Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols
SS Chapter 93: The World's Best Photographer Competition (4)
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TL: FoodieMonster007
Park Joowoo took over for the next presentation. His wrinkle-free cuffs and silver-rimmed glasses erased any trace of the dapper office worker who had dominated the screen until just a moment ago.
"Let's… see the photo."
With his short and concise opening, the model changed. Kang Kiyeon, his mustang jacket thrown open, stood crookedly in front of a worn-out sign, looking to the side.
A shocking item was visible through the slightly parted jacket. His inner shirt was a sleeveless one!
"What's with his shoulders?!"
Lee Cheonghyeon was horrified. A sleeveless shirt with an autumn jacket was definitely not a common combination.
However, the demand for it certainly existed. I remembered seeing a post somewhere saying that a man who wears a sleeveless shirt under a mustang jacket is a true man.
Perhaps because he had been working out intensely for his solo activities, his shoulder line was perfect. His chic, smoldering gaze was also excellent.
The surface of the sign, with its peeling paint and rust spots, matched the unique atmosphere of the mustang jacket very well. The faint orange tint that brought out the autumn leaves, likely adjusted with a filter, was reminiscent of a movie still or a Hollywood paparazzi shot.
I was relieved he hadn't learned any weird fashion sense from abroad, but to think he'd come back having mastered the sunset-glow hot guy style…
I had let my guard down. I had forgotten that Park Joowoo was a fast learner.
"Did Kiyeon willingly agree to this concept?"
Jeong Seongbin's eyes went wide. Due to the 'eighth-grade syndrome' issue that blew up during 『MooNStruck IOve』 and the suspicion that he wandered around topless after showering, Kang Kiyeon was extremely sensitive about being seen as someone with a 'macho complex'.
It was true despite the delinquent-like charm he was born with, which he could not help. Although he became an object of envy for men his age, it was an unwanted talent for the person in question… It was ironic.
"Yeah… we also received advice from a mentor."
"A mentor?"
Surprisingly, Team JooKi also had a helper. While Jeong Seongbin and I were becoming coat-obsessed parrots, rummaging through other people's closets, Park Joowoo had apparently been in a corner using his 'phone a friend' lifeline.
I politely raised one hand and asked, "Who did you get advice from?"
Since Park Joowoo himself dressed stylishly, I wondered who on earth he would ask for advice.
"It was my older sister…"
He had sent an S.O.S. to his elder sister. Park Joowoo then recited, line by line, the memo where he had written down his sister's advice.
It was long and detailed, but it could be summarized simply.
"The main concept is the nineties Hong Kong movie protagonist style…"
From the styling and the faded color palette to the hairstyle swept back with a few strands of hair left out, the hands-in-pockets pose, and the slightly bent waist, it was a perfectly understandable concept.
"Your sister seems to have a deep understanding of male charm."
"I agree."
Lee Cheonghyeon nodded at my comment. If he had added even one over-the-top accessory like a chain necklace, it would have been a failure, but he had masterfully avoided it.
"To create volume with just the hairstyle and the mustang jacket on a slim and simple silhouette… It's moving. Don't we get scorecards?"
"I'm sorry, but did you come here as a judge, sir?"
A criticism unfitting of such high praise came my way. Instead of answering, I made a gesture at Kang Kiyeon to be quiet.
At this point in your career, you should learn to enjoy the compliments instead of being embarrassed. Besides, strictly speaking, this is praise for stylist Joowoo.
"My sister did say that the men she watches shouldn't come out of the monitor…"
"Stop, let's protect your sister's human rights!"
Before any more dangerous remarks could follow, Joowoo's time was brought to an abrupt end. Kang Kiyeon fastened his mustang jacket again and sat down quietly.
"Is it our turn next?"
Lee Cheonghyeon, who could have been called a bundle of blankets, stood up abruptly. Choi Jeho followed, with the hideous pizza blanket tied around his waist.
Seeing this mess, I felt so grateful and sorry for the fans who still loved Choi Jeho that I had no idea how much we would have to doll him up for the next comeback.
"First of all, I'm sure you're all curious why we stood in front of the camera in this state."
"Are you planning to hold a retirement ceremony?"
"Hurry up and tell us the reason. Iwol-hyung's eyes are about to roll back into his head."
Kang Kiyeon's friendship, worrying about his friend's idol lifespan, was tear-jerking. Not that I actually cried.
I was on the verge of getting dry eye syndrome from not blinking, determined to see what kind of excuses those guys would spew.
"Before Iwol-hyung passes out, I'll present first."
Lee Cheonghyeon stepped forward confidently, looking in a way that did nothing to calm me down. The grand dream of holding a visual expo within five years to make the Republic of Korea widely known as a Lee Cheonghyeon-possessing nation scattered more chaotically than puffed rice powder.
"Jeho-hyung's concept is… ta-da! The athletic upperclassman!"
For all the fuss of dramatically whipping off the blanket, his bottoms were ordinary. They were shorts similar to the ones he had worn for the Naidas photoshoot and received as a sponsored item.
Even though they were a little shorter than what one would wear to the gym, they were not impactful enough to be hidden under a blanket.
"Isn't it a little weak?"
Kang Kiyeon's opinion was the same as mine. For a guy who had exposed his lateral deltoids for the sake of one perfect shot, a pair of shorts was hardly going to impress him.
Compared to Kang Kiyeon, who had even shown his collarbones, a hoodie and shorts were laughable.
"It might seem that way. Before I reveal the photo, I hope you'll all remember the Jeho-hyung you see before you."
Lee Cheonghyeon's hand gestured up and down at Choi Jeho. What more was there to remember about a sight I saw every day at the dorm?
With the feeling that I would not let it slide if they produced a mediocre piece unworthy of the center's honor, I watched on. The moment the photo was revealed, my mouth dropped open like a heron's beak.
"Wait a minute…!"
"Is that okay?! Wait, just a moment!"
"Hey, you…!"
The other three went into an uproar. Park Joowoo, who had shouted 'Wait a minute', grabbed a cushion and used it to cover the bottom of the screen.
The number of times Park Joowoo had been this agile since his debut could be counted on one hand. Behind a horrified Jeong Seongbin, Kang Kiyeon was busy pointing an accusatory finger at Lee Cheonghyeon.
It was definitely a simple photo. Instead of wearing the hood, he was touching the edges of the fabric draped over his shoulders with both hands, as if he were about to put the hood on.
It was a pose seen before in several of Choi Jeho's photoshoots.
The background was also familiar. The spot under the sunny window was where Lee Cheonghyeon always threw his bag after coming home.
Choi Jeho was leaning against the wide wall that was revealed after the bag and storage box were moved. The subject was just that.
The problem was his lower body. There was a reason the team was in an uproar over a perfectly normal pose where one leg was stretched out and the other knee was casually propped up.
It was because the thigh of the propped-up leg was incredibly exposed.
My goodness.
I could not believe my eyes. The shorts were only about 5cm different in length from what he usually wore, but the area of skin seeing the light of day was on another level.
The deep shadows, which clearly showed where and how the muscles were positioned, raised a red flag for the review of our wholesome idol self-produced content. If gravity had been just a little stronger, we would have had to plaster subtitles all over the data he brought in, calling it the 'photo of a lifetime'.
"Isn't it amazing that he can produce this kind of quality in such a shabby outfit? This is the kind of person spArk's center is!"
A madness glinted in Lee Cheonghyeon's eyes. His obsession was also evident in the socks that came halfway up his shins.
The two black stripes on the cuffs of the pristine white socks added a clean impression. The fact that he had framed the shot from the ankles up, cutting off the feet, showed a fierce conviction to display what robust sexiness was all about.
"I'll acknowledge it…"
My opinion on how good it felt did not matter. The standard was, and always would be, the fans' reaction.
The moment I saw the photo, I had a premonition. It was a photo that Sparkler could not help but love.
Lee Cheonghyeon wore a triumphant expression.
"And at this point, I reveal my outfit!"
Along with his bold voice, he threw the blanket behind him. My mouth fell open again like an automatic door, but the reason was different.
It was not because it was moving.
"What the?"
It was because it was fucking awful.
The image reflected on my corneas must have been distorted on its way to my brain. Otherwise, there was no reason, need, or value in matching that fashion with Lee Cheonghyeon's face.
"Hyung, are you okay…?" Park Joowoo asked, still looking like a respectable manager.
I glanced at the neatly dressed Park Joowoo in his clean shirt, then shifted my gaze back to the presenter.
The attire I had hoped was a dream was still there. A bright yellow shirt like pajamas, white baggy pants made of cotton that were closer in shape to balloon pants, a scarf tied tightly around his waist as if inspired by a layered skirt, and the collar of his inner shirt… no, a human E-collar, peeking out over the shirt collar.
To this was added a vest with a print so flashy it could cause an optical illusion, and a jacket with an even flashier, clashing pattern. The wide-open jacket revealed the tightly cinched vest within.
I tried hard to deny reality. If I looked up just a little, I could see a face that would make people cheer and flash their cameras like the sunrise on January 1st.
However, if I lowered my gaze just a little, I would meet the eyes of eyeball-like patterns that were beyond just 'fucking awful', and if I looked up, I could not avoid the hot-pad-style hair accessory that looked like it was made from a stolen beaded curtain.
A Mini Mini bag, too small for even earphones to fit, and a belt accessory jangled on top of the scarf, asserting their presence. The fluttering fabric of the scarf seemed to be mocking me.
I could not breathe. My world was collapsing in real time.
"Do we get time to go wash our eyes?"
"Hahaha!" Lee Cheonghyeon laughed heartily.
Fuck, you think this is funny?
He might as well have worn a trash bag. If he had, he might have at least been recognized for his artistic spirit, protesting the absurd fashion industry, and besides, what was fundamentally different between that outfit and a trash bag?
My eyelids twitched. A powerful emotion swept over me, an anger so intense I could not remember the last time I had felt anything like it.