Chapter 108 : The Strange Rapper
Chapter 108: The Strange Rapper
A rapper was an underdog.
—That was the common perception.
A cap pulled deep over the hood.
Eyes that stared without caution or expectation.
That was how the underdog stepped onto the stage.
They looked tough but were disadvantaged, spat venomous words but were defensive, spent money but were unstable.
The cause was probably an unfortunate family background.
We often sympathized with them.
Because, in truth, the public tended to stand closer to the weak than to the strong.
That underdog image—that was the rapper we remembered.
But then.
What if the word rapper came with the modifier female?
Similar, but different.
It came with tinted glasses.
Even if they wrote the same lyrics, a man was called real, while a woman was told she was showing off.
Show the slightest emotion, and people would say, “I thought she was strong, but she’s soft, huh?”
Before she even began, she’d already be labeled someone’s copycat.
Cardi B. Nicki Minaj.
Icons of their time, yet names that served as shackles for rappers.
Taeyoon wasn’t any different.
He thought the same way most of the public did.
“Director, I heard you called for me…… Hieeek! Who are you?”
* * *
Before meeting the trembling young lamb—no, rapper—named Taeshi, that was how he’d thought.
If, in my mind, a composer was “a weirdo in a hoodie and snapback, sucking down coffee from a huge cup while pulling an all-nighter,” then a female rapper was “a scary unnie with heavy makeup, firing off aggressive raps.”
The composer part wasn’t far off.
After all, that was exactly what I was doing right now.
But the first rapper I met—Taeshi—completely overturned that prejudice.
“Uh, go on, say hello. You know him, right? Composer Stay.”
If this were a comic, the word fidget fidget would probably appear above her head.
Her face looked half-asleep, gentle, without a hint of makeup.
She looked like someone who’d listen to meditation music more often than rap.
There was none of the intimidating unnie image I’d pictured.
It just felt like a high school senior, in her uniform after finals, sitting down to eat tteokbokki with friends.
“Huup. Hello. I’m Taeshi!”
……What?
Her voice suddenly shifted into that typical rapper tone, with hand gestures to match.
But why didn’t it suit her at all?
Even her smile looked awkward.
Why were her fingers trembling?
It might have looked clumsy —but to me, it was a relief.
Because it fit exactly with what I’d expected.
See, my instincts weren’t wrong after all. Something like that.
So I greeted her comfortably.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Stay.”
“Composer Stay! I’m seriously a huge fan. Um, wait a sec.”
What was she about to do?
Rustle rustle.
She pulled out her phone and started searching for something with a grave expression.
I, Hyung, Director Han, and Team Leader Bang all just exchanged shrugs and watched her.
“Thank goodness. I’ve got it.”
Got what?
Her face was stiff, but the way she held out the phone was full of confidence.
“……?”
She swiped through the screen with her index finger.
Her expression turned triumphant.
On the screen—
“What’s all this? Han Yujin, UTAR, Signum…….”
Photos of the albums I’d worked on appeared one by one.
Each album showed up twice—
one still sealed in its acrylic case, and another clearly used for listening.
So this was what she wanted to show off?
“Proof…….”
Her voice was tiny, but her pronunciation was clear.
“Ah, thank you.”
“I, um…… just to clarify, I didn’t buy them for the photo cards.”
“Ah, right. UTAR’s albums don’t even have photo cards.”
I’d heard plenty of people say they enjoyed my songs before, but no one had ever shown me actual photos to prove their words.
For a moment, someone came to mind—
the members of Signum.
Those guys loved sending me photos to prove everything they said.
Maybe all the kids these days were like that?
That was when Team Leader Bang Hyunwoo asked Taeshi,
“You didn’t hear that Stay was coming today?”
“Nope. I’ve just been stuck in the studio.”
“Right, right. You…… yeah, you liked Composer Stay, huh? Makes sense.”
But then Taeshi straightened her posture and replied firmly,
“It’s not that I like him.”
“……Then what?”
“It’s res.pect.”
Ah……
An awkward silence passed through the office.
Was respect really the right word to throw in there? Why say it with such intensity?
Still, I didn’t dislike it.
Director Han Ji-hyuk let out a soft chuckle.
“How do you always manage to go against everyone’s expectations?”
“Ah, I’m sorry…….”
“No need to apologize. What were you doing before this?”
“Just…… working on a few things in the studio.”
What was with that sudden change in attitude?
Just moments ago she was bright-eyed, talking about respect, and now she looked completely different— like someone who’d just been caught committing a crime.
How could she possibly be a rapper?
That only made me more curious.
I couldn’t hold back any longer.
I decided to get straight to the point.
“Taeshi.”
“Yes!”
Whoa, that energy.
Just a minute ago she looked guilty, but now her eyes were shining again.
“I asked to meet you because I wanted to work together. Is that okay with you?”
“……Oh my god.”
Her pupils trembled as she stared at me.
Then, her face stiffened as she spoke.
“The great Stay wants to work with me? Why on earth……?”
What was with that dazed expression?
It wasn’t from insecurity.
It was pure curiosity.
And since she asked, it was only right to answer.
Without hesitation, I told her,
“Because I want to see your real self.”
Taeshi’s eyes widened as she met my gaze.
It was the first time.
The wandering gaze that had been drifting endlessly around the director’s office finally settled on something.
Now was the moment to strike.
I seized the momentum and continued.
“Taeshi, could you show me your real self?”
At my question, a strange glint flickered in Taeshi’s eyes.
“I actually……”
Just as she seemed ready to speak—firmly, as if she’d made up her mind—
“Oh, your real self?!”
Director Han cut in.
“A rapper’s a rapper, what else could there be? These days they call it that, uh—gap moe? You know, that thing where they act different on and off stage. Hahaha.”
“Uh, um, I—I just.”
Taeshi’s fragmented stammer slipped out as Han Ji-hyuk suddenly interrupted.
At first glance, she seemed flustered—but to my eyes, Director Han looked even more uneasy than she did.
He was too natural about it. I almost fell for it.
What kind of story was hiding here that made a director step in like that?
I spoke again, politely.
“I was just curious about what Taeshi thought.”
“Si-hyun isn’t great with words, you see. Haha. I just didn’t want her to slip up in front of you, Composer Stay.”
See? There it was again.
He answered for her.
And besides—what was there to slip up about right now?
It wasn’t like he disapproved of her working with me.
He didn’t seem like a rude person either.
But a director cutting off his own artist in a meeting? That was something new.
I could smell it.
Something suspicious.
Maybe my expression gave it away, because Taeshi suddenly spoke up.
“Since you asked me, I’d like to answer for myself.”
Oh. That was more like it.
Good thing—because I was about to be disappointed.
Seeing her slightly changed attitude, my expectations rose.
I waited, wondering what she would say—
“Just a moment.”
She opened the laptop she’d brought.
A clumsy beat started to play.
Then, closing her eyes briefly, she clenched her right hand as if holding a mic.
“You can tell without me saying it, aura. In the spotlight, I’m like—whatever, it’s fine.”
……What was she doing?
She suddenly started rapping.
Her rhythm lagged behind, and her last line faded into a murmur.
What was the word for this again?
When you feel secondhand embarrassment.
Ah, right—empathetic cringe.
My ears burned.
Hyung was holding back laughter, and Team Leader Bang flared his nostrils.
As for Director Han Ji-hyuk……
His head was lowered too far for me to see his face, but his shoulders were shaking.
Surely he wasn’t crying.
Still, Taeshi continued her rap.
It was probably self-written.
This wasn’t exactly what I meant by show me your real self, but still.
“Compliments flow like water, hate’s all clogged up. My rap’s sweetie, your feedback’s salty. It’s like sweet and salty.”
I watched her carefully, seriously.
Her emotions didn’t match the awkward bravado.
Strictly speaking, she wasn’t bad—just somehow off.
She was a professional singer with several albums, after all.
Her pronunciation and pitch were precise.
……With such a solid foundation, why was she choosing to rap?
“That’s all.”
Clap, clap—
I gave her genuine applause, and she bowed slightly in response.
Even for a seasoned performer,
rapping out of nowhere in a director’s office wasn’t easy.
The more I listened, the stranger it felt.
Her voice was good, though.
“Thank you. Seeing this, I feel even more certain—I was right about you, Taeshi. I really want to work together.”
“Kyaaa!”
The shrill, almost dying scream that followed made me doubt my ears.
……Huh? Why did that sound good?
Normally, a scream like that would make your ears ring, but— that husky high tone she let out was strangely captivating.
It didn’t sound like a shriek, but like a high note delivered with skill.
Director Han Ji-hyuk placed his index finger lightly over his lips and spoke softly.
“Taeshi-hyun—Si-hyun, shh. Just a second. Sorry, Composer.”
“Ah, it’s fine.”
After that, the conversation continued for a while.
“I think I got a little nervous.”
“It wasn’t bad at all, even now.”
And I meant it.
It was much better than the videos I’d seen before.
In those, Taeshi looked like a paper doll on stage.
“Thank you. Actually, what I really wanted to do was……”
At those words, the director’s pleased expression subtly stiffened.
“Si-hyun.”
“……Sorry.”
There it was again—sorry for everything.
A rapper shouldn’t be like that. She should be confident.
After a bit more casual conversation, our first meeting began to wrap up.
Taeshi thanked us politely and left first.
Hyung and Team Leader Bang had another meeting and excused themselves too.
Naturally, that left only me and Director Han Ji-hyuk.
He maintained his courteous tone, cautiously bringing up the possibility of working with other artists.
“If you ever want to collaborate with someone else, please reach out anytime. Especially Producer Legacy—he’s really been waiting for one of your tracks. Not to mention Lee Hyoeun.”
Even as he listed off other names one after another, my decision was unwavering.
I was curious about Taeshi. I wanted to know more.
The reason I’d requested today’s meeting in the first place was because of her.
“Yes. Thank you for saying that. But still—I find Taeshi quite fascinating.”
For a brief moment, the director’s eyebrow twitched upward.
“Pardon? Why on earth…….”
“Well. Perhaps we can discuss that later, once I bring a demo.”
I held back my words and slowly stood up.
I couldn’t wait to pour what I’d felt today into a track.
The beat, the melody— they were already flowing through my mind.
The impressions I got from Taeshi’s voice—it felt urgent to capture them before they vanished.
But just as I finished saying goodbye and reached the door,
something caught my mind.
Right before turning away, I spoke casually.
“Ah, Director—may I ask one thing?”
“Yes, Composer?”
“Taeshi’s real name is Taeshi-hyun, right?”
“Ah, yes. But why do you ask…….”
Tilting my head slightly, I asked my final question.
“By any chance—is CEO Tae Joonggi her father?”
A brief silence.
The director’s face froze in an instant.
He said nothing.
Only a short breath escaped—like an answer in itself.
Okay. That was enough.
Her hidden background was starting to take shape, faint but clear.
“So, she wasn’t really an underdog after all?”
I gave a polite bow and quietly left the office.
And I made up my mind.
This strange rapper—
I was going to dig deep and uncover everything about her.