Chapter 137 : Anyway, He’s an Idol
Chapter 137: Anyway, He’s an Idol
Word travels fast on social media.
Especially when a track like Crossing Tomorrow by Double Line drops — something enticing to listeners.
They were always thirsting for new music.
In a flood of indistinguishable dance songs...
Something that crossed generations—
No, a classic band ballad that might even feel a little old-fashioned—was more than enough to draw attention.
The rapidly growing number of short-form videos proved it.
“These covers are insane.”
“It’s blowing up like this?”
“People watch short-form clips more than albums these days.”
Music YouTubers chasing views.
Veteran singers with countless hits under their belts.
Actors dreaming of image transformations—
All uploaded videos showing off their vocal skills with Crossing Tomorrow.
[Power Rookie! Double Line – Crossing Tomorrow Cover (Piano ver.)]
[Who Sang Crossing Tomorrow the Best?]
[Double Line – Crossing Tomorrow: Gayageum Cover]
[Crossing Tomorrow cover – Signum (Original: Double Line)]
“Wow, even Signum covered it.”
“You think it’s just Signum?”
Naturally, clickbait content followed too.
Double Line, Crossing Tomorrow—
A cheap trick to game the social media algorithm.
[Crossing Tomorrow was too low, so I raised it 2 keys! cover]
[Cover of Crossing Tomorrow better than the original]
But no matter how much they rode the popularity wave for attention—
They couldn’t fool the picky ears of real listeners.
↳ They’re forcing it. What’s so good about this lolol
↳ This song’s sneakily tough... Only Baek Junhyun can pull this off.
↳ For real. If you sing it wrong, it kills the vibe.
↳ Like come on, it’s supposed to be hopeful. Why are you singing it like a funeral song?
↳↳ The mellow tone is the charm, but raising the key makes it sound tacky...
Even now, it was getting this much attention.
Once they performed their debut stage, it was sure to get even bigger.
“Nice, nice.”
Taeyoon’s lips slowly curled as he scrolled through the YouTube videos.
As a producer—and before that, as Junhyun’s friend and Gibong’s junior—
It was certainly something to be pleased about, seeing everything fall into place so smoothly.
“Let’s take a 30-minute break and reconvene!”
During the short break—
While everyone stepped away, Taeyoon sat alone at the engineer’s desk, and suddenly had a thought.
‘…This looks really fun.’
So this was why cover videos were so fun. Even celebrities were uploading their own.
Seeing people one after another cover Crossing Tomorrow like it was the new trend—it made him feel proud, but also a little envious.
Come to think of it, he hadn’t properly sung the song himself.
Even the Cheongseong members in the session loved it this much. Found it this fun.
Maybe… it’d be fun if I tried singing it too?
With that thought, he stood up.
He tiptoed and peeked into the recording booth.
Just one look inside made the hesitation disappear.
Let’s knock this out quick before break ends.
He switched his smartphone to recording mode.
Turned on the MR track and quickly moved to the recording booth.
No one was watching.
But just standing in the booth made his heart pound.
He flipped on his headphones.
Nodded slightly to the soft intro—
Then carefully tried imitating Baek Junhyun and Do Gibong’s emotions.
Damn, this is fun.
No one to worry about. No thoughts to distract him.
With eyes closed, he followed the flow of the music, and before he knew it, four minutes had passed.
The song ended.
And just as Taeyoon opened his eyes, satisfied—
“AAAAAAAHHHH!!”
He made eye contact with everyone staring at him through the engineer room glass.
What? They had 30 minutes! Why were they already back?
What should he do? Did they see it all?
He tried to act as casual as possible as he returned to the engineer room.
“Haha… why is everyone back so early…”
He was trying to spark up small talk naturally—
But Cheongseong members, Do Gibong, Baek Junhyun, and even the engineers just stood there silently—
“Wooooooow!”
“Daaamn—!”
“That’s crazy.”
They finally let out their held-back amazement.
The most shocked of all was Baek Junhyun.
“Seo Taeyoon, why aren’t you a singer? Were you holding back on purpose at karaoke?”
Do Gibong chimed in jokingly.
“This won’t do. Let’s go trio. Too good to waste this talent! Seo Taeyoon taking over Double Line! We needed a golden center anyway. He’s perfect.”
“…What, am I an idol now? Center, seriously?”
Of course, everyone knew it was a joke.
Moon Jungbae, who had been standing nearby, even threw out a proper plan.
“Hey, Taeyoon. How about uploading that for promotion?”
“Huh? Promotion?”
“Posting the whole thing is too predictable. Just upload a highlight.”
“What about my face in the video?”
“Whatever. Kim Minsoo will handle it. As the CEO, huh? Supporting his artist’s producer, huh? Surely he can manage that, no?”
“Yeah, yeah. He’ll edit it no problem.”
“It’d be great for promotion, really.”
“Let’s send it now. Where’s Kim Minsoo’s number…”
The responses hinted things were about to move full speed ahead unintentionally.
Taeyoon quickly stepped in.
“Wait! Just wait a sec!”
He had sung it with effort.
These days, a composer covering their own song often boosted the original singer’s popularity—
But he didn’t want to draw deep attention to himself.
He always said it: Double Line had to be the main characters.
After thinking hard, Taeyoon snapped his fingers and said,
“Then let’s do it like this. Only release the bridge section.”
“Huh? That’s the part we sing together. Wouldn’t it be hard?”
Right. It was the highlight of the song—the part where past and present connected.
Even so, Taeyoon insisted on releasing the bridge section.
“The solo sections carry each singer’s unique emotions. If we share those, it might water down what Junhyun and Gibong-hyung conveyed. But if we share the bridge, where it’s sung in duet but covered solo—it might actually make people more curious about the original.”
Everyone nodded in agreement at Taeyoon’s reasoning.
Taeyoon nailed it home.
“We’re just acting as a bridge to make people curious about the original. That’s what the bridge section is for, right? It’s perfect.”
One of the engineers, listening in, also agreed and wrapped it up.
“Then let’s skip the polishing and just edit it naturally. If we mix it too much, it’ll sound fake. Too polished for a cover is kind of a turnoff. Taeyoon, you good with that?”
Taeyoon raised his right hand.
The engineer’s hand clapped against his with a light smack.
As the producer of Double Line—
Kim Minsoo would sometimes say things like this:
“Taeyoon, why didn’t you just name the group ‘Reverse’?”
It probably wasn’t just a random remark.
Back then, Kim Minsoo’s face was practically screaming, “If I hold it in any longer, I’m going to lose my mind.”
He must have held back for days, dying to say it.
"Ha, haha."
At that question, I scratched my cheek with a small smile.
Because, literally speaking, reverse—
Double Line had flipped the whole process on its head.
Put simply, we ignored the order.
Starting with member recruitment.
We didn’t pick members and then give them songs—
We brought them in by tossing them straight into recording and asking for an album.
Everything else followed a similar pattern.
What especially made Kim Minsoo balk was the debut stage.
Instead of a typical music show, we had something a bit more special planned.
“Hongdae busking? …Isn’t that something you do after getting some popularity first?”
I lowered my head on purpose as I answered.
“Aah. You still don’t trust us, huh… I see……”
“Didn’t I tell you not to make that face? When you look all dejected like that, I feel like… I’ve committed some huge sin.”
“That’s exactly why we released the MV and album ahead of time—to build some awareness. Ah, I’m looking forward to it.”
“Well, that’s true.”
A week after the music video dropped, the digital single was released.
At cafes, at mobile phone stores, at clothing shops—
Double Line’s song played here and there.
They beat out top-tier idol tracks and captured the public’s ears.
That success soon translated into the charts.
[Real-Time Maron Chart]
.
.
9. <Crossing Tomorrow> – Double Line (▲2)
.
.
They didn’t rip apart other idols or smash the charts in a blaze.
It was calm. Quiet.
Climbing up gradually through word of mouth.
(Open Comments)
↳ Total digital monster. Keeps climbing ㄷㄷ
↳ It’s scarier when they’re quietly rising like this.
↳ I reinstalled Maron just to listen to this.
↳ The emotion is insane. Quietly makes you cry……
↳ When are they coming on music shows? When’s the debut stage ㅠㅠ
“They’ll break into the top 5 soon.”
“Oh, right, Taeyoon. The first-week album sales are out. Want to guess?”
“Hmm…”
First-week sales are another crucial indicator of a singer’s trajectory, along with chart rankings.
These days, top-tier idols hit over a million. Well-known ones go over 500k. Anticipated rookies or solo debuts from idol backgrounds aim for 300k.
And a rookie ballad singer?
Even hitting 100k would be considered a miracle.
Aside from my affection for Double Line—
I was a pretty objective person.
So I answered honestly.
“…Maybe… 100k?”
Honestly, even that was a generous estimate.
If I were being blunt, I’d only end up disappointing them.
It’s like when someone asks, “How old do I look?” and you think they look about forty,
but say, “Mid-thirties,” to be nice.
I glanced at Kim Minsoo’s expression.
He was smiling. That was enough. I waited for his response, thinking that.
“We hit 300k.”
I blinked slowly, staring at Kim Minsoo.
What, was he dreaming?
“Not your wish. I meant the actual sales.”
“You don’t believe me? Exactly 324,000…”
I stared blankly as he rattled off the number in a wounded tone.
The day I first stood Junhyun in front of a mic.
The day I played emotional chess with Do Gibong over vocal parts.
The days we scrambled, preparing music videos and stage compositions.
All of it felt like it had just been paid back in full with that one number.
“…Seriously? Isn’t that like, top idol solo album level?”
“Exactly. He is an idol, isn’t he?”
“Huh? Who’s the idol…”
“Gibong was an idol. Anyway, idol.”
“Ah…”
So that’s how we’re framing it now.
And I ended up convinced.
“That’s Seo Taeyoon for you. You’re not even surprised. Tch… There’s chaos right now—calls are coming in from everywhere.”
“I see.”
I tried to stay nonchalant.
But I randomly took a sip of water, fiddled with my headphones, bombed Hyung with emojis.
That little private celebration?
It’s a secret.
Double Line’s debut stage was just one day away.
It felt less frantic than a music show taping.
Though, apparently, CEO Kim Minsoo had been hounded by all the music broadcast stations.
Asking why they weren’t coming on their programs.
“PD Chun Hanyeong was the most disappointed, I heard.”
“Ah, that makes sense.”
I knew she had been especially supportive during the UTAR days.
I had received a lot of help too.
“So we scheduled our first music show appearance with her. What do you think?”
“Sounds good.”
“Since it’s outdoors, the stage setup will be like this. The Cheongseong hyungs were super excited. Said it’s been a while since they’ve done a live show outside.”
The debut stage was none other than at Hongdae’s Blue Road.
The heart of Double Line’s marketing was organic buzz.
They aimed for the audience to post on SNS and upload clips to YouTube.
There’d be a main camera, of course—
But it couldn’t fully capture the raw cheers and real-time crowd reactions caught on clunky phone cameras.
As I checked final prep and headed home, Kim Minsoo stopped me briefly.
“Taeyoon, you don’t have a Sierra gig today, right?”
“Nope. Planning to head home early and rest.”
“Take this with you.”
“Ah, thank you. I actually needed a sugar boost.”
I didn’t even need to open it.
That luxury chocolate brand logo stamped on the shopping bag—
After finding out I had a sweet tooth, he’d occasionally buy me chocolates like this.
“I’ll get going then.”
“Yep, I’ll come pick you up tomorrow.”
All prepped and ready, I stepped out of KIM Entertainment—
And spotted a middle-aged woman and man who looked like a couple lingering near the front gate.
Something about them felt…
Huh? Do I know them?
Their silhouette was oddly familiar.
Didn’t look like fans. Who were they?
As I approached, thinking that—
“Gasp! Hello.”
The greeting came out before I could stop it.
I definitely didn’t know them, but I knew them.
Why did I think that?
“You’re Junhyun’s parents… aren’t you?”
Even to my eyes—eyes so bad they might as well be useless—
Their faces looked like they’d been printed out of the same cast.