I lifted the bag I was holding a little and spoke to Choi Jeho.

“Since you let me look around the set, I figured I’d repay the favor while I’m at it. Is the shoot over?”

“Yeah. We’re on standby for a bit, then around sunset they’re shooting the golden-hour cut.”

They say it takes two nights without sleep to shoot one music video. An entire day really does vanish in one go.

“Okay. Then I’m going to move the bags.”

“Who told you to move that?”

“Volunteering. If I don’t work while others are working, thorns sprout around my heart.”

I sent Choi Jeho, who must be exhausted from acting, to the manager and was about to keep moving the gear when he tagged along.

“Do you really have to go that far?”

he asked. One question and I’m afraid someone will overhear.

“That phrasing could get misunderstood depending on who hears it, so I’ll watch it. And I learned something for free, so I’m helping. Even if it’s not a big help.”

“Learn?”

“Stuff like the on-site vibe. You pay attention too. That way, when we shoot our own MV, we can run simulations with Giyeon.”

“......”

“How often do you get to watch veterans work right up close? Experience isn’t something you can buy, even with money.”

I’m basically making a fuss at someone else’s workplace trying to pick up tips; what’s hauling a few bags compared to that?

In my own job, even a proper handover is hard to get in this cutthroat world, so this kind of special treatment was a luxury.

If anyone told me right now, I was ready to sprint to the convenience store and buy drinks for everyone, headcount exact.

After hearing me out, Choi Jeho quietly followed behind me like he was thinking something over.

Then he suddenly turned back, went to the staff gathered a few steps away, explained something earnestly, and came back with a piece of gear.

“What are you doing?”

“I asked if there was more to carry and they gave me this.”

“Oh. You’re sacrificing your precious break time for us?”

“I don’t want to be the only one resting while the members work and end up with a personality controversy.”

This guy has a knack for twisting “I’ll help” into a rope of qualifiers. Still, the fact he thought it through was commendable, so I let it slide.

Maybe the two bright-green kids volunteering to do something looked endearing, because near the end, after promising we wouldn’t leak anything, we even got to take a few on-site photos with the manager’s phone.

The haul was better than expected, and I started humming without meaning to. I’ll sort all of it into references and use it to drill Kang Giyeon.

“I’d heard you were interested in planning, Iwol, but I didn’t know you were into directing too.”

the manager said to me in the car on the way back while I was busy flipping through the photos.

“I thought I might have something to tell the kids. I think it was really good we came. Thank you for bringing us.”

“Getting your face known early never hurts. And I think you should tell the kids as soon as you get back to the dorm today.”

“Sorry?”

“They’ve been pinging me all afternoon. Must’ve been real curious about you two going to the shoot.”

Then the manager laughed, adding that the kids get along well with each other.

“If anything, it’s probably worry, not curiosity,” I thought.

If they’d been contacting the manager all afternoon, that meant they’d taken the laptop with PC Talk installed to the practice room.

Maybe I should’ve texted ahead that Jang Junhu wasn’t coming. The ones who barely have enough time just to practice probably worried needlessly, and I felt a little sorry.

With that unexpectedly heartwarming news, I resolved that when we got back to the practice room I’d give them a vivid first-hand account of a colleague’s first shoot.

Up to this point, I didn’t know.

I, who had crammed the process of shooting a music video into my head like a compulsory class, would end up planning self-content.

It all began with a single line of work.

 [SYSTEM] ‘New Task’ has been assigned.

▷ Content: Set dorm rules

▷ Reward: EXP (5) granted

 What a pain. We’ve lived together a few months without rules and nothing’s blown up.

Even I, who find Spark insufferable, didn’t feel any major discomfort with life in the dorm itself.

Despite being at peak puberty age, none of them raise their voices at the dorm.

At worst, sometimes a guy doesn’t fold his laundry on time?

Even that’s not really a problem because I fold it when I fold mine.

Case in point, I’m folding the thirteenth communal towel that’s been on the drying rack for three days.

“Not that I can ignore free EXP,” I thought.

I accept anything people give—except work.

Maybe because I’ve lived my whole life by that creed, it was hard to pretend I didn’t see a clear system prompt.

So I was just thinking about how to bring it up when...

“Hyung, what do you think about all of us talking about dorm life together sometime?”

Like fate, Jeong Seongbin opened the door. The kid really is the best leader candidate.

I was so happy to accept this EXP rolling in on its own that I almost said yes on the spot—

≫ What were the UA clueless guys doing if they didn’t even film faces like that on video

Everyone else does survival shows and self-content to promote trainees before debut, but we’re doing a fucking surprise debut, the security is so airtight nobody even knows we exist

└ Guess they think if they age it and bring it out later it all turns into wild ginseng

The community reactions came back to me automatically.

I must have stan-proxed too hard; Spark-related info seems etched into my marrow.

“That’s a good idea. But could you give me two weeks?”

“Two weeks? It’s not urgent, so that’s fine, but...”

We definitely needed self-content to imprint each member’s image.

And the more bait, the better.

Early in debut, content fans can enjoy is extremely scarce, so the more prep the better.

That doesn’t mean I can shoot and edit everything myself.

I could if I had to, but if I did it alone the sustainability would tank.

Which means we need the company’s help.

With all the planning manpower tied up in the album prep, it was hard to expect someone to suddenly go, “Ah! Let’s also shoot self-content for our kids!”

So what’s left is pleading. I am, after all, very skilled at begging sincerely.

I immediately recalled the three-piece proposal set the system had handed me.

“If I tweak the structure a bit, I can use it as a content plan.”

Resolved to burn the night, I opened the shared laptop.

Inspiration bubbled up—felt like I’d gone back to my assistant manager days at Hanpyeong Industries, brain a little fried from chronic overtime.

“This is a self-content proposal?”

“Yes. Even if we don’t proceed, any notes on weaknesses would help a lot.”

I bowed ninety degrees as I handed the overnight proposal to the planning team lead I’d met at the presentation a few days ago.

It’d be nice if we could stop passing paper back and forth like this and adopt an e-approval system.

Why are Hanpyeong Industries and UA so obsessed with analog? I’m curious, but I also don’t want to know.

“I heard you were enthusiastic—must be a lot of work. But it might not happen. The company doesn’t have people right now...”

“If you’ll at least review whether there’s a chance, I’ll think up separate solutions!”

“Okay. Good work.”

The solution is already set.

If the company really can’t do anything, I’m ready to do a hellish self-cam shoot.

Worst case, I’ll buy a cheap tripod and shoot. If someone moves even a little from a fixed spot, that member [N O V E L I G H T] just won’t be in that day’s footage.

What matters is that even if we don’t upload right away, we at least keep the raw footage.

Whether we make a documentary later or an early-debut compilation, you need material to do the work.

If you need records, you want as many as possible, preferably on video.

So I put that in the proposal in huge, bold emphasis.

I basically wrote about the importance of records at the level of the Annals of the Joseon Dynasty; not sure how it’ll come across.

“From the company’s point of view, it’s extra unexpected work, so it won’t be easy,” I thought.

When something new gets added, even a mild-mannered office worker gets mad. I just prayed UA would give the planning team a generous performance bonus.

While I was hoping my wish would reach the heavens, Lee Cheonghyeon said,

“Hyung, you really look like a human zombie.”

“I’d rather be a zombie.”

“Why? Do you like apocalypse settings?”

“No. If I were a zombie, I wouldn’t have to sleep.”

“Wow. You mean that?”

I do. Alternatively, splitting my body into two wouldn’t be bad either.

“But hyung, your dark circles are seriously bad. At this rate you’re going to get hyperpigmentation.” 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

“Hyperpigmentation is a bit of a problem for an idol.”

“Exactly.”

“...What are you two doing?”

While Lee Cheonghyeon and I were seriously discussing skincare, Choi Jeho asked from a distance with a sour face.

That settles it. Right after the “set dorm rules” content, we’re shooting a skincare content piece.

A week later.

After bowing my head to the planning team and pleading for help with filming, support came through from the video team.

UA may not be ahead of the curve, but their support is solid.

UA even asked if we needed anything else.

“Didn’t the planning team ask if we needed props or cue cards?”

“A small whiteboard is enough. We’re not used to patter anyway; it’s better to shoot in a natural mood for now.”

So we gathered in the dorm living room with just a board during the afternoon practice block.

I never thought there’d be a day when leaving early from work would feel uneasy.

But it couldn’t be helped. We had to let the video team staff leave on time.

“It’s my first time being filmed by a serious camera like that.”

Watching the camera being set up in the corner of the dorm felt strange.

A crew had come to Hanpyeong Industries once for a website renewal shoot.

Even then I only communicated from the back; I’d never stepped in front of the camera.

As leader, Jeong Seongbin, who had suddenly been made the MC, looked a little tense too.

“Don’t get too nervous. It’s not live.”

“Okay...!”

“But anyone who says fewer than ten lines during the shoot is going to have a one-on-one talk with me after.”

“Huh? Is that a mission?”

“What, is an idol going to sit in front of a camera and say nothing? If all you do is sit there clapping, over my dead body will I watch it.”

I sincerely decline to see Spark return to its clap-bot era.

“Do it for the fans who gather even broken little anecdotes to write promo posts.”

Maybe my sincerity got through, because the kids nodded with unexpectedly resolute faces.