I didn’t “roughly” know why Lee Cheonghyeon was picked to appear in the MV—I knew it exactly.

Because he mentioned it in passing on an entertainment show early after debut.

“Cheonghyeon-ssi, I heard you debuted first through a music video?”

“Yes! I appeared in senior Jang Junhu’s ‘Time Gone By’—we’re in the same company!”

“But among the trainees, the reason you were chosen was... because you’re handsome?”

“I heard later from a staff member that, yes, that’s what it was!”

They picked him purely on looks—literally.

But sending Lee Cheonghyeon to that MV wasn’t a very wise choice.

He can handle most things decently, but compared to the other trainees, he had relatively less experience performing something in front of people.

Choi Jeho and Kang Giyeon had been entering every competition they could since they were young.

Jeong Seongbin and Park Juu had taken practical music classes and been through live tests at auditions.

By contrast, the only time Lee Cheonghyeon had stood before a large crowd was the piano competitions he entered as a kid.

Because of that, his facial acting and expressiveness back then were the weakest among the five.

Future Lee Cheonghyeon would quickly overcome that gap as he built stage experience, but not yet.

If we were going to promote ourselves as a skill-focused group that’s good at everything, then even setting the Jang Junhu issue aside, it made more sense for Choi Jeho to go.

On top of that, the MV’s lead role was a wistful boy pining for his first love from long ago.

A seventeen-year-old in a coat, walking a leaf-strewn street on a lonely autumn day, lost in hazy old memories? You couldn’t get more mismatched.

It wasn’t an image anyone would say “perfect for the role” about.

Right now, Lee Cheonghyeon fits “pretty boy” more than “handsome young man” or “beautiful youth.”

For something like this, the one who practically comes labeled by everyone as “aloof”—Choi Jeho—was a perfect fit.

“Even if Jeho-hyung goes... I don’t think we should send him alone.”

Hesitant but firm, Jeong Seongbin made his view clear. Very much like a kid with a straight spine.

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

I knew exactly what he was worried about.

Even if the younger ones were underage, the ages of Choi Jeho and Jeong Seongbin’s crowd weren’t far off.

If a grown man decided to make trouble, there was a high chance that even Choi Jeho wouldn’t be able to do much.

But what worried me more was, of course...

Character controversy.

Because the one we were sending was that Choi Jeho.

No one could predict what he might say on the day and end up provoking someone’s temper.

I gave Jeong Seongbin a reassuring smile.

“I’m going too.”

“I didn’t think you’d actually come along.”

Fresh from makeup, Choi Jeho showed off a style that highlighted his cleanly revealed forehead.

He couldn’t hide his youth, but he definitely looked much more mature than Lee Cheonghyeon.

On the day of the MV shoot, I’d stuck to him like a leech—from the moment he left the dorm to the stop at the shop.

“This is all from my sincere concern for Choi Jeho-ssi.”

“Put some spit on your lips before you lie like that.”

“Just in case you’re thinking it, don’t put spit on your lips. They’ll chap worse.”

“You’re impossible, so don’t say that anywhere and...”

“I clearly told you to speak politely outside, didn’t I?”

Keeping a smiling face so it looked like we got along was a chore in itself.

I checked where everyone was through the big mirror, then lowered my voice so only Choi Jeho could hear.

“You remember the Ten Commandments for when the camera’s rolling, right?”

Just in case, last night I had sat all the members down, including Choi Jeho, and drilled them on precautions for when cameras are rolling.

It was all basics:

Keep your mouth shut.

Unless you’ve been told otherwise, smile when the camera’s rolling.

If you go somewhere ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) to work, greet people properly.

When someone speaks, listen attentively.

Answer and react in a loud voice.

Sit straight with your legs together...

...things like that.

I made him hand-copy them ten times and he still couldn’t memorize them, so I whispered them by his bed all night like ASMR.

By around 3 a.m., he said he had it and recited them all in a stream. Repetition really is king for memorization.

At my question, Choi Jeho answered with a fed-up look.

“Yeah. My ears are bleeding.”

“Don’t worry. I checked, they’re fine.”

I kneaded his shoulders, now fully styled.

It’s only ten items—at least those much he should memorize.

On my side, I had just come back from giving the planning team a tear-jerker vision presentation to swap out the lead actor.

Since that day, the looks I got in the company turned “interesting” in a one-hundred-percent bad way, but I didn’t care.

Compared to when Chief Nam openly chewed me out, this was heaven.

While we finished getting ready and were waiting outside the shop, the manager pulled the car up from the parking lot.

I sent today’s great actor, Choi Jeho, to the back seat and asked as I took the passenger seat:

“Manager-nim, is senior Jang Junhu coming to today’s shoot too?”

“Funny you ask—since you asked me, I asked Junhu’s manager hyung, and they’re shooting him separately. He won’t be here today.”

“Really?”

“Why? Were you a fan of Junhu?”

“He’s such a big senior that I wanted to check if there’s anything we should be careful about. I’m just tagging along since I’m not the one shooting...”

“Hey now. Junhu’s not that hard a person! His way of speaking is a bit rough, but he really dotes on juniors.”

That kind of person did something monstrous to our kid, you know.

I had no intention of agreeing to dress up “violent and rude” as “a bit rough in expression.”

Anyway, the point was he wasn’t coming.

If he wasn’t coming, all the better. I wouldn’t have to stand in for Choi Jeho and go toe-to-toe.

“More than that—Jeho, once you’re dolled up, you really look the part.”

“Th... thank you.”

What, you can’t spit out a thank-you right away? This punk needs more ASMR.

When I stared at him in the rearview mirror, he seemed to realize he’d been slow to respond and furtively avoided my eyes.

Since we’re on the way to work, I’ll let it slide this once.

Still, I was pleased he’d gotten the “you look the part” evaluation. The shop’s reactions had been good too.

When the MV plays, people are only going to see Choi Jeho.

Not a bad development.

The first film set of my life was quite busy.

As soon as we arrived, I bowed 90 degrees alongside Choi Jeho.

I even all but slammed my head to the floor to greet the director, who was kind enough to let me, a tag-along, move around on set.

My primary goal had been to act as a breakwater between Jang Junhu and Choi Jeho if he showed up... but he wasn’t coming, so that wouldn’t be necessary.

I scanned the back of the set where the prep work bustled along.

The shooting gear I’d only ever seen in music-show behind-the-scenes clips filled my view.

In the past, I might have focused on employment conditions in the video industry. Not today.

Watching Choi Jeho walk toward a bench the camera was trained on made me think first of Kang Giyeon.

The kid who shakes like an aspen just from having a tiny office cam set in front of him at the company.

Thinking ahead to shooting a debut MV, we needed countermeasures.

He’s the one who, in Spark’s first MV not far from now, won’t know what to do with his wandering gaze.

Looking to the near future, Kang Giyeon needed to get used to cameras as soon as possible.

Learning over the shoulder—that I had done more than enough at Hanpyeong Industries.

Drawing on that memory, I stood by the manager and stuffed my head with how the cameras were placed and how the angles were moving.

At least get the feel, so I can run mock tests or whatever.

Fortunately, I didn’t need to babysit Choi Jeho’s acting.

He’s great at facial acting. Maybe because he’s danced for so long, his expressiveness is outstanding.

At this point, no one on our team could play “a lonely man showing a hint of desolation after a breakup” as well as Choi Jeho.

That was part of why I’d pushed for him. If he blew it, I’d be the one in trouble.

I had zero intention of hearing UA mutter over the results, “This instructor is disappointed in Assistant Manager Kim.”

Then I suddenly thought of all the freeloaders who had slid past me in countless group projects.

So this is how comfy and cushy it feels for you guys.

I won’t sympathize, but I will relate.

The shoot moved through several locations. All the drama cuts were slated for Choi Jeho.

The singer would only shoot performance scenes in a studio or on a set. If the sets didn’t overlap, that suited us just fine.

Of course, I didn’t just sit and gawk.

As the location kept changing, there was more and more to haul, so midway through I joined in carrying all sorts of bags.

People worried the equipment weighed a lot, so I generously showed off the skill I’d honed hiking the Top 100 Mountains while carrying Chief Nam’s share of bottled water.

Thanks to that, I even got praised for how I managed to move baggage so well without getting in people’s way or into the camera.

“Why are you hauling so much stuff?”

Feeling quite pleased with myself, I was moving the bag the junior writer had packed to the vehicle when someone spoke up behind me.

It was Choi Jeho.