Archive of Our Own

It was on a regular Tuesday, sitting in his office space in Hanpyeong Industries, that Iwol first learned about a hobby he had never even considered before.

As someone forced to fangirl over idols on behalf of his boss’ daughter, Iwol had found himself avoiding things having to do with the idol industry if he could help it. Having to sit for countless hours combing over footage for even a hint of a smile among men who looked like they could barely stand to be on camera with each other 99.85% of the time had destroyed any possible personal interest he might have once had.

In the first place, Iwol had always chosen to listen to metal music or, at times, rock music if given the choice rather than pop. While in university he had played the bass with his club group, but that was the real extent of his own foray into the musical scene. He did listen to music just as much as any other average civilian in their modern consumerist society, but he hadn’t even touched his bass in years.

Time was one major factor. When he worked overtime six out of seven days of the week and received calls from Manager Nam seven out of seven at all hours of the day, it was hard to find moments to sit down and pick up the instrument. There was also the fact that it brought up memories he wasn’t sure he could think about right now.

So, while Iwol did listen to music sometimes, he wouldn’t call himself anything close to a musician or singer. Singing itself wasn’t anything he had ever really done, aside occasionally casually doing it as an accompaniment in university or having to sing trot during company outings with the higher-ups to entertain them. 

Which is why he had never thought of doing what Supervisor Song suggested to him that day until that moment.

It was already an hour past the time they were supposed to go home, but both Iwol and Supervisor Song remained stuck in the office working on their computers. Iwol, who was on the last Excel sheet he had to update for the day, marveled at how early he was going to be able to leave that day.

Of course, he knew he would almost definitely receive an email demanding he research something about Center Emperor Choi Jeho by the time he actually reached his apartment, but being able to leave the office was still a respite, even if it were a small one.

His co-worker stood up first in that moment, right as Iwol was typing in the last 1/5th of the sheet he had to transfer over. With her coat on and bag in hand, she said, “Assistant Manager Kim, I’ll be heading out first,” bidding him farewell.

Iwol responded in kind, wishing her a good night, before turning back to his work. If he didn’t have to look at another Excel sheet for at least eight hours, he would be willing to go to whatever the nearest house of worship was and give his thanks to whichever deity happened to be revered there.

“Assistant Manager Kim?” Supervisor Song’s voice called out from the door, snagging Iwol’s attention once more. He had thought that she would have left immediately when finished, as everyone at Hanpyeong Industries did when given the chance, but she had paused on her way out for some reason and was looking back at him.

With a note of concern in his voice, he asked, “Yes? Is everything alright, Supervisor Song?” 

Just recently he had heard from Assistant Manager Ahn about a worker from a nearby company who had passed away. The news had caused a renewed heaviness within the office, worsened by Manager Nam’s reaction to it all. 

Supervisor Song seemed to think for a moment, looking like she wasn’t sure if she should say what she wanted to, before ultimately deciding it was worth it and replying, “...Recently my friend suggested going to a noraebang to vent about work through singing. I went and it really did seem to help, if you ever have the time, Assistant Manager Kim…” She left the rest of her sentence hanging, implying that he should try it without outright telling him to do so.

The suggestion was so surprising that Iwol completely paused in his work. He had never actually gone to a noraebang himself, at most only attending when company dinners ended up there now and again. It was an idea he had never even considered before.

Not wanting to leave the woman without a response, he gave a nod paired with the best smile he could muster and said, “Thank you for the suggestion, Supervisor Song. I’ll have to try it out sometime,” saying it more out of politeness than anything else. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t like the idea, he just didn’t think he would ever really have the free time to do it. 

That evening, Iwol received two emails and five messages on his phone from Manager Nam before he even made it back to the door of his apartment. Any lingering thoughts he might have had about Supervisor Song’s suggestion were pushed from his mind as he got to work researching the nicest spas for Manager Nam’s wife and daughter to go to, while simultaneously working on his long-running project to clip every instance Choi Jeho looked directly at the camera.

With how busy he was both in and out of the office, it wasn’t until a month later that he recalled his conversation with his coworker. Iwol and Supervisor Song had seen each other since then, but she had never brought the topic up again, too busy herself with the extra tasks Manager Nam had dumped on her desk only a day later.

It was a rare evening where Iwol was able to leave the office at almost the officially labeled hour that the office closed. The night-time janitor had even commented on it as he left, cheering for him as he walked out. The two of them were more acquainted than most given how often Iwol was the last one left in the building.

Manager Nam himself had taken a vacation again, going for a week with his wife and daughter following the itinerary Iwol had put together for them a few weeks prior. It was one of the easier requests he could accommodate now, having become familiar with travel websites and deals after doing similar duties multiple times throughout the years. Aside from the random extra specifics Manager Nam would suddenly demand, it hadn’t taken as much time as it might have in the past.

As it was, Manager Nam had apparently promised his family that he wouldn’t use his phone for the week, so Iwol had found his inbox on both his phone and computer lighter than usual. He knew this brief respite would go right back to normal the moment the week was up, so while he did appreciate the abundance of free time he now had, he also knew better than to get used to it.

Walking along the streets, Iwol let his gaze wander around. With no task waiting for him to finish at home–aside from his ever-ongoing spArk assignments–it was a rare chance for him to not have to rush back to complete something. 

Of course, he was more than familiar with the area already. He had been coming here for years now and knew all of the cafes and restaurants due to both the company outings and lunch orders he had to manage countless times, but being able to simply look at things around him without a purpose for his job (and beyond it) was a change.

Over there was the restaurant he had booked for their outing two years ago. He could still remember how drunk Manager Nam had gotten; At some point, the man had started demanding that Iwol wear a face mask to work every day for some reason. Although the request was ridiculous, Iwol was used to such things, and simply agreed. He knew from experience that trying to say anything would only go poorly. Not that agreeing didn’t mean he would avoid being scolded, but it was a better outcome.

It wasn’t the first time Manager Nam had requested something odd from him while drunk, and he had learned from the first time not to actually comply with them afterwards. 

Shaking the memories from the forefront of his mind, Iwol’s gaze turned from the restaurant’s sign to the glowing one across the street. If he recalled correctly, that was the noraebang they had all been crammed into afterwards. Sitting in a noraebang with at least two hands’ worth of higher-ups so drunk they could barely form a coherent sentence had been a less than pleasant experience. 

As he gazed at the sign, however, it wasn’t only the memory of drunk older executives that came to mind.

Supervisor Song’s words from their conversation weeks ago resounded in Iwol’s head. He hadn’t thought much of the suggestion since then, but standing here now across from a noraebang on an evening where he didn’t have extra tasks to do, Iwol found himself thinking about it again.

Iwol’s main relationship with music had been his bass playing during university. At the time he had been in the small band club where he had learned and practiced with the instrument often. The other members had remarked more than once that Iwol had a good ear for music, but for Iwol, who had never had a particularly strong attachment to the medium, it was hard to judge.

Looking back, they had probably just been sunbae-nims doing their best to be nice to an amateur hoobae-nim. He hadn’t kept in contact with any of them since then, but they had all been kind and encouraging, even when he had often had to skip meetings due to his part-time jobs.

He still had his bass, although he hadn’t touched it since graduating. It was in the closet in his room somewhere, kept protected from anything that might harm it aside from dust and time. Iwol didn’t dislike the bass, he simply was too busy to play.

He tried to remember what he had felt in those moments back when he had used it with his band club, but it was hard to recall with the wear and tear of time. So much of his brain power was put into his job, it felt like other things had fallen to the wayside.

He did remember one thing, though. 

His noona had said that he looked happy when he talked about it.

The bass he had was one of the gifts he had gotten from her after he had told her about his band. She had been happy to hear that he was in a club and had taken up a hobby. Iwol hadn’t meant for her to take it as a signal to buy him an expensive instrument, but he also couldn’t turn it down when she had presented it to him. 

He had wanted to play it for her as a thank you at least once. It was the least he could do with how much she had spent on it. Iwol knew his sister had to work hard to get by, so spending so much on a present for him must have set her back at least some noticeable amount. 

That’s why it had been so hard to accept it, but he hadn’t been able to say no when she had insisted. Instead, he had resolved to pay her back, both monetarily and with a song. In the first place, she had seemed like she wanted to hear him play it, so that much would be the bare minimum. He had already been planning to pay her back for everything she had done, adding more to the debt he had towards her wasn’t a burden to him.

He had never gotten the chance, though.

His noona had been busy with her own job, so the time they could meet was few and far between. Then Iwol had graduated himself and gotten a job at Hanpyeong Industries, and before he knew it, he hadn’t touched his bass in years. By the time he had remembered, it was already too late. 

It was one of the countless regrets and apologies he had when it came to his noona.

What would she say in this moment, he wondered. His noona, who had tried to encourage him to leave Hanpyeong Industries countless times and invested in his musical hobby. If she had heard what Supervisor Song had suggested, wouldn’t she have insisted they both go together? She might have said she also wanted to vent about her job and dragged Iwol into the closest noraebang.

Feeling the cool air of early autumn brush against his cheek, Iwol made a decision.

Iwol sat down on the couch in the private room he had rented, looking around the spacious area. He had paid for only an hour, just enough time to give Supervisor Song’s suggestion a decent try. It was his first time in one of these places without having to wrangle rowdy higher-ups who stumbled through reading the lyrics on the screen. Surprisingly, the room was much larger than he had remembered it being.

The remote on the table caught his attention, ready and waiting patiently for him to notice it. Picking it up, he turned to the screen and began to search through the various songs available. There was a much wider array of offerings than he had expected. Usually, Iwol would have to put on whatever songs the businessmen he came with wanted, so it was his first time actually getting to look through everything they had.

Korean songs, Japanese songs, English songs…

As someone who wasn’t familiar with idols outside of the group he was forcibly knowledgeable about, Iwol found himself drifting more towards the rock songs on the list. He recognized some of the titles from his time in university. Quite a few of them were ones he had once practiced on the bass in their clubroom, even his sunbae-nim’s favorite one was here.

Staring at the title, he let the memory of the club members’ voices and playing flow through him. He still remembered the lyrics, so this one seemed like a safe bet. The screen would show the words as the instrumental went along, but it was always easier when you actually knew the song beforehand.

That’s why he now knew the most popular trot songs with men in their 60’s.

He wouldn’t be singing any trot today, however. 

Instead, Iwol scrolled to the familiar song he had been looking at and clicked on it. Almost immediately, the melody began to play. 

As someone who had played the bass portion of this song countless times, Iwol zeroed in on that part of the song. Having been listening blankly to the instrumental for a moment, the lyrics moving on the screen brought him back to the fact that he was here to sing and he quickly grabbed the microphone nearby and started to sing along.

At first, he was more intent on getting the words and tone correct. It was easy to hear when he was off with his notes, so he made sure to adjust his voice as he went along.

As he sang, Iwol found himself thinking more about the memories he had associated with this song. He recalled standing in the clubroom while the leader of their club helped show him the correct notes to play. It had been his sunbae-nim’s favorite song, so everyone had been determined to play it without any mistakes at least once before he graduated.

Iwol liked the song too, he even still listened to it now and again when he had the chance. Almost subconsciously, his fingers holding the microphone twitched, as though they were looking for the bass he wasn’t holding. Muscle memory, even now.

This was one of the songs he had been thinking about playing for his noona back then.

By the time the song was over, Iwol found he must have stood up at some point. The microphone in his hand somehow felt lighter than it had before, even if he could physically feel the amount of energy he had lost singing.

Staring at the screen for a moment, he found his thoughts come to a complete halt. It was like his brain had stopped working, and it was only a few seconds later that he found himself coming back to his senses.

With a small shake of his head to dislodge the lingering strange feeling, he looked back at the screen. Supervisor Song had said this would be a good activity to vent about work stress, but he didn’t feel like he had done that at all.

Maybe his mistake had been focusing on doing a rock song he had too many memories associated with.

Going back to the main menu, Iwol scrolled through the list of songs until he found what he was looking for. Actually, while he was familiar with rock and did enjoy it, his favorite genre was something else entirely. It was one that he felt would fit more in-line with what Supervisor Song had suggested.

Clicking on a song he recognized, Iwol raised the microphone up to his face, and started to sing.

Or, rather, scream.

Metal music was, without a doubt, the genre Iwol listened to the most in his free time. Whenever he was feeling particularly overwhelmed by work, he would put on the heavy songs and listen to the loud lyrics. Somehow, it seemed to make him feel better. Thinking about it again, he might already have been doing something similar to Supervisor Song’s suggestion in his own way.

As he yelled the lyrics, Iwol thought about how much work Manager Nam had made him do last week before he left. Doing interviews, payroll, going through employee resignation requests, organizing and resolving employee questions and complaints, updating their spreadsheets, making a compilation for Manager Nam’s daughter of moments where Center King Choi Jeho acted like a responsible eldest member which was almost impossible, cleaning up his family’s rented farm late at night, having to go investigate the best deals for the latest brand deal spArk had with a clothing company…

Endless times he had almost fainted at his desk flashed through his mind as he yelled. Imagining Manager Nam in front of him, he shouted the lyrics without holding back, feeling the bottled up emotions he had continuously forced down explode within him.

By the time the song had ended, Iwol felt himself panting, even more drained than he had been with the rock song. It was strange, even though he felt physically more tired with this one, he somehow felt lighter than before. Lighter than he could ever remember feeling, even.

Supervisor Song really had been right.

Quickly choosing the next song, another metal one he often would play when tired, he stared at the screen with rapt attention. This time, he imagined all of the times Manager Nam had made him stay at work when he was sick, then mocked him for coming in while being ill. For every moment that Manager Nam had yelled at him for trying to take medicine he needed to function, Iwol now yelled back through the song. 

It was an incredibly liberating feeling. One he had never felt before.

Of course, he would never actually yell at Manager Nam like this in those situations. He would stand up for his coworkers when he could, but actually screaming like this would just lead to more trouble for everyone involved.

For the rest of the hour, Iwol continued to choose metal songs he knew and sang them while remembering various things throughout his career. He would imagine Manager Nam standing in front of him most of the time, but sometimes he would think of spArk and pour out his frustrations towards them for making his life so difficult. Was it really asking too much for any of them to smile more than 2mm? 

By the time his allotted reservation time was up, Iwol was feeling drained, but oxymoronically, more energized than ever before. After cleaning up the room for the next guest and leaving the noraebang, he made his way to the subway and began his trip home.

Standing while holding one of the hanging straps, Iwol looked down at his one free hand and thought to himself. Even if he didn’t have time to go often, he should visit the noraebang now and again when he had the chance. 

***

Half a year had gone by since Iwol began to visit the noraebang. He didn’t go often, but on the days he managed to make it through his tasks earlier than usual and make it to the establishment without a message from Manager Nam by the time he arrived, he would stay for a bit and sing.

Work didn’t get better. Manager Nam was just as overbearing as ever, and the amount of employees coming to talk to Iwol about wanting to quit but not being able to hadn’t gone down even a little. He still went home to his apartment and edited photos of idols he could barely stand. He still planned trips and outings for Manager Nam. He still passed by the framed photograph of his noona every day. He still felt like he barely had room to breathe.

But that room had grown a bit. Even if only a bit.

Going to the noraebang didn’t resolve any of the issues in his life, but it did allow Iwol to vent somewhere outside of his own mind. 

He had meant to tell Supervisor Song that he had taken her advice, having wanted to thank her for her suggestion, but by the time he had gotten around to it, she somehow already knew. Iwol wasn’t entirely sure how, but she had come up to his desk one Tuesday near the end of the day and said that she was happy he had tried out her suggestion.

At the noraebang, the employees had started to recognize him and greet him with familiarity. Iwol usually chose the same room and always stayed for the same amount of time, so maybe it wasn’t too odd that they began to remember him. Even if he didn’t go often, he went enough that it was believable the employee who worked that shift could remember. That particular noraebang itself wasn’t the most popular location, either.

The employee he was used to had been working with a co-worker the last time he had gone. She had smiled when she saw him and already written his name down for the room he usually took, but her co-worker had given a strange reaction.

“That’s the guy who’s been–?”

The young man had started to ask something, but the girl working the desk had elbowed him hard before he could finish what he was saying.

Iwol wondered if he had become enough of a regular that they all knew who he was. It must be strange for an office worker to come in alone every time instead of with a group. 

“Ignore him, enjoy your time,” the employee had said with a smile, gesturing for Iwol to go further in.

When he had left that night after the hour he usually took was up, three messages from Manager Nam in his notifications, Iwol had noticed the newer employee watching him go. He had looked like he wanted to say something, fiddling with something in his hands beneath the desk, but Iwol had been in too much of a hurry to return back to his apartment to work on his new tasks to wait any longer.

As he had walked by, he thought he might have seen a notebook in the boy’s hands. Maybe he had wanted advice on getting a corporate job in the future?

It had been two weeks since then, and now Iwol found himself making his way towards the noraebang once again.

Throughout his time visiting the place, Iwol had noticed that he had an easier and easier time staying on the correct tune and pitch. Once he heard the actual songs and tried singing them, he could do better the next time. As a result, the score he received had risen with each song he sang.

He wondered what his sister would say if she had been here. 

“Is that…”

“He looks like he could be…”

“Do you think…”

The voices of a group of teenagers pulled Iwol from his thoughts, bringing his attention to the gaggle of them gathered around outside of a nearby convenience store. It was hard to hear exactly what they were saying from here, but it wasn’t like it was any of his business anyway. 

Turning his mind back towards his destination, Iwol adjusted his grip on his bag and looked forward towards the noraebang. Today had been an especially infuriating day, Manager Nam had seemed to make it a point to antagonize Assistant Manager Hwang for some reason. Iwol did his best to step in when he could, but it ultimately ended in him becoming the main target once more when Manager Nam had found one of the places he had hidden his headache medicine.

There were two separate spots Iwol had been keeping his stash ever since Manager Nam had first told Iwol off for taking them. With one of his bottles now confiscated, he would have to hope that the other one remained hidden. He hadn’t even been able to take any today after that, and his head had been pounding all day.

It was still manageable enough that he could do his work and walk around, but throughout the day the pain had sharpened more and more until it was just barely reaching beyond the threshold of what he could endure.

“Excuse me, are you the Metal Guy?”

One of the teenagers had come up while Iwol was walking more slowly, asking him something he couldn’t begin to dissect.

Confused, he apologized and excused himself.

“I think you have the wrong person, I’m sorry,” he said, keeping his tone polite. He didn’t know who or what a “Metal Guy” was, but he was certain it couldn’t have been him.

“Ah, okay, sorry,” the boy apologized, looking disappointed. 

While the teenager went back to talk to his friends again, Iwol finally made it to his destination and walked inside. The usual employee was at the counter again and waved him in, already writing his name down in his spot.

Once he was in the room once more, Iwol felt some of the tension in his body leave. While he did still have a headache, it wasn’t to the point that he felt like he couldn’t sing. He might have to stick with rock music over metal, though.

Scrolling through the songs, he picked one of the ones he often sang when his head was bothering him too much to do the yelling required for many of the metal songs he liked, and began his usual session of singing.

As always, time flew by while he stayed in the room. Before he knew it, it was already time to go. 

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Iwol found that he did still feel a bit better, even if he hadn’t imagined yelling at Manager Nam today. After tidying up the room as much as he could, he grabbed the bag he had placed on the seat next to him, and opened the door back out to leave.

To his surprise, a woman was standing there.

“Ah, I’m sorry. Were you waiting for this room?” he asked, thinking that he might not be the only one who had a preferred space. He had never seen this person before, but given how sporadic his visits were, it was completely possible that they both liked to use this room and just had never come at the same time.

However, against his expectations, she held out a business card instead.

“Hello, I’m Min Jukyung from UA. I happened to hear your singing, and you’re very talented. We’re currently scouting for more musical talents for our company. If you’re interested, please give us a call,” she said with a bow, keeping the card out for him to take.

Iwol almost thought something might have happened and he was hallucinating when he heard that.

A talent company was scouting him? A twenty-seven year old office worker at a noraebang? And from UA, of all places? 

“Ah…thank you, I’ll be sure to call if I can,” he said politely, taking the card and giving a bow in return.

There was no chance he was going to call the number on the card. Not only was he much too old for something like that, but he had no intention of leaving Hanpyeong Industries to become a singer. Iwol wasn’t a singer. Just because he came to a noraebang sometimes and understood how to correctly hit the notes to get a high score didn’t mean that he could become a celebrity.

Not to mention that he was all-too well aware of how poorly UA managed their talents. As someone who was well-informed about spArk, he had seen just how much the company had no idea how to actually promote and plan out comebacks for those under them. While he was aware that they had other soloists who did well, it didn’t seem worth it. Not to mention, there was a chance he might run into spArk if he accepted.

Iwol had absolutely no desire to ever meet spArk in any capacity. 

The card stayed unseen in one of his desk drawers after that. He forgot about it fairly quickly when the particularly busy season began at work, and before long, another few months had passed since then.

It was another one of the rare days that Iwol could go to the noraebang earlier than usual when he was next confronted by someone. Oddly, now and again people would ask him if he was the “Metal Guy” whenever they saw him walking to the noraebang, and he always had to explain that he was not.

Iwol still had no idea who this alleged person was, but it seemed like they were some sort of local small-time celebrity. Perhaps another noraebang regular he hadn’t met? 

While he was singing one of his usual rock songs, taking a break after three metal ones, he heard a knock on the door. Iwol, who made it a point to never order any food or drink when he came here by himself, wondered why someone would be knocking. Had something gone wrong with the sound-muffling and he was being too loud?

Stopping the song, he put down the microphone on the table and made his way to the door. With an apology already on his lips, he pulled it open and was shocked by what he saw.

On the other side of the door, standing with a cap and mask on, was someone he had never expected to see. 

Even with the disguise on, it was too obvious to Iwol who was standing before him. As someone who had been forced to analyze even the slightest angle of every spArk member to provide interesting trivia for Manager Nam’s daughter, it would have been stranger if he didn’t recognize this person.

Park Joowoo, one of the main singers from spArk, was standing in front of him.

Iwol had to resist the urge to slam the door shut and pinch himself. He was fairly certain this had to be some sort of terrible nightmare after an evening of editing spArk banners for the upcoming fan event, there was no other explanation that made any modicum of sense.

“...with you,” the other man spoke quietly, the mask making his words even more muffled than before.

“Ah, excuse me?” Iwol said on auto-pilot after snapping out of his disbelief, urging the other to repeat himself.

“Can I…Can I sing with you?” Park Joowoo asked, his quiet voice suddenly getting louder with what Iwol could only assume was him gathering his courage. It was well-known in the fandom that Park Joowoo was on the shy side, had he gathered up all of his resolve to ask like this?

No, in the first place, was it normal to ask a stranger if you could join their noraebang session? Iwol, who didn’t have much experience, was fairly certain it wasn’t, but he wasn’t entirely sure. Even beyond that, how and why was Park Joowoo, an idol, here and asking to sing with him? It didn’t make any sense, and once again he had to wonder if he might be passed out on his desk right now and imagining all of this.

His initial reaction was to say no. He had no desire to spend time with any member of spArk, especially when he was using this time to vent about the stress his job, and spArk themselves, put on him.

But then he looked at Park Joowoo’s face.

Not once could he remember ever seeing the man have that sort of look in his eyes. In every interview, in each music video, even in the few variety shows they were on, Park Joowoo had never looked this determined and passionate.

Iwol’s biggest criticism of spArk themselves was about how not a single member seemed to have passion. 

“...Please come in,” he said, opening the door wider and allowing the other man inside. It seemed like he would be paying for an extra hour today.

As Park Joowoo quietly walked in, Iwol closed the door behind him and justified his decision to himself. If he could help encourage this enthusiasm he was seeing, wouldn’t that make his own life easier? He had never expected a chance to quite literally stoke the fire within spArk on his own, but now that he was given the possibility to, he could make it so that at least one member would try on stage now.

He just had to figure out what exactly had made Park Joowoo ask to sing with him with eyes that looked like that.

Surprisingly, it was Park Joowoo who spoke first between them.

“...I’m sorry,” the younger man began, not meeting Iwol’s eyes as he continued, “I just think your voice fits rock well, and the song you picked is my favorite, so I…”

Did Park Joowoo like rock that much? As far as Iwol could recall, spArk had never done a rock song throughout their entire career. Could that be the reason behind this member's lack of passion? Why had he joined an idol group instead of a band, then?

Still, it wasn’t Iwol’s place to look too far into other’s circumstances without permission. Even if that other person was a member of spArk. 

Instead of answering, Iwol turned the program back on, turned on a second mic, and picked the same song he had just finished with. Without a word, he gave the microphone to Park Joowoo and followed along to the lyrics he now knew by heart.

Park Joowoo, who suddenly had a microphone handed to him, had no chance to say anything else as the music began to play and he scrambled to take his mask off. 

While he sang, Iwol watched Park Joowoo. After the first song was finished, he chose another rock song, and then a third. Eventually, he handed the remote over to Park Joowoo so that the other man could choose what he wanted to sing too.

As they went along, Park Joowoo seemed to grow more and more bright. His singing was excellent, and it had always been good, but never before had it sounded like this. There was true joy for music in his voice in a way that Iwol had never heard before in the tracks spArk released. His face, too, looked happier than Iwol had ever seen it.

For the next hour, they continued to sing different rock songs together. It should have been awkward with two men who didn’t really know each other suddenly spending time alone in a noraebang room, but somehow it wasn’t.

By the time the hour was up, Park Joowoo had lost any trace of his earlier nervousness and was actually smiling. It was a real, genuine smile. Iwol had to resist pulling out his phone and taking a picture for all of the Sparklers who begged on the forums to see a sight like this even once.

Park Joowoo seemed to suddenly remember the situation, as his nervousness came back and he turned towards Iwol. Bowing his head, he explained, “...I’m sorry. I’ve heard you here before and I always wanted to sing with you. We don’t know each other, and I suddenly…”

“It’s alright,” Iwol said, finding it remarkable that Park Joowoo’s personality really did seem the same both on and off camera. While he didn’t know why Park Joowoo would want to sing with him of all people, he would take the chance he had been given. If singing with Park Joowoo would help spArk, it was a small sacrifice to make.

Putting down his microphone, Iwol continued, “If you’d like, I wouldn’t mind singing with you again.” He didn’t reveal that he knew who Park Joowoo was, it would only make things more complicated. Besides, he didn’t want to explain how an adult man knew a less than popular boy idol group to a member of said group. 

Park Joowoo’s eyes had widened at the words, and the two exchanged phone numbers. 

Looking at the new contact in his phone, Iwol wondered if he had accidentally come to a noraebang frequented by UA. How else could he explain meeting not only a UA recruiter here, but a member of spArk as well? If it wasn’t too late, he would have switched where he went. 

From then on, the two would meet up now and again between their schedules to sing rock songs together. Iwol never revealed that he knew about spArk, and Park Joowoo never mentioned that he was an idol. It was an unspoken secret between them, one that one of them knew, and the other something they thought was unknown.

Despite that, they did talk about some things now and again. Iwol mentioned he played the bass in band club during his university days, and Park Joowoo had looked even more excited than that first day he had knocked on the door. 

While Iwol didn’t bring his bass to the noraebang, he had promised to record himself playing for Park Joowoo. It had been an odd feeling, pulling out his old instrument. The memory of his noona giving it to him had replayed in his mind the moment he had touched it, and he had almost given up on the ordeal entirely if not for Park Joowoo’s message of excitement ringing in his pocket at the moment.

Pulling it out, he instead focused on the fact that Park Joowoo had actually looked happier in recent photos and videos. 

Like that, another handful of months passed until the next sudden interruption crashed through Iwol’s visits to the noraebang. It was during one of his visits with Park Joowoo, something they tried to have at least once a month, that another knock had come on the door while they were singing.

Somehow, Iwol felt like he already knew what would be on the other side of the door before he even opened it.

“Hyung! You–Huh?”

Two young men, identifiable by this avid spArk researcher as Lee Cheonghyeon and Kang Kiyeon wearing caps and masks, stood in front of him. It was one thing to have one member of spArk with him, but bumping that up to three?

“You two…?” Park Joowoo asked, having come up behind Iwol’s shoulder at some point during his analysis of the idols in front of him.

Lee Cheonghyeon and Kang Kiyeon were soon shuffled into the room, more people joining in on what Iwol had originally considered his private time to vent. Not just any people either, more members of spArk. Was this actually secretly a UA-affiliated building?

Iwol decided to sit down on the far side from where the three idols were congregating. It wasn’t really his situation to deal with, and he didn’t really want to involve himself, either. While it would be good if he could somehow also ignite passion in either of them with this, judging by how Lee Cheonghyeon seemed more curious than excited and Kang Kiyeon had visibly taken a step back when he saw Iwol open the door, their appearance didn’t seem to be for the same reason that Park Joowoo’s had been.

“We were wondering where you’ve been going off alone this whole time. You usually only go to the market for CDs, so we decided to follow you,” Lee Cheonghyeon explained, apparently having decided that if Park Joowoo didn’t need to wear a disguise around Iwol, he didn’t either.

Seeing the idol’s bare face, Iwol recalculated just how handsome Lee Cheonghyeon was in his mind. The level he was seeing in person proved that the camera couldn’t always capture the pure beauty of whoever it was pointed towards. It was a known thing in the fandom that Lee Cheonghyeon, the Cutie Pretty Visual Lee Cheonghyeon, had a handsome face. It had landed him solo commercials on more than one occasion, and was one of the few things keeping spArk from complete obscurity.

Of course, there was the issue with the pain killers that had happened, but Iwol didn’t judge the other man for it. Out of all of spArk, Lee Cheonghyeon was generally one of the least troublesome. He had even smiled at the camera often in the past, although that had been years ago now.

“We followed you when we saw you leaving,” Kang Kiyeon added, looking around the room curiously.

Kang Kiyeon was another member who seemed to have lost all of his passion. After an ankle injury early in his career, he had never been able to dance the same. Iwol had seen his fans lament the situation and curse UA for not properly managing their artists countless times.

“I…” Park Joowoo started, then seemed to hesitate. Iwol wondered if he was having trouble admitting that he was singing a different genre of music with a random stranger over practicing their songs with his groupmates.

Stepping in, Iwol said, “We sing rock music together sometimes,” pretending like he had no idea who they were. He never thought that he would have a conversation with spArk, and willingly at that. 

“Hyung, you come here to sing rock music?” Lee Cheonghyeon asked Park Joowoo, turning his attention back to the other man.

Park Joowoo nodded and explained, “I always wanted to play in a band, but UA…”

It sounded like a long-held dream he was finally admitting. Could this be called progress, too? Iwol didn’t know how the other spArk members would take it, but Park Joowoo actually saying something about his feelings to them might mean a change in their group dynamics. Hopefully for the better.

What Iwol didn’t expect was for Park Joowoo to continue to say, “...Iwol-hyung plays the bass, too. We meet once a month to sing together.”

At some point he and Park Joowoo had exchanged names, and Iwol had pretended not to recognize the idol’s. After a few meetings, Park Joowoo had asked if he could call him hyung, and Iwol had acquiesced, taking it as a sign that Park Joowoo was getting more comfortable and happy with the situation. In turn, that would mean Park Joowoo was getting happier in general and would show it more on camera. It was a small price to pay for something like that, and truthfully Iwol didn’t mind.

It wasn’t like Park Joowoo was Choi Jeho or something. If that guy had asked Iwol if he could call him hyung…

“Wow, really! I’m Lee Cheonghyeon, it’s nice to meet you, hyung,” Lee Cheonghyeon said, greeting Iwol in a friendly manner. Evidently he had decided that if Park Joowoo could tell Iwol his name, it was safe for him to do the same. Before Iwol could greet him back, the younger man added on, “Can we join you guys, too?”

Kang Kiyeon, who had no say in the matter, at the least also nodded along and introduced himself, “I’m Kang Kiyeon…”

It was clear that he was more wary of Iwol possibly recognizing them, but for Iwol, who had twenty-eight years of experience suppressing his emotions, it was a simple thing for him to continue to act like he didn’t recognize them.

“I’m Kim Iwol, it’s nice to meet you. If Joowoo is alright with it, I don’t mind,” he said, holding onto the thought that this might help spArk better their relationships with each other. He wasn’t entirely thrilled with his trips to the noraebang now becoming something like impromptu spArk member meetups, but he kept reminding himself of the long-term benefits. And of the fact that at least Choi Jeho hadn’t shown up yet.

Lee Cheonghyeon seemed to get excited then, a small spark of interest in his eye that Iwol hadn’t seen since the early days of spArk appearing once more as he chatted about pulling out his old music programs and practicing with the digital instruments. Iwol didn’t know how any of that worked, but it sounded like Lee Cheonghyeon had tried his hand at producing at some point.

Had UA seriously not supported a self-producing member of their idol group in an era where self-production was almost considered a necessity for a group to succeed?

Feeling his blood pressure rise at the thought, Iwol instead turned to watch the spArk members discuss which instruments they would play for their “band”. There seemed to be some sort of misunderstanding here. Iwol was not actually in a band with Park Joowoo, they just sang rock songs at a noraebang sometimes and he had sent a few recordings of him playing the bass to the younger man, but he didn’t feel the need to correct it.

If becoming a band or even just doing a band-concept was what helped spArk actually show some modicum of passion, then he would support it. 

That didn’t mean that he was looking forward to going to work, meeting up with spArk at a noraebang when he had time, and then going home to act as a proxy fan for said group, though. He thought he was sick of spArk already and had expected those feelings to worsen the more he met with Park Joowoo, but somehow, that hadn’t happened.

He had figured that it was because he was dealing with one member, a more quiet member at that, versus the more front-facing ones. Now, he would have not just one, but three members to meet up with. He had to make sure not to show his frustrations with them whenever he saw them.

Somehow, it felt like what had been an activity to vent about work had ended up becoming even more work…

From then on, his one-on-one meetings with Park Joowoo somehow turned into three-on-one meetings with all of the younger members of spArk. Given that there were five members of spArk in total, he had over half of spArk in his contacts now.

For Iwol, who had always had a sparse contact book, they took up a large chunk of his phone contacts now. Of course, the three of them combined still couldn’t beat Manager Nam, but it was close.

Lee Cheonghyeon had seemed to take to him for some reason, the earlier more sporadic messages the man sent turned into almost daily ones. On the other hand, Kang Kiyeon, who had seemed intimidated by Iwol at first for some reason, ended up slowly becoming more comfortable over time.

They even had a group chat to send recordings of their parts that they made for the songs they had chosen. 

This new status-quo continued for only a month and a half before yet another invaded the noraebang room. This one didn’t go as smoothly as the last.

“...”

“...”

Jeong Seongbin sat awkwardly on the seat, Park Joowoo between him and Lee Cheonghyeon.

It wasn’t surprising that the leader of spArk had noticed 3/5ths of their members disappearing somewhere together, so Iwol had been expecting it to some degree. While spArk may not be doing well, it was known among Sparklers that Jeong Seongbin had often done his best. Out of all of the members, he was the one that had the best reputation among fans.

That didn’t seem the same within the group, though.

Although Iwol didn’t know the reason, the leader and Lee Cheonghyeon were extremely awkward around each other. What had started as Jeong Seongbin politely asking after his members–his “friends” in his words–had turned into this tense silence after Park Joowoo had once again explained what they were doing.

It wasn’t surprising to find that spArk had internal discord, speaking honestly. What was more surprising was the fact that it was between these two members in particular.

Still, things couldn’t stay like this. Iwol could feel all of the progress he had made with these three starting to drain away the more they sat here. For Iwol, who was used to uncomfortable and tense scenes, it was easy to throw himself forward to try to amend the situation.

“Would you like to try singing a song together, Seongbin-ssi?” Iwol asked, picking up two microphones. 

“Oh, I…” Jeong Seongbin started, obviously surprised at the sudden question. He looked unsure of whether or not he should accept given the circumstances, but with a light nudge and nod from Park Joowoo, seemed to settle on agreeing, “...If it’s alright with you.”

Iwol searched his memory for what songs he could recall being listed as Jeong Seongbin’s favorite. UA had a horrible habit of neglecting to appeal to fans’ desire to know more about their idols, so it was hard to find out things like that. Still, for Iwol, there was an answer he knew.

Scrolling through the songs, he picked one he had never played before and waited for the music to start.

It was a ballad he had heard once or twice before. Iwol wouldn’t say he was necessarily a fan of the genre, but he knew for a fact that it was Jeong Seongbin’s favorite.

The younger man seemed surprised by the choice, understandable since he had been told they came here to sing rock music, but didn’t question it. Instead, he looked at Iwol with curious eyes. In answer, Iwol simply picked up the microphone and began to sing.

After a few moments, Jeong Seongbin picked up his own microphone and followed along after.

At first, Jeong Seongbin sang more quietly than Iwol. Iwol, whose specialty was decidedly not ballads, was doing the best he could. Thankfully, what he had been hoping for ended up happening about one minute into the song.

As it went along, Jeong Seongbin seemed to get more and more into the music, to the point that he went from keeping his voice below Iwol’s to almost dominating it. Iwol, for his part, switched to providing a more supportive role than trying to sing the lyrics in full. In truth, he didn’t really want to sing this song. With his goal achieved, he had no problem dropping off into the background.

After the first ballad, he played another, and then a third. 

Shifting his gaze to Lee Cheonghyeon, Iwol was pleased to see that the awkward look on his face had changed into a more attentive and pensive one. The way he was looking at Jeong Seongbin, Iwol knew that they had reached the same conclusion.

Jeong Seongbin hadn’t been singing to the fullest either. 

It was obvious listening to how he sang the ballad and comparing it to how he sang in the tracks released by spArk. He was good, undoubtedly so, but the amount of emotion and confidence in his voice was incomparable between the two. 

Park Joowoo wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been able to put his all into the music spArk made, it seemed.

While Iwol may not know what had happened between Lee Cheonghyeon and Jeong Seongbin, seeing Jeong Seongbin’s passion seemed to have had some sort of influence on whatever it was that the younger member thought of the group’s leader. 

After the last song came to an end, Jeong Seongbin audibly caught his breath, the rest of the room watching him in silence. After a few moments, he looked as though he suddenly became aware of their gazes, and began, “I–”

“Hyung,” Lee Cheonghyeon said, cutting him off. Jeong Seongbin immediately shut his mouth, turning his eyes towards the other man. The two looked at each other in silence for a few beats. Then, Lee Cheonghyeon asked, “...Do you want to join our band?”

There still was no actual band, but Iwol was at least happy to see the smile that bloomed across Jeong Seongbin’s face once the surprise had passed. He quickly agreed, and now they had another new regular to their noraebang meetings. 

This was another expression that the camera never seemed to have caught. Once again, Iwol lamented not being able to take a picture for the Sparklers online.

What had started as Iwol sending Park Joowoo recordings of him playing parts of rock songs on his bass had somehow transformed into an active group chat filled with pictures and videos. Iwol continued to send short clips of him playing the bass, but the other four talked in there more than he had ever heard them do in a single video throughout all of his years of proxy fangirling.

Both Park Joowoo and Jeong Seongbin stuck to vocals, but Kang Kiyeon had decided to learn the guitar and was actively sharing his progress with all of them. Why he was sharing it in the group chat when the four of them all lived together, Iwol didn’t know, but it was another example of how spArk had had potential this whole time. 

This was shown nowhere more stronger than with Lee Cheonghyeon, who was undoubtedly the most active in the chat. Not only did he send clips of him playing the keyboard, but he would share compositions he came up with and ask for opinions on them often.

Iwol wanted to grab him and ask why he was only using these talents now, and for a situation that would never result in spArk gaining attention from it, but he also knew that UA likely had never properly supported the younger man’s attempts in the past. It was an unforgivable sin, especially given how genuinely talented Lee Cheonghyeon was.

The more he spoke with the four of them, the more Iwol felt an uncomfortable realization creeping up on him. 

While he did still hate spArk and the work that he had to do for Manager Nam involving them, he didn’t…entirely dislike meeting up with them. It had started off as being all to help reignite the passion in the members who approached him in hopes of making his job easier so that he didn’t have to scan through countless hours of footage to find even the slightest glimmer of joy from any of them, but now he found himself actively reading the chat messages they sent.

It was all for the sake of his original goal, but he did find himself stopping and realizing just how far things had come when Lee Cheonghyeon had privately messaged him asking for advice about dealing with parents who wouldn’t support your dreams. 

For Iwol, whose parents hadn’t even cared enough about him to even give him anything to eat besides turning a blind eye to his noona taking expired ramen out of the pantry to share with him, it was something he had never considered before. Still, calling upon his experience interacting with employees who all had different struggles he couldn’t necessarily relate to, he gave the best advice he could.

After that conversation, Lee Cheonghyeon had been even more friendly towards him than ever before. It seemed to have a domino effect on the members, and before long, any awkwardness or discomfort with his presence had all but vanished.

Being surrounded by and accepted among four members of spArk was something that Iwol had never even considered before, and certainly not something he would have thought he wanted before. Yet, actually interacting with them, listening to them, and seeing how they behaved–more and more, Iwol was finding that his frustrations with those he had seen from beyond a screen melted away when he knew them on a personal basis.

That didn’t mean that he stopped hating Choi Jeho, though.

And of course, just when he had started to come around to accepting that these four members of spArk might not be as bad as he had once thought and that he may even possibly like them, the fifth had to arrive.

It was clear not a single one of them had expected Choi Jeho to show up to the noraebang one day. Within only 0.23 seconds, Iwol was able to tell that Center Emperor Choi Jeho behaved exactly the same both on and off camera. 

“Hyung, you’re here..? Is something wrong?” Jeong Seongbin had asked, coming up behind Iwol who was staring at the bane of his existence on the other side of the door to their usual room. Iwol had made it a point to always answer the door, both because it was his name that was written down at the front desk, and because it would cause less trouble if a regular office worker met someone face-to-face versus a celebrity who may or may not be recognized.

Choi Jeho, with his unfortunately chiseled face, looked further in the room at the other members of spArk paused in their activities. It was obvious at a glance that the five of them had been singing songs together. Lee Cheonghyeon and Kang Kiyeon were still smiling while holding microphones, and Park Joowoo had his phone out, clearly having been recording them.

Iwol wasn’t sure how the other man would react, knowing he was the only one being left out. From what he had observed, he would expect him not to care at all and just leave. At most, he was probably just wondering where all of the others had gone when they all lived together and were now suddenly going out at the same time.

“Do you want to join us?” Jeong Seongbin tried again after getting no response, and Iwol had to restrain himself from covering the younger man’s mouth. He could tolerate meeting up with the other members of spArk, but if Choi Jeho were added to the mix, he didn’t think he could take it.

Holding his breath and praying to hear “no”, Iwol turned back to observe the Center Emperor’s reaction.

After a beat, Choi Jeho replied, “Okay.”

Never before had Iwol had to struggle so hard to keep himself from falling to the floor and begging someone to reconsider.

For the first few meetings since then, Choi Jeho mostly sat in the back and watched silently. More than once, Iwol had to stop himself from turning around and yelling at him for being so rude with his staring. Why the guy had even decided to show up when he wasn’t interested in participating was beyond him. He had also been added to the group chat, but hadn’t said a word.

This was all supposed to be to help spArk get their passion back, if one member just sat there, he might as well just leave instead.

That all changed when Lee Cheonghyeon sent a video of the rest of the members essentially forcing Choi Jeho to sit behind a drum set and play. Aggravatingly enough, he was naturally good at it. Iwol wanted to curse as he wrote it down as a “fun trivia fact” and sent it off for Manager Nam’s daughter that night.

Somehow or other, Iwol was the one who had the least amount of time among a group of idols and one single office worker. They would still try to meet up once a month, but the realization had truly come to him when he received a message one day from Jeong Seongbin asking if they could meet somewhere else instead of their usual location.

When he got to the address he had been sent, a small rentable studio not far from the noraebang, he had stopped when he saw what was waiting for him.

Every member of spArk had somehow procured brand new instruments. Kang Kiyeon had a fresh guitar in hand along with a collection of different colored picks he was looking through, while Lee Cheonghyeon had dragged a keyboard in from somewhere. Even Choi Jeho had a drum set in front of him.

Not a single one of them were the same as the ones in the videos up until now. Just how much had they focused on this side project, and why did not a single one of them put even an iota of that same effort and interest into their official work as a group?

Resisting the urge to grab at the back of his neck, Iwol met a smile from Park Joowoo. Both he and Jeong Seongbin had brand-new microphones in front of them.

“Hyung, we’ve been practicing a lot and wanted to show you how much we’ve improved,” Jeong Seongbin explained. Then, the five of them began to play a familiar song. It was the same one he had first sung with Park Joowoo, the younger man’s favorite one.

They were shockingly good. To the point that Iwol had to wonder how it was possible that this music was being played by the same group who had been dressed up as cyborgs half-heartedly singing along to pop music in their official releases.

Iwol had certainly seen progress in the group chat, but he hadn’t expected this. They had said some nonsense about wanting to catch up to him since he had the most experience, but just how much time had they put into this? Once again, Iwol had to wonder why none of them had done anything even remotely similar for their actual idol work. 

By the time the song was done, every member except that guy Choi Jeho had a smile on their face. It was obvious just how happy they were with their accomplishment, but Iwol couldn’t make sense of it. If they all preferred rock music so much more, why did they become idols in the first place?

“Hyung, actually, we have something to confess to you.” Park Joowoo was surprisingly the one to speak once the last note had finally faded into the air.

Iwol had a feeling that he knew what that confession was, and he already felt a headache at the thought of it. Or, well, a worse headache than his usual one. Did he have any more medication on him right now? Usually he just kept his bottles in the office and in his bathroom.

Exchanging a look with the other members, Park Joowoo took a deep breath and confessed, “Actually…we’re all members of an idol group. We didn’t want to trouble you, so we never said anything. I’m sorry for deceiving you.”

The sentiment might possibly have been considered something nice, if only Iwol hadn’t known from the very beginning and hated their group with as much passion as he had been trying to instill within them.

Jeong Seongbin took over from there, continuing while Iwol just stood in silence, “Our group is likely going to disband soon, but we were wondering–”

“--If you’d make a YouTube channel with us!” Lee Cheonghyeon cut-in. “We like doing the band with you more, but we probably won’t be able to show our faces until our contracts are fully finished,” he explained.

Iwol almost fainted at those words. Disband? SpArk was about to disband? He subtly pinched himself to make sure this wasn’t some horrible nightmare. No, it was real. Too real. 

The whole point of all of this had been for him to get them all to care more about their idol work and make his job easier. Instead, they were going to completely quit and leave him to deal with the inevitable outrage Manager Nam vented on him about his daughter’s favorite group disappearing.

Iwol had been wondering why, while they did look happier, not a single member of spArk seemed any more invested in their idol work than before. Now he realized it was because their contract was ending and they had planned to throw it all away to make a YouTube channel for their band.

Did that mean Iwol had actually encouraged them to quit instead of caring more about spArk? Had he actually done the exact opposite of what he had intended to do?

Imagining the upcoming days that he would have to face at the hands of Manager Nam, he felt himself tremble. Whether it was with rage or something else, he didn’t even know anymore. The blood rushing in his ears was overwhelming, he felt more light-headed than he had when Manager Nam had screamed at him for turning on the A/C on the hottest day of the year. All of the hours he had put into editing these guys, the time and effort in trying to make a banner that fit all of them in it, the fan edits, the compilations, the research–

Looking at all of their faces, all watching him with trepidation, he felt the urge to pour out everything he had experienced here and now.

And yet, what ended up coming out of his mouth instead was: “Alright.”

Yeah.

In the end, despite it all, he had come to actually, begrudgingly…like these punks. 

They did end up making a YouTube channel, although none of them showed their faces in any of the videos. It was surprisingly successful, all things considered. While they may not rake in millions of views, their videos did get a couple thousand now and again. 

It was incredible that no one recognized any of them from their voices or the visible parts of them, but when Iwol thought about it, maybe it wasn’t so strange. SpArk hadn’t been a particularly popular group in the first place, and the energy they put into performing in their videos versus as an idol group was like night and day.

SpArk disbanded not long after, and while Iwol did have to contend with Manager Nam venting his frustrations at seeing his daughter’s disappointment on him, it wasn’t really anything new. In fact, now that spArk was gone as a group, he didn’t have to do fanwork for them anymore. Manager Nam had tried to get Iwol to look into what Choi Jeho was doing now at his daughter’s behest, but Iwol had feigned ignorance, citing that it was almost impossible and illegal to monitor someone now considered a regular civilian.

It wasn’t too hard to do when there really was nothing in the news. The only reason Iwol knew anything was because he had come to personally know spArk now, and he wasn’t about to reveal that fact. 

He also did end up admitting to spArk that he had known who they were all along. It had come up when one of the members had seen a notification from Manager Nam ordering him to make a goodbye event for them. It had been embarrassing to admit to them that he had been forced to proxy fangirl for them by his boss. He wasn’t sure if they would believe it at first or think he was just some strange stalker fan lying, but the thousands of messages going back years had shown to be proof enough. 

Iwol had, admittedly, ended up revealing a bit too much about what he had endured through that period in an effort to convince them. And to let out some of his frustrations at the source, if he were truly being honest with himself.

They had taken it surprisingly well, all things considered. Lee Cheonghyeon had ended up even making all of them take a photo together that could be used as a banner with every member shown. Iwol just wasn’t sure why he was included in it.

Looking at his phone background, which had been made that picture at the behest of the younger members, Iwol considered how much had changed since that day he had taken Supervisor Song’s advice. He had never imagined that going to vent through singing at a noraebang would somehow end up with him meeting spArk and creating an amateur rock band with them.

He wished his noona could see their videos.

He still regretted that he had never been able to play for her. She had also, at one point, commented that she thought he and spArk could be friends if given the chance after he had ranted about having to research them for Manager Nam again one day. At the time he had thought it was a ridiculous notion, but now he had to admit that she had been right.

Just like she always was.

Iwol half-heartedly clicked around the Excel sheet he had been working on. He was still working at Hanpyeong Industries even now. That was another thing she had been trying to change. He could still remember how much his noona had tried to get him to move to another job. 

His thoughts were halted when he noticed a notification on his phone. Reading it, he couldn’t help the faint smile that broke across his face.

[Hyung, we hit 10,000 subscribers! Come celebrate with us this weekend, we’ll make Jeho-hyung buy a cake!]

That guy was surprisingly serious about food, so it did make sense to leave a task like that to him. Unlocking his phone, he sent a quick reply agreeing, mentally marking it off in his calendar. He would have to add it to his actual one later.

Looking back at the computer screen, Iwol let his thoughts settle once more.

He was still working at Hanpyeong Industries despite what his noona had wanted. It wasn’t something he could really change now, and it still wasn’t easy, but somehow, he felt like he could breathe a bit more than he could before. 

That was more than enough to keep him going for now.