Chapter 131 : Interest in ‘Composers’
Chapter 131: Interest in ‘Composers’
If it couldn’t be solved with money?
Then he would simply spend more.
Kim Minsoo personally proved that truth.
He poured in money like a waterfall.
The portals, SNS, and online communities were all filled with stories about Stay and Busan Goblin.
Did people not know the composer?
Then he would just keep showing him.
The goal was simple.
To make sure there wasn’t a single person left who didn’t know Stay and Double Line.
The first step was to draw in as much attention as possible.
[ Hit Composer ‘Busan Goblin’ Turns Balladeer? ]
[ Stay X Busan Goblin — The Collaboration of the Century ]
[ ‘Same Melody, Different Beat?’ The Story of a Dance Song Turned Ballad ]
[ What’s in the Arrangement? A Look Back at Stay’s <Crossing Tomorrow> Original Version ]
[ Busan Goblin Exclusive Interview: “Genius? You Mean Stay, Right?” ]
[ Double Line, Rare Male Duo to Shake the Music Industry? ]
Listening to a song to find the composer behind it—
that had once been something only hardcore music fans did.
But this ‘Stay X Busan Goblin’ collaboration album brought a small shift to the world of popular music.
Even the general public now began to take interest not only in singers but in composers.
“Hm?”
So this is how it turned out?
Taeyoon watched the situation unfold with interest.
[ Busan Goblin……. Stay……. Ballad……. Is this for real? ]
↳ Doesn’t Busan Goblin only churn out those mass-produced hook songs? What’s with the sudden ballad?
↳↳ fr lol not everyone can pull off a ballad.
↳ Thought he used to be a singer though.
↳↳ Yeah, a failed idol.
↳↳↳ So basically washed up.
↳ Washed up? lol you have to be famous first to even be called that. He was just a nobody hahaha.
↳ I’m actually looking forward to it. Whatever he does, he does it well.
↳ More than that, I’m curious since Stay did the arrangement. His beats are insane.
↳↳ Dude, even if he’s good at beats, ballads are a whole different emotion, you know?
↳ Stay and Busan Goblin have totally different styles—wonder how they’ll pull this off……
↳ Sigh, y’all music illiterates. If it’s Stay, just listen. smh.
↳↳ Exactly…… just search STaY on Maron, it’s all there. Why hate for no reason lol;;;
While Taeyoon was absorbed in the comments,
Kim Minsoo spoke in a weighty tone.
“It’s successful.”
“This? Really?”
Taeyoon tilted his head.
The threads were on fire.
People were arguing endlessly, trying to prove who was right.
“Look closer.”
“Oh……? Ah? Hm?”
After thoroughly reading through the articles and comments,
Taeyoon faintly caught on to Kim Minsoo’s intention.
“Wait, you mean you stirred up the controversy on purpose?”
“Exactly.”
“So it’s like—‘What kind of song could cause this chaos? I should listen myself’—that kind of strategy?”
“That’s right. Our Taeyoon always gets it after hearing just one hint.”
It certainly became a hot topic.
Not only was Stay popular, but Busan Goblin was a star composer who often appeared on variety shows and YouTube.
Viewers who remembered his quirky personality would think, “What? That Busan Goblin who only makes clunky idol tracks is doing a ballad?!”
That alone would spark curiosity.
Consistency in one’s character was good, but—
sometimes, showing an unexpected side could be even more captivating.
“Taeyoon, which song are you most attached to?”
“Of course, the title track.”
What?
Kim Minsoo looked at him in surprise.
To be most attached to an arranged song?
He was curious why a composer could say such a thing with such an innocent face.
“……Why? You didn’t expect that?”
“What part surprises you?”
“Because it’s an arrangement?”
“I guess you could see it that way. But arranging’s fun in its own way, you know?”
“Huh, wait a second.”
Come to think of it, Taeyoon had been a DJ before he was a composer.
Even though he had showcased <Lunatic Beat>, he’d spent more than a year before that breaking down and reassembling other people’s songs.
So it was only natural that he had no bias.
He was different from someone who started as a pure creator.
“Yeah, DJs do approach it differently……”
“Not necessarily.”
Then Taeyoon began to speak about what he really wanted to say—
something he hadn’t told anyone, and somehow felt a bit shy about.
“Finding the hidden intent of a composer in a song—that’s what’s fun for me. But up until now…… I never got a clear answer.”
“Ah……!”
Kim Minsoo let out a low exclamation.
What a foolish question he’d asked.
He realized Taeyoon was far more serious about music than he had thought.
But Taeyoon wasn’t done yet.
“So far, I’ve only been guessing. I can’t exactly go ask foreign musicians if that’s how they felt when they wrote their songs, and the older composers who made those classics are already gone. So I’d interpret them however I wanted, sometimes worrying—‘What if I’m wrong? What if I’m ruining a masterpiece with my careless remix…….’”
Kim Minsoo listened, spellbound.
“It was the first time I’d ever confirmed a composer’s true intent—the emotion that Gibong-hyung had hidden in his song, I found it, and when he said I was right…… I almost screamed. If we hadn’t been in such an expensive restaurant, I really might have.”
Taeyoon grinned sheepishly.
Kim Minsoo just nodded.
He didn’t want to break the flow.
Any word would have been unnecessary here.
This was less of a conversation and more like an affirmation—a vow.
“I realized I hadn’t been wasting my time. All that studying with you, interpreting the stories behind the songs—it wasn’t meaningless. I’m really connecting with other composers…… in a way that’s different.”
Kim Minsoo silently gazed at Taeyoon’s face.
‘……So that’s how he interprets it.’
It was like being possessed by a spirit.
The word arrangement—something so ordinary—he had redefined as communion with another musician.
He himself had once longed for someone to dissect and truly understand his own songs.
But no composer, no listener,
ever really delved into the creator’s true heart hidden beneath the melody.
No—more precisely,
no one ever cared to.
An unexpected wave of emotion washed over him.
“Ah, forget what I just said. That was too much, wasn’t it?”
At the center of that emotion stood Taeyoon.
He had thought of him merely as a DJ who read songs well, a composer who wrote songs well.
But now, Taeyoon looked a little different.
He began to believe that this young man could someday lead the entire field of popular music.
At the same time, he felt the tension of needing to stay alert, to read the ever-shifting landscape of this jungle-like industry.
And also—
a faint, foolish hope that maybe someday someone would listen to his own songs that way.
Even though he wasn’t a shaman,
this guy could see straight through people.
So, in conclusion—
“You beautiful bastard.”
That was all I could say.
Kim Minsoo briefly recalled a day from the past.
The day Taeyoon came for his interview.
Thinking back now,
having someone like him join Sierra might have been the luckiest thing to happen in his life.
‘He really was different from the start.’
To put it simply—
he looked a little rustic.
Maybe it was because of his hair, still grown out carelessly like a soldier fresh from discharge.
Or maybe it was that out-of-date field jacket he’d thrown on because someone told him to dress comfortably.
Whatever the reason, one thing was certain—he was nothing like the others.
Club DJ.
Exactly as it sounded.
Every applicant who came for interviews looked the same.
A bit flashy, showing off their individuality with tattoos and piercings, dressed in designer clothes—real or fake, who could tell.
But Taeyoon proved himself differently.
Confidence.
Yes, he had that.
— “This is a track I mixed myself.”
He didn’t watch for Kim Minsoo’s reaction, nor did he try to elicit one.
He simply played his music, calm and composed.
And without even being asked, he began introducing his mix.
— “The fewer kicks you use, the clearer the emotion becomes. I kept that in mind while arranging.”
— “Instead of layering a lo-fi pulse bass, it sounds better to start by refining the emotional tone itself.”
— “In the end, both beats and vocals are a DJ’s battle. You have to touch the listener’s sense of time, that emotional flow.”
That was the moment Kim Minsoo became certain.
He’d finally found what he had been searching for all along—a genuine, hardcore music maniac.
And Taeyoon didn’t forget to add:
— “A good DJ should eventually be able to present their own tracks. I also want to play my own music someday, not just arrangements. Of course, if you decide to hire me.”
When he said that and smiled faintly,
a strange thrill welled up inside.
Seo Taeyoon.
Perhaps this was the very person who could help turn this business—mocked as a clown’s act—into one respected and recognized.
That was what Kim Minsoo had thought back then.
“……CEO?”
“Oh, sorry.”
Taeyoon’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
“Where were we?”
“You didn’t say anything yet. You weren’t dozing off with your eyes open, were you?”
The Double Line album project was progressing smoothly.
And with rumors spreading that he was working with Composer Stay again, the industry’s eyes were on them.
He couldn’t just sit idle.
He wanted to give him something helpful—something meaningful.
But nothing came to mind.
The studio had already been outfitted backstage with the latest, top-tier equipment.
And the kid had no interest in material things.
After some thought, he decided to just ask directly.
“Taeyoon. Is there anything you need?”
“My hyung told me to pick up some eggs and stew ingredients on my way home……”
……Sometimes he really was just a typical clueless twenty-something.
“No, not that. I mean, something you want from me.”
His face remained as expressionless as ever.
Kim Minsoo half-expected the usual “Nothing comes to mind” response—
but this time,
“Anything’s possible?”
he asked in an unusually steady tone.
“……Yeah. Of course.”
For some reason, Kim Minsoo felt a sense of anticipation.
What could Taeyoon possibly want?
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”
“Ah, it’s not healthy to keep stuff bottled up. Come on, let’s hear it.”
Was it about a car? A house? What could it be?
If it was something like that, it’d be easy to handle.
So what was it?
Taeyoon looked straight at Kim Minsoo and spoke his wish.
“Please create a company.”
“……Huh? A company?”
“Yes, a company.”
“You mean, like, start a label?”
“Uh, no. Not exactly.”
Taeyoon scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
“A publishing company where composers can comfortably trust and leave their songs. I haven’t seen a place like that yet. But for some reason, I feel like CEO Kim Minsoo could build one. That way, I could work with not just K-pop but in other diverse fields too.”
Kim Minsoo was stunned.
“CEO?”
“Uh, yeah. A company sounds great. Sure. I’ll think about it.”
……Maybe that wasn’t the answer he hoped for?
He had wanted to finally settle somewhere.
But hearing no clear answer, Taeyoon went home feeling a bit deflated.
After Taeyoon left,
Kim Minsoo urgently called Yoon Seonghan.
— “Seonghan, you’d better get over here fast.”
“I’m home right now.”
— “This is serious. Actually, I’ll come to your place. Just step outside.”
“Geez, fine. But if this turns out to be nonsense again, I’m really gonna be mad.”
Yoon Seonghan, who had been relaxing at home listening to music, was suddenly summoned to the chicken restaurant near his house.
“What’s going on?”
“Did you tell him?”
“Tell who what?”
“That we’re preparing a publishing company.”
“……Who would I tell that to?”
“Then how does Taeyoon know?”
“……?”
“……?”
That’s right.
Kim Minsoo was already preparing to launch a composer-focused label and publishing company called Track Race.
“What the heck? Did someone leak it?”
“What leak? You should’ve seen Taeyoon’s face just now. I swear, it was like he was psychic! How does he know we’re starting a publishing company?”
“Ha ha. Must’ve been a lucky guess. But you really called me out at midnight for that?”
“No.”
The answer’s already decided—you just have to agree.
“Now that it’s come to this, let’s make it public. We’re almost finished anyway, right? Let’s start hiring staff. I’ve made up my mind. Those wandering composers—I’ll take proper care of them.”
Lack of money? Lack of resolve?
Neither applied to Kim Minsoo.
When it came to Taeyoon, he was a man who really did what he said.