“You’re learning composition?”

“Yeah.”

If I wanted those guys to stop focusing so much on me, I needed something to occupy myself with. Out of all the options, composition seemed like the healthiest hobby that wasn’t self-destructive.

“So now you can’t be satisfied unless you handle everything from A to Z yourself? Were my songs actually bad? Or are you trying to steal your little brother’s livelihood too?”

“I’m just interested in it.”

More than anything, composition was something I had never really tried before. At most, I’d only ever written a few bass riffs.

I’d promised Kang Giyeon that I would try to change, so I needed to keep my word. I didn’t want to remain the kind of stagnant person who stopped growing just because life was hard and stayed trapped in pessimism.

Timing-wise, this was perfect too.

Lee Cheonghyeon leaned against the sofa I was sitting on.

Then, after thinking for a moment, he said:

“Not bad. You already know chord structures.”

“Right.”

“For an excuse to use your laptop more, it’s pretty convincing.”

“Oh, it’s that obvious?”

“You think Seongbin hyung wouldn’t notice?”

“Even if he notices, I think it’s within the range he’ll overlook.”

“That’s incredible....”

Lee Cheonghyeon clapped in admiration. He even complimented my extraordinary way of thinking.

“Composition’s good. Who are you learning from? The A&R team? If you ask Seongbin hyung, he could probably get recommendations from people in his department too.”

“I’ll learn the basics from you.”

“Me?”

Lee Cheonghyeon’s eyes widened.

“I thought hyung would want to learn from an actual professional teacher.”

“The moment you started putting songs on the market, you became a professional too.”

“I’m only twenty.”

“Professionalism is evaluated by skill, not age.”

Even after I explained it, Lee Cheonghyeon still looked dazed.

“I know you’re busy. You can refuse.”

“No way. I should repay the hyung who opened the gates of early education for me.”

“Just throw assignments at me. I’ll study on my own.”

“You sure? I might work you as hard as you worked me back when you used to keep me up all night.”

“I’m basically an expert at staying up all night anyway.”

Lee Cheonghyeon laughed.

It had been a while since he’d laughed out loud like that after the incident.

Despite threatening me so much, he even personally made a terminology guide and actively supported my new hobby.

Studying composition was more fun than I’d expected.

Maybe because he’d started out self-taught himself, but Lee Cheonghyeon’s “Building the Basics” class was perfect for beginners.

Since all I really did was listen to music and memorize terminology, even Jeong Seongbin didn’t interfere much.

During the break period, he even declared that he wouldn’t be using his “ginseng or death” notebook anymore. Right in front of me, he packed the notebook into a box and sent it to his parents’ house via quick delivery.

“Hyung, eat this.”

A steaming block of soft tofu was placed on my desk.

When I turned my head, Park Juu was standing there holding a soy sauce dish and a small plate.

The plate was piled high with stir-fried kimchi.

“What’s with the tofu?”

“I saw an article saying beans are good for brain development....”

I suddenly felt like a student preparing for entrance exams.

I thanked him and accepted the kimchi.

“But Juu.”

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you preparing for finals? Cheonghyeon started ages ago.”

Park Juu stayed silent for a long while before simply turning around and leaving.

The tofu was warm and nutty.

The problem was that studying only filled a small part of the day.

Most of the time was painfully boring.

Even if I absentmindedly plucked at my bass without connecting it to an amp or went to the gym, there was still a limit to how much that could fill such long days.

“Is there seriously nothing fun to do?”

“Why have you become so addicted to fun?”

Lee Cheonghyeon asked with genuine concern.

It wasn’t that I was addicted to fun. It was more like I’d suddenly become rich in free time because of an unexpected vacation.

Though with the contract deadline approaching and the requirement to win a Daesang before it expired, I supposed I was a free-time millionaire with limits.

Gathering my courage, I went to Jeong Seongbin.

Then I spoke in the most pitiful voice possible.

“Seongbin, can’t I at least edit photos?”

“No.”

As expected, Jeong Seongbin was firm.

I pulled out my secret weapon.

“Simple repetitive work is the best for clearing your head though.”

“Hyung, I’m planning to buy clothes. Want to look through my cart with me?”

Instantly changing the subject, Jeong Seongbin shoved his phone in front of my face.

This was exactly what I imagined the purchase list of someone who watched maybe two lookbook videos before buying ten outfits online solely based on model photos would look like.

It wasn’t terrible.

But it was only “not terrible.”

What infuriated me was the undeniable fact that Jeong Seongbin’s fashion sense was still leagues above Choi Jeho’s.

I rapidly recalled all the styling combinations fans had desperately begged Jeong Seongbin to wear.

Slightly casual preppy looks with round glasses.

Long coats with dress shoes.

College-student-style casual outfits with backpacks....

I added matching items to some outfits and deleted others after asking for permission.

The denim cap in front of me was especially testing my patience.

“The denim cap’s a little rough, Seongbin.”

“You think so...?”

“Maybe I just don’t understand fashion well enough. There might be things that suit you less, but nothing that outright doesn’t suit you. Wait a second. I’m trying to think of a concept where the denim cap would work perfectly—”

“No, hyung! I don’t even like denim that much!”

Jeong Seongbin hurriedly deleted the hat from his cart.

He seemed to love it though.

There was even a denim jacket lower down.

After we finished organizing the list and finally paid for everything, Jeong Seongbin suggested we pick clothes for me next.

“I already have plenty of clothes.”

“They’re all black.”

Since that was objectively true, I obediently browsed the shopping mall.

The moment I reflexively tried selecting black in the color filter, Jeong Seongbin stopped me.

Turtlenecks and plain shirts were banned too.

It was an extremely difficult time.

“So that’s why this floral shirt arrived?”

A few days later, Kang Giyeon—who had volunteered as cameraman for the unboxing video—spoke in disbelief.

“Let me say this in advance. I never once mentioned this floral short-sleeve shirt.”

“You picked the color though.”

Jeong Seongbin argued back.

Well, that was because he’d recommended bright purple....

“Where exactly am I supposed to wear this...?”

Kang Giyeon’s expression turned serious.

Apparently the bright yellow floral shirt looked aggressively avant-garde to someone with actual fashion sense.

“Where else but Hawaii?”

Lee Cheonghyeon added.

He was biting his lip tightly, clearly trying not to laugh.

I gestured for him to go put on some lip balm already, and he burst out cackling before running away.

“Is it really that bad?”

Jeong Seongbin tilted his head.

The astonishing part was that he didn’t seem discouraged at all despite everyone’s reactions.

To his eyes, the shirt genuinely looked good.

I’d freely messed around with Jeong Seongbin’s shopping cart too, so I had tried to fully respect his fashion picks in return.

But the more I looked at the shirt, the more convinced I became that this had been a mistake.

“No, it’s... unique....”

Park Juu awkwardly took Jeong Seongbin’s side, probably out of friendship.

“It’s fine.”

Choi Jeho, meanwhile, genuinely meant it.

That bastard definitely would’ve asked us to buy one for him too if he’d known the shop sold orange floral shirts.

“Gang견, where did we put the fan-sign items again?”

“Probably in one of the boxes on the alpha room shelves?”

After asking where the fan-sign items were, Lee Cheonghyeon suddenly came back holding a pair of tinted fashion sunglasses.

The gold-rimmed glasses had trapezoid-shaped lenses and hovered somewhere between retro and tacky.

“Hyung, put on the shirt and wear these.”

“I already feel like my image’s going to be ruined before I even put them on.”

“I’m confident you’ll write a brand-new chapter in idol visual history.”

Pushed along by Lee Cheonghyeon’s encouragement, I headed to my room.

When I came back out wearing even the knee-length shorts he’d coordinated for me, explosive reactions greeted me.

Lee Cheonghyeon rolled around on the floor laughing while mocking me.

Kang Giyeon, holding the camcorder, covered his rapidly rising lips with one hand.

Jeong Seongbin wheezed trying to hold in laughter.

I even clearly saw Park Juu’s trembling pupils.

“You look like someone from an old movie.”

If even Choi Jeho was reacting like this, wasn’t that enough said already?

I genuinely couldn’t imagine how the Sparklers would react when they eventually saw this in our self-produced content.

Thank god the “gain personal fans” KPI hadn’t come up this time.

The only thing this look could create was memes.

“It’s such a waste that only we get to see this.”

“Don’t worry. Once the self-produced content goes up on MeTube, the whole world will see it. And then I’ll receive glowing praise like, ‘Iwol, your fashion is more dazzling than the sunset on Vancouver Beach.’”

Lee Cheonghyeon nearly burst into tears laughing.

Apparently he found it tragic that only Spark got to witness my glorious appearance in person.

“What about dressing him like this and sending him on a trip?”

“Giyeon, is that really something you should be saying to a man who’s already become this?”

“Hyung, do you really hate the clothes I picked that much...?”

Kang Giyeon and Jeong Seongbin attacked me from both sides.

What made it even more maddening was that neither of them seemed malicious.

My mind was going numb.

“A trip sounds good. Vacations are supposed to involve travel.”

Lee Cheonghyeon eagerly agreed with his friend.

There was supposedly an old saying that the person stopping a fight was more annoying than the person throwing punches.

Then why were there no people stopping this and only people encouraging it?

This was unfair slander of the highest order.

The “Turn Kim Iwol Into An Old-Timey Guy And Send Him Traveling” project advanced rapidly among the members excluding Kim Iwol himself.

I figured they were just talking nonsense and ignored it....

“Hyung, do you still have your passport?”

“Don’t we all? We made them together before debut. Why?”

“To book plane tickets.”

...A group overseas trip got scheduled.

“Do I seriously have to wear the floral shirt?”

“Come on, hyung. Do you really think we’d place such a heavy burden on you alone?”

Lee Cheonghyeon placed a hand on my shoulder with a trustworthy expression.

“We’re all wearing them.”

“Have you lost your minds?!”

Unable to accept reality, I stared blankly as Lee Cheonghyeon showed me a screenshot.

‘Colorful Floral Shirts (5+1).’

The option names were so clear it felt like someone had shoved a magnifying glass against my eyes.

Colorful Floral Shirt_Red

Colorful Floral Shirt_Green

Colorful Floral Shirt_Blue

Colorful Floral Shirt_Pink

And....

Colorful Floral Shirt_Orange

“How could you do this? How?!”

“If you buy five, they give you one free.”

Lee Cheonghyeon remained completely unfazed by my scream.

Instead, he kindly scrolled up to reveal the hidden option.

Colorful Floral Shirt_Black

“I’ll gift this one to you as a souvenir.”

Seeing Kang Giyeon’s message beneath the screenshot—

Purchase complete

—made rage erupt inside me.

The Spark dorm, once decorated only with beautiful things, was swallowed up by cheap floral shirts in an instant.