The Double Life of a Genius Musician

Chapter 127: Seo Taeyoon Victims Club

I wanted to make a lot of money.

Baek Junhyun always thought that way.

It wasn’t because he needed to pay for his mother’s hospital bills, or cover the settlement for a younger sibling’s mishap, or because his father’s failed business left them drowning in debt, or because he was abandoned at an orphanage as a child and scorned as a so-called orphan.

It wasn’t any of those tired melodramatic clichés.

‘You have to make money to be acknowledged.’

To him, money was validation.

The only way to prove his existence.

All he had was sincerity as his weapon.

Singing? He liked it, and thought he was good at it.

But when he sang in front of his parents on a good day, he was met with, “Why don’t you go study instead?”

Perhaps it was the fate of the middle child.

His older brother was dependable as the eldest, and his younger sister was cute as the youngest.

What was left for the middle child was nothing but comparison.

Maybe that’s why he realized early on—

If there was praise quicker and more certain than “You’re good,” it was money.

A bank account never lies.

“Oh, if I get this month’s pay, I’ll finally have 30 million won…!”

He hid his emotions behind the goal called money.

When he reached 50 million won, he planned to proudly lift his shoulders and say to his parents, “See? I’m this good, hmph.”

But then came Taeyoon, of course.

And the people he met backstage were a little…

“Oh! Junhyun, you’re such a quick learner. You’ve gotta share your secrets with me.”

Something felt off.

“Do you like jajangmyeon? Should I order more? We should get some tangsuyuk too. You eat well—must be your youth!”

“You’re so polite and sweet—must be because you’re Taeyoon’s friend.”

“I like your tone of speech too. You’d be good for voice acting or radio.”

All he did was work hard.

As always.

But here, he was bombarded with praise to the point he couldn’t keep his head straight.

‘What are they seeing in me?’

At first, he thought they were exaggerating.

But it continued the next day. And the day after that.

It was awkward, and he felt sheepish.

But strangely, it also put him at ease.

“You’re good.”

He kept turning those words over and over in his mind.

I’m actually good at something.

Someone’s watching over me.

And maybe…

Maybe what he’d wanted all along wasn’t money, but just that one phrase.

—“You’re doing great.”

Warm, comfortable, gentle atmosphere.

In that kind of space—

Taeyoon faced Baek Junhyun.

“Oh…”

After a week, the person in front of him seemed completely different.

His appearance hadn’t changed.

He still wore plain clothes, his unstyled hair gave off a nerdy vibe, and his thick glasses screamed straight-laced returning student.

Then where had Taeyoon sensed the change in Junhyun?

“Junhyun isn’t the flashy type, but…”

Taeyoon looked around the Backstage practice room.

It wasn’t designed to highlight people.

The lighting was easy on the eyes but dim.

The furniture was plain and tidy, without flair.

There was nothing glamorous about the lighting or layout, yet Baek Junhyun stood out sharply in this space.

Taeyoon rubbed his eyes.

“…Am I just sleep-deprived?”

It wasn’t appearance or outfit that created atmosphere.

It was aura.

And in just a week, Baek Junhyun had gained one.

He couldn’t just sit back and let this interesting sight pass.

Taeyoon grabbed a Coke and sat on the sofa.

He sipped quietly and watched Junhyun and Moon Jungbae’s lesson closely.

“Shall we try the bridge again?”

“Yes.”

He had heard that Moon Jungbae was offering special vocal lessons.

Of course, he expected it to go well.

With that tone, that clean style—there was no way it wouldn’t.

But this? This was beyond expectation.

Baek Junhyun didn’t show a hint of nervousness, even in front of Moon Jungbae.

He released each note with care.

“Even if I smile like in a photo, my heart is always muted—”

“Whoa, that surprised me.”

“…Huh? Me?”

Moon Jungbae sprang up from his seat.

He stroked his chin and walked a few steps, then snapped his fingers.

“That ‘muted—’ part just now. Your volume dipped but the diction stayed clear. Great delivery.”

“That’s kind of an over-praise…”

“Over? No way, Junhyun. I mean it. The sound was clean, but that subtle tremble in your tone—people love that kind of detail.”

“Haha, haha… Thank you.”

Huh? He was totally fine a second ago—why’s he glitching out now?

That’s how it looked to Taeyoon.

Right now, Junhyun was creaking like a robot with a drained battery.

A classic reaction from someone not used to compliments.

Moon Jungbae chuckled fondly.

“What’s that face? Relax. Compliments don’t have side effects. You won’t die from hearing too many.”

“No, really. Thank you…”

Almost like he was cheering him on—

Moon Jungbae gave Junhyun’s shoulders a firm squeeze.

And he didn’t forget to throw a wink at Taeyoon, who was watching the whole thing unfold.

‘Whew. This vocal training is intense.’

Before he realized it, an hour had already passed.

“Alright, that’s enough for today. You’ll be here tomorrow too, right?”

“It’d be an honor!”

“I think I’d miss Junhyun if he weren’t here anymore. I like that you’re consistent. You know singing’s all about steady effort, right?”

“Yes! I’ll keep that in mind!”

“Ha ha, you guys. Too cute.”

Moon Jungbae let out a hearty laugh.

Taeyoon knew that laugh well.

It was the smile Moon Jungbae only wore when he was genuinely fond of someone.

I knew it was a good idea to bring him to Backstage.

It really felt like this place was blessed.

Come here, and even drained energy would come rushing back.

As he was thinking that, a familiar voice rang out.

“Oh, hello. Is this the legendary Backstage that turns fools into geniuses?”

Trying to play it cool—

But his eyes went wide seeing the Cheongseong members.

It was the Busan Goblin, Do Gibong.

“Sunbae-nim! Hello, sir! I go by the stage name Busan Goblin, Do Gibong! I’ve heard so much about you!”

How far was his head going to go down?

Whether I was there or not.

Whether Junhyun was there or not.

Do Gibong kept bowing so deeply his head looked ready to hit his knees.

No, is that even a proper greeting?

From what I could tell, it was practically a bow.

“It’s truly an honor to meet such a legendary band! This is all thanks to Stay and Taeyoon! So glad to meet you, really!”

How many times is he going to greet them?

“Oh? Taeyoon’s guest, you say?”

“Yes, that’s right!”

“Wow, Taeyoon sure has a lot of friends. But Composer-nim, what brings you here?”

“Gasp! You know me?”

What the heck.

What’s with that hand gesture?

He respectfully placed both hands over his chest.

Even the Busan Goblin turns solemn before such a senior.

Moon Jungbae-sunsaengnim replied.

“Of course. Not knowing Busan Goblin would be a crime.”

“Wow… It’s truly an honor.”

“You know, that girl idol song. The one that goes ‘money money money—let let let—’ in the lyrics. Ah! There was that boy idol song too. Mirror ball! The hook just explodes with energy…!” Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on novｅlfire.net

…Why is he moving his body?

Don’t tell me he’s mimicking the choreography?

Moon Jungbae-sunsaengnim’s surprisingly up to date with trends.

He could probably sing most hit idol songs by heart.

Even after that, he kept rattling off Busan Goblin’s hit tracks.

If you only heard him talk, you’d think he was the universe’s greatest composer.

Is he really that big?

“Oh, come on, don’t embarrass me like that.”

And what’s with this guy now.

He’s waving his hands, clearly delighted.

…Why’s his face turning red?

This place was definitely a compliment prison.

Low self-esteem? Come to Backstage!

Not to be outdone, Do Gibong responded with compliments of his own.

Actually, no. That wasn’t a compliment.

It was closer to a religious testimony.

Felt like I was watching some kind of Cheongseong revival meeting.

The sight was so bizarre, I just blinked in confusion.

“But still! The hottest name these days is Stay!”

“Huh? Me? All of a sudden?”

Moon Jungbae raised his hand dramatically and pointed at me.

“Watching you eat tonkatsu, I just knew. This kid isn’t ordinary. When I first heard Ancora, I couldn’t sleep that night. I kept replaying it. Wishing I could’ve sung it. And then, what do you know? That dream became reality.”

He probably said that to boost my confidence with my friend here.

But Do Gibong took it seriously, of course.

“Absolutely, absolutely. Sunbae-nim, the moment I saw Taeyoon, I felt it. There’s something enchanting about him. The way he casually drops a line—every word hits you right in the heart.”

“Wow, even Taeyoon made an impression on you, Busan Goblin-ssi?”

“Yes. I was in a flop-idol group back then, and he came with a crumpled album cover asking for an autograph. Said he was a fan.”

“If it were me, I’d have gone home and cried that night.”

“I did cry. On my way home.”

“Stay’s made a lot of people cry.”

Hey, Baek Junhyun. Stop laughing.

Junhyun was giggling, and Do Gibong kept patting my back.

At this rate, we’d be here all night. Enough with this global compliment contest.

I couldn’t take it anymore and cut in.

“Hold on, just a sec…!”

“Hmm? What is it, maknae? Got something to say too?”

That’s not it.

Why were they looking at me like they were expecting a speech?

I shut my eyes tight and decided to end this cringey moment.

“Everyone here—an incredible band that comes once in a century, and a composer who can send a track to number one on Billboard in just 30 minutes. That enough for you?”

Phew, finally some calm.

“Sunbaenim, we’ve got some things to discuss. Mind if we use the break room?”

I moved with the two of them to a quiet lounge.

The atmosphere quickly settled.

Were they both shy?

Maybe that’s why Do Gibong had gone a bit overboard earlier.

“Let me introduce you. Composer, this is Busan Goblin-hyung.”

“Hello.”

“You’re Stay’s friend? Nice to meet you. I’m Do Gibong.”

His tone was much more formal now.

To me, it seemed like Do Gibong saw Junhyun as a potential rival.

Meanwhile, Junhyun looked like he was just starstruck seeing a famous composer in front of him.

And fair enough—he didn’t just have one or two hits.

“I’ve really enjoyed your songs. You’re amazing, sunbae-nim.”

“Thanks.”

At this point, a “I liked your singing too” would’ve been the natural response.

But he deliberately kept his answer short.

In moments like this, how I handled things was important.

It was my job as the producer to steer the direction clearly.

First, I’d break the ice a bit.

At times like this, nothing worked better than eating together and slowly opening up.

“We’ve passed mealtime already. Should we eat first? Tonkatsu okay with you guys?”

I said it like I always did, but—

“Again?”

“Again?!”

They shouted in unison and stared at me.

Then they both turned to each other, met eyes, and sighed at the same time, exasperated.

Do Gibong was the first to speak.

“Got anything else? My upper palate’s sensitive. Why’s it always tonkatsu with you?”

Junhyun chimed in.

“He only eats tonkatsu at the cafeteria too.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. There’s even a group at school.”

“A group?”

“The Seo Taeyoon Victims Club.”

What the hell is he saying?

“You liked it too! Huh? Last time you didn’t complain at all! You ate everything!”

“You were paying, so I had to eat it.”

This time, Do Gibong nodded and joined in.

“He’s right.”

This is outrageous.

I clearly, firmly defended myself.

“Okay, then why did you guys always eat so well? You too, Junhyun.”

They clamped their mouths shut.

A moment of silence.

Then Do Gibong scratched his cheek with an awkward smile.

“You just seemed so excited, it felt wrong to say no…”

“Same here. If he gets rejected, he gets kind of sulky.”

Excuse me?

“When did I ever! No, wait—so both of you…”

You mean you didn’t even want to eat it?

That delicious thing…?

Do Gibong spoke seriously.

“I actually like sundae soup. Tonkatsu’s kind of greasy.”

“I prefer pork backbone stew.”

“Backbone’s great.”

“There’s a good, cheap place nearby. Yeonghee’s. You know it?”

“No way. You know Yeonghee’s? Let Taeyoon eat tonkatsu on his own—we’re going to Yeonghee’s. Deal?”

“Oh, totally!”

Clap!

High-fives, dancing—it was chaos.

Do Gibong had even started speaking informally, but Junhyun didn’t mind at all.

Well, that was a relief.

“I like sundae soup too, you know?”

“Alright. We’ll let you join, just this once.”

It had been awkward at first.

But now, eating together felt completely natural.

“What the—this place sells kids’ tonkatsu?”

“Who the heck sells tonkatsu at a hangover stew place?”

“I swear, this guy’s too much…”

Human relationships really weren’t complicated.

Laughing together. Eating together.

And slowly, through that, becoming comfortable.

Let’s keep this vibe going all the way to the recording.