Episode 36: Cheerful Girl Group Maker

Episode 36: ???: How Much Is It Gonna Take?

Unlike her siblings’ heated reactions, Woo-ya let out a heavy sigh, as if telling them to stop talking nonsense.

“Who’s gonna run the stall…?”

“Is the stall the issue here?”

Does Yoo-kyung not grasp her sister’s real-world struggles?

Or is she caught up in the idealistic fantasy that being an idol pays more than a toast stall?

In a frustrated tone, she started trying to convince Woo-ya.

“Unnie, you don’t know ‘cause you’re not into celebrities, but shooting one CF earns more than selling a thousand toasts. A thousand? Ten thousand! You think idols buy buildings for no reason? They make way more than you think!”

The problem is, that money doesn’t come right away.

I don’t know enough about contracts or profit splits to give clear answers about settlements.

That’s probably Woo-ya’s biggest concern.

With lips red from eating Shin Ramyun, Woo-ya laid out a reality even spicier than the noodles for her siblings.

“Every field has people who make bank, but what percentage is that? Watch Baek Jong-won’s Alley Restaurant. Over 80% of small businesses fail. It’s the same thing. Only the top 20% survive, and you’re just talking dreamy nonsense.”

Woo-ya raised her voice, saying becoming an idol now would be like someone who’s never cooked opening a restaurant.

Overwhelmed by her stats and logic, Yoo-kyung and Ji-han clamped their mouths shut like dogs caught stealing chicken.

I totally get where Woo-ya’s coming from.

Her realistic, gritty, capitalistic mindset actually makes me like her more.

If she sets a goal, she’d excel at anything.

I’d been quietly listening to their family talk, but I jumped in, using her Alley Restaurant example with confidence.

“That’s why Baek Jong-won’s here now.”

Even if Woo-ya has zero idol talent, with VIP’s solutions and push—the company behind GraceOne—she could see results fast.

Her looks already got a passing grade from the public (customers) and professionals (Team Leader Jeon), so all she needs is the will.

Before I could elaborate, the three siblings’ eyes widened, looking around frantically.

“Huh? Where?”

“Baek Jong-won’s here?”

“Are we going on Alley Restaurant?”

“No, no, it’s a metaphor. I’m saying me and our company will provide solutions like Alley Restaurant.”

Not giving Woo-ya a chance to respond, I launched into a relentless sales pitch like a telemarketer.

“You don’t need talent for singing or dancing. Trainers will teach you, and you’ll pick it up fast. It won’t take long. The album prep and schedule are all set—you just need to show up. So don’t worry about anything and just come.”

Woo-ya nodded politely with a few “uh-huhs,” but her expression stayed lukewarm.

I know that look.

It’s the same face I make when a friend rambles about their dream from last night.

“Cool for you, but I don’t care about your dream, so wrap it up.” That vibe.

Her hesitant lips finally parted.

“So when would I get my first paycheck?”

Here it comes.

Time to face the harsh reality I’d been avoiding, like a secret folder of questionable downloads.

Profit settlement isn’t just about Woo-ya—it’s tied to her whole family’s livelihood, so I can’t sugarcoat it.

“Honestly, I don’t know much about settlements or profits. You’d have to check the contract yourself.”

“When’s the album coming out?”

“Within three months, at the latest.”

“So I’m earning nothing for three months?”

“Yup. And even after activities start, I don’t know when settlements would happen.”

“So the other members haven’t been paid yet either?”

“Nope. They’re just racking up debt.”

“What debt?”

“Production costs, training fees—the company and artists split those 50-50.”

“What… No way I’m doing it.”

“But since you’d have minimal upfront costs, your settlement would come faster than the others—”

“No, I’m not doing it. If I stop the stall for even a month, our family’s screwed, oppa.”

Her blunt reality check silenced her siblings’ encouragement.

But a thought hit me.

What if we could cover her living expenses until settlement? Would that change her mind?

“This might be rude, but… how much are your monthly expenses?”

“Fixed costs are about 2.7 million won, but unexpected expenses pop up, and with Yoo-kyung’s college tuition coming, we need to save at least 3 million. Plus, Grandma might need knee surgery…”

Originally, their grandma ran the stall while Woo-ya worked part-time at a convenience store to cover expenses. But Grandma’s knee and back got so bad that Woo-ya took over.

Now, toast sales are higher than when Grandma ran it, so Woo-ya’s barely covering costs alone.

Due to the nature of toast, there’s a cap on daily sales no matter how many customers come, and with summer break approaching, sales will drop, so she can’t just walk away.

Feeling we’d built some rapport, I ventured into deeper questions.

“Is it your maternal grandma?”

“Yup.”

“Your parents…?”

“Mom left after Ji-han was born, and we don’t know where Dad is. To us, he’s as good as gone.”

Yoo-kyung and Ji-han grimaced reflexively at the mention of their dad.

Sounds like he was a deadbeat.

“Who’s taking care of Grandma?”

“My great-aunt comes by in the mornings, and Yoo-kyung and Ji-han take turns after school until evening.”

Everyone’s doing their best in their own way.

Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude to our creators.

The fact that I can spend my earnings on myself feels like a massive blessing.

Despite meeting them just today, I felt an odd sense of empathy for Woo-ya and her siblings, along with a strange responsibility.

Or maybe it’s just cheap pity.

Either way, I want to see these kids thrive.

That means I have to bring Woo-ya with me.

Running Pippi Toast is fine, especially since business is picking up, but if her looks and figure are going to make waves, my totally biased opinion is that she’d be better off leveraging them as an idol.

“But I’m not going to college,” Yoo-kyung said irritably, breaking her silence. “I’m quitting cram school and getting a job after classes.”

It sounded like her guilt over her sister’s sacrifices was bubbling up sharply.

Woo-ya snapped back in true sibling fashion.

“Who told you to study? Just go to college and live however you want!”

“I’m so sick of hearing you whine about money.”

“When did I whine?”

“You’re whining right now!”

“How’s that whining? He asked, so I answered!”

“I’ll take care of myself and Ji-han, so you do what you want. Go to Seoul and be an idol. You think chances like this come often?”

“When did I ever say I wanted to be an idol?”

Guys, don’t fight…

This makes me feel like I’m causing family drama.

Their Busan accents made it sound even more intense.

As I looked for an opening to intervene, Ji-han, munching on a hot bar, casually jumped in like this was a regular scene.

“Noona, you said you wanted to be a YouTuber.”

Woo-ya glanced at me, flustered.

“Hey, that… that was just talk. When did I say I’d do it? I just said, ‘Should I try it?’”

Yoo-kyung backed him up, not letting it slide.

“What are you talking about? You were even looking up equipment…”

What’s this now?

She wasn’t planning to be a ‘camgirl’, was she?

Recalling how she flashed eye smiles and subtly showed off in front of customers, I asked in a panic, “YouTuber? What kind?”

“No, one of the guys who comes to the stall said streaming toast-making on YouTube could boost business… I just thought about it.”

“So you were interested.”

“I mean… he said I could just set up a camera and do my usual thing. That’s not bad, right?”

Relieved it wasn’t some simplistic camgirl gig, I felt a spark of hope.

She’s not totally uninterested in content creation.

Sure, most people shy away from being a celebrity because of a lack of talent or the tough road to debut, but who hasn’t fantasized about it at least once?

That’s why so many flock to personal streaming, where the barrier to entry is lower.

Let’s see, 3 million won a month for living expenses…

Could the company cover that?

Maybe I could beg CEO Kim for an advance or signing bonus.

I’m even willing to chip in 500,000 won a month from my own salary.

If I frame it as “pay me back when you make it big,” it might feel less burdensome.

With a “let’s just go for it” mindset, I said to Woo-ya, “If you’re thinking about YouTube, why not just be an idol?”

“Ugh… we’re back to square one.”

“No, your biggest worry is living expenses, right? If that’s covered, would you be up for it?”

“Well…”

As she hesitated, I unleashed a 10-hit combo finisher.

“Okay, picture this: living expenses covered, plus a guarantee you’ll succeed as an idol. We’ll release the album, appear on music shows, chart on streaming platforms, then, like Yoo-kyung said, shoot CFs and do tons of concerts. These days, merch sales are huge, and with YouTube and other stuff, there are plenty of ways to make money.”

“How can you guarantee that? Everyone starts thinking they’ll make it, but most don’t.”

“I know we’ll make it. If I wasn’t sure, why would I come all the way here and do this? Right?”

“Well…”

“I’ll talk to the company about giving you 3 million won a month until your first settlement. That works, right?”

“Oh, come on, just do it! They’re offering to cover everything—what’s the problem?”

Yoo-kyung snapped, and Ji-han clung to Woo-ya’s arm, pleading cutely.

“Noona, do it. Please?”

The towering wall seemed to crumble, with her siblings cheering her on.

A major agency like VIP is practically begging her.

If she says no now, there’s something wrong with her head.

Rubbing her arm, Woo-ya thought for a moment before speaking.

“Alright, I’ll think about it, but let’s talk after it’s confirmed. Nothing’s set yet…”

“Okay, deal. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“What? You’re waiting here until tomorrow?”

“No, do what you need to do while you wait.”

“Oh…”

She’s got a sneaky charm!

I said goodbye to Woo-ya and her siblings and returned to my motel.

This might get settled faster than I thought.

But will CEO Kim actually approve?

It’s too late to call now, so I’ll try tomorrow morning.

If he says no… I’ll just have to sign another pledge against my future salary.

I finally got Woo-ya to budge—I can’t let this stall out now.

Checking the time, Free Sense’s four members should be wrapping up practice soon.

I called Seung-ah to check in.

-“Yes, oppa.”

“Practice done?”

-“Not yet. Tomorrow’s Seon-yu’s school anniversary, so we can stay till dawn.”

“You guys are working hard.”

-“How’s it going with you?”

Knowing Woo-ya’s situation, I filled Seung-ah in on our earlier conversation.

But she was pessimistic about the company covering living expenses.

-“They might give a few hundred thousand for appearance fees, but not that much.”

“If they won’t, I’ll cover it with my salary.”

-“Oppa, don’t push yourself too hard!”

“I’ll get it back later, so it’s fine.”

-“Still, that feels a bit much. Oh, hold on, Jin-ah wants to talk.”

-“Hyeon-jong-ssi.”

“Hey, Jin-ah.”

-“You’re gone for a week?”

“Yup. I’m in Busan to get your last member.”

-“Is it tough?”

“Not at all. It’s going well.”

-“Hold on. I’ll call you back.”

Jin-ah hung up and called back seconds later from her personal phone, probably stepping out of the practice room since it was quieter.

“Hey.”

-“The girls and I saw your pledge on the company bulletin board.”

“Oh, you just saw that…?”

-“You didn’t take the Team 1 manager job, right?”

“Of course not. I’m not leaving you guys.”

I said it half-jokingly, but Jin-ah’s voice softened.

-“We were kinda touched.”

“Oh, really? You’re not crying, are you?”

-“No way. A girl’s precious tears are saved for when we hit number one on music shows.”

“Haha.”

-“But… is Pippi unnie tough to get?”

“Pippi? Oh, Woo-ya? Yeah, her situation’s tricky. She says she can’t live if she doesn’t earn money.”

-“She’s a breadwinner?”

“Pretty much. Her grandma’s sick, so she’s taken over.”

-“How much money does she need?”

“About 3 million won a month. I’m gonna talk to the company.”

-“I’ll cover it.”

“Huh?”

-“I’ve got money. I’m a steady-selling author. I’m still getting settlements from events.”

“Haha, thanks for the thought.”

-“It’s not just a thought. How much is it?”

“Nah, it’s fine.”

-“A newbie showed that much grit in front of CEO Kim, so as a senior, I’ve gotta step up. 3 million a month, so 36 million for a year?”

“Hey, no way.”

-“I don’t spend much anyway. My parents don’t touch my money either. Their money’s theirs, mine’s mine.”

Is she for real?

Jin-ah’s quirky, but she’s not flaky.

This was genuine.

-“Send me your account number.”

“Hey…”

-“I’m not giving it, I’m lending it. I’ll get it back from Pippi unnie later.”

This kid’s using my own “reduce the burden” tactic on me!

“Alright, here’s the deal. I’ll talk to CEO Kim first. If that doesn’t work…”

-“No. Stop groveling to the company.”

“I’m not groveling.”

-“It makes us feel bad when you do. If you’re gonna grovel, grovel to me.”

Why’s she so cool?

Ugh, this feels wrong, but… it’s too big a sum to turn down.

I sent Jin-ah my account number.

<10,000,000 won deposited from ‘Baek Jin-ah.’>

Baek Jin-ah: [Transfer limit, so I’ll send the rest tomorrow. Sent 10 million for now.]

Woo-ya’s “transfer fee” was resolved like a dream.

What a stag beetle flex…

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