem to realize the value of his mom’s kimchi pancakes. Even Joowoo hyung said they were delicious.”

 

“Park Joowoo?”

 

Choi Jeho was a little surprised when an unexpected name was suddenly brought up. I was a little surprised too.

 

“Has he ever said anything was delicious?”

 

Choi Jeho asked. He looked genuinely curious.

 

“That hyung eats to live, right? Like, he only eats because food is there. For him to say something’s tasty, that’s a guarantee.”

 

That was true.

 

It seemed Joowoo’s taste buds followed his personality—he preferred mild over greasy, subtle over spicy.

 

If Kang Kiyeon ate the salad without dressing for the sake of self-management, Joowoo would remove the dressing just to taste the natural flavor of the vegetables.

 

‘If soda’s the only thing available, he’ll wait until the carbonation is gone before drinking it.’

 

But Park Joowoo said my donggeurangttaeng was delicious during Chuseok. Did it pass because it was a ready-made product?

 

Anyway. Since I had decided to become a voluntary slave, I couldn’t just ignore it now that I heard that the masters wanted to eat kimchi pancakes.

 

I grabbed Choi Jeho’s shoulder and turned him towards me.

 

“Hey.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Go get the recipe from your mother.”

 

* * *

 

“Hello? Uh, Mom…”

 

Unable to endure the pressure from both me and Lee Cheonghyeon, Choi Jeho finally called his mother.

 

How nice it would have been if he had learned how to cook from his mother earlier.

 

While Lee Cheonghyeon and I exchanged satisfied smiles and cleaned the window ledges, a loud clattering noise came from the kitchen.

 

“Hey, did something break?”

 

“Is the sink broken?”

 

Lee Cheonghyeon and I each remarked and threw the rags away and ran into the kitchen.

 

There, we found Choi Jeho squatting between the sink and the dining table, surrounded by frying pans that had fallen with a clatter.

 

“I dropped some stuff. Mom, which frying pan should I use?”

 

Holding a large frying pan in each hand, Choi Jeho furrowed his brow.

 

Choi Jeho’s subsequent phone call was extremely unsettling.

 

“Batter mix? I don’t know. Can’t we just use flour?”

 

“Kimchi that’s fermented just right? How do I know when it’s fermented just right?”

 

“You can tell by tasting it? We only have one batch of kimchi in the dorm, though.”

 

As Choi Jeho asked his last question, a loud noise came from the other end of the receiver. It sounded like Choi Jeho’s mother’s patience had run out.

 

In that moment, I felt as if I’d just had a vision of the future.

 

I saw us eating six thick, pancake-like kimchi flour cakes soaked in oil.

 

As I imagined the five of us with our mouths glistening from kimchi grease, my hand was already tapping Choi Jeho’s shoulder.

 

“What?”

 

Choi Jeho asked.

 

You still ask?

 

Hand me the phone, you *****.