After several days, the 9th floor of the MOK building was still spacious and silent.
But today, at least, the presence of staff at the information desk kept it from feeling completely empty.
Having been notified in advance by CEO Kim Dong-han, the female receptionist welcomed Seon-ho as he stepped off the elevator.
“You’re Manager Han Seon-ho from Singer Team B, correct?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Do you have your employee ID with you?”
“I do.”
After checking his ID, the receptionist guided Seon-ho to the VIP lounge.
“The CEO had something urgent come up. Please wait just a moment, and we’ll contact you.”
“Understood.”
“Feel free to use anything inside while you wait.”
Once she left the room, Seon-ho glanced around the VIP lounge.
There was a lot inside.
Not just a computer, but various gaming consoles as well, and the fridge was stocked with various drinks and alcohol.
Do people actually drink and play games in here?
With that idle thought, Seon-ho settled into the couch and opened a music streaming app on his phone.
He’d already checked it multiple times on his way to work, but he still wasn’t tired of seeing it.
The screen showing the song title “Vivid” with the number “1” beside it.
“Vivid” had finally reached #1 on the music charts that past Sunday afternoon.
At the time, Seon-ho had been in his apartment reading a novel.
It was a book with a bizarre title that Jia had recently enjoyed reading—he was reading it as reference for composing the OST of High School in Melody.
He’d been immersed in the novel for quite a while when his phone suddenly started buzzing nonstop.
At first, he thought it was a phone call.
But the vibrations were too frequent for that.
When he checked, he saw messages pouring in without pause.
[Seon-ho, let’s keep getting along well from now on.]
It started with a message from Choi Ki-seok, the head of PR, and was followed by countless congratulatory texts.
Far more than the ones he had received after the first broadcast of Idol War.
Of course, the messages that meant the most were from the Personal Color members. And among them, the one that truly touched his heart came from An Jia.
[I hope you’ll stay our manager forever.]
There were many factors that led to Vivid reaching #1 on the charts.
The endless reruns of Idol War Episode 1 on KBM.
The thrilling preview for Episode 2 going viral.
The joint promotional push from the KBM and MOK PR teams.
The fortunate timing—there weren’t any other overwhelmingly popular songs dominating the charts.
But those were just secondary reasons.
The real reason lay elsewhere.
Personal Color were genuinely good artists.
Vivid was simply a good song.
And because good artists had faith in a good song, everyone involved was happy.
That was the most important reason.
And it was also why Seon-ho had come today, to settle things once and for all with CEO Kim Dong-han.
Just past 10 a.m., the door to the VIP lounge opened and someone stepped inside.
Seon-ho, who had been monitoring news articles on a portal site, looked up at the sound.
He assumed it was a staff member coming to escort him now that the CEO’s work was done.
But the person who appeared wasn’t a staff member.
It was Kim Dong-han himself, still dressed in a sharp suit.
Seon-ho stood up to greet him, and Kim Dong-han gave a nod.
“My work took longer than expected. You must’ve waited quite a while.”
“Not at all.”
“Have a seat.”
After settling onto the couch, Kim Dong-han leaned back and asked,
“What were you doing?”
“Just keeping an eye on the news articles online.”
“About whom? Personal Color? Or Cha Hye-mi?”
His gaze landed directly on Seon-ho.
It was a sudden question.
But Seon-ho understood its implication perfectly.
Just yesterday, Personal Color had reached #1 on the charts, and countless articles had flooded in.
A dramatic breakthrough after three years of obscurity.
The true beneficiaries of Idol War.
The rediscovery of actress An Jia.
There were so many articles, echoing the tone of those that had followed the show’s first episode.
So of course, it was obvious what Seon-ho was reading.
Articles about Personal Color.
And Kim Dong-han knew that too.
But he didn’t want the truth.
What he wanted was to hear the name “Cha Hye-mi” from Seonho’s lips.
More precisely, he wanted an indirect answer—an indication that Seon-ho was willing to take charge of Hyemi.
Seon-ho knew that if he said “Cha Hye-mi” here, Kim Dong-han would become a powerful ally.
He could rise quickly under the favour of someone who already rated his abilities highly.
And if he even revealed his secret—that he was the mysterious producer Prefer?
He could win over Kim Dong-han completely.
But that wasn’t the path Seon-ho had decided to take.
He wasn’t chasing wealth or success.
He wanted happiness in the journey.
There would come a time when the artists he managed didn’t succeed. When a song he released as Prefer would go unnoticed.
But if the journey itself had been joyful, it didn’t matter.
If he carried happy memories, he could always enjoy the next challenge.
So, Seon-ho opened his mouth and spoke.
“I was reading articles about an MOK artist.”
“Which artist?”
“Personal Color.”
“Hmmm.”
Kim Dong-han stroked his chin once, then asked,
“Have you chosen a successor for Personal Color?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I still want to manage Personal Color.”
“…That’s disappointing. I even promised you a department head position.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s a shame.”
With a indifferent expression, Kim Dong-han murmured the word again, then said,
“Then I’ll choose your replacement myself. From now on, you’ll take over Hye-mi. I’ll assign Personal Color to Director Kwon Hosan.”
“…”
“The official appointment will be next Monday.”
He added,
“If I hear news soon about Hye-mi renewing her contract, maybe I’ll forget today’s disappointment. The department head offer will still be on the table.”
In the end, CEO Kim Dong-han had unilaterally reassigned him.
And his tone made it clear that objections wouldn’t be tolerated.
“You can go now.”
He reclined more comfortably on the couch and closed his eyes.
But even after some time passed, he didn’t hear footsteps.
Opening his eyes again, he asked,
“Why are you still here?”
“Sir.”
The sound of Seon-ho’s voice made Kim Dong-han’s expression change.
“If I can’t manage Personal Color… I’ll resign.”
Silence filled the VIP room at Seon-ho’s bombshell declaration.
After a long, heavy pause, CEO Kim Dong-han finally opened his mouth.
“Was that a threat?”
“No, sir.”
“No, what you just said was a threat. The problem is… I don’t believe you.”
CEO Kim let out a scoffing laugh and continued.
“I thought you were more thorough, more cold-headed… This is disappointing.”
“Why does it disappoint you?”
“You’re talking about quitting? At this timing? There’s no way I’d believe in such a self-contradictory threat.”
He wasn’t wrong about the contradiction.
The reason Seon-ho had played the resignation card was because he wanted to continue managing Personal Color.
But if he resigned from MOK, he couldn’t continue managing Personal Color.
In the end, what Seon-ho was saying amounted to, “I want to manage Personal Color. And if I can’t, I’ll quit and never manage them again,” which made absolutely no sense.
And that wasn’t all.
MOK was the company that valued the rookie manager Han Seon-ho more highly than anyone else in the industry.
Because they’d seen firsthand everything from Autumn Leaf to Vivid.
Of course, there were still doubts even within MOK.
Could a manager with only three months of experience really have pulled all of this off?
Even taking that into account, it was undeniably true that MOK rated Seonho higher than anyone else.
So for Seon-ho to resign from MOK was an utterly foolish move.
If he quit on his own, he’d become just another three-month rookie floating around in a sea of similar resumes.
Sure, thanks to the rumors in the showbiz world, he’d be treated better than others starting at the same level.
But how long would that “good treatment” last?
A manager who left with nothing but himself?
As time passed, the achievements he made in those three months would begin to fade. Sooner or later, people would call it “a stroke of luck,” or “hype.”
Of course they would.
That was why CEO Kim scoffed at Seon-ho’s words. Why Seon-ho’s resignation wasn’t even a viable negotiation chip.
“Manager Han Seon-ho, I’ll generously let the threat slide. After all, a manager’s job requires affection for their artist.”
“……”
“Now, off you go.”
“I apologize.”
CEO Kim interpreted Seon-ho’s apology as an admission of defeat.
But it wasn’t.
Seon-ho slipped a hand into the inside pocket of his jacket—and pulled out a resignation letter.
The moment CEO Kim saw it, his expression hardened. And right then, a ringtone echoed through the room.
“What is it now?”
Annoyance crept into CEO Kim’s expression as he took the call.
Seon-ho, standing across from him, could hear a man’s voice faintly from the receiver, but couldn’t make out what was being said.
CEO Kim listened quietly for a moment, then spoke.
“Put them on.”
The tone of his voice changed, suggesting the person on the line had switched.
“You said you had something to tell me?”
This time, a woman’s voice came through.
Even though Seon-ho couldn’t hear the conversation clearly, he had a good idea who it was.
Judging from the way CEO Kim’s face twisted, it was likely the call he’d been waiting for.
The call didn’t last long.
Once it ended, CEO Kim stared daggers at Seon-ho and asked:
“Was that your doing?”
“Sir?”
“Was that your doing or not?”
“I don’t know what you mean, sir.”
Seon-ho replied with a calm expression.
CEO Kim stared at him for a long time, trying to read something from his face—but he found no clue.
Because Seon-ho wasn’t a fool.
He had already anticipated that the resignation card alone wouldn’t have any effect on CEO Kim.
But when paired with one additional condition, the situation changed.
And the one who could add that condition… was Hye-mi.
“You’re a genius, oppa…!”
“I’m not a genius. It’s just something anyone could’ve thought of.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s just that most people don’t have the guts to actually do it—or even think of asking a celebrity for help.”
—Remember the favour I asked on the train?
—Of course I do.
—Can you do it now?
The favour he’d asked on the Daegu-to-Seoul KTX.
That favour was for her to whine and plead once more, like she did when he was first assigned to Personal Color.
Only this time, the target wasn’t the HR department—it was CEO Kim Dong-han.
Most likely, the woman who had just spoken to CEO Kim was Hye-mi.
The man’s voice at the start of the call was probably Team Leader Jung Cha-myung, currently in charge of Hye-mi.
And what Hye-mi probably said to CEO Kim was this:
—I’ll renew my contract.
—But I have a condition.
—I want Seon-ho oppa as my manager.
—If that condition isn’t met, I will not renew my contract.
—I mean it.
The moment Hye-mi started whining, the resignation card Seon-ho had played transformed into a powerful weapon.
Once her contract expired, a flood of companies would rush into the free-agent market to snatch her up.
And CEO Kim was probably well aware that Director Yoo Ah-yeon from UU Entertainment had her eye on Hye-mi.
It wouldn’t take long for him to figure out that Seon-ho was acquainted with Director Yoo, too.
So if Seon-ho’s resignation came with Hye-mi’s condition attached, it was no longer an empty bluff.
If things went south, Hye-mi could take Seon-ho and move to UU Entertainment together.
To be honest, Seon-ho hadn’t wanted to confront CEO Kim this aggressively or recklessly.
When he first asked Hye-mi for help, he didn’t mean for her to crash into things head-on like this.
He’d simply hoped that, when contract renewal talks came up nine months down the line, she’d include his name and they could continue working as a team.
But CEO Kim had other plans—manipulating them as he pleased, hiding his true intentions all the while.
So Seon-ho had chosen this approach.
Now, CEO Kim had two paths before him.
First: let both Hye-mi and Seon-ho go.
Second: keep them both.
Even a rookie with just three months of experience could see which path was better for the company.
Of course, that second option came with one more condition.
Hye-mi said she wouldn’t renew her contract unless Seon-ho stayed.
And Seon-ho said he would resign unless he could stay with Personal Color.
So, in order to keep Cha Hye-mi, they had no choice but to let Han Seon-ho manage both Personal Color and Cha Hye-mi.
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