Chapter 90 : Let’s Use That Excuse to Meet Again
Chapter 90: Let’s Use That Excuse to Meet Again
There were people you could recognize just by their clothes or atmosphere, even if you couldn’t see their face.
Busan Goblin was like that.
The PC café was pretty packed, but he stood out as if an arrow was pointing right above his head.
It wasn’t like his clothes were flashy, though……
‘What is this, some kind of uniform or something……’
A black ball cap with a gray hoodie.
A lightweight padded jacket hanging on the chair.
Hm. Familiar.
Wait…… am I like that too?
Feeling oddly self-conscious, I checked my own outfit.
Of course…… I was the same.
Damn it.
If only Hyung hadn’t tossed my white hoodie in the dryer and shrunk it down into kid’s clothing.
Still, there was a difference.
The senior composers or engineers I’d run into at the company all had hollowed-out faces, bluish jaws, and messy hair.
Thankfully, I wasn’t at that stage yet.
Anyway, with a nervous heart, I walked step by step toward Busan Goblin.
He didn’t even notice my presence, muttering to himself and completely focused on something.
It was bound to be League of Legends or StarCraft.
Curious, I peeked at his monitor.
“……?”
The screen was filled with a bunch of squares.
Numbers scattered here and there.
Was that the Minesweeper I’d only ever heard about?
And why did his expression look so dead serious?
“Ahem.”
At my fake cough, Busan Goblin jolted around.
The moment our eyes met, he shot up from his seat.
“Oh? You’re Composer Stay, right?”
Huh, how did he recognize me?
Was it the clothes?
Seeing me stay silent, he seemed sure of it and grinned.
“Thought so. When did you get here? Nice to meet you.”
I shook the hand he held out and greeted him back.
“Hello. I just arrived.”
“But, sorry. Give me a sec. I’m about to win this. Can you wait a little? Five minutes, no—three.”
His face was neat and clean.
I’d seen him a few times on YouTube before.
But he felt livelier in person.
Looking at his monitor, I said,
“Uh……. You must be really good at games.”
Busan Goblin turned to me with a sparkle in his eyes.
“Oh, really?”
I didn’t know much about games.
It was just small talk.
Kind of like a filler greeting?
I had nothing else to say, and standing there like furniture felt weird.
So I’d just said it.
“Do I really look like I’m good at games?”
“……Uh? Yeah, sure. I guess?”
“That makes me feel amazing.”
Was that really something to feel so good about?
Even pro gamers probably didn’t look that intense.
I watched him play for a while, entertained.
Not because the game itself was fun, but because his actions were.
There was advice Teacher Oh Jisoo once gave me.
Look at people, draw keywords, think of stories, and build creations from them.
From what I’d seen of him on YouTube, he seemed meticulous.
But was he really? Just as I was wondering—
“Gah!”
With a bang, the screen flashed with a mine exploding.
“Ah……. Lost. Let’s go.”
Busan Goblin pulled off his cap to fix his hair and stood up.
But why did he stumble?
I subtly supported him and asked,
“Are you…… okay?”
“Ah, I just played too long after a while. My focus slipped. I was winning before, though.”
Don’t tell me losing once actually made his legs buckle?
Gamers were like that, huh.
They said losing really stung.
I offered my version of comfort.
“You can’t win every time.”
“True.”
Busan Goblin stretched his neck side to side as if it was stiff.
Feeling like I’d kept him waiting too long, I apologized out of courtesy.
“Sorry for making you wait.”
“No need. Wasn’t it originally supposed to be two programs? It ended earlier than I thought.”
The conversation was drifting toward music too quickly. I figured I’d better move us along.
“Why don’t we talk in detail while moving? Since you waited, let me buy you dinner, if that’s okay.”
“Oh, nice. Can we go fancy?”
“As much as you want.”
So we headed to Busan Goblin’s favorite barbecue place.
[ 1 serving: 80,000 won (VAT excluded) ]
No problem.
Taeyoon called the staff.
“Three servings of sirloin…… Composer, do you want anything else? Maybe a drink?”
“Oh, if you put it like that, I can’t refuse. Just a sec. Would wine be okay?”
“Yes. Anything’s fine.”
“Fabiola 2019, please.”
The staff had barely stepped out when Busan Goblin started his engine.
He was definitely the type to organize what he wanted to say beforehand.
He’d meant to ask calmly, one question at a time.
But—
“How did you layer that vibraphone module? Wow, it felt dreamy but the rhythm was so smooth, it fit the track perfectly. The emotional shifts really came through.”
The moment he saw Taeyoon’s face, he couldn’t hold back.
A barrage of questions flew out.
“About Super Ride—doesn’t it kind of remind you of No Tears Left To Cry? Was that your reference point? Ah, not saying it’s the same, just similar vibes.”
“There’s a similar feel in SZA’s songs too, though they use subtle bells in the high range, so the mood’s a bit different……”
“Do you know Electric? That one also uses bell sounds throughout. Not as a theme, but still.”
To Dogibong, it felt like he was spilling his words clumsily, but in truth, his questions were closer to admiration.
He had listened to all of Stay’s songs and felt it.
Relentless hard work.
It was like he had absorbed the strengths of every song out there into his own music.
For such a young composer, the richness of expression was overwhelming, and on top of that…… sincerity.
“Ahem.”
Up until now, that was Dogibong the music-fanatic listener.
But he also had to view it as Busan Goblin, the veteran star composer who had rolled around this scene for years.
“Ah, I’ve been hogging the conversation, haven’t I. To sum it up, I meant that your passion and willingness to learn are really impressive. I was like that too.”
After pouring out his words like a waterfall, he glanced at Taeyoon.
‘……What’s this? Why isn’t he saying anything back?’
Normally, a response would come.
Talking about which song gave him inspiration, which VST plugins he used, why he arranged the instruments that way……
Getting excited and chatting away was the usual.
The other person just sat there silently, staring at him.
“Mm……”
Then Taeyoon, carefully choosing his words, gave a vacant look and answered like this.
“Uh……. What did you just say?”
“……?”
Dogibong’s face faltered for a moment.
This…… wasn’t it?
Wait, did I read him wrong again?
No, that couldn’t be……
Like many other famous composers, Dogibong had once prided himself on having sprawling connections.
But.
‘Useless, all of it.’
At some point he realized—everyone was not a colleague, but a competitor.
He had met plenty of composers personally, but most of those meetings hadn’t ended well.
From the start, their intentions were impure.
Trying to squeeze out tips under the guise of friendship.
Or trying to latch onto an agency connection.
He locked eyes with Taeyoon.
What was he thinking?
His face was stiff, blinking and nothing else.
‘A guy with skills like this isn’t looking for connections or tips, right?’
He wasn’t giving off the vibe of someone about to ask for a favor. Nor of someone prying for secrets.
So the two of them sat in silence, lost in their separate thoughts.
“I’ll just go wash my hands real quick.”
“Yep.”
Only after Dogibong left for a moment—
“Phew……”
Taeyoon took a deep breath, calming his racing heart.
‘Why is he saying all the things I was going to say?’
It was Taeyoon who had prepared the questions.
He had wanted to savor the feeling of meeting a senior from the industry, someone who felt like a singer only he remembered.
The synth theme in <Fall of a Star> sounded rough—why did you build the waveform with a sawtooth series?
In <Sweet Boom>, why was the tension chord slightly bent? Was it because of the vocal line?
Sometimes in the pre-chorus you rested two bars before coming in—was that to deliberately break the rhythm?
Do you, by any chance, use a set formula these days when writing?
But those questions only hovered uselessly around his lips.
Looking at his face, hearing his bombardment of questions—Taeyoon couldn’t get a word out.
And thinking again, questions like that…… were meaningless.
It could be summed up simply.
‘I liked it.’
Any other wording was a waste.
He liked the music that flowed from his fingertips, the lyrics that were unassuming yet deep.
At least…… up until three years ago.
……But no need to say that unnecessary part.
Resolute, Taeyoon pulled out the item he had prepared.
A palm-sized piece of paper and a marker.
He neatly set them to the side and waited for Dogibong.
When Dogibong came back in and the sliding door shut, Taeyoon spoke right away.
As if this was where the real conversation began.
“Composer Busan Goblin.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you start making music?”
“……Sorry?”
He thought he had thrown away every expectation of Composer Stay while in the bathroom.
But suddenly came a question that piqued his interest.
“Uh……”
Honestly, it was the first time.
No one had ever asked him that before.
“Hm.”
Dogibong tried to recall.
But nothing really came to mind.
Truth was, he couldn’t think of any ‘cool’ answer.
He could answer right away if he wanted.
But he didn’t want to.
This was still a junior in the industry, after all.
At the very least, he wanted to give an answer that made them go “Wow!”
But a wow wasn’t happening.
Why make music?
There was no fancy reason. Just because he liked it.
So he simply said,
“Just because. I like it.”
And then—
“Wooooow! I knew it…….”
Taeyoon exclaimed, nodding vigorously.
“Uh?”
Dogibong looked puzzled.
Was that really something to be impressed about?
He hadn’t even answered earlier questions, so what was this?
While Dogibong was still dazed—
Taeyoon pulled out the item he had prepared.
“Whaaaaa!”
This time, it was Dogibong who screamed.
Definitely not out of admiration.
His face even flushed red.
It was probably something between—
Embarrassment, shame, humiliation, awkwardness, discomfort, disgrace, mortification…… somewhere in there.
Barely pulling himself together, Dogibong asked,
“This, right now…… why?”
Even his voice shook.
What Taeyoon had pulled out was—
[Cool Down 1st Album]
His debut album.
‘That whole buildup…… was just to show me this?’
Like the group name, they had only walked downhill.
No, it wasn’t even downhill—they never climbed anywhere to begin with.
It had flopped spectacularly, and on top of that, there had even been a copyright dispute.
He had managed to reclaim the copyright somehow, but it wasn’t a memory he wanted to revisit.
So yes, this was his dark past.
‘What the hell.’
It wasn’t exactly a secret.
If you searched “Busan Goblin” on a portal site, it was all there on TreeWiki.
It was just that the agency had gone bankrupt the moment it was released, so it was rarely mentioned.
People didn’t realize it, but there were actually plenty of composers in the field who had once been singers or idols.
He was just one of them.
The real question was, why did Taeyoon bring this up?
Dogibong stared down at the album jacket and asked,
“You actually have this? Why?”
“This was the very first CD I ever bought with my own money.”
“……Liar. No way.”
Who would pay money for this.
Maybe if you picked it up from the recycling bin.
Even if he really had bought it, fine.
But why bring just the jacket photo without the CD?
“My old CD player broke. That CD was inside, and during the move my mom threw it out.”
“Ah.”
“So I only have the jacket left. The case was cracked too.”
“Good grief.”
Let’s see.
Dogibong was thirty this year.
Which meant that album had come out a whole thirteen years ago.
“I was a fan.”
“……”
“I really was.”
Could this be the reason he had wanted to meet today?
Was that why he had stayed quiet all this time, just watching him with that strange look?
“Among the tracks, <War, War>—that was my favorite. You even performed it once on Music Train, didn’t you?”
“Wow, you’re not lying. You remember that?”
“I danced to it on my sixth-grade field trip.”
“Seriously? You danced to it? How was the reaction?”
Should he be honest?
Taeyoon lowered his eyes and replied.
“The reaction was so bad I came down after just the first verse. The kids were asking what the heck that song even was, and who would know something like that……”
“Ah……?”
That was believable.
Dogibong pulled the jacket toward himself and brushed his fingers over it.
For a creator, a work was like a child.
And yet, he had turned his back on it.
Because this…… was a failure.
Holding the marker, he said,
“I don’t have a signature.”
“Huh? Really? Then at least write your name.”
“Mm……. Alright.”
While Dogibong scribbled something down,
Taeyoon calmly said,
“Thank you for continuing to make music.”
Dogibong froze.
He let go of the pen and met Taeyoon’s eyes.
There was a lot he wanted to say, but he didn’t.
It would only be unnecessary baggage.
“Here.”
Taeyoon quietly looked down at what Dogibong had written.
TO, Stay
Your song will be someone’s first too.
Remember. Always, as if it’s the first.
Do Gi Bong
This time, Taeyoon brushed the jacket with his fingers.
“Composer Busan Goblin.”
The boy who had once been a fan of an idol.
Now returned as a proud composer.
“Yes, Composer Stay.”
“I was wondering, could I try arranging <War, War>?”
“Arranging?”
“Yes, it feels too good a song to just leave as is. I’d like to work on it a bit. Would that be alright?”
Dogibong laughed and asked back,
“That failed track? Why? It’ll sound pretty old.”
At that moment, he just thought—
that this kid was a little unusual.
“It may be far from today’s trends, but…… how should I say it. I felt like maybe that was the kind of music you really wanted to make. I could hear a hint of sorrow in the beat.”
“In a flashy dance track?”
“Anyone who’s made music knows, right? The kind of feeling with which a song is approached.”
“And what kind of feeling was that?”
“Can I be completely honest?”
“Of course.”
After a pause, Taeyoon answered.
“‘I don’t want to do this.’”
“Excuse me……? That makes no sense. Didn’t you just say it was the music I wanted to do?”
“The melody and the beat are two separate things.”
“How could you possibly…….”
They went on talking about the song for quite a while after that.
But Dogibong couldn’t quite remember what exactly they had discussed.
Only one thought stuck with him.
This kid.
Maybe—just maybe—he was the kind of ‘true’ genius Dogibong had thought didn’t exist in the world.
“The bill’s already been taken care of.”
“What?!”
“Your companion paid earlier.”
Damn. Same thing had happened when I ate with PD Nam.
I’d been outpaid again.
“I said I’d treat you……!”
“Have you ever seen a senior get treated by a junior?”
“Still!”
Seeing me pout, Dogibong grinned.
“Buy me next time. That way we’ll have an excuse to meet again.”
Huh? Was there such deep meaning behind that?
“Where are you headed, Composer Stay?”
“Ah, Ilsan. The bus will get me there quickly. You’re calling for a chauffeur, right? I’ll wait with you.”
“What am I, a kid?”
“You drank a lot, didn’t you.”
While we chatted, the chauffeur arrived.
“To Seochodong, please. Composer, let’s see each other again soon.”
“Yes, I had a great time today.”
I was about to turn away after saying goodbye.
“Oh, wait wait. Composer, one moment.”
Whirrr—
The window slid back down, and Busan Goblin left me with a cryptic comment.
“Did you know?”
“Sorry?”
“Signum, their title track might change this time.”
“What?”
Before I could ask more, the yellow Ferrari pulled away.
I stood there for a while, watching Dogibong wave a hand out the passenger-side window.
My senior…… he’d definitely had a lot to drink.