Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols

Chapter 25: Debut Evaluation (1)

Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols

Chapter 25: Debut Evaluation (1)

Translate to

Awesome.

It wasn’t the most dignified word choice for a proper adult — a working adult at that.

But it was the only word that captured how I felt right now.

The Spark brats who shredded the February evaluation like it was my resignation letter were flying around as if they’d been on a survival audition show.

As for Choi Jeho and Lee Cheonghyeon, they’ve always been good — nothing to add there.

The growth of Jeong Seongbin and Kang Giyeon was remarkable.

First, Seongbin earned extra points just for looking more confident than usual.

He’s a kid who’s good at both singing and dancing to begin with, so simply showing what he’d prepared with crisp clarity let you feel the depth he’d built.

And Kang Giyeon.

He still had the habit of trembling hands and a stiff face during the interview, but he didn’t make a single mistake in today’s evaluation.

In dance — his specialty — there wasn’t the slightest hesitation.

It was a showcase that rewarded all those nights rolling around the studio until the moon flashed bright. The dance teacher’s eyes were already moist.

You never know the result until you open the envelope, sure, but this one you didn’t need to open.

That punk Kang Giyeon hit at least a solid medium success.

Meanwhile, Park Juu — who picked his song just a week ago — even got told by the vocal teacher, “There aren’t any weak spots anymore.”

Am I supposed to like this or not?

My original goal was to narrow the distance with the Spark members even a little and show potential. I needed to show promise to prove my usefulness.

But every time I tried to take a small leap, these guys went and did a pole vault, and my challenge died before it even started.

“Hyung, fighting!”

When my turn came, Lee Cheonghyeon, sitting next to me, whispered softly.

Thanks for the cheer. With you guys bringing songs, dancing well, and singing well, I don’t know if I’ll survive.

Already Iwol’s turn.

Min Ju Gyeong, of the Artist Management Team in the Management Division, checked the last remaining profile and the February evaluation sheet.

He’d been at UA the shortest — a two-month trainee — but even among trainees known for diligence, Kim Iwol was quietly acknowledged as the kid who turned off the studio lights every night.

Diligent people win favor on attitude alone.

Min Ju Gyeong didn’t think that just because he was the one who’d scouted him; based on the attitude Kim Iwol had shown so far, he thought the kid deserved support.

I hope he does well.

The existing trainees had at least a year more trainee life than Kim Iwol. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

So the company had his chances at joining the debut lineup versus the next group pegged at about forty–sixty.

It’d be easier for him to work if he built up skill and then debuted... but no one knows when the next group will come.

Thinking about an idol market where youth itself is a weapon, Min Ju Gyeong wanted to debut Kim Iwol as soon as possible.

If he could cover one person’s worth of vocals, it wasn’t out of the question.

If he could just do sub vocal...

Cheering him on inwardly, Min Ju Gyeong looked at Kim Iwol, standing as straight and neat as last month.

Sitting beside him, Oh Eun asked Iwol,

“You picked the same song for both vocals and dance?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

At his answer, Min Ju Gyeong checked the song list.

It was a famous boy group’s song. But the title felt unfamiliar.

An album track?

He thought it was a pretty good choice.

If the original’s image is strong, no matter how well you cover it, you get buried under the original — all the more so if you’re just a trainee.

In the few evaluations he’d had, Kim Iwol had always made good picks.

Which brought back something Oh Eun, one of the evaluators at a past meeting, had said.

He seems to have good sense. And he works hard.

Min Ju Gyeong agreed.

An idol group needs what people call the brainy type, whether for fan service or variety.

If Iwol fills that role, our kids will have one less worry.

Though his experience was short, his age as the eldest and his upright demeanor made Min Ju Gyeong think it’d be a waste to leave him sitting for years.

But he didn’t have long to indulge in sentiment.

“Then how about you sing while you dance?”

Until now, vocals and dance had been judged separately and scored, but the CEO had handed down an unprecedented mission: if it’s the same song anyway.

UA aimed to make a group that could obviously do live performance, but singing while dancing requires things that are categorically different from standing and singing.

Breath control is one thing — there’s so much more to juggle!

Min Ju Gyeong /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ was appalled.

Every trainee would feel the same, but right now was a crucial moment for Kim Iwol.

All the more reason he deserved the same opportunity the others got, after he’d surely trained hard for a full month.

Why, of all times, did this have to happen on Iwol’s turn? As he fretted, his gaze fell on the wall clock in the corner of the studio.

There were barely ten minutes left until the meeting scheduled for the new idol group launch.

On projects where many people collaborate, even one delayed meeting causes a lot of trouble.

He knew that... but still.

For a trainee with a long future ahead, this kind of important chance, at least, ought to be guaranteed.

Just as he was about to square up to his employer and say, That doesn’t seem right! —

The move came first from Iwol’s side.

“Understood.”

...he said.

And four minutes later, Min Ju Gyeong realized he’d worried for nothing.

When the showcase that felt like an eternity ended, only one thought remained in my head.

So this works.

I picked a famous group’s song for a clear reason: UA pursues the “textbook idol” look.

You could tell from how they demanded a strongly K-pop-colored song from Park Juu and how they put out the debut album with the standard rookie group youth concept.

If I got hung up on avoiding deductions and picked some track only I knew, there was a good chance I’d be judged as lacking the passion and boldness expected of a new hire.

Instead of titles with high notes and intense sections, I chose an album track with a more relaxed vocal line.

All so I’d look suited for a sub vocal position.

As for the song’s low name recognition, the group’s fame could make up for it.

If it’s a number they’ve only performed once or twice at concerts or on music shows, there’s barely any direct comparison to the original.

In other words, riding the name value and slipping through.

There was another perk to album tracks.

Because they often show up as special stages, they’re frequently easier choreographically than titles.

If we covered it as a group, people would cry foul that we were sipping the sweet juice.

But if I sang it solo, start to finish, the calculus changes.

Showing you can handle alone a song usually split among many is an undeniable plus for individual ability.

To show I could do both dance and vocals as a one-man portion, I had to present them simultaneously — and dramatically.

For example... taking what should have been two separate evaluations and, thanks to a sudden suggestion, performing them together.

A trainee who’s only been here two months, preparing idols for the first time.

At a timing like that, how would it feel to listen twice to a song whose difficulty and tempo didn’t look that tough?

Especially with only a little time left before a meeting where a bunch of people would gather?

People who think time is money — especially the exec types — will think like this:

Couldn’t we just see it all at once?

Worst case, they can say they’ll factor in that it was judged differently.

If it goes well, even better.

I could predict this development somewhat by reviewing how UA made decisions, from stories Spark had told on broadcasts.

I’d also checked the week’s conference-room bookings at UA through the manager, Min Ju Gyeong, and other folks around us.

Because everything aligned, the evaluation flowed in the best direction among the scenarios I’d assumed.

Thank goodness. I wouldn’t have to use “Operation 21: Milk the backstory to evoke pity and volunteer for a self-slave contract.”

I did grind myself half to death until both singing and dancing worked...

Completion was the precondition, so there was no dodging the path of hardship.

Once again, all I could do was hope my attendance-management buff would apply and give me extra points.

Now I just have to show the right amount of image and bow out.

Balance matters when you’re scheming.

If nothing shows, you fail to appeal; if you reveal the blueprint from one to ten, you look like you toyed with them.

Best is that they don’t realize their reaction was induced and simply judge that you picked well.

I quickly scanned the judges’ faces. The execs whispering among themselves and marking their sheets looked purely satisfied.

It was the moment my small, precious step forward ended successfully.

“Adolescence really is something. Last month and this month look different again.”

At UA’s CEO Yoon Hyeonju’s comment, everyone who’d attended the month-end evaluation agreed.

“They were especially good this time. Maybe because we told them we’re narrowing down the debut team?”

“When you’ve got motivation, you can focus more.”

“Giyeon doing well really surprised me. I worried he’d get even more nervous under pressure.”

Song Junhwan, the dance trainer who always treated Kang Giyeon like a sore finger, looked like a burden had fallen from his heart.

“I heard he practiced with Iwol every night.”

Manager Chanyeong, who checks trainees’ ins and outs, spoke up.

“Really?”

“Giyeon’s a grinder. Oh right — Ju Gyeong, did you listen to the audio Cheonghyeon sent?”

“Yes. It was good.”

“Right? I heard they even took it to the A&R team.”

In an environment where the long trainee grind can breed complacency, the trainees finding fresh drive was the best news imaginable.

They were always hard-working, but lately their practice had been proactive enough for staff and trainers to feel the difference.

Realizing he wasn’t the only one thinking that, Yoon Hyeonju considered seriously.

What’s improving the trainees’ atmosphere?

From the company’s standpoint, they needed a clear reason.

And they had to lock that reason down — to keep the current good flow going.

Stacking the six evaluation sheets neatly, Yoon Hyeonju asked the excited staff,

“What do you think was the decisive trigger for the change in our trainees’ atmosphere?”

With the CEO’s question, a two-hour brainstorming marathon kicked off in the conference room.

How did this chapter make you feel?

One tap helps us surface trending chapters and recommend titles you'll actually enjoy — your vote shapes You may also like.