Chapter Text
Thursday, February 15th, 2024
February 15, 2024, was a typical day for Yoo Joonghyuk. He pissed off his manager by refusing another inane brand deal, he streamed DotShot ranked, and he went to “sleep,” which translated to staring at the ceiling with his arms crossed over his stomach, unseeing eyes taking in the pitch black.
February 15th, 2025, was not going to be a typical day.
Saturday, February 17th, 2024
It was a rainy Saturday morning when Yoo Joonghyuk found himself without a manager, and therefore, without a clue how to advance his career without crashing and burning spectacularly. After all, not even he could complete every task he needed done, because it was simply too much work for one person to handle. There was only so much time in a day, and he couldn’t be two places at once. As well, he needed to be on a panel soon for a Q&A with his team members yesterday, so, in other words, Yoo Joonghyuk was screwed.
“Fuck Soo Ahn,” Yoo Joonghyuk muttered darkly under his breath, thinking of the woman and her bottle-blonde hair. He’d wonder why no one stuck, but he already knew the answer. He was difficult to be around and even more challenging to work with. It was no mystery, but still. “I hate this shit.”
He turned the corner, walking quickly in the direction of the panel, managerless, and then promptly slammed into a slightly shorter guy whose head was ducked, leading to his face being pushed directly between Yoo Joonghyuk’s pectorals and collarbone. It hurt, ever so slightly, and judging by the way the man looked up at him, rubbing his temple with his palm, it hurt him too.
“Who the hell are you?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked.
He had big, wide eyes, dark hair, and pale skin, like he had never seen the sun. He was some borderline-NEET who only crawled out of his hovel to work in IT, most likely. The guy was also soaking wet, his dress shirt clinging to his narrow shoulders and accenting every single bone across his diminutive frame. Was he malnourished? Probably. He didn’t seem to mean to be there, and had been walking quite fast, so he was clearly in a rush.
Except this guy also seemed to recognize him, and was definitely in the restricted area of the convention hall.
The man’s cheeks pinkened.
“Kim Dokja,” the guy answered quickly, glancing past Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulder. “Sorry, I’m just looking for the conference center! I came through the wrong entrance and didn’t mean to bump into you. Please excuse me.”
Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed his arm. “I’m reporting you to security.”
“No!” The guy raised his voice before looking up at Yoo Joonghyuk through his long eyelashes. He backed up a step, patting down his pockets with his free hand. Pulling out an ID card, he lowered his voice. He said, “As you can see, my name is Kim Dokja, and I am an employee at Mino Soft, which is hosting a conference in Grand Hall B. And, in lieu of your introduction, I am aware you are Yoo Joonghyuk, otherwise known as Supreme-King on DotShot. But I’m not here to harass you, truly, so please point me in the right direction and I can pretend like you aren’t a jerk next time I watch your stream.”
Kim Dokja raised an eyebrow, making bold eye contact with Yoo Joonghyuk. Yoo Joonghyuk narrowed his eyes in return but released Kim Dokja’s arm.
Yoo Joonghyuk looked at Kim Dokja’s expression and came to a quick, reckless conclusion about how the next four to eight hours would unfold. He needed a manager; Kim Dokja was here, and Yoo Joonghyuk was sure that Kim Dokja could get the job done, especially under duress. However, a few more questions were necessary before Yoo Joonghyuk proposed his idea.
Yoo Joonghyuk tilted his head a fraction. “What do you do for work?”
“Quality assurance,” Kim Dokja said without missing a beat.
“And what responsibilities does that entail?”
Kim Dokja processed his words and then said mechanically, “It is a systematic method used to ensure that a product or service meets specified requirements and standards to prevent defects and deviations,” before following it up with, “I specifically work with customer feedback. I also help with internal audits and reviews.”
“So you’re good with people?”
“... In a professional setting, yes?”
Yoo Joonghyuk scoffed. “Are you good or not?”
Kim Dokja crossed his arms. “Look, I have two minutes to get to the conference or my boss will make me into steak tartare. Is this a job interview, and if not, please point me in the right direction.”
“Do you like your job?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked as he was very done with Kim Dokja’s sass… but a backbone was a good quality in a manager. He had thoughts brewing up a possible game plan.
Kim Dokja’s jaw flapped in the air before he said, “No,” in a weak, scraggly voice.
“Great,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. Kim Dokja let out an abrupt, sharp laugh. He grabbed Kim Dokja’s arm again and yanked him along. “Follow me.”
“What the fuck?” Kim Dokja exclaimed. “I need to go. Man, just drop my—!”
“I am having an organizational crisis,” Yoo Joonghyuk said in a tone that was dead serious and borderline begging. He hoped the last part wasn’t too obvious.
He continued. “My manager just quit. I have all her binders filled with her information and contacts back in the dressing room, so you’ll have a few minutes to read over her notes for this convention. I’m due for a panel in a few minutes, and I’m also running late thanks to her, so you’re going to need to cover my ass with the organizers so I’m not violating the venue’s contract. Your pay starts at ₩40,000 per hour. Deal?”
“Uh,” Kim Dokja sounded nervous as he said, “Yes.”
Yoo Joonghyuk let out a fast breath, almost like a laugh. He muttered under his breath, “I can’t believe I’m hiring a fucking corporate dunce.”
Kim Dokja ripped his arm away and fell into step with Yoo Joonghyuk.
Listening in as Kim Dokja called, whom Yoo Joonghyuk assumed was his manager, he held back a scoff as Kim Dokja told a smooth lie about being delayed by an accident. Yoo Joonghyuk knew he was doing it to guarantee his job was still there in case the manager gig fell through, but he could’ve picked a better cover story.
“I was going to use you as a scapegoat for not showing up on time, but that was a flimsy reason at best and wouldn’t play over well, so now it’s your responsibility to come up with an excuse,” Yoo Joonghyuk told him, stepping into Yoo Joonghyuk’s reserved room and nodding towards the binders on the counter.
“Try to say that with more confidence…” Kim Dokja muttered, looking around. His eyes were so wide and sparkly, it was almost unnerving.
Chill, Yoo Joonghyuk thought. It’s just a dressing room—no need to fanboy, loser.
He watched as Kim Dokja went through the binders, paging through them and hissing through his teeth as he read pertinent information. Yoo Joonghyuk knew that he was looking at the panel information, so he took the liberty of leaving, heading straight for the panels, hoping he made the right decision in picking up Kim Dokja’s ratty, sweaty ass.
#
Yoo Joonghyuk slipped onto the stage before Park Kyungsoon, the bastard, could stop him and berate him. He sat in his assigned seat between Ko Yurim and Yong Jisoo, his teammates. Two other teams of three were there, but Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t familiar with them.
He answered minimal questions as Yon Jisoo and Ko Yurim were much better at public speaking, not because Yoo Joonghyuk stuttered or was nervous, but because he often wanted to drop-kick the people asking the questions. Almost everyone annoyed him regularly, so he chose to contain his annoyance by outsourcing questions to his team, who knew him well enough to cover for him and prevent bad publicity.
Five minutes into the panel, Kim Dokja arrived. He said softly in his in-ear, “All clear. You can unclench.”
Yoo Joonghyuk scoffed quietly, but his shoulders relaxed and his hands stopped fiddling with the water bottle he was given. He hoped “all clear” meant that there was no penalty fee, because Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t need any extra expenses now that he’d hired a new manager with a starting salary above what he deserved for no experience.
When the panel was over, Yoo Joonghyuk walked over to the corded-off main hall to autograph different items that the fans brought alongside taking photos with the players. He was stopped briefly by Park Kyungsoo, who scolded him for being late but praised his manager for having sense. That confirmed that Kim Dokja was able to get him to waive the late fee.
Carrying on, this was his least favorite part by far, because strangers touching him was almost unbearable. He didn’t mind the young teens and kids, though, because they often were just excited to see their favorite player and were innocent when it came to touches. One time, a woman tried to grab his ass, and Yoo Joonghyuk pretended to fall over his feet to push her to the ground. The incident was recorded and went viral.
He saw Kim Dokja standing aside, dressed in dry clothes. However, the shirt was definitely his shirt, and the black pants looked damp, still. At least he wasn’t dripping water everywhere, and his hair was styled… probably with Yoo Joonghyuk’s hair mousse. As well, his manager's badge had his name written in black Sharpie at the top, leading to Yoo Joonghyuk wondering what the hell Kim Dokja said to Park Kyungsoon to convince him to let him in.
Autographing item after item and taking picture after picture, the meet and greet finally dissolved, and everyone was allowed to leave. Yoo Joonghyuk walked over to Kim Dokja promptly.
“Unclench?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked, irritated.
Kim Dokja’s lips pursed as though resisting a laugh. “I assumed you were stressed, so yes, unclench.”
“Interesting wording,” Yoo Joonghyuk said drily. Kim Dokja was certainly… something.
“Mhm,” Kim Dokja hummed.
“So,” Yoo Joonghyuk said as he walked past Kim Dokja into one of the restricted access halls, “You managed to get them to waive the penalty. Impressive.”
“You ended up late, didn’t you?”
“I did,” Yoo Joonghyuk answered, the slightest bit ashamed. “I got caught behind a group of cosplayers huddled around a water fountain.”
Not bothering to hide his laugh this time, the Kim Dokja smiled and said, “Yes, well, I was able to bribe the venue’s event manager with chocolates and alcohol. By the way, you’ll be sending personalized gift baskets to the staff within the week. And by you, I mean me, but you’ll be signing the cards. And, before you get huffy, just remember the penalty for showing up late is much higher than the cost of gifts. I’m saving you money and buying goodwill.”
He has a nice smile. Wait, what? Bribes?
Yoo Joonghyuk gave Kim Dokja a long look. “You bribed them?”
“Yeah?” Kim Dokja raised an eyebrow.
Yoo Joonghyuk frowned internally. “I dislike bribing.”
“You also value your reputation, and while you aren’t exactly a ray of sunshine, you’re not a total asshole. So, I believe the phrase you’re looking for is ‘thank you.’”
Yoo Joonghyuk sighed. “You have an irritating personality.”
“Oh, going one for one, are we? Fair.” Kim Dokja had a light tone to his voice, but there was an undercurrent of anxiety—the tiniest shake.
Yoo Joonghyuk led Kim Dokja back to the room he’d been initially taken to, the one where the previous manager had left the binders. He gave Kim Dokja a once-over, frowning.
“You stole my shirt,” Yoo Joonghyuk said, miffed.
“Well, would you rather me show up smelling and looking like a wet dog?”
Yoo Joonghyuk scowled. “Give it back.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Kim Dokja looked scandalized. He asked in an affronted tone, “Are you asking me to strip?”
Yoo Joonghyuk blinked. His scowl deepened, and his ears reddened.
That wasn’t what I meant!
He grunted out, “Forget it. Keep it, for all I care. Actually, no — wash it and give it back.”
“Will do, and does that mean I’m…?”
“You already seem like a pest, but pests are persistent, so yes, you’re hired. Give me your contact information,” Yoo Joonghyuk said with a slight nod.
Kim Dokja raised his eyebrows in shock. “Seriously? Just like that? Holy shit.”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s lips curled into a smirk. “I’m not going to make this easy for you. Tell me now if you can’t handle this long-term. I don’t want to drag dead weight.”
Kim Dokja squared his shoulders, arms still crossed. “Dead weight? Hah,” he said with a huff, looking to the side before locking eyes with Yoo Joonghyuk, expression filled with conviction. “I’m done being a corporate slave. So, throw whatever you want at me. I guarantee I’ll find this more fun than my shit job at Mino Soft.”
Yoo Joonghyuk suddenly felt malicious.
“If you say so,” Yoo Joonghyuk shrugged. “Did I mention this job is six days a week, Monday through Saturday?”
“... No?”
Yoo Joonghyuk added, “Oh, also, the hours are from noon to 10 PM?”
“Are you trying to scare me? I’ve worked worse hours, and I’m a night owl,” Kim Dokja countered.
Yoo Joonghyuk tilted his head. “Plus, 24/7, you’ll be on-call for emergencies.”
“Life is cruel, and so is Yoo Joonghyuk. I get the point,” Kim Dokja said as he rubbed his temple. “This is no different from an office job. I won’t make promises, but anything you say now won’t change my decision. I’m in this, regardless, because my old boss sent me a message ten minutes ago telling me I’m fired. So, take responsibility and let me get to work. Speaking of, what are you doing after this?”
“Sleeping.”
Kim Dokja nodded. “Where did your old manager work?”
“Out of an office space I rent,” Yoo Joonghyuk answered. “I’ll give you the location. I’m pretty sure she headed there to clean it out after she quit on me.”
“Alright,” Kim Dokja nodded. “Hand me your phone. I’ll give you my info.”
After that, they went their separate ways. With one last look, Kim Dokja seemed tired as well, but determined. Yoo Joonghyuk could respect that and was banking on his persistence.
Going home to sleep early and long into Sunday, Yoo Joonghyuk crashed as soon as his head hit his pillow with post-shower, still-wet hair. He didn’t care because he was overexhausted, having run on only a few hours of sleep and too many cups of coffee, plus an energy shot.
He ended up waking up around 5:30 PM, a few hours later. Unable to fall back asleep, he headed to Kim Dokja’s office to see how he was settling in. Hopefully, he hadn’t run for the hills.
He knocked on the office door.
Kim Dokja called out, telling him to come in.
Yoo Joonghyuk opened the door and stepped inside. He leaned against the door after and looked down at Kim Dokja in his spinny chair.
“Daunted, yet?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked pessimistically.
Kim Dokja shook his head. “I mean, your last manager was awful with organization, so that took forever to fix, but now? I’m getting everything straightened out. Though I have a few questions.”
Yoo Joonghyuk glanced around the room. It was better organized now, from what he remembered about Soo Ahn.
“Shoot,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.
“How do you get to competitions?” Kim Dokja asked, twirling back and forth idly in the chair. “Did the manager arrange transportation, or do you handle it yourself?”
Yoo Joonghyuk answered quickly. “I’ve always handled it myself. I’ll be keeping it that way.”
“Alright,” Kim Dokja nodded. “How do you allocate funds for company use? I’m assuming I’ll need access to a card.”
The Yoo Joonghyuk pulled out his wallet. He handed Kim Dokja a black card. “This is for you. Abuse it, and I'll kill you. Only ₩400,000 should be allocated towards those gifts.”
Kim Dokja made a flat expression. “The penalty was ₩3,500,000. You are aware that giving so little would be an insult, right?”
He keeps acting like I’m stupid.
Yoo Joonghyuk sucked in his cheek. He said with a grumble, “And how much would you propose?”
“Half of that value, so around ₩1,750,000. I already gathered that there are six people who manage the venues, each with their own team, so if we make one basket per team leader and one basket for the team’s employees, that’s around ₩150,000 per basket. This could afford one bottle of high-quality alcohol, some nice chocolates, and assorted snacks without it being too little or too much. Although to truly drive the gesture home, buying a break-room platter of pastries for security and janitorial staff would also buy a lot of favor. That’s up to you, however.”
Yoo Joonghyuk sat down on the other chair tucked towards the back half of the office space. He leaned his elbows on his knees and said, “₩1,750,000 is fine.”
“I know. After all, you just handed me a black card.”
Again with the sass.
Furrowing his brow, Yoo Joonghyuk asked, “I’m at a disadvantage when it comes to you. How much do you know about me?”
Kim Dokja’s cheeks turned red. “Um…”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s interest was piqued. “How big a fan are you?”
“I watch your streams,” Kim Dokja admitted, scratching the back of his head unconsciously. “And I’m just, you know… generally aware…”
He looks uncomfortable. I know I’m not what he expected.
Yoo Joonghyuk gave him a cynical grin, “Is the real thing disappointing?”
Kim Dokja laughed. “Well, you’re rude, but you’re responsive, so it's better than my old boss.”
Cute laugh.
Pause—not going to think about that.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s smile became genuine for a split second before he schooled his expression to his default neutral. It felt nice when Kim Dokja complimented him, regretfully.
“Yeah?” Yoo Joonghyuk chuckled under his breath. “Well, that’s a first.”
Kim Dokja rolled his eyes. “Let me guess: you’ve never worked a day of retail in your life.”
“Well—”
“That was a rhetorical question. I already know your career history.”
Yoo Joonghyuk frowned. “You really are irritating.”
“Mhm,” Kim Dokja hummed. He tilted his head and wiggled the pen he held between his fingers back and forth like a wagging finger. “Now, when am I signing a contract? I want this on paper.”
“Check the email,” Yoo Joonghyuk said, nodding toward the computer. In his email was an e-document with all of the necessary details to hire Kim Dokja. He also forwarded the tax and banking documents to himself to fill out later from home.
Kim Dokja sighed.
“This has been easier than I thought, so far,” Kim Dokja mused. “I think the issue is… you’re being oddly nice.”
Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t know why he was being oddly nice, either, so he came up with an approximate, believable answer. He was convincing both himself and Kim Dokja. Also, it did make sense practically.
“That’s because I’m using you,” Yoo Joonghyuk said easily.
Kim Dokja’s eyes widened.
Yoo Joonghyuk continued, “I need someone to take this position, and after my last manager quit, I know for certain she will attempt to ruin my image and make it difficult for me to hire. So, you’re here to help me in the meantime, and if you prove inadequate, you’ll be terminated. Consider this the beginning of your 90-day probation.”
Kim Dokja’s eyebrow twitched as he made a dampened scowl. “I see. A 90-day probation is… standard.”
Yoo Joonghyuk nodded. “Yeah. So, you done?”
“Just about,” Kim Dokja said. He logged out of the computer and stood. “Anything else you want to tell me, sir?”
Sir? Eugh.
Kim Dokja’s lips curled up into a sly smile. Then, the Yoo Joonghyuk shook his head and walked out with an over-the-shoulder wave.
“Don’t get hit by a car on the way home,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “I’ll send you my address later. I need to acquaint you with my setup on Monday.”
“Wow, already taking me home? I thought you’d be bold, asking me to strip, but this is—!”
Yoo Joonghyuk sent him a death glare over his shoulder. “Finish that sentence, and you die.”
Kim Dokja rolled his eyes. “You know I’m older than you, right?”
“Yeah? And?”
“Wow,” Kim Dokja laughed.
Yoo Joonghyuk left, leaving Kim Dokja behind. Hopefully, he’d be able to get some more sleep.