Episode 3: Cheerful Girl Group Maker

Episode 3: Free Sense

At the mention that I’d already met Kwon Ah-hyun, Team Leader Jeon Min-yong glances at me.

I explain the incident where she bumped into me on my way to work.

Ah-hyun whines, as if asking for backup.

“Wow, I’ve never seen someone so cold!”

“I was just standing there, and you ran into me from behind…”

“I was running straight, and you suddenly turned!”

Ugh, this is…

I mutter with a troubled expression.

“Sorry. I’ll make sure to be born with eyes in the back of my head next time.”

Not Ah-hyun, but the youngest, Baek Jin-ah, responds with a serious look.

“Oh. Thinking about eyes on the back of your head. Kinda. Creepy.”

Her clipped speech is peculiar.

It’s not just her speech—her face and gaze practically scream, “I’m a quirky, my-way-or-no-way 4D personality.”

The type I avoid getting close to, regardless of gender.

“Even so, when you bump into someone, don’t you usually help pick up their stuff?” Ah-hyun continues.

“That’s true,” Seung-ah Lee chimes in, agreeing.

I protest, feeling wronged.

“If it was a guy, I would’ve helped.”

“What?! What does gender have to do with it? Isn’t that just basic manners?”

No, it’s not.

As Ah-hyun keeps whining, Team Leader Jeon smirks, seemingly pleased.

“Why, I think he’s got a decent personality. A guy who bumps into a girl group member and walks away without a word? At least we won’t have to worry about him causing trouble over girls.”

If there’s one thing I’m confident about, it’s that.

To me, “causing trouble over girls” is as likely as “causing trouble over dragons.”

There are no girls in my fate… none!

“I’ll be in the office. Get to know the kids and bond a bit.”

Jeon says, handing me a card.

“Use this to buy them lunch. Get coffee if they want it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Keep the receipts.”

“Yes, understood.”

Oh, so this is the legendary company card.

After he leaves, the atmosphere turns awkward.

No, it’s probably just me feeling awkward.

I’m the one making it awkward.

Trying to break the ice, I start a conversation.

“So, you’re just practicing today?”

“Yes,”

Replies Seung-ah Lee, the leader with her hair half-tied and round glasses, forcing a bright smile but unable to hide a hint of self-deprecation.

“We don’t really have any schedules.”

“Oh…”

Without Team Leader Jeon, the conversation doesn’t flow smoothly.

Even Ah-hyun, who was snappy earlier, becomes timid.

Jin-ah seems like she doesn’t talk much unless it’s about something she cares about.

Just my impression, but all three seem chronically lacking in confidence, almost shrinking into themselves.

They remind me of shivering mutts in a cardboard box on a rainy day.

They were so confident on stage—it’s kind of sad.

Maybe they sense their position fading in the shadow of GraceOne’s massive popularity.

They’re still too young to feel this powerless…

Jin-ah is only 19, and even Seung-ah and Ah-hyun, who debuted in the original five-member lineup as the youngest, aren’t that old.

Considering GraceOne’s leader is 24 and the next two members are 22, they’re still far from being called has-beens.

But what can you do?

Even if you’re young, pretty, talented, and backed by the company, if the timing or concept doesn’t click, an idol group won’t take off.

From a fan’s perspective, Free Sense’s struggles can be chalked up to the company’s planning failures.

True to their name, “Free Sense,” they tried unique and varied concepts for the first year after debut, but to the public, it came off as confusing and unappealing.

Realizing this wasn’t working, the company swapped members and pushed for a more mainstream image, giving them some support.

But an idol’s lifeblood is freshness and youth.

Free Sense wasted too much time on bizarre concepts, and coupled with failed promotions and a lack of buzz, they missed their golden window to break out.

Their hair and makeup were a mess due to those weird concepts, but seeing them in person with no makeup, they’re not bad-looking at all.

They’re not the classic beauty type, but each has a unique charm.

Not an “Oh, she’s gorgeous!” but more of a “Huh, she’s got something special” vibe.

These girls shouldn’t be overdone with makeup.

A pure, innocent look with a lovely concept would suit them better—that’s my armchair fan analysis.

Being able to pull off those odd concepts means they have the skills to back it up.

“So, how old are you, oppa?”

Ah-hyun Kwon boldly breaks the awkward silence by asking, “How old are you, oppa?”

I already mentioned my age earlier…

Guess that means they weren’t paying much attention to me.

The leader, Lee Seung-ah, answers for me.

“He said he’s 24.”

“Oh, did he? Sorry,” Ah-hyun replies.

Her fair skin pairs strikingly with her faded light purple, medium-length hair.

Seung-ah, despite being the leader, gives off a cute, innocent vibe more suited to a maknae. Her round glasses make her look like Arale from ‘Dr. Slump’. Of the three, she seems the most cheerful and approachable.

She probably became the leader by default after the original members left, based on age.

The youngest, Baek Jin-ah, with her jet-black hair and slightly pale complexion, gives off a frail, almost sickly vibe. She feels like a brooding, occult-obsessed girl straight out of a conspiracy theory forum.

They’re all so distinct.

Our conversation continues sporadically, but it feels hollow, like it’s floating without substance.

Frustrated by the lack of smooth banter, I try to amp up the energy.

“Anyway, I look forward to working with you, sunbaenims. This is my first time as a manager.”

“Pfft, ‘sunbaenims’? That makes us sound like middle-aged singers, right, unnie?” Ah-hyun laughs.

“Yeah, there’s barely an age gap…” Seung-ah adds.

“Sorry, I didn’t know what else to call you…”

Seung-ah takes charge and settles it.

“Just call us by our names. We’ll call you oppa.”

“Then I’ll use ‘-ssi.’ Seung-ah-ssi, Ah-hyun-ssi, Jin-ah-ssi.”

“Ugh, so cringey. ‘Jin-ah-ssi,’” Jin-ah shudders slightly.

Even that reaction feels oddly robotic.

“Just. Talk casually. That’s easier,” Jin-ah says.

Seung-ah nods in agreement. “Yeah, oppa, just speak casually. The ‘-ssi’ thing does feel a bit awkward.”

This morning, on the way here, my dad gave me some advice.

“Don’t even drink a glass of water without checking with your boss first. For the first few days, keep your mouth shut, ears closed, and just do what you’re told. If you come on too strong, that becomes the baseline, and you’ll just exhaust yourself.”

When in doubt, follow the lead of your superior.

Remembering that Team Leader Jeon Min-yong didn’t speak casually to me, I double-check with Seung-ah.

“I’m fine with it, but is that okay? Won’t the company say something? Team Leader Jeon hasn’t spoken casually to me yet.”

“Min-yong oppa’s just like that,” Seung-ah explains.

“I’ll check with him about the honorifics and casual speech.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

After the customary introductions, the girls practice for tomorrow’s morale-boosting event.

They’re preparing two songs, one of which is a cover since they don’t have any notable hits.

Even their own songs aren’t particularly well-known.

They say a singer’s career is a success if they have just one hit before retiring, and that saying exists for a reason.

I sit idly, watching their practice until lunchtime.

They’re celebrities, so it’s fascinating. Just yesterday, I was watching them through a screen, and now seeing them in person feels surreal.

For lunch, we go to a snack bar in front of the practice room.

The girls pick the three cheapest items on the menu and share them.

Even if they’re not popular, the company isn’t so broke they’d care about meal expenses, and for a group in their third year, they’ve got some experience. It’s kind of heartbreaking to see them eating so cautiously.

But I’m in no position to worry about their situation.

“Uh…? Where’s the card…?”

When it’s time to pay, I realize the company card Team Leader Jeon gave me is gone.

I’m sure I put it in the same pocket as my phone…

Damn, I must’ve dropped it while pulling out my phone.

I pay with my own card and retrace our steps with the Free Sense members, but we can’t find it.

In the end, I call Team Leader Jeon to report the loss.

“Wow, making a strong impression on your first day, huh?”

He says calmly, but I can tell he’s annoyed.

He lectures me that for a manager handling celebrities’ personal info, security and keeping track of belongings are the basics.

What can I say… I messed up.

***

At 4:30 p.m., my confidence was at an all-time low, and I was feeling utterly deflated.

Then, a call came from Team Leader Jeon Min-yong.

“Go home early today and come to the office by 4 a.m. tomorrow.”

“Yes, understood.”

“If you’re thinking of bailing, say so now.”

“No, I’ll be there.”

“Alright.”

His tone suggested he had zero expectations of me showing up.

Feeling miserable, I boarded the subway home.

I opened my go-to YouTube channel, ‘All the Girl Groups in the World’, or ‘SemoGirl’ for short.

It’s content I habitually watch whenever I have free time.

…Huh?

Something was off.

The main page had only one video.

Just last night, there were dozens uploaded.

What’s this? Did the channel get flagged?

The thumbnail text was even stranger, as if it had predicted I’d become Free Sense’s manager:

[#GirlGroupFreeSenseTruckCollision]

[#AllPassengersIncludingMembersInCriticalCondition]

[#DashcamFootageFromTheAccident]

Was this the algorithm picking up on my searches?

No, that’s not the issue.

Had Free Sense ever been in a traffic accident?

Not that I could recall.

Frowning, I tapped the play button.

[Hello, this is All the Girl Groups in the World, SemoGirl. Today, we’re covering incidents and accidents involving idols. With album promotions, idols barely have time to sleep, moving on minute-by-minute schedules. Spending so much time on the road, they’re constantly exposed to the risk of traffic accidents. In the past, many celebrities have tragically lost their lives or been seriously injured in accidents, breaking fans’ hearts…]

The narration and editing style were definitely SemoGirl’s.

I’d watched nearly every video and memorized their thumbnails, but this one? I had no recollection of it.

[Last April, another heartbreaking accident made headlines. The Carnival van carrying the girl group Free Sense collided with an 8-ton truck coming from the opposite direction. The cause was the truck driver’s drowsy driving. Fortunately, there were no fatalities, but the Free Sense members, their manager, and stylist were severely injured. Leader Lee Seung-ah and Kwon Ah-hyun are still receiving hospital treatment. Here’s the dashcam footage from the van at the time of the accident.]

Up until I saw the dashcam footage, I thought, ‘Oh, they must’ve had an accident before.’

But the more I thought about it, the more things didn’t add up.

Since leaving the military, I’d kept up with most girl group news.

An accident this serious? There’s no way I wouldn’t have heard about it.

The video went on to say that Seung-ah suffered a temporary cardiac shock from excessive bleeding, and Ah-hyun’s pelvis was completely shattered, potentially ending her career as a singer.

The youngest, Jin-ah, was unconscious for two days due to a concussion…

An incident this big would’ve made not just entertainment news but mainstream headlines. How could I have missed it?

And the YouTuber clearly said, “Leader Seung-ah Lee and Kwon Ah-hyun are still receiving hospital treatment.”

Then who were the perfectly healthy girls I saw today?

The accident’s date was also odd.

They said “last April,” but it’s April right now.

What? What? What?!

The roughly five-minute video ended.

I felt dazed, as if I’d been bewitched.

I tried to replay it to check the date and details, but…

“Huh…?”

The YouTube main page, which had only shown that one video, was back to normal, and the video I’d just watched was nowhere to be found.

It wasn’t even in my watch history.

I searched “Free Sense traffic accident” on a portal site, but no articles came up.

The only thing vivid in my mind was the dashcam footage from the accident.

Too baffled, I muttered to myself, “What the hell…”

But this was just the intro.

The real, heart-pounding story was waiting for me the next day.

As if it were a premonition of the future, the traffic accident from the video played out exactly as I’d seen it.

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