That controversial comment... The more you think about it, the more it makes you wonder, doesn't it?
I mean, celebrities do get paid for their work, so they are office workers in a sense...
But for them to call themselves office workers feels a bit... off?
What do you guys think?
Comments
They're office workers. Being an office worker isn't anything special.
If you get paid to work, you're an office worker.
Fuck, celebrities aren't office workers. I've said it a hundred times: bastards who don't work 9-to-6 shouldn't joke about being office workers, I swear to god.
└ By that logic, aren't freelancers office workers too? What about flex time? Business owners?
└└ You're really going at it with the nitpicking. Just get the gist of it...
If celebrities are office workers, they can join Mollaind too, right?¹
└ They'd have the four major insurances too, right?²
└└ I don't know;
Celebrities aren't office workers lol. Honestly, they live the easy life, don't they? They make tons of money without any hardship.
Damn, I should've been a celebrity too ㅜ
└ For real. Do they have overtime? Do they have a hopeless boss who makes work hell? Do they have coworkers they can't stand?
└└ Same same same. They don't know the feeling of crying yourself to sleep every night because you don't want to go to work, I swear.
But why are these questions suddenly popping up since yesterday? Is it some kind of meme?
└ Yesterday some comedian made a joke about celebrities being office workers too lol
"Guys. We're almost there, so let's start getting ready."
"Okay."
With a click, the post he'd been reading disappeared.
As the light from his phone faded, the inside of the van grew even darker. In the time between evening and night, a black van was slipping along Gangbyeonbuk-ro toward the exit.
The destination was an art hall by the Han River. It was the venue for the last fan sign event of their current single album, which was wrapping up today. Watching the van enter the familiar building entrance he'd visited several times before, Han Sawon narrowed his eyes.
"Sawon, you haven't been wearing glasses lately, but you've got them on today. Is it more comfortable to wear glasses even with contacts in?"
As he was adjusting his glasses, his manager's voice came from the front seat, and Sawon nodded.
"Oh... I just put them on briefly when looking at screens."
"Yeah? What were you looking at?"
"Um..."
At his troubled expression, the manager tilted his head in confusion. But then, with practiced ease, he took the glasses case from Sawon's hand and smiled.
"Whatever it is, look at it later. Let's get ready to get out first. Are you hungry? Want some juice? What about your headache earlier?"
"I took some medicine and I'm fine. Not hungry yet either."
"I'm hungry!"
Someone with bleached hair in the front seat suddenly raised his hand. The manager clicked his tongue at Rimin.
"Rimin, you're on a diet."
"Ugh, seriously. All the promotions are over. What diet?"
"Does your idol life end just because promotions are over? People are already posting online every day that you've gained weight, so the Director gave a special order. You gain weight easily, so you need to manage yourself constantly..."
"Ugh, I got it. It's vacation starting today anyway, so what. Our Manager Song, you're too uptight."
"Right. Once we finish this, it's really vacation, so let's hang in there. Today's the last overtime."
At the word "overtime," Sawon's shoulders flinched.
Han Sawon looked out the dark window. It was indeed quite late, and their schedule was just about to begin, so even if they jokingly compared this situation to "overtime," it wasn't particularly strange.
Still, the reason the manager's joke bothered him more than usual today was probably because of the post he'd just read.
"Anyway, people really have nothing better to do. Whether celebrities are office workers or not. Is that even important?"
Limin muttered as he loudly slurped his new favorite diet drink, apple cider vinegar. Manager Song, who immediately caught on despite the few words said, laughed and responded.
"You're talking about that, right? I saw the news too. That comedian's controversial comment. What was it again? He said celebrities are office workers too or something? But why's everyone giving him such a hard time? Honestly, isn't he right? Look at us. We're working overtime right now."
"Ugh. I don't care if they're office workers or not, it's just annoying. It hasn't been that long since our last broadcast! We got first place! We did a fucking amazing live! We even hit trending! Let's talk about us. It feels like all our spotlight got stolen by some other drama. Everywhere today, it's all anyone talks about."
"Oh. So that's what it was about."
The manager laughed for a while, amused that Rimin's anger was directed at something completely different. Meanwhile, the van was smoothly gliding toward the front of the art hall building. When the car finally came to a complete stop, the manager clapped his hands loudly.
"Alright, alright. Save the talk for later. Let's get out first. Fans are gathered out front, so be careful when we go out. Lots of fans with cameras today."³
"Ugh. This is why I hate this place. I prefer venues with a direct connecting passage."
Even while grumbling, Rimin was the fastest to check his face in the mirror.
Of course, Sawon wasn't much different. Even though he'd already stopped by a designated salon and had everything from hair to makeup perfectly done, he only stood up after checking himself one more time in the mirror the manager held out for him.
"Guys. Let's hurry up and go out. Time is tight. Hurry. Seju, get up too..."
The black van's door slid open.
At the name called just before getting out, Sawon flinched for a moment, but it was soon drowned out by the cheers that followed.
*
Are celebrities, and idols, office workers?
There was a separate reason why this seemingly trivial proposition kept lingering in Han Sawon's head.
It was because Han Sawon had once been deeply absorbed in that very question.
It was probably around their first year since debut. Backed by a powerful agency and with a guaranteed hit from a famous composer, the group Hertz had debuted with what people call a golden spoon in their mouth, immediately drawing attention from the start and quickly rising to popularity.
So if he complained about being tired, someone would surely point fingers and call it spoiled whining. Han Sawon knew that well, which was why the only person he could pour out his miserable complaints to was his own older brother, Han Iwon.
"Hyung. I'm really struggling. Everyone says they're jealous of me, but I really want to quit. It's too hard, hyung..."
The reasons he was struggling were complex. For one thing, Sawon didn't think he was the right type for an idol.
First, talent. Talent was the problem.
Han Sawon didn't have any particularly outstanding talent. As for singing, sure, he'd heard people say he was good at it since he was young, but at best it was karaoke-level. And dancing was truly dreadful. Since he was hopeless at anything physical, he needed bone-grinding effort just to do his part on stage.
But talent wasn't the only problem.
Though many people would gasp to hear it, Han Sawon believed that what really mattered for an idol wasn't singing or dancing. The most important thing was personality. In that regard, Han Sawon was truly the worst.
"It really doesn't suit me. You know it too, hyung. I've been a homebody who just watched TV all day since I was a kid... And now I'm smiling and talking in front of people every day... It's so draining and exhausting. It's different from trainee days. If I'd known, I shouldn't have shown off about becoming an idol. Hyu-ung..."
His words trailed off lazily, dragged out by the alcohol he'd drunk far beyond his usual tolerance. Terrified that someone might snap a photo, he couldn't even go out to a bar. Instead, in the kitchen of his family home, he tore into dried pollock to eat with soju his brother Han Iwon had bought for him, sniffling the whole time. And then he poured out his endless grievances.
Talent. Personality. Work. People. And people. Damn people... More precisely, talk about "that bastard."
After listening to his youngest brother's rambling for quite a while, the second son of the Han family, Han Iwon, finally uttered the very words that would go on to significantly impact Han Sawon's idol life.
"Hey. Sawon. But everyone lives like that. Me, and Ilwon-hyung too. Huh? That's just what working life is. Kid."
"Working... life?"
"Yeah. When your shitty boss throws a fit, you endure it. When they tell you to do something, whether you can or can't, you do it! When the bastard Assistant Manager Kim next to you throws a fit, you endure it. Because that's what being an office worker is. You think being an idol is any different?"
"...Is that how it is."
"Yeah. Everyone lives like that. Even when it's shitty or crappy, you endure it. So whenever that happens, think about it. This is the workplace, not me. Right now, I'm not Han Iwon the private citizen. I'm fucking Staff Han. My real life starts after I clock out! Like that."
"...You live like that, hyung?"
"Of course. Fuck. Every single day. I killed that bastard Kim in my head over a hundred times today too!"
Wielding the torn dried pollock like a toy knife, Han Iwon poured soju for his youngest brother.
From the moment this guy, who was quiet by nature and whose only hobby, by his own admission, was watching TV in his room, had suddenly gotten scouted and declared he was going to be an idol, it had been worrying. And sure enough, this day had come.
But if it was an issue that was bound to blow up someday, perhaps it was better that it happened now.
With eyes somehow calmer than before, Han Iwon patted his youngest brother's shoulder as he kept muttering the same words over and over.
"Working life... Working life... I am an office worker..."
These words, which Han Iwon would no longer even remember, became idol Han Sawon's life motto from that day forward.
No matter how hard things got, or when he faced something "shitty and crappy," as Han Iwon would say, the thought "this is just a job, and once I clock out, everything's over" somehow put his mind at ease.
And so, despite being completely unsuited for the entertainment industry, he managed to more or less convincingly act the part of Hertz's model professional idol, "Sawon," using that magical incantation.
His second brother was right. After all, it was all just to make a living, wasn't it? In that sense, comparing idols to office workers was a rather fitting analogy.
Besides...
"Sawon! Um... Sorry."
As Sawon got out of the van and was about to enter the fan sign venue, the manager came running up to him urgently. Then, with a deeply troubled look in his eyes, he opened and closed his mouth.
When the manager made this kind of expression in front of Sawon, the reason was almost always the same. Sawon nodded calmly.
"...It's fine. What seat am I?"
"Yeah, the second... We have to keep rotating the seating arrangement, so it can't be helped. Sorry."
"Why would you be sorry? This is all just work. I'm fine. Really."
"Still..."
Han Sawon knew exactly why the manager was still on edge. Despite saying he was fine, his own expression remained stiff. But that was something beyond Sawon's control.
No matter how well he understood it was unavoidable, it still didn't feel good.
Office worker. I am an office worker... I am an office worker... And soon, it's time to clock out.
Han Sawon silently recited that magical incantation again, then sucked in a breath. He barely managed to pull up the corners of his mouth into a smile, waved, and entered the fan sign venue.
"Sawon! Look over here!"
Making appropriate eye contact with the barrage of camera flashes already going off, Han Sawon slowly approached the row of desks lined up. Then, just as the manager had said, he slowly pulled out the chair in the second seat from the inside.
"Seju! Choi Seju!"
But at that moment, a fan's cheer made Han Sawon freeze. It was a name he couldn't ignore even if he wanted to, and at the same time, he sensed a presence behind him. Someone who had passed by him ever so naturally pulled out the chair next to his and plopped down.
Han Sawon still hadn't even managed to sit down, frozen in place.
Countless camera shutters were going off, but there was one thing no one caught.
It was that Han Sawon's hand, resting on the chair, was trembling ever so slightly.
The man, who hadn't paid Sawon the slightest attention and had already settled comfortably into his seat, made eye contact with each fan calling his name, leisurely providing service time before the fan sign had even officially started.⁴
He wore a radiant smile, impossible to reconcile with the person who had just whispered these words into Sawon's ear:
"Fuck. I'm next to Han Sawon? Today's seating arrangement is fucking awful."
