“Then from now on, we’ll begin the first group meeting!”

“Wow!”

At Jeong Seongbin’s opening line, everyone clapped hard.

As if to prove we’re Korean, all six of us ignored the sofa and sat on the floor. Familiar and nice.

“Today’s agenda is ‘setting dorm rules.’ It’s true we haven’t had problems so far, but I thought we could take some time to talk so we can live even better together.”

Clean MC work. I like it.

Turns out Jeong Seongbin had gotten word about the content and apparently made a separate script and practiced.

Looked like he’d built up reps doing class president or student council. This is why you hire experienced hands.

“More than that... should I be the one to say something first?” 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

Once one person opens the floodgates, it’s easy to talk after that.

I hadn’t really felt inconvenienced living with the guys, but for video length I had a few small ideas ready.

Stuff like “let’s definitely drink one cup of water in the morning”—small and wholesome.

I was working my brain, trying to pick topics that wouldn’t overlap with what they’d prepared, when Jeong Seongbin spoke first.

“If a member is doing housework, I’d like the people in the dorm to help together. Unless it’s something unavoidable like exam period?”

Sounded harmonious and good.

Then Choi Jeho asked back,

“Don’t we already clean properly?”

“A while ago Iwol hyung was folding towels by himself. Hyung makes us breakfast too, but I don’t think he should be doing everything alone, even the parts we’re not paying attention to.”

Huh?

Was this meeting called because of me?

As I recall, that day Jeong Seongbin came at the end and folded towels with me.

And “making breakfast” just means baking bread.

I, who suddenly became the main subject of the agenda, was fine, but Jeong Seongbin looked extremely serious.

The others seemed to be taking it heavily too. No idea why.

Still, it wasn’t good to let the flow turn into a tone that blamed other members.

What I want to show is these kids tossing out fresh, noisy comments—not hold a confirmation hearing with them.

“If I can’t steer the mood, this will need editing.”

I forced my way into the heavy air, where it felt like someone might declare self-reflection at any moment.

“Who’s going to write down what Seongbin just said? Recruiting today’s scribe.”

“...I’ll do it.”

Then Park Juu grabbed the board marker. The way he wanted to do something—excellent.

“Then can I speak now?”

As if he’d been waiting, Lee Cheonghyeon raised his hand and shouted.

“Yeah, go.”

“I want us to talk more with each other!”

“Talk?”

“There’s a part where you get closer by talking! Honestly, aren’t ‘Good morning.’ and ‘Let’s practice.’ way too dominant around here?!”

He wasn’t wrong.

If I ranked who talks most in this dorm, it’d be: 1st Lee Cheonghyeon, 2nd me, 3rd Jeong Seongbin, and the rest tied for 4th.

“So, I’m saying we should promote friendship by talking. Of course things are already so, so good, but as maknae line I want the dorm to be twice as bright as it is now!”

“Why are you forcibly including me?”

“Do you like a bright, friendly dorm, or a bleak, rough dorm? Huh? Say it.”

When Lee Cheonghyeon went at Kang Giyeon, we got a decent bickering shot. As expected of a kid who understands broadcast.

Riding that current, I voiced agreement.

“I’m with the idea that we should talk a lot.”

Then Jeong Seongbin added,

“Do we need to decide what kind of talk specifically?”

“For now, let’s go with ‘talk a lot’! If it doesn’t work well, we can improve then!”

“...Got it. I’ll write it that way.”

With Park Juu even recording it in the minutes, the “let’s all talk together” agenda wrapped up nicely.

After that, Kang Giyeon and Choi Jeho gave their opinions in turn.

Kang Giyeon: “Put shoes neatly in the shoe cabinet.” Choi Jeho: “At night, keep the mood light in the living room on.”

Kang Giyeon’s reason was that when you come home late, you always end up stepping on someone else’s shoes at the entrance and it feels bad.

As for Choi Jeho’s reason...

“When I come out to drink water at night, I can’t see anything and keep bumping into the table.”

“Right. Your eyesight isn’t great. Is it much worse in the dark?”

“Yeah. That’s why I even brought a lamp, but someone keeps turning it off.”

“That was your lamp, hyung?!”

Judging by how he flinched, the culprit was probably Lee Cheonghyeon.

Anyway, we decided that even if we turn off the living-room lights, we’ll keep the mushroom-shaped mood lamp on.

Seongbin: Everyone do housework together

Cheonghyeon: Talk a lot

Giyeon: Arrange shoes neatly

Jeho hyung: Don’t turn off the mood lamp at night

After writing up to that, Park Juu looked at me and asked,

“What about you, hyung?”

“Me?”

When my turn came, I was about to trot out the “drink water in the morning” I’d half-prepared last night.

But the mood felt a little strange.

Why... does it feel like they’re expecting something big?

“Assistant Manager Kim, please just this once.”

“Team leader... how could I set the team KPI however I want? I’m just an assistant manager.”

“Who cares who sets it? We just need the look of it, the look.”

“If the department head finds out, we’re in serious trouble, sir.”

“It’s fine. The department head told me to leave it to Assistant Manager Kim too.”

“Sir?”

“So ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) please. Hm? You know I don’t usually ask for favors like this.”

Lies. The team leader asked favors about a million and twenty-one times while I worked at Hanpyeong Industries.

Apparently people had a firm belief I’d bring something amazing.

Including the five members who were looking at me right now.

If I mentioned something like drinking water here, I had a bad feeling I’d get icy looks for not reading the room.

Then what should I do?

Make someone write a reflection letter every time they say something thoughtless? If there’s a fight, convene a dispute mediation committee?

I was rattled. The only group living I’ve done with room and board was the military, first and last.

I agonized over everything for a brief moment, then blurted the last thing that came to mind.

“Let’s not wreck the practice atmosphere...”

“Oh... if someone delays or skips practice, somebody’s life is going to be over.”

I don’t know. If everyone practices hard, that’s good.

After I barely got through my turn, the only one left was Park Juu.

“Juu, you?”

“They’re all good... I’d like dishes done on time. Preferably right away when they’re made.”

A pretty meticulous opinion.

Not many people eat in the dorm, so it hasn’t been much of an issue so far, but...

“That’s true. It’s about to be summer, and fruit flies will show up.”

At my words, five faces turned pale in unison.

Thankfully, it seems nobody here keeps bugs as a hobby.

And that’s how our dorm’s first six commandments were set.

Along with a modest bit of EXP. A historic moment.

After we shot footage that was raw enough to be closer to a vlog than self-content.

Not many days later, I got a call from the planning team.

“Production HQ?”

“Yeah. The CEO said you’ll be coming here a lot now, Iwol, and asked us to teach you well.”

A planning team staffer said they’d been asked to introduce me to Production HQ.

Seems there was some talk about me behind the scenes without me knowing.

Well, it never hurts to know an org chart. All the more if I’ll be collaborating with various teams while producing.

“I was in trouble because the company website doesn’t have an org chart—this is perfect.”

Happy at the timely chance, I did face-time introductions with the teams under Production HQ.

Along the way, I heard bits of not-funny-but-cute stories here and there.

“Are you that kid? The one who carried boxes at Jang Junhu’s MV shoot?”

“That’s me, I think.”

“The PD must’ve found that really striking. Kept talking about how you were hustling in the heat. He’s a veteran, so he watches attitude a lot.”

“Jeho helped too. And we really did nothing special...!”

Stuff like that.

I also heard lines like, “I heard you wanted to shoot self-content this time?” and “We were about to review the proposal you submitted!”

The meaning wrapped up in those words boiled down to two sentences.

So it’s you?

The one who gave me more work.

A painful thing. I hated Manager Nam dumping work on people so much, and now here I am creating work for others.

I smiled as innocently as possible while bowing so deep my head nearly touched the floor.

On the way back after finishing my Production HQ tour, a staffer said,

“Your parents must have taught you really well, Iwol.”

“Did they?”

“Yeah. I’ve never seen kids your age be this polite.”

Am I supposed to take that as “you seem well brought up”?

Of course that phrasing has issues.

I’d never really received anything you could call “education” at home.

If I’d been caught doing wrong, they were the kind of people who’d throw me out of the house rather than discipline me.

The only good thing was that thanks to my sister smacking my back a lot, I grew up without once acting out.

But I remember vividly how hard I worked to pick up manners at school, reading the room.

Relearning speech while working in HR helped too.

Adding it up one by one like that, there’s none of my parents’ “merit” in the formation of my character—good or bad.

Even so, I had no choice but to answer, “Thank you.” Because I know how harsh society is on someone with no family to lean on.

When I got back from my Production HQ field trip, all the members were gathered in the middle of the practice room.

It was rare, so I couldn’t not ask.

“Why aren’t you practicing?”

Don’t tell me we’ve already broken the “don’t wreck the practice atmosphere” rule.

I was seriously considering dragging them one by one into the vocal room when Lee Cheonghyeon looked up and waved.

“Hyung! Perfect timing. Let’s watch Parte sunbaenim’s teaser together!”

“Teaser?”

“Yeah, yeah. It just dropped!”

When he pulled me over, Park Juu and Kang Giyeon scooted aside to make space.

On the spare phone in Jeong Seongbin’s hands, Parte’s teaser—uploaded an hour ago—was paused on the screen.

“You said it just dropped. It says it went up an hour ago.”

“We checked during break while practicing...”

Good. No need for one-on-one talks in the vocal room.

“Then I’ll play it.”

When Jeong Seongbin hit play, grand, ominous sound filled the practice room.