“Jung-ho! Hey! It’s time for the concert!”
“Hm? Oh, right.”
Only after the shout did Jung-ho Yoon finally pull out his earphones.
His manager let out a pointed sigh.
“I keep telling you not to listen so loud. Your ears and vocal cords are your livelihood.”
“Right, sorry.” Jung-ho smiled sheepishly, wound the earphone cord around his phone, and stuffed it into his pocket.
His manager cleared his throat quietly.
“I’m saying this because I worry, you know.”
“I know. I’ve got this bad habit of cranking the volume whenever I find a good song. Can’t seem to break it.”
“What were you listening to?”
“That song that’s at number seven on the chart right now. ‘Mistake.'”
“Oh!” His manager nodded enthusiastically, then seemed to remember something and tilted his head in thought.
“I know it’s a good song, but… you don’t like EDM. And you don’t like idol music either.”
Jung-ho Yoon was a man who sat at the top of Korea’s R&B scene.
His taste in music was a solid mix of blues, jazz, and rock. They were genres treated as niche in Korea, which meant his playlists were inevitably dominated by international artists. Pop he could tolerate, maybe, but idol music and EDM were well outside his orbit.
Jung-ho curled one corner of his mouth upward in response to his manager.
“I don’t know. Just stumbled across it and liked what I heard.”
“..Well, fair enough. It is a good song.”
Jung-ho, his manager, and over a dozen staff members departed for the concert venue in a convoy of cars.
Just as they pulled out of the parking garage, his manager spoke up after a thought hit him.
“Oh, by the way! Jung-ho, did you know? You know Yumi Cho, the one who made ‘Mistake’? She’s putting together a full-length album right now, and she’s looking for artists to feature. It’s turned into a whole thing.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Singers and rappers are falling over themselves posting videos on social media. It’s insane.”
Jung-ho’s interest sharpened at his words. Not for any complicated reason. He was just curious what Yumi’s new music sounded like.
Upon searching her name, he was met with a flood of information. Typically, when one thing was trending, that one topic filled the results page. Not with Yumi.
There were talks about her variety show, the OST, her acoustic track, and this album – all at the same time.
“She’s gone viral, huh.”
“Yeah, no kidding! The music industry’s losing its mind. SBC’s all over it, too, you know? Plus, the other variety shows are fighting to book Blue Sherbet.”
“I’ve been completely out of the loop on what’s been going on lately.”
“You can afford to be. You’re basically untouchable, so you don’t need to worry about any of that. Just creating whatever music you feel like will keep the fans loving you.”
“And I’m grateful for it.”
It only took a moment before Jung-ho found what he was looking. It was the most popular thing right now, after all.
He reached for his earphones out of habit, but stopped himself before playing the video through the phone’s speaker instead.
It was a six-minute clip.
With every passing minute, he turned the volume up a little more.
When it ended, he said, “Let me have the earphones for just six minutes.”
“…Keep it low, please.”
“Got it.”
He plugged in and hit replay.
How many times had he replayed this song, he wondered. Eventually, he pulled the earphones out and stared blankly out the window.
“We’re here.”
At the concert venue.
The show began on schedule. About two hours in, tens of thousands of fans had sunk deep into Jung-ho Yoon’s performance.
Then, suddenly, out of the blue he said something unexpected.
“Everyone, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be doing this, but something keeps popping into my head between songs. I feel like I haven’t been fully present with you tonight.”
The audience was flabbergasted. He delivered a flawless live performance worthy of Korea’s top R&B singer. What did he mean, not fully present?
Voices erupted from the crowd.
“That’s not true!”
“It was amazing!”
“We’ll be the judge of that!”
“You’re the best, Jung-ho!”
“We love you!”
Jung-ho spoke again. “There isn’t much time left in the show, but I want to be completely focused for whatever’s remaining. So I need to get this thing out of my head first. I apologize again.”
Huh?
Confusion spread across the audience’s faces.
“Oh, and if you could film this and upload it online, I’d appreciate it.”
He closed his eyes and began to sing.
“…Wait.”
“What!?”
Most of the crowd’s eyes went wide with shock. They understood exactly what it meant for him to be singing this particular song.
“That’s Yumi’s song!”
“Jung-ho’s throwing his hat in too? That’s insane! OMG!”
“…Game over, then.”
Three songs across three minutes.
A heavyweight had entered the war of artists competing for a spot on Yumi’s album.
**
In the male idol group Golden Tree, Min-seok served as the main rapper, and Hyun-woo was their lead vocalist.
Hyun-woo had been passed over for main vocalist because another member had higher range. But fans and members alike acknowledged that Hyun-woo had the best singing voice in the group, bar none.
“You’re watching more of those videos again? It’s out of your hands now. Staring at your phone won’t change anything. Just wait quietly until the results come in.”
Min-seok, who had just come back after finishing practice with Kid, called out to Hyun-woo.
Hyun-woo sat scrolling through videos other artists had posted and didn’t even look up when he answered.
“Jung-ho Yoon just posted his too.”
“…That’s bad.”
“Yeah. When Yumi picks her vocalists, she won’t care about fandoms. So this is really bad.”
Min-seok went quiet.
Hyun-woo let out a sigh and continued. “You list to it for only a minute and it’s stuck in your head. These songs… they’re going to be incredible.”
“You can do it. You know your singing doesn’t lose out either.”
“I just hope Yumi sees something she likes in mine.”
Hyun-woo finally set down the phone he’d been glued to.
That was when he noticed Min-seok’s expression. Completely different from his own. Bright.
“I guess your practice is going well? Getting along with Kid?”
A deep smile settled on Min-seok’s lips.
“Smooth sailing. The song’s amazing too. It’s a different genre, but purely in terms of quality, it holds its own against any of Yumi’s tracks.”
“True. It really was good. It sounds like it’s going to be a hit.”
**
“Our boss really knows how to work the angles. Somehow, he gets people hyped without really lifting a finger.”
K Management’s Office.
Manager Jang snorted at Team Lead Na’s remark.
“I would say this is way beyond hype. The fandoms are at war with each other. It’s not just one or two, either. They’re literally drawing blood.”
Team Lead Na burst out laughing.
Manager Jang stared at him, startled by the intensity of the reaction.
“You’re that happy about it?”
“Of course I am! Artists are falling all over themselves just to be on Yumi’s album! Nobody looks at Yumi like some rookie idol anymore, you know! You’d think someone would say ‘isn’t this beneath me?’ But are the fans saying that? Are the artists? Nobody is! They just want their singer to be chosen, so they go to war with other fandoms over it.”
Now that Manager Jang understood what was behind the laughter, a chuckle of his own slipped out.
“And that’s the smart way to do it. Some of the artists who didn’t participate are probably the ones whose pride wouldn’t let them. They’ll regret it once they hear the full versions. But of course, by then, it’ll be too late.”
“Exactly! The one-minute previews are just a taste of how incredible the full tracks are. That kid is an actual genius. Her growth is ridiculously fast.”
“I swear I’ll get an ear infection from hearing that so many times.”
**
Filming Day.
I drove the van toward the dorm and climbed up the villa stairs at a snail’s pace.
The car had changed. The practice room had changed. The office had changed. We even had a proper studio now. But this place stayed the same.
The company had expanded. Both me and the members’ were in a better place. But this place stayed the same.
Just as the members had grown attached to it, so had I.
It felt like a hazy memory. Taking Blue Sherbet out of HS, debuting them from this place, and watching it all collapse.
And the day I regressed. Coming back here with Jin-ah.
Whether we were at our lowest or at our highest, every trace of us lived here.
I punched in the door code and opened it. Only quiet air greeted me.
“Hey, you’re here?” Jin-ah kept her voice low as she said hello and with a mischievous expression.
“Messing around again?”
I passed the entryway into the living room, but there was nobody there.
Hee-yeon and Yoon-jung being out made sense, but Yumi always came padding over the moment I arrived and greeted me first.
“Is Yumi sleeping?”
We needed to leave for the shoot. Don’t tell me she hadn’t even washed up.
As I stood there puzzled, Jin-ah smiled and answered. “She finished getting ready and is just getting some shuteye for a minute.”
The fact that she still hadn’t come out of her room meant she must have drifted off.
But her only schedule yesterday had been vocal training.
“Did she not sleep well?”
I tilted my head in thought, and that was when I caught it. The corner of Jin-ah’s mouth was twitching.
What was going on?
Suspicious.
I narrowed my eyes and fixed a hard stare on her. The trembling spread from her lips to her eyes, which was starting to look like a small tremor.
Did she not realize that stubbornly holding eye contact was making her look more suspicious, not less?
“You’re hiding something.”
“N-nooo?!”
She was.
“Tell me the truth. Did you two… fight?”
The twitching stopped.
Replaced by a deep frown.
“Fight? Who says! I’m so nice to her! The poor thing is already…”
Jin-ah’s breath caught.
“Poor thing?”
I glanced toward the room that Yumi shared with Yoon-jung, then jerked my chin at Jin-ah to beckon her toward the room she shared with Hee-yeon.
Jin-ah followed me with heavy steps.
“Sit down.”
“…Is this an interrogation?”
“Then stand.”
She sat in the room’s single chair, defeat written all over her face.
“You said ‘poor thing.’ What does that mean?”
Yumi was riding the biggest wave of her career. What was there to feel sorry about?
‘No. Wait.’
Everyone was calling Yumi a genius and heaping praise on her. Established artists were fighting tooth and nail to be on her album. The response to ‘Mistake’ was still piping hot. People kept asking when she would release the song she made with Hae-yeol.
I asked, sensing that my hunch would be right. “Don’t tell me Yumi’s been feeling pressured?”
Jin-ah shook her head violently in response.
Her eyes met mine without a flicker of hesitation, insisting that wasn’t it.
“No! That’s really not it! After vocal training she comes home and practices guitar, and she keeps rewatching the videos other artists posted! She says she needs to find inspiration, so she’s trying all sorts of things, and she just doesn’t have time to sleep! That’s all!”
…That was the definition of feeling pressured.
Pushing herself because she couldn’t bear to disappoint the expectations around her.
I dragged a hand down my face.
“How long has this been going on?”
Since the last filming, she had only been shuttling between vocal training, the dorm, and the studio. We hadn’t been able to see each other face to face.
“…”
Jin-ah looked up at me with a pained expression.
She grabbed my folded arm and clung to it.
“Yumi made me promise not to tell you! She said it would only take a little longer! Pulling a few all-nighters for work is totally normal. Everyone does it. That’s all this is!”
So it wasn’t just one night. She’d barely slept for days.
“…Fine.”
“Don’t you dare tell her I said anything! Promise me!”
Her grip on my arm tightened.
Her other hand shot toward my face, pinky extended.
From the look in her eyes, she had no intention of letting me leave this room without a pinky swear.
“Okay. I got it, I promise.”
“Stamp it.”
Did we really have to do something this childish?
“Stamp it!”
“Why not ask for a copy while you’re at it.”
“That’s so childish. Who does that?”
I had no words.
As soon as I pressed my thumb against hers obediently, Jin-ah’s face relaxed into relief.
She even let out a long breath and patted her own chest.
Maybe I should just tell Yumi.
“I was… sleeping in here the whole time. Got it?”
I left her room and headed for Yumi’s.
Knock knock.
“…”
I opened the door.
She was lying with her legs hanging off the edge of the bed, positioned to spring up at a moment’s notice.
Soft, even breathing. Eyes closed.
“Yumi.”
“…”
“Yumi.”
Her eyelids rose slowly.
She blinked at me, still foggy.
“President Kang…?”
“Time to go. We’ve got filming.”
She blinked a few more times, then sat bolt upright.
She rubbed her eyes briefly, then smiled.
A sleepy, gentle grin.
“Let’s go.”
I nodded. I headed down the villa stairs, got in the van, and quietly took the wheel.
Yumi settled into the passenger seat, same as always.
I went through the trouble of buying a van and a Carnival, and the members still fought over the passenger seat.
Before rounding the corner, I stole a glance. She was on her phone, scrolling through the song videos artists had been posting.
I kept my voice casual. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”
“Oh, no. Not yet. Have you?”
“Me neither.”
A brief calculation flittered through my head. It was very brief.
The decision came in an instant.
Maybe it was impulsive. Because I didn’t have a clear plan.
“Yumi. Want to grab some jeyuk-deopbap?”
(T/N: Jeyuk-deopbap is a popular Korean dish of spicy stir-fried pork served over rice.)
“What?”
Her gaze went from her phone to me.
She asked in a flustered voice. “But then won’t we be late for filming?”
I worked hard to make my smile look mischievous.
“We do all this to eat, right? What’s it matter. A little detour once in a while never hurt.”
“I-I’m really fine! I’m not even that hungry…!”
What had started as an impulsive remark began assembling itself into a plan as I spoke. The puzzle pieces were clicking together on their own.
I needed to take some of the weight off her shoulders.
“I’m the hungry one. And you like jeyuk-deopbap, too.”
“But… everyone will be waiting for us.”
I’d already turned the wheel.
Not toward the filming location, but toward the jeyuk-deopbap place.
“I’ll just call and say sorry. Honestly, it’s the production team’s fault for scheduling a shoot at a time that’s awkward for eating.”
I shifted the blame for a completely nonsensical reason.
“And who goes through life doing everything by the book? You disappoint your parents, break promises, talk behind people’s backs, get into fights. You fail sometimes too. That’s just how it goes.”
The van rolled on. Yumi was quiet.
All I heard was her tapping at her phone. Tap, tap, tap.
I kept talking. “You know, when I first started this company, everyone seemed to think I would make it big right awa-”
A short vibration signaled a message from Jin-ah.
[I told you not to tell her it was me!!! You stamped the promise and you’re breaking it already ARE YOU SERIOUS!!!]
Huh? But I never said anything.
Another message came through, right on its heels.
[Yumi’s asking me why I told youuuu T_T]
“…”
My phone was mounted on the dashboard.
Which meant Yumi, who sat in the passenger seat, could see every word.
I turned my head slightly. Sure enough, she was looking at my phone too.
But her reaction wasn’t what I expected. She was grinning.
“President Kang, you’re really bad at this.”
Damn it.
Not only was this awkward. It was embarrassing.
I was trying to gently show her she didn’t need to carry that kind of pressure.
“Any elementary kid would’ve seen through that.” She laughed, genuinely amused.
Well, it was a relief, if nothing else.
“This is what happens when you make people worry. Walking around with pressure you don’t need.”
“I just wanted to do better.”
“When the people around you start worrying, that’s how you know you’ve crossed the line.”
“…President Kang, so are we getting jeyuk or not?”
“…What do you think?”
I felt her gaze from the passenger seat, as she turned her head fully to stare at my face.
“Can we go to the studio instead? I think I’m getting an idea right now. I might actually be able to finish the album.”
“What?!”
Where did the inspiration even come from?
“But I guess we can’t, right? Today’s filming schedule doesn’t include studio time.”
Can’t? What do you mean, can’t?
“I’ll call and say sorry. Actually… they’ll probably be thrilled.”
Yumi’s first full-length album.
I had no idea where this second wave of inspiration had come from, but the album was about to be completed.
—