<The teaser video… The response is quite good.>
The moment we entered the meeting room, Mika spoke.
“Yes… well…”
I responded with an awkward smile.
<Of course. If it’s for this great being’s Constellation lottery revival, this level of success is still not enough. Strive further to win the world competition.>
The Star was blabbing nonsense with a lollipop in his mouth.
The reaction to the teaser video was truly encouraging. The view count was skyrocketing at an eye-popping pace, having already surpassed seven million.
Responses were coming in not just from domestic audiences, but internationally as well. Thanks to overseas YouTubers who mainly reviewed K-pop, there were reaction and analysis videos made about the teaser.
“By the way, Mika… do you smoke?”
I asked with a frown.
As she passed by me, a thick cigarette smell hit my nose.
<Yes, I’ve started.>
Sitting down, Mika smiled.
<It seems there’s this thing called a ‘smoking break’ in human society. When I meet with people for work-related meetings, even smoking becomes a means of communication…>
That was a textbook middle manager statement.
<Mr. Eunyul, are you not allowed to smoke?>
Another classic middle management line.
I let out a sigh.
Meeting up in the conference room like this, talking things over with Mika and the Star, had basically become our regular get-together.
The Star was sucking on candy beside me, while Mika sat across from us, smelling like cigarettes and grinning.
I thought to myself, Satan and Michael’s preferred snacks sure are unimpressive…
<Mikael, have a candy.>
Saying that, the Star pulled out a lollipop from his pocket and held it out.
<I’ll pass. I don’t care for sweets.>
<Oh, you don’t like candy?>
The Star looked displeased for some reason. He must be getting possessive over his title as the god of snacks.
<Then do you prefer rotten tastes? Judging by that stick made of weeds you like to chew on, your tastes are certainly unique.>
<It’s just a stimulant necessary for work. In the first place, wasn’t tobacco invented in hell by your kind?>
<I wasn’t involved.>
<…You sure love to run that mouth.>
Mika clicked her tongue and looked at me.
<By the way, Mr. Eunyul.>
“Yes?”
<How are the members doing? I’ve already looked into Dojin’s status. He seemed rather pleased.>
“Oh, Mr. Dojin…?”
Thinking back on how Madojin reacted to the teaser response—
All he did was nod with his arms crossed.
“It’s a good start,” he had said plainly.
<That’s him being pleased.>
“Ah…”
I wasn’t surprised.
Madojin was still awkward at expressing emotions.
“As for the rest of us…”
I smiled.
“…we’re in good condition, aside from the fact that we feel like we’re dying from exhaustion.”
On the day the teaser was released, the mood had been good.
When Jeong Noeul saw the final product—
“…Huh.”
He collapsed as if the strength had drained from his body.
“Wow… I must have been more stressed than I realized. I feel completely drained. My head’s blank. If I die like this, I’ll leave my laptop to you, Eunyul hyung.”
Only then did he seem to realize just how much pressure he had been under.
Meanwhile—
“Hmm…”
Han Iro froze a frame where his back was highlighted and narrowed his eyes at it.
“…Not bad. I thought I was off my game, but here—yeah, I like how I positioned my right shoulder slightly lower than my left.”
Rather than whether the results were good or bad, Han Iro coolly evaluated his performance.
The most indifferent member was Min Heejae.
“All right, calm down. The real suffering starts now, guys.”
Facing the members gathered around the desktop monitor, Min Heejae said,
“This is just the beginning. A 30-second music teaser being uploaded solves nothing. Back to practice.”
Along with Madojin, Min Heejae was one of the oldest, and given his experience in music, he naturally took on a leadership role.
As for me…
“Mika, I wanted to ask about the reality show format.”
Today, I intended to talk to Mika about the next issue we were facing.
<Ah, right.>
Mika nodded with a faint smile.
<I figured it was about time to start preparing. The MV shoot is nearly complete, and the choreography practices are going smoothly.>
We had declared during the press conference that we’d be launching a reality show—and that we’d be adding one key feature.
‘But the problem is…’
The members didn’t know what that feature was.
I only said it because I was told to, and hadn’t been informed of the actual content myself.
<…First, sorry for the late notice. There were a lot of things we had to discuss on our end. As I mentioned before, Lauréa’s activities are being influenced by Constellations who aren’t contracted—in other words, those who wish to observe CYB.>
“You really talk like a middle manager…”
I said, dumbfounded.
<Let him be. That guy’s always been uptight.>
The Star added with a sigh.
<Was it a billion years ago? I definitely warned you back then. If you keep handling things so rigidly, it’ll blow up in your face one day. I’ve given up on you now.>
<Uh, anyway…>
Looking sheepish after hearing a billion-year-old complaint, Mika scratched his neck.
<…Lauréa’s reality show will feature one additional element.>
“So what exactly is that?”
I asked, exasperated.<A child.>
Mika smiled.
<The Lauréa members will live in the dorm with a young boy. Of course, not all the time—only during program filming days.>
“…A little boy?”
I tilted my head.
Well…
A reality show where idols take care of a child wasn’t an unfamiliar format. Nothing surprising there. The issue lay elsewhere.
<You…>
The dorm wasn’t occupied by just humans.<Repeat that line with that damned smug face one more time.>
The Star pointed at Mika, looking appalled.
<I understand your rage, Kim Star.>
<Don’t call me Kim Star!>
<Anyway, it wasn’t my decision alone. It was the result of careful discussion between humans and Constellations…>
<I mean, seriously!>
Crunch. The Star bit down on the lollipop.
<You’re telling me to take care of a kid now?!>
The Star shouted, full of rage.
And so…
That’s how it turned out.
Lauréa’s reality program took on a parenting theme featuring a young boy.
The program’s title hadn’t been decided yet, but before full-scale filming began, we needed to meet the boy who’d be joining us.
Naturally, a meeting was arranged with his parents in attendance.
After finishing dance practice, we slumped into our seats, exhausted.
We’d been told in advance that the child had experience in front of a camera through YouTube.
They chose him in part because they didn’t want to force cameras onto a child who had no experience, which raised ethical concerns.
And more importantly, to reduce the risk of unexpected behavior.
Maybe that’s why—
“Hello! I’m Shim Juna!”
The boy’s name was Shim Juna.
Without a hint of nervousness, Juna greeted us cheerfully.
“Hi, Juna! How old did you say you were? I’m 17 now and turning 18 soon!”
Jeong Noeul, the most outgoing among us, spoke up first.
<…Juna is seven years old this year.>
Mika, standing next to Juna, explained curtly.
<He’s already built a following on YouTube. He’s even shot a few commercials, so he won’t be fazed by cameras.>
Well… not a bad choice.
He was a young YouTuber, and at seven years old, about to start elementary school.
“That’s right. I can do a good job!”
“You sure you’re okay with this?”
Han Iro knelt down to meet Juna at eye level.
“Of course, you’ll have to stick with us now that you’re here, but if anything ever gets too hard, make sure to let us know, okay?”
Perhaps because of his own experience as a child actor, Han Iro seemed extremely cautious about involving a child in front of cameras.
“…Ah, hello.”
And Madojin—whose biological age was younger than Juna’s—was…
“I’m Madojin…”
Clearly nervous, he awkwardly held out his hand.
“Nice to meet you, hyung!”
Juna grabbed Madojin’s hand with both of his and shook it energetically.
“I saw you on CYB!”
He beamed brightly.
“You were so cool! Especially when you rapped in Jeju Island. I even voted for you in the final stage….”
Juna was joyfully crushing Madojin’s soul.
“Ah… aaah…”
Madojin blushed, speechless.
“You smell nice.”
Min Heejae gently smiled as he patted Juna’s head.
“What do you want to be when you grow up? Do you want to be a famous YouTuber? Or maybe become a musician like us? If you want to pursue music, hyung can teach you really well…”
At his question—
“Uh, I’m not really sure yet…”
Juna thought for a moment, then answered.
“I want to protect people. Like a soldier or something…”
A completely unexpected answer.
I thought he’d say he wanted to be a successful YouTuber, or maybe an idol like us.
“…Hmm.”
I stood and walked over to Juna.
But now that I was in front of him, I didn’t know what to say.
Come to think of it, I’d never interacted with a child before.
If someone asked whether I get more nervous around adults or children—
‘…Definitely children.’
Facing such a small, fragile body made me far more nervous.
“…Hello?”
As a result, I accidentally used honorifics.
I extended my hand toward Juna.
“I’m Ryu Eunyul. You want to be a soldier? That’s really admirable. Let’s do our best together.”
“Okay! Let’s do well!”
Juna took my hand and smiled brightly.
Holding his hand, I was struck by a strange sense of déjà vu.
His curly brown hair.
His eyes, bright with deep double eyelids.
No—it wasn’t just his appearance.
There were more differences than similarities.
And yet…
‘…Somehow.’
I found myself thinking.
‘He looks like Dad.’
That kid, smiling so brightly before me—
Looked like my father, who had passed away.
Little Pink Starfish 
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