Chapter 130
– So, you’re eating properly, right?
“Of course, noona. It’s just that I’ve got too much time wandering outside right now, not that I’m actually working much. I’m basically a salary thief, you know?”
– Yeah, right. I’d be surprised if you weren’t just gathering up all sorts of tasks that you don’t have to do and working yourself to death.
…You know me too well?
– Having things you want to do is good, but don’t pour everything into that one thing. People aren’t machines. If you exhaust all your energy just because you can, you’ll break down.
“…I’ll try my best.”
Not sure if it’ll go as planned, though…
– Please, at least make some effort to relax.
“Yeah…, I’m good at putting in the effort.”
Leaving a lukewarm reply to noona’s worried nagging, I hung up and sighed, then started fiddling with the keyboard again.
Honestly, it was understandable for her to be worried. I hadn’t properly stopped by home and said hello in a while. My work-life balance had been shattered a long time ago, but I couldn’t really blame anyone for it. It was my original sin of having a mindset that was too caught up in preparing for my perfect debut.
I was living such a busy life that even the words “weekend” and “leisure” felt like distant memories, yet, to challenge myself in the new territory of composing, I somehow carved out time to be in the studio. Even during these late-night hours when the subway wasn’t even running anymore. But despite that precious time, my work was sluggish.
“…I’m seriously going crazy.”
It wasn’t that there was nothing I could do; it was that there were too many things I could do that was the problem.
Thoughts swept in like waves, and inspirations bubbled up like fizz, with each one shouting that they were the answer. However, none of them felt like a definitive 100-point answer.
“I can’t be satisfied with just this…”
The ideal was high.
What I wanted was a quality that could be called top-tier in the industry.
80 points or even 90 points were not enough. It had to be 100 points. If it’s not, I wouldn’t forgive myself. I’d ignore my pride and the expectations placed upon me to buy a guaranteed hit song.
Reality was weak.
I was a beginner, and though I was under excessive expectations, I had only achieved success by chance once as an ordinary person. In fact, I even doubted whether that was true success.
I tapped on the keys. The melody rang out.
The performance data went up on the sequencer. I played it back. Then erased it again.
I couldn’t even tell if this was good or bad. It just felt vaguely insufficient.
I lacked conviction.
I’m done for.
I lacked talent.
I was the one who fell short.
I stood up in frustration and wandered the hallway, almost unconsciously making my way to the smoking room. I didn’t have any cigarettes, but I was overwhelmed by a strong urge to at least catch a whiff of that cigarette smell.
An idea popped into my head: there’s a convenience store about a 5-minute walk away. I desperately craved just that one pack.
I paused, wrestling with the intense urge, and eventually let out a deep sigh.
“…What a shameful thing to be doing in front of the kids.”
I was the manager in charge of those kids. For me to be unable to control a single impulse and be looming around them smelling like smoke was an infinitely embarrassing behavior.
Giving up, I returned to the studio.
There, next to the monitor displaying the DAW program, I spotted a yellow Post-it note attached to a fatigue recovery supplement.
[Hang in there! – Fan No. 1]
“…”
What an undeserved expectation.
“…Should I try just a little harder?”
I still wanted to give back to that heartfelt support.
The dawn passed just like that.
*
“I’m an idiot.”
With my head buried in the keyboard, I declared again.
“I’m a complete idiot.”
Oh Jin-woo, who had been sampling beside me, clicked his tongue and remarked.
“Team Leader Seon has finally reached the second stage of creation.”
“What was the second stage, again? Compromise?”
“No, that’s the fourth stage. The second stage is anger.”
“Anger? I don’t really seem angry right now, though?”
“Unless you’re someone as self-assured as you are, anger usually comes out like that. It’s because you’re directing the anger inward.”
“…Why are you analyzing me all of a sudden?”
“What’s that? The third stage?”
“No, it’s not that the stage has changed. The focus of the anger is shifting towards me.”
Isabella, who had been listening with an indifferent expression, shot a glare at Oh Jin-woo and said,
“Jin-woo, if you know that much, how about keeping quiet? Don’t you realize how difficult things are for Team Leader Seon right now that you make those kinds of jokes? Did you sell your conscience along with your manners?”
“…Yes, Bella noona.”
“James, you also better step in if your little brother goes off like that.”
“…I’m sorry.”
Though the two bowed their heads to apologize, it didn’t really matter to me. What truly mattered was the painful reality that this damn composition was still stuck in a rut.
“Team Leader Seon, try to relax a little and take it slow. It’s very rare for creation to happen in a snap.”
“I know that, but we’re running out of time.”
“…That’s true.”
Perhaps if everything had gone according to the original plan, I wouldn’t be feeling this anxious. The problem was that I had moved the debut schedule up.
It might not have been worth feeling this anxious. The problem was that I had moved the debut schedule forward.
Choreography, styling, music video, stage design, package design—if I wanted to line up all the steps for the debut, the song had to be completed as soon as possible. So, the time I had left was practically none.
“I really don’t know what to do. Nothing seems like an answer.”
“Hm… Honestly, I thought there were quite a few good drafts made by Team Leader Seon. Can’t we just go with one of those?”
“If I were going to settle for something mediocre, I’d rather take it off the album.”
“…That’s true.”
James Oh chuckled softly as he watched me slam my head against the keyboard, trying to squeeze out a melody.
“What does Team Leader Seon want to convey with that song?”
“What I want to convey?”
“Yes, it might sound somewhat abstract, but most songs start from those little messages.”
“…I was just playing without thinking.”
“Even now? When you’re endlessly exploring with a desire for creation, do you really have no story at all?”
“….”
“You don’t need to think too hard. We don’t need any philosophical discourse or political commentary. It’s enough just to capture the intent you had when you arranged it back then, a simple emotion will do.”
…What do I want to achieve with this song?
I had no desire to become a great composer. Naturally, as a manager, I wanted to shine a light on my children, the ones named after the seasons, rather than myself.
‘…Then I’ll believe you right now. I’m already happy.’
A child blooming with a smile reminiscent of spring in the cold wind.
‘…Wait, …wait, hug me.’
A child who longs for warmth more than anyone yet shares their warmth with others.
‘Meeting someone like you is the greatest fortune of my life.’
A child who, despite unimaginable despair, continued to bloom without giving up.
‘When I see that, I wish I could suffer in your place.’
A child who said they wanted to resemble someone but ended up becoming even cooler.
“….”
I wanted to make them shine.
That was all I wanted to say, all I intended.
“In that sense, what Team Leader Seon needs to think about right now is….”
“Stop talking, James.”
“Huh…? Did I say something weird again?”
“No, it was a good thing. …But I think it’s not necessary anymore.”
“…Yeah, it doesn’t seem necessary anymore.”
James Oh smiled as he watched Taeyang, immersed in his own world, seemingly oblivious to the sounds around him.
Seeing Taeyang so immersed in his work as if he couldn’t hear anything around him, I couldn’t help but smile.
“It seems you’ve already found your direction.”
*
We went silent as we played the melody captured in the sequence.
“‘….’”
I still couldn’t tell if it was a 10, a 50, or a 100. Despite countless revisions and honing, I still wasn’t confident if this was a good song.
Yet, I was certain it was the song I wanted to express.
James Oh, humming the completed melody beside me, asked,
“So, what are you thinking for the song’s title?”
“The title? Isn’t it a bit early to give it one when I haven’t even written the lyrics yet?”
“Still, I thought Team Leader Seon might have something in mind.”
“…That’s true.”
As he said, I did have a name thought out. The eyes of James Oh, Oh Jin-woo, and Isabella were all on me, waiting for my response. I calmly stated,
“I’ll call it Albatross.”
That name popped into my mind when I saw those kids.
“For now, that’s what I’ll call it.”
*
“This is the song I want to use for this album.”
As James Oh finished demonstrating the four songs, the TwoBear staff applauded. However, some of them wore expressions that seemed to ask, ‘Is this it?’
The reason was not that the four songs revealed by James Oh were of low quality or lacked something. His work boasted the highest quality, just like his reputation. Yet, James Oh knew very well why they looked at him that way. He was also waiting for someone. But that man was not present.
Unable to hold back her curiosity, Jin Yeoreum looked around and asked,
“Um, where is Team Leader Seon…?”
“Sorry for being late.”
At that moment, Seon Taeyang burst in through the door, apologizing. Gaeul lit up upon seeing him.
“Brother Taeyang!”
Taeyang gave her a small smile before sitting in front of the computer, which was outputting audio, and said,
“There was an error found during the adjustment process, so I was a bit late.”
“It’s okay, Team Leader Seon. We all understand it was a tight schedule.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
Taeyang glanced at the four kids who had their eyes wide open and the TwoBear staff before saying,
“Then, let’s start the playback.”
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