“I’d go ttukbaegi on them.”

Unlike earlier, Jin-ah spoke in a serious tone. Hye-jung was caught speechless in that moment. She glanced at the producer, unsure of whether to cut the conversation off. The producer seemed equally hesitant and didn’t move to stop the conversation.

Meanwhile, Hyuk’s brows furrowed as he hesitated. Hye-jung got the feeling that he may cut it off soon. In the end, she decided to leave the decision to him and continued with her questions.

“Wow, the chat is going wild! Only a minute ago, you were saying the President is always teasing you. But now we see how much you care.”

“Uh… well…” Jin-ah fidgeted in her seat, sneaking glances at Hyuk outside the studio. Her bashful reaction demeanor incited hotter reactions from their viewers. 

A laugh forced its way through Hye-jung’s lips. How could she go from saying she’d smash a ttukbaegi to acting so cute?

Still, seeing her being genuine and all innocent drew a pleasant smile to her face. Jin-ah felt like a real newbie. In an industry full of cunning newcomers, it had been a long time since someone as adorable as Jin-ah appeared.

“Sometimes, no— actually, quite often, no— very often, he really gets on my nerves. But still, our President is the best.”

“Wow! But would he be happy hearing that compliment that’s not really a compliment? Haha! If you’re going to praise him, go all in!”

“The president… it’s like he gets all tongue-tied whenever he tries to compliment me.”

“Pfft! Don’t you mean it’s like pulling teeth? How can someone’s tongue get all tied like that?”

“Anyway.”

“No, not anyway! Haha! Anyway, what next? Come on, give him some real praise.”

“Sometimes, he purposely piles on tons of pressure. Even when he teases me, I can tell he genuinely believes in me and is thinking that I’m doing a good job. And every once in a while, he’ll give me real compliments that he means from the bottom of his heart.”

“Wow! That sounds pretty good.”

“I mean, when he’s just messing around, I don’t feel any pressure. But when he seriously compliments me, it feels so overwhelming I feel like I’m going to throw up. I think have to do well this time, no matter what. If I don’t, I won’t be able to face him again.”

The atmosphere turned warm and pleasant. Jin-ah’s face turned bright red as she turned her head away from the direction where Hyuk was standing.

Hye-jung found Jin-ah absolutely adorable, and the viewers’ reactions exploded.

– look how cute she is omfg. Is the president there too?

– Why is she so cute? Her name is Jin-ah Choi right?

– so are we just gonna forget about the ttukbaegi smashing thing? If she’s this cute, she can go all out no problem! lolol

Hye-jung decided there was no need to cut it off and continued with a sly smile.

“You care about your boss so much. I guess you were serious about going ttukbaegi on anyone if they messed with him.”

“Well, none of our senior colleagues would actually do that. But if it did happen, I’d rather they criticize me instead.” Jin-ah indirectly expressed her sincerity.

Hyuk ran a hand down his face, clearly exasperated.

The producer chuckled and asked, “No need to cut this, right?”

“It’s… practically live, anyway.”

There was no point in cutting the scene. Though it wouldn’t be broadcast on radio, clips and memes from this show would spread soon enough.

Besides, the audience’s reaction was positive. Sure, some people might view it negatively, but it was already spilled water.

Next time, I would have to be more careful about avoiding these kinds of slip-ups. How nice it would have been if she could’ve stuck to her cute image without mentioning the ttukbaegi.

***

Inside the Starex minivan on the way back from the radio show, an uncomfortable silence hung in the air.

“Jin-ah Choi.”

“Kyaaah!”

“Jin-ah.”

“Ahhh!”

“…”

“…”

It was no wonder why the silence was so thick. After the radio show ended, Jin-ah couldn’t even make eye contact with him. 

Her head hung low, acting as if she was remembering some embarrassing drunken moment. It was a response I could empathize with deeply, but I still had to say what needed to be said.

“Hey!”

“Kyaaah!”

“You can’t just say stuff like that! Ttukbaegi? To a senior?”

“Oh… that.”

I had planned to scold her more, but her reaction felt as if she was suddenly relieved. She was feeling at ease? Now? While I was still lecturing her? When I glanced at her, she whistled and pretended to look elsewhere. It was like a scene from an old 90s movie.

“What is it.”

“N-Nothing! Of course I know. I shouldn’t have said I would go ttukbaegi. I should’ve said I would smash their head instead.”

Smashing a senior colleague’s head was considered okay? She really was missing the point. Was she playing dumb, or did she really not understand? With most people, it would’ve definitely been the former, but with her, I had a reasonable suspicion it might be the latter.

“That’s not the issue! Whether it’s going ttukbaegi or head smashing, you can’t act like you’re going to go against a senior colleague!”

“…”

Jin-ah pouted with a dissatisfied expression. If she didn’t want to hear me nagging, she shouldn’t have made the mistake in the first place.

“You get it or not?”

“I got it already.”

“When you’re at music shows, even if the senior idols nitpick or criticize, endure it. I’ll be with you most of the time, but there will be times when I’m not.”

“I got it! Geez, you’re nagging me so much.”

 “This is so—!” Hyuk sighed sharply in exasperation.

We recorded a few more radio shows for Jin-ah. She managed to introduce herself and showcase her sense for variety shows without any major mishaps after the first recording.

Although it didn’t make huge waves online, people in the entertainment industry were beginning to recognize her as a ‘rookie with good variety skills.’

Of course, the ttukbaegi meme had already spread all over social media and online communities.

Shit.

***
6 PM. Jin-ah’s YouTube channel released a teaser video.

[Jin-ah Choi? Our World MV Teaser1]

If she was a more successful idol, we would roll out a concept trailer, photo teasers, and video teasers in succession. But since Jin-ah hasn’t reached that level yet, we just decided to release two polished MV teasers.

This was the first teaser.

When the video began, the first thing that appeared was an intricately designed set. The camera zoomed in on the feet of someone walking alone through the set. The camera slowly panned upward and settled on Jin-ah’s face, radiating both charm and poise. Her voice, unaccompanied by any other instruments, flowed gently into the scene.

『We keep singing and dancing. Like it’s all we have left. Like it’s everything to us.』

Her husky voice rose cleanly into a high note, a pure display of vocal skill. Though the teaser was only ten seconds long, the striking visuals and overall impact were undeniably the work of Director Jong-woo Kim.

It was a flawless first teaser.

I was excited for the time everything came out. The second teaser, the full music video, the behind-the-scenes videos, the music show performances, and live videos. How would the public react when it was all out there?

“There’s no way people will miss out on this unless they’re living under a rock.”

There was a saying that you couldn’t rise to the top without good promotion, no matter how talented you were. However, if you had something truly unique, the industry wouldn’t leave you alone. Even if you wanted to stay out of the spotlight, they would drag you into it.

That was what I expected for Jin-ah.

“Asia’s Star.”

It was time for Jin-ah Choi to shine as the next true star.

***

Jin-ah’s second teaser had released.

Tomorrow, the song and MV would drop simultaneously. After a week of music show performances, we would release the BTS footage, then continue alternating between music shows and live streams on her YouTube channel.

It was about to be a hectic time, but today, I planned to take a complete break and rest at home. If it weren’t for Yumi’s call, that was.

Bzzz- Bzzz-

I answered the phone without moving from my lazy position on the bed.

“Hey, Yumi.”

-Sorry to bother you, President Kang. You must have been resting.

Knowing that I was taking a break, Yumi’s voice sounded cautious despite never taking a break herself as she worked on several remixes every day.

Recently, a famous EDM artist had shared Yumi’s ‘I Don’t Love Anything’ on SoundCloud, and her follower count shot up. Her YouTube and SoundCloud channels were growing at the same time.

She wasn’t creating new compositions, but her remixing skills were improving rapidly. I had no worries about her progress.

“No, it’s okay. What’s up?”

-I wrote a new song. Can I upload it?

I sat up in bed.

“Can you send it to me through email?”

I wasn’t worried about the quality. I would register the copyright first, but whether we made a music video would depend on the song.

The problem was that I didn’t have any money left at the moment. Even if Hee-yeon could record the song right away, our production schedule was already backed up. I had spent too much money on Jin-ah.

While I might be able to afford to record Hee-yeon’s song, there was no way we could produce a music video right now.

-Okay, I’ll send it.

I got out of bed and gulped down some water from my bottle. My artists’ talents were starting to feel overbearing. I was starting to have trouble keeping up.

I could have made money from this at any point, but I had been focusing on their growth instead. I avoided ads, photo shoots, and even interviews. I limited their appearances to a minimum. Now, the consequences of my decision were catching up with me.

“Things will pick up as the company grows. We’re still in the early stages.”

I turned on my computer and downloaded the song from my email. The track had already been mixed and mastered. It seemed she hadn’t needed to go to the studio this time.

Maybe she learned how to get the sound she wanted with home recording equipment, or maybe this wasn’t a song she considered particularly important.

“It feels wrong, but I feel a bit relieved.”

It seemed like I wouldn’t need to produce a music video for this one. I turned up the speaker volume with a sense of ease.

Boom, clap! Boom, clap! The beat started simple, neither too fast nor too slow. Or was it fast? My bias about EDM being fast made it seem slower than it was. Then came the bass line.

“She made this with a master keyboard?”

She created this kind of feel not with a live performance, but with just a master keyboard? I pushed aside my rising curiosity and turned up the volume more, just enough that the neighbors would hear it. Just four minutes would be fine.

After about 20 seconds, an unfamiliar virtual instrument joined in. The instrument sung a dynamic melody, note by note. It might have been a synthesizer.

“Is this really EDM?”

Calling it hip-hop suited it better. There was a funk-like groove to it, and I could picture Snoop Dogg rapping over this track. I felt this song could do well. Just as the thought crossed my mind, the music cut out briefly. Then, ‘that’ sound came in.

“Wobble bass!? So it is dubstep!”

True dubstep featured two beats and a spacious soundscape. However, after Skrillex, many people refused to consider it dubstep without the signature wobbling bass sound. It led to endless debates about what qualified as dubstep, especially overseas.

In Korea, though, people barely paid attention to the genre, except to borrow a few elements from EDM.

“Smart. Or maybe it’s just instinct?” A soft smile spread across my face.

Yumi had used the wobble bass perfectly. It was just enough to give the right vibe without overdoing it. It wasn’t the main focus of the song, just another instrument in the mix. It was easy to listen to instead and not overwhelming at all. If I were to borrow a phrase from foreign listeners, I would call it ‘chill.’

“Haha.”

Her talent never ceased to amaze me. How could she create music that satisfied both casual listeners and hardcore fans?

“This is going to be a hit.”

My body slowly crept closer to the monitor, closer to the music coming from the speakers. For some reason, I felt like the music became more vivid the closer I got.

Judging from the reaction on YouTube and SoundCloud, even if Yumi had used the wobble bass more aggressively and made a full-blown club track, no one would’ve complained. Her skills were already well-established.

“Thankfully, we won’t need to make a music video. Let’s just make a cover.”

My phone rang again.

“Hey, Yumi.”

-How was it? Did you listen to it?

“Yeah, it’s amazing. Let’s just design a cover and release it quickly.”

-Oh, I know what you mean. Yes, I think that would be best.

It wasn’t that the song wasn’t good enough for a music video. It was just that tracks like this felt more fitting with just a cover art release. EDM artists historically didn’t have the money to make them, and eventually, it became the norm. 

It reminded me of when Korean hip-hop first became mainstream. Back then, people shared their music on a couple of online forums, listening and giving feedback.

Every genre and market has its own style. For the people who enjoyed this type of music, seeing it released with just a cover would feel more familiar and comfortable.

“Is the title ‘About Us’?”

-Yes. And when I say ‘Us,’ that includes you, too. When I was making it, I imagined all of us gathered around the living room at Christmas, talking and laughing.

“Haha.”

The title didn’t really matter much. That was because there weren’t any lyrics. I registered the song for copyright, and while sharing ideas with Yumi, we commissioned the album cover design.

Although it may not have had the shock factor and freshness of ‘I Don’t Love Anything,’ this song would definitely appeal more to the general public.

Oh, but only overseas.

I didn’t expect it to get even the slightest bit of attention here in Korea.

—

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