Chapter 91 : A Successful Fan
Chapter 91: A Successful Fan
A star composer, shining at the top of the copyright royalties chart.
Busan Goblin, Do Gibong.
He was a pro who survived the ruthless jungle.
On TV, on YouTube.
He always introduced himself with the phrase "professional composer."
So what does professional composer mean here?
It means he makes a living through composing.
There were people who looked at that unfavorably.
They’d talk like this:
Busan Goblin is a money freak!
Busan Goblin only chases trends!
Busan Goblin just tosses out a track and calls it a day!
Busan Goblin doesn’t care about the singer, only the commercial value!
He knew it too.
That they all got together and whispered like that.
But—
"Actually... isn’t that a good thing?"
Saying that a commercial composer chases money...
Isn’t that high praise?
He had ditched the whole pretentious art gig long ago.
No one appreciated it anyway.
Explosive beats, hook lines that repeat like chants, merciless melodies smashed in without dynamics.
Aha, so that’s what people liked.
Alright then.
If that’s the case, I can serve it up endlessly. That’s easy for me.
From that point on, they started to pay attention.
It became a kind of formula.
A secret recipe to earn money, and the minimum mechanism to avoid criticism.
He simply swapped out the theme in the formula he’d created.
Eventually, he began writing songs with this mindset:
"Let’s just think of collecting trophies as a hobby."
It wasn’t fun, but it got results.
And once he had collected them, he felt kind of proud in his own way.
During YouTube shoots, in interviews—
He always put on a modest front and said things like:
It’s really fortunate. That my taste aligns with yours. A pop composer has to fully understand the public’s needs and the singer’s concept and yada yada...
Sorry, but that was all a lie.
"You think I never had anything I truly wanted to do…?"
Systematized creativity.
That’s a powerful, but tragic weapon for a creator.
Words once spoken are hard to take back.
He knew many aspiring musicians were watching him and building dreams.
He didn’t want fantasy to become reality.
But today, a crack appeared in his once-firm heart.
Gazing at the night view shimmering across the Han River,
Do Gibong kept replaying his conversation with Taeyoon over and over.
"You were a fan? Haha…"
It wasn’t just a common greeting.
Saying he liked a song? That didn’t even count as a compliment.
Saying he had great sensibility? Every established composer hears that.
That kind of greeting was as cliché as "Let’s grab a meal sometime."
But—
Thank you for continuing to make music.
Taeyoon was saying something else entirely.
How did he know?
<War,War> had been his sore spot.
Not an idol, not a typical dance singer either.
He had debuted in a vague position, thinking he’d be free to do the music he wanted.
A false hope.
Taeyoon had nailed it.
That truly emotional, lyrical melody he had really wanted—
He had disguised it as a flashy dance song, layering an intense, even desperate sound on top.
And now, a rookie composer who had just stepped into the industry—
Was beginning to dismantle his persona.
I want to try recreating it.
Recreating what?
The song you really wanted to sing, sir.
That potentially reckless move—
For some reason, made him feel hopeful.
He leaned back in the passenger seat.
The awkward silence was uncomfortable.
Maybe turning on the radio would help.
As he reached for the center fascia, he said,
“Mind if I play some music?”
Huh?
The radio was playing Taeyoon’s song, <Ancora>.
Ancora, drop the anchor.
Do Gibong let out a chuckle.
Talk about perfect timing.
He glanced at the substitute driver beside him.
A slight nod, lips twitching.
Ah, he wants to sing along.
“Driver, do you know this song?”
Then the driver responded immediately, as if he’d been waiting:
“I like this song. It’s by Cheongseong, right? Or—what was it? I heard the name’s changed now…”
“They’re The Kids Who Escaped From Us.”
“Yeah, yeah. I really used to like Cheongseong. Wow, I had no idea The Kids Who Escaped From Us were Cheongseong.”
“What do you think of the song?”
“It’s good. How do I put it…”
The driver continued with a rather serious expression.
“Feels like it’s telling my story.”
“You mean, you relate to it?”
“These days, it’s hard to relate to kids’ music. Can’t even hear the lyrics properly.”
“That’s true.”
Do Gibong muttered in a self-deprecating tone.
“Especially the ones made by Busan Goblin. Same old patterns, just different riffs, and no matter who sings it, they all sound similar. But somehow, they sell well, right? It's strange. The public’s impossible to figure out.”
…Who is this guy? What kind of drunken rant is this?
And what’s with that Busan Goblin talk.
The driver thought nothing of it and simply pressed down harder on the accelerator.
I’m happy.
Today, I became a successful fan.
When I entered this industry, I had a few goals in mind.
First, people I wanted to meet.
Among them were Kwak Youngho and Jung Jaewook.
Unfortunately, they were at the bottom of the list.
If I had to rank them, Busan Goblin would be right at the top—without question.
On the way to Sierra,
I put in my AirPods and played Maron Music.
The track, of course, was Cool Down’s <War,War>.
The credits were simple:
Lyrics: Do Gibong
Composition: Do Gibong
Arrangement: Do Gibong, Baek Yoonchan
Baek Yoonchan?
Never heard that name before. He’s not a member.
Still, there were a few comments, though not many.
[26 Comments]
The beat’s hype, anyway, that’s it.
Ah ah, it’s 202X now. Is anyone still listening?
↳ Wow lolol me lolol
↳ 22222 me too lolol
Strangely, it feels like the melody and beat don’t match.
The lyrics feel childish but oddly go well with the melody.
I listen to it sometimes when I work out, haha.
↳ ㅠㅠ I think it’d still be fine if it were released now.
It’s a dance song, but watashi why are these tears……
See? I’m not the only one.
I played the track.
Tried to calm down, but inside, I was fired up and overwhelmed.
That’s the kind of emotion I felt from the song.
I opened the lyrics.
War war war, you don’t know this war.
Cool cool cool, outside ICE, inside HELL.
Every day’s like a war, even if I fall, I fight again.
Hmm… I must’ve been in high school when I wrote this.
If you’re in high school, it’s not strange to think like that, sure.
When I was in elementary school, these lyrics felt so cool.
Now, they sound a bit different.
Still, even if the lyrics themselves are a bit old-fashioned, how should I put it—
Busan Goblin must’ve instinctively known how to spot commercial hooks even back then.
By constantly contrasting “cool down” and “war,” the thematic delivery got stronger.
And repeatedly mentioning the song title and team name in the lyrics—that was a trend at the time.
Would it be rude to change the lyrics? I’ll ask later……
With that, I listened to my so-called “My Little Song.”
The kind of song no one else remembers, but one that only I hold close.
“Hmm.”
Performing at Sierra three times a week—unchanged.
<Avalanche> was done recording, so now we just wait for release.
In that case……
Okay, I’ve got time.
I made up my mind. The title track of the first CD I ever bought with my own money.
A song the original creator can’t even bear to listen to anymore.
Let’s help him reconnect with it.
In my own way.
I met Busan Goblin again a week later.
I thought I wouldn’t see him for a while, but we met sooner than expected.
Right in front of my place, at a café.
Two hours before the Manny Entertainment meeting, no less.
He kept nagging me to come out early—
I couldn’t even properly fix my hair.
Do Gibong looked at me and asked,
“……Did you just wake up?”
“Yes.”
“You pulled an all-nighter.”
“Ha ha.”
After downing the iced coffee in one shot, I felt a bit more awake.
An Americano without even a drop of syrup.
Lately, I could kind of understand why people drink this like water.
“Whew, I can finally breathe.”
“You don’t like sweet stuff?”
How’d he know?
It’s not like I had ‘likes sweet things’ written on my face.
“Well, I do… but…”
Anyway. There wasn’t much time.
I got straight to the point.
“By the way, what brings you here? The arrangement isn’t done yet. Actually, to be honest, I haven’t even started.”
I naturally assumed he came to talk about the arrangement.
That was the main topic of our conversation at the BBQ place.
But Do Gibong brought up something else.
“Do you remember what I said when we parted that day?”
“You mean when you asked where I was going?”
“No, something else.”
I didn’t remember anything.
What was it?
“I don’t know.”
“I mentioned the Signum title track.”
“Ah!”
Now I got the context.
Wait—wasn’t that just drunken talk?
“Do you remember? Didn’t you drink a lot that day?”
“Who gets drunk from two glasses of wine?”
“Huh? I just assumed you were joking.”
Do Gibong leaned in close.
Then, sipping on his straw, he quickly scanned the café before speaking in a low voice.
“You’re going to Manny today, right?”
I answered in surprise.
“How did you know?”
What the—
It’s not like he was spying on me.
But despite my startled reaction, Do Gibong spoke quickly, unfazed.
“Today, they’re going to talk about something really important at Manny.”
“What kind of talk?”
“Probably… you’ll be notified that Composer Stay’s track has been selected as the new title.”
“Excuse me?”
I had no idea how to respond.
Even if that were true—
Why was this coming from Busan Goblin and not someone from Manny?
Where was this going?
“So you really didn’t know.”
“Apparently not.”
“I heard it’s causing a stir. Word is the producing was top-notch. You’re close with the Signum members. The song fits them perfectly. Do I need to explain more?”
To be honest, it had been a fun project.
The Signum guys followed my lead well, and I learned a lot from Engineer Kang Yeonho.
But… that alone doesn’t justify switching the title track, does it?
Feeling completely thrown off, I checked the time and said,
“In two hours—no, an hour and a half now. I’ll find out when I get there.”
“Sounds like they really struggled with the decision. They know I’ll pull my track if I don’t get the title.”
I just nodded.
Then Do Gibong mumbled,
“I couldn’t believe it either… but I was dying to know. Just what kind of track could push mine out and take the title?”
“Wait, sir.”
“Yeah?”
“You’ve got a reliable source inside Manny, and you heard this before it went official. Is that what I’m supposed to understand?”
“Hahaha.”
Do Gibong laughed once and clapped his hands before continuing.
“Acting clueless, but you’re quick.”
I glanced at the wall clock.
No time. Judging from how long-winded this is, he probably came with a favor to ask.
So I said it straight.
“If this isn’t official yet and you came to tell me in person, I’m guessing you’re about to ask something hard to say. Am I right?”
“Exactly. The reason I rushed over to catch you, Composer Stay…”
This time, Do Gibong picked up his coffee.
After finishing it in one go, he barely put the cup down before asking:
“Could you help me keep my pride?”
Pride?
Out of nowhere, what is this…
Was he asking me to give up the title? I couldn’t do that.
That was his pride—but it was mine too.
What was I supposed to do?
As I hesitated, Do Gibong said with a kind of plea in his voice:
“I mean—don’t think about me. Just think about your song, Composer Stay. Do you understand what I mean?”
Could it be… that?
I slowly nodded.
I was beginning to get a sense of it.