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Sometimes, being the manager of a trio of K-Pop Idols meant doing some weird things. Sometimes, it meant bending over backwards to keep them happy. Stopping by a hole-in-the-wall restaurant hidden in some no-name corner of Seoul wasn’t the craziest thing Bobby had done, but it was on the list.
The restaurant wasn’t that bad. A little dingy, but it had that well-loved “we’ve been here forever” look that Bobby often associated with restaurants that made amazing food. Everything about the decor screamed, “I know you’re here for the food, why bother with anything else?” The stern-looking woman at the counter simply fit with the general vibe of the place.
“Hello,” said Bobby as he approached the woman. “I’m here to pick up an order for Rumi.”
“Hmmm,” the woman said as she looked him up and down. “She said a man would be stopping by to pick it up for her. I was hoping that girl had finally found herself a handsome boyfriend, but you seem a bit…old for her.”
“Oh, no,” Bobby said as he waved his hands. “It’s not like that. I’m her manager. I take care of all of the little things to help her shows run smoothly. Things like scheduling, contracts, picking up food…”
“You’ve never picked up her order here before.”
“That,” said Bobby, “is because she’s getting better at letting people help her instead of trying to shoulder the whole world herself.”
The woman snorted. “That does sound like Rumi. Help an old woman sleep easier: tell me she’s at least found some sort of man to help her shoulder the more…personal burdens.”
“Everything I know about her personal life that I’m prepared to disclose is already public information,” Bobby said, the PR line sliding out of his mouth easily. “But I will say that she’s much closer with Zoey and Mira than most idols are; they help. And you can’t be that old.”
The woman fixed a firm stare at him. “How old do you think I am?”
“Hmm,” Bobby said as he tapped a finger on his chin. “I’d say no older than 29.”
The woman laughed heartily. “I’m 37.”
“Well,” Bobby said firmly, “you must moisturize.”
The woman laughed as she handed a bag of food to him. “You charmer. You must have those girls wrapped around your finger.”
“Oh, they walk all over me,” Bobby said immediately. “If you know Rumi, imagine 3 of her. They do their own thing. I just try to keep up and make sure the details are taken care of.”
“Well, at least someone is looking after them,” the woman said. “I’ve heard the industry can be grueling. It made me so worried when I heard Rumi was becoming an idol like her mom.”
“She mentioned she’d been coming here since she was a girl. You’ve been here that long?”
“It’s my family’s shop,” she said. “My father was the chef back then, and I just waited tables. Rumi was an adorable little girl and had such a lovely voice, even back then. I’m glad to see she’s still singing, but I still worry.”
“I know the feeling,” Bobby said. “I worry for them, too.”
“If I remember her schedule correctly, she’s not performing tomorrow.”
“No,” Bobby said. “The girls are supposed to be taking that day easy, but knowing them, they’ll probably start rehearsing for the next show.”
“Will they need you for that at all?”
“Not much.” Bobby shrugged. “I’ll have my phone on me and might need to take care of some admin work, but it will be an easy day for me as well.”
“I was planning to go for a walk in Naksan tomorrow evening,” she said.
“Oh,” said Bobby. “I don’t suppose you would like some company.”
“That would be lovely, I’ll meet you at the gallery at 6?”
“Sounds like a plan, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bobby gave a slight bow and left.
Sometimes, being their manager felt like it was going to give Bobby a heart attack. At least this time, it was a pleasant heart attack. Zoey had approached him with the idea of doing a cover of ‘Rawhide’ at their show in Dallas. He didn’t need to worry about putting the musical aspects together because Zoey seemed to have already taken care of that. Even the quick change into cowgirl costumes was relatively easy to arrange.
No, the heart attack was coming from the fact that Zoey’s vision of the number involved having Rumi use a bullwhip as a musical instrument. So, he was sitting through their rehearsal as they put together the accompanying dance and tried out different whips. Bobby knew nothing about whips, but Rumi apparently knew enough to complain about the handling of different whips and have strong opinions on which ones worked. Meanwhile, Zoey and Mira critiqued the acoustic qualities of each whip as they settled on which one they would use. The whole time, every time Rumi tested a whip, Bobby felt his heart leap into his throat.
He had no doubt that the crowd would go wild for the performance. A pumped-up crowd in the middle of a concert would react to that whip crack with great energy. But the rehearsal process was adding years to Bobby’s life.
Then, he noticed how things lined up in the dance choreography and the singing. The girls harmonized on the line “Wishing my gal was by my side” while their dancing lined up to put them shoulder to shoulder. Bobby just knew the Polytrix shippers would go feral at that detail. So, before the concert, Bobby pulled the PR monkeys into a meeting.
“There’s going to be shipping fuel,” Bobby told them. “Everyone needs to be ready to handle that.”
“Shipping fuel between which pair?”
“Polytrix,” Bobby said.
The crowd groaned at that. “We barely have that contained,” someone said.
“I know,” said Bobby as he placated the team. “I don’t expect to make those rumors go away, but please keep them to dull embers rather than a raging fire.”
His monkeys at their stations, Bobby got ready for the concert itself. True to his prediction, at the first crack of the whip, the crowd absolutely lost their minds. Zoey had proposed the cover as a one-off for a concert, but he might have to push them to do a studio version after this.
Then came the moment, and damn his girls; Zoey and Mira ad-libbed the choreography. Though they looked coordinated, so the two might have planned it together, maybe. On the line “Wishing my gal was by my side,” not only did they step into line with Rumi, they pressed their shoulders into her on the word “gal,” which elicited a slight surprised yelp from the latter woman (that thankfully the mics barely picked up). That was fine, but the problem was that the gesture also elicited an intense blush on Rumi’s face.
Bobby sighed as he sent a text to his PR monkeys before the song was even done: “Dull! Embers!”
Sometimes, being their manager was the most wonderful experience in the world. When the girls asked him to stop by their apartment for a private meeting, Bobby stopped by without a care in the world. There were a lot of different things the girls might drop on him with a meeting like this, but they were never as stressful as the sort of stuff they casually threw at him in the middle of a concert. A planned meeting meant that they were at least planning ahead.
“We want you to hear it from us, before any rumors start to spread,” Rumi said as she took Zoey and Mira’s hands. “We’ve decided to enter a relationship. The three of us. Together.”
“Ah,” said Bobby. “Well, you aren’t ahead of the rumors, but I’m happy for you and I’m glad you told me.”
“We’re not ahead of the rumors?” asked Mira. “How long have there been rumors?”
“Um…at least 5 years,” Bobby said. “I don’t have an exact date for the first Polytrix post, but we’ve been managing the community for over 5 years.”
“We’ve only been official for a week!” Zoey said.
“Well, the signs were there, and the fans picked up on that,” Bobby said. “But without it being official, we’ve tried to keep those rumors from firing up too much.” He frowned as he thought for a bit. “Wait, if you’ve only been together for a week, you weren’t together yet in Dallas?”
“No,” Rumi said. “What happened in Dallas?”
Bobby stared at his girls in horrified fascination. Slowly, he pulled up a photo from the concert of the three girls pressed together with Rumi’s face bright red, and showed it to them. “This was during the line ‘Wishing my gal was by my side.’”
The three girls stared at the photo as blood drained from their faces.
“Oh no,” said Zoey, “ we’re the useless lesbians.”
“I wouldn’t call you useless,” Bobby said. “But yes, I saw this coming. Apparently, before you did.”
His girls nodded their heads in unison.
“So, the question is: How do you want to manage the fans?” Bobby asked. “Keep the status quo? Immediate announcement? Drop some hints and slow-burn some hype? The last one will probably get you the most press and social media activity. It’s probably also the easiest.”
“Let’s go with the third option,” Rumi said. “What do we need to do?”
Bobby sent a quick text to his PR monkeys: “Those embers? Let them flare up, slowly. Polytrix is a go! Soft launch.”
“Okay,” Bobby said. “I’ve got the PR team working on their part. For now, we’ll have you drop a hint or two.”
“Fox puns,” Zoey said.
“No!” Rumi and Mira countered immediately.
“I was thinking more stuff like Dallas,” Bobby said. “Maybe a well-placed hickey.”
“Like this?” Zoey asked as she rolled up her sleeve.
Bobby closed his eyes. “Zoey, is that a bite mark?”
“Yup!”
“Why do you have a bite mark on your shoulder?”
“Because Rumi likes to mark her territory!”
Mira groaned, and Bobby opened his eyes to see that Rumi’s face was bright red.
“More touchy-feely in the dancing,” Mira said with a deadpan expression. “Got it, Bobby.”
“Thank you, Mira. I’m glad one of you is sensible.” Bobby paused and frowned. “And it horrifies me that Mira is filling that role. Rumi, no biting people on stage. Zoey, no being bitten on stage.”
Zoey started to protest, but Rumi covered her mouth and said, “Yes, Bobby.”
“Okay.” Bobby nodded. “This isn’t a bad thing. Play this right, and the fans will love it. Also, on a more personal note, I’m happy for you. I love you girls, and I love that you love each other.”
“We love you, too, Bobby,” all three girls said with a smile.