SHINee and Co. is copyrighted by SM Entertainment.
Manager Hyung
He had been newly twenty-seven, newly dumped, and altogether too bitter when the company had told him he was going to manage a new talent.
Five boys, they told him, that had been trained to be the new idols of Korea. His job was to live with them, as the only adult. He was to make sure they were on time to all their meetings, set up their school schedules, make sure that make up was done and ready, and essentially be the boys' personal maid and butler.
He had snorted, too hungover to care, when they threatened him as they always did. "No mistakes. You're now manager to what could be our biggest talent."
They handed him a folio filled with information on the boys. He took one look at the prospective name and snorted.
"SHINee? Oh that's going to be gigantic," he muttered, throwing the folio aside as he reached for the bottle of whiskey on the countertop.
He had managed to sober up by the time he met the boys for the first time.
They were so young and so pristine, all dressed in neat uniforms. The boy sitting in the middle caught sight of him first and smiled shyly at him.
"Hello, are you our new manager?"
He nodded. "Yes, and you are?" he left off, cursing as he tried to remember the names in the folio.
The boy took pity on him.
"Kim Jonghyun. I'm eighteen," he introduced with a smile.
The others took cue from him and also faced him with a smile.
The skinny boy with dark eyebrows smiled, introducing himself as "Ki Kibum, but my new name is Key."
The boy with the large warm smile nodded next. "Lee Jinki, but now Onew."
The tallest boy only said "Minho."
And the last was a young boy who barely looked out of middle school.
"Lee Taemin."
He raised his eyebrows.
"How old are you?"
Taemin blushed.
"I will be fourteen in the summer."
He didn't answer to that. Fourteen, what the hell was the company thinking? Were they that obsessed that they were now stealing children from their mother's bosom? Shaking his head, he walked over to the window.
"Ah, manager-hyung? May I ask your name?"
It was Jinki—no, Onew. He sighed and faced them again.
"My name is unimportant."
The boys stared at him confused.
"All that matters is you five. Look around at each other. This is now your family. All ties you had before this do not matter anymore. You will live, eat, sleep, breathe with these people."
"But what should we call you?"
It was Key this time.
"Manager-hyung."
Today was the day of their first live show.
He hadn't slept. He had tried drinking, but then changed his mind. It wouldn't do to be hungover, especially with management glaring down his back. This was the big test, whether the boys could make it live.
He watched quietly as the make-up artists patted more powder onto Key's nose, trying to hide the blemishes. He almost wanted to snort and ask them what they'd been expecting. A seventeen year old boy with perfect skin?
On the other side, hairdressers were fighting over Minho, trying to make his forehead look larger. At the back, one of the costumers was busy trying to sew a new hem into Taemin's pants. The boy kept growing non-stop.
Rolling his eyes, he walked over to where Jonghyun was rehearsing. He listened as the boy ran through warm-up scales, his voice effortlessly gliding up and down. Onew was sitting next to him, and when Jonghyun would take a breath, Onew would take over, sending his own voice up and down.
They were nervous. He knew it. He could feel the tension in all of them. It was there in Jonghyun's hands that wouldn't stop shaking. It was in the brittleness of Onew's smile, the sharpness of Key's temper, the aloof stare on Minho's face, and blatantly obvious in Taemin's eyes.
He didn't know what tempted him, but he had already ordered all the hairdressers, make-up artists, and costumers out of the room. It was empty but for him and the boys. They were sitting together on the couch, Jonghyun as the brave center, Minho and Onew on the outsides, protecting the younger boys. He looked at them, all the make-up and costumes, all the pressure in their muscles, the shine in their eyes missing, and he knew he had to say something.
"I know you're scared. I know that you'd rather be anywhere but here," he began unsurely, licking his suddenly dry lips. "I'm scared too. I know you're amazing. I've seen it every day for the last six months."
He broke away and clutched his hair, trying to figure out his own tumbling emotions.
"It doesn't matter what everyone is saying," he began again, staring at them earnestly. "I want to you to forget everything. Forget that the company is watching. Forget about the critics. Forget that everyone is going to be judging you. I want you to act like it's a rehearsal. That it's just another day in the studio. I want you to sing like you sing when you're in the car, with what's here," he said, tapping his chest. "Forget everything else. Okay?"
They barely had the chance to nod before one of the set directors came storming in, demanding the boys to get up and get ready, that it was almost time.
He watched quietly as they let the women fuss over them one last time as they were shooed out the door. Just before it closed, he saw them turn back and look at him.
He tried to smile.
He wanted to throw up.
Today was the day of the SM Entertainment concert, SMTown Live. The boys had two songs and a dance performance. The company had been so pleased with their debut stars. The boys were already so well known, winning hearts and fans everywhere.
He was so worried. Taemin just had another growth spurt and Minho had a terrible breakout of blemishes.
He walked into the dressing room. Jonghyun and Key were wearing a path in the ground as they paced back and forth. Onew sat on the couch, singing as Taemin and Minho ran through the dance routine in the front of the mirror.
"Are you ready?"
It was a stupid question, but he felt even more foolish when met by five blank stares. He sighed and sat down in one of the chairs, facing the boys.
"You did great at Music Bank."
"Music bank is in a studio," Key countered mulishly.
"You're singing Real and Love Should Go On. I know you know these songs backwards and forwards. I even remembering Jonghyun gargling his part of Real once," he pointed out, making said boy blush.
It didn't seem to help much though as they still looked as tense as when he had entered. He sighed and threw his head back.
"Just try to smile, okay? If all else fails, smile at the girls in the crowd. As long as they're screaming, you'll be fine. Just don't wink at any of them. I don't think we could get emergency care to the fainters in time."
He knew it wasn't much, but the barely muffled chuckled from Onew seemed to lighten the room ten-fold.
He didn't know when it had become less and less of a job.
"You didn't buy them food?" He almost wanted to rip the stagehand's throat out. "They've been here for hours and you didn't think to get them something to eat?"
The boy in front of him looked startled. Maybe he was too used to the older managers who just stood at the back of a room and smoked their cigarettes, those who couldn't care less about their clients.
He pushed the stagehand out of his way and pulled out his cell, jabbing keys. He waited for someone to pick and then immediately ordered enough food for an army.
When it came, he forced that same stagehand from before to carry all of it into the dressing room before paying for it.
The boys looked up at him in surprise as he slammed the door shut behind the cowering man.
"Manager-hyung, are you alright?"
It was Jonghyun.
He sighed, taking in a deep breath before facing the boys. Jonghyun was balanced on the couch's armrest, while Onew, Taemin, and Minho were sprawled out on it. Key was sitting on the ground, using Onew's legs as a backrest.
"Yes, yes. I'm fine. Why don't you guys start?" he offered with a wan smile.
They looked at each other before moving. Key reached for the plates and napkins, always the responsible one, handing them out. Onew reached for the chicken, while Taemin and Minho started pouring drinks for everyone. Jonghyun came over and sat down next to him quietly.
"Thank you," the boy whispered under the din of the others. "I knew you wouldn't forget us."
The boy smiled warmly at him before jumping into the fray, yelling that he wanted less rice and more chicken.
His head was aching, but it wasn't enough for him to not give the woman before him an incredulous look.
"Those aren't pants," he finally declared with a glare.
The woman rolled her eyes. She had been hired as the new costumer for the new video shoot, Juliette.
"I think I'm in charge of costumes, Manager," she replied, snidely.
He glared.
"Well, frankly, I don't want my boys to faint from lack of blood flow," he bit back. "You women may think it's cute to put boys in pants made for girls, but they need room to move and dance in. Honestly, you old perverts!"
"These are boys' pants!" she screeched back.
He snorted as he walked away.
He entered the dressing room to see a hairdresser messing with Key's hair. He nearly cringed as he took in the tawny-gold shade. He hadn't been at the salon when they had changed his hair, but now he was regretting not telling his boss to reschedule their meeting. Had he been there, maybe he could've saved the boy's hair. Key was a good sport about it, smiling and running his hands through it without reservation.
Frankly, it was only one of the tragedies the design team had inflicted on the boys. Key's bottle blonde hair, Jonghyun's lack of hair (he still couldn't stop cringing of how short it was), the brightly colored tie-dye shirts.
Hell, he was just glad that Onew, Taemin, and Minho looked somewhat recognizable. Well, Minho a little less since he had grown his hair out. But he thought it worked for the tall boy, even if the costumers didn't agree. He had managed to win that argument.
Sighing, he sat down next to Taemin. The boy smiled at him and he couldn't help but notice how gangly the boy looked.
"Taemin," he started as he threw his head back, massaging his temples.
"Yes, hyung?"
"Remind me as soon as this shoot is over that we need to eat."
"Okay hyung. Can we have pizza?" he asked shyly.
He opened one eye to look at the boy again.
"Sure. Just promise me you'll eat as much as Jonghyun and Minho combined," he declared. If he was lucky, the boys would be starving and maybe, just maybe, they'd have an eating contest, which he could then charge to that bossy costumer. He smirked. That'd make his day, almost as much as if Taemin would gain some weight.
Maybe he should also order ice cream. Taemin liked chocolate, right?
He couldn't help himself.
"Oh my god."
"Is it that bad, hyung?"
He smacked himself out of the shock induced stupor at the boy's voice. Jonghyun was sitting on the stool perfectly straight with his lips pressed completely flat.
"I…" he started. He took in a deep breath, studying the boy's face. The damn design team had struck again. This time, Jonghyun was the victim. His hair, once upon a time a wonderful healthy black, was a gradient of brown at the crown of his head to bleached blonde bangs surrounding his face. It was ridiculous.
But one look at the nerves on the boy's face made him smile reassuringly.
"You look like Goku," he teased with a grin.
The boy smiled, relaxing.
He patted him on the shoulder before turning around to look at the rest of the boys.
He almost wished he didn't. The boys were in thick layers of black shirt, vests, jackets, and scarves along with vinyl pants and heavy combat boots. He clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly for a minute.
Key looked at him carefully.
"Are you going to go yell at Costumer-noona?"
He managed to unlock his jaw to smile wanly at the boy.
"Of course not. I'm just going ask her if she wants you to collapse from heat exhaustion," he replied, patting the boy on the head.
"Why don't you guys order something to eat, my treat?" he offered as he reached the door.
"But the noonas said…" Taemin started shyly. He waved his hand.
"Don't worry about them. Minho, make sure he eats as much as you," he ordered before leaving. He was going to give those damn women a kick up the ass today for sure.
"We'll save you some chicken, hyung!"
He turned and waved at Onew.
Those fools wouldn't know what hit them.
He spat out his water, coughing.
His boss sat in front of him, frowning as he mopped the water off of his head with a handkerchief.
"Honestly, you'd think that you were a newbie on the job, with that reaction," the older man scolded.
"Forgive me," he replied. "It's just that I don't think this is such a good idea," he began uneasily.
"Why not? The show was hugely popular with the girls of SNSD. They enjoyed it and look at how their popularity bloomed."
He listened to the man drone on while clenching his hands tightly underneath the table.
"Forgive me sir, but I don't think five young boys should be put into such a delicate situation. Especially without any guidance."
"Nonsense," the older man snorted. "The girls were fine. After all, they're the same age as Onew."
He tried not to scream.
"Yes sir. But all of them were Onew's age. Here, Onew is alone as the eldest and he is also an only child. He has never had any experience with small children," he tried to reason again.
"They'll be fine. Shooting starts in a week."
He stood and bowed before leaving the room. As he entered an empty hallway, he roared and punched the solid wall, too filled with rage. Oh yes, absolutely brilliant. Let's stick a bunch of boys with no real life experience and have them raise a toddler. He wanted to hit the producers of the show.
Fixing his jacket, he turned and started down the hall.
Well, if that's how the company wanted to play the game. He grabbed out his cell and began to scroll through his contacts. There were quite a few directors and script writers who had been in a pinch when he had helped them out. He was going to call in all the favors he had.
After all, if he couldn't help them, then at least he was going to find someone who could.
He thought he had seen it all.
In the two years he had been with the boys, he thought that there wasn't anything else that the design team or the writers could throw at him that would make him cringe.
He was wrong.
Key was bald.
Well, half-bald if one had to be technical. But it was bad enough. The boy's head been shaved from front to half back on one side, resembling a brain surgery patient.
Key grinned at him.
"Don't worry about, manager-hyung," he commented as he sat down next to him. "I like it. It's very un-SM, don't you think?"
He sighed, rubbing his temples.
"At least they gave you decent pants this time," he commented, looking at the loose fit of the jeans. "Don't know what these metal shin guards are supposed to be, though." He reached over and knocked on Minho's leg. The boy chuckled at him, stretching out so that he could see how the shin guard tied around his calf completely.
"You haven't seen the make-up yet."
They all looked up at the young woman who entered the room with a smile.
"Hi Jihee-noona," the boys greeted.
Park Jihee had been his secret weapon on the Hello Baby sets. A good friend of his, she immediately applied for a styling role on the show. Her presence and experience with children had helped him sleep at night during the shooting of the show when he wasn't allowed to be present. To her misfortune, though, the company liked her enough to hire her full time as a stylist for the boys.
He groaned at the thought of make-up.
"Please no," he begged with his face behind his hands. He was too old for this crap. "At least make sure it's all washable. I don't want any of it to stick to their faces," he demanded as she left to do so.
He leaned back and watched as the boys talked raucously as they waited. Key and Taemin were teasing Jonghyun over his strange backless shirt (Another great save by Jihee. The others had wanted him to be shirtless.) while Onew and Minho took bets on who would mess up first at the choreography.
"Loser buys ice cream," Minho offered.
"Hell no," he cut in, making the boys stare at him. "I buy ice cream."
"You mean, you make the noona that irritates you the most buy it," Onew corrected.
He shrugged. It was a tradition on these sets and a good way for him to get payback without hitting someone.
"Bet something else. Like loser has to fix Taemin's math homework for the next two weeks."
He grinned at the indignant shout from the youngest among the laughter from the other boys.
He swallowed heavily as he read through the papers.
Jonghyun was sitting next to him, pale and wan with bruised red eyes. The others sat around the room, all with silent worried faces.
He didn't understand. It was just puppy-love between two children, but the backlash was so cruel. Page after page filled with hateful angry slurs. The media was eating it up, tearing apart the boys and the company. He had been called in by the management. Upset was an understatement for their reaction. They had ranted and raged at him for hours and when he had gotten back, he had found the boys sitting on the couch.
Jonghyun had been shaking, unable to look at him while Minho and Onew stared straight ahead. Taemin looked lost and Key was enraged. He took one step into the room and immediately grabbed Jonghyun first. The boy cried heavily, sobs ripping out of his body as if each comment had reached in and torn out a piece of his soul. His crying had set of the others and they all just sat there, shaking in pain. Afterwards, they hadn't felt the need to move.
"Will they fire you, hyung?" Minho asked, breaking the silence.
It wasn't a strange assumption. The company could easily blame him for not being attentive enough, that he had let some pretty face come in and sway their best singer.
"They won't," Key declared angrily. "Not if they want to keep us."
He sighed, giving Key a wan smile.
"You wouldn't be able to stop them. After all, you signed their contract too."
"I'll break up with her," Jonghyun whispered hoarsely. "If that's what it takes to keep you, hyung."
It was the first thing he had said since the news. He smiled, brushing the boy's hair out of his face.
"No thanks. I'd rather let them tar and feather me than letting you give up another part of being a normal kid."
"But…"
He grabbed Jonghyun's face and made the boy look at him.
"You didn't do anything wrong. Okay?"
The boy nodded. He smiled and faced the others.
"We're going to have to let this blow over. They're just shocked and not processing the absolutely absurdity coming out of their mouths. Jonghyun, you'll have to stay a little back during interviews to keep the attention off of yourself," he began, sketching out a game plan for the boys. "Minho, Taemin. You two are going to have to lose that coyness and start talking. With you two weighing into the interviews, especially Taemin because we know the girls love him, we should be able to take the focus off of Jonghyun until they calm down."
The boys nodded, Minho reaching over to rub Jonghyun's back. The boy smiled, wiping his tears as they settled comfortably against each other.
"So where are you taking her?" Taemin asked finally.
"Huh?"
"On your date. Where are you taking her?"
They all stared at Taemin curiously. The boy blushed.
"I made a bet with Jihee-noona that you'd go somewhere exotic while she said you'd go somewhere normal and casual. If I win, she'll have to convince the hairdresser noona to cut my hair."
They laughed at the prospective pout on the boy's face.
"What's exotic enough for you, Taemin?" Jonghyun asked.
"The beach," the boy promptly returned. "And make sure you dance underneath the stars too."
He laughed as the boys began to help Jonghyun plan the date.
"Don't get her flowers or chocolate," he finally advised. "Girls like personal gifts."
The boys turned on him then and started dissecting his life, bringing up his not-so-casual friendship with Jihee. He let them poke and prod him, teasing him and asking questions. He answered with a smirk and let them stew over incomplete and vague thoughts. They yelled about unfairness and he just shook his head.
"How's this?" he offered, standing up. "I'll ask Jihee out on a date after your first headlining concert, okay?"
He almost felt fear at the prospective glances the boys shared.
He was newly thirty, in a foreign country, and sobbing like a baby. The boys were on stage, singing their last song, One. They were running around and laughing, spraying water at each other, throwing rubber balls into the crowd, and just bursting at the seams with energy.
It was the zenith of all the struggles, all the bad hair, all the appearances, all the ridiculous costumes, the hours of rehearsal. He laughed as Minho dumped an entire bottle down Jonghyun's back and Taemin ran around with the dinosaur cap on his head.
They were here. They had done it.
He screamed and cheered as loudly as he could during the encore, watching the boys take their final bows. He didn't think it was possible to be so happy, but watching them smile and hold onto each other made every nightmare from last three years disappear.
When they finally made it backstage, he opened his arms and let them tackle him in a huge hug of headpieces, glitter, microphones, towels, sweat, and five exuberant boys. They swayed in place for a minute, soaking up the moment as they laughed and cried.
Finally, Minho pulled out of the huge and gave him a sneaky smirk.
"So, hyung, does this mean you'll ask Jihee-noona now?"
He laughed. He should've known they wouldn't have forgotten such a promise. He looked at their faces, filled with joy and light. From Onew's crinkled eyes to Jonghyun's puppy wide smile to Key's grin to Minho's smirk to Taemin's boyish laugh.
"You know what, I will!" he declared with a smile from ear to ear.
-Fin-
(A/N): Holy shit. This was supposed to be a short piece from a third person view on the guys. I'm not really sure how it became so gigantic. I guess I wanted to write about the guys and their relationships but from an outside point of view. I know a lot of other authors have taken the evil manager route, but I figured this guy is probably just as much of a slave to the company as they are, so I tried to make him like an awkward man who matures into this great father-figure for the boys.
Let me know what you think!