Chapter 147 : Vivid Anticipation
Chapter 147: Vivid Anticipation
Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to properly listen to the other member’s songs today.
The reason was simple.
It was because CEO Kim Minsoo hurriedly wrapped things up and dragged Hyung and me outside.
By the time I came to my senses, we were at a barbecue restaurant.
Sitting across from us, CEO Kim Minsoo took off his jacket, loosened his tie.
As if he were the main character in a movie, he tousled his hair and asked me with a serious expression,
“Did you really like R&B since elementary school?”
“……I guess so?”
Kim Minsoo looked at Hyung sitting next to me and asked again,
“Team Leader Seo, what exactly is Taeyoon?”
Hyung shrugged.
Would he take my side?
“I honestly don’t know sometimes.”
……Huh?
“What was he like when he was young?”
“He listened to everything, regardless of genre. If you interrupted his music time, all hell broke loose.”
“Who did he like the most?”
“Michael Jackson.”
What was with these people?
Talking about me, with me sitting right here.
Still, it was kind of intriguing.
It was also interesting to realize Hyung knew me better than I thought.
As he listened, Kim Minsoo smiled and said,
“You really never do what people expect, do you?”
“What were you expecting?”
“Well, of course…”
The story went on for a while.
It wasn’t super exciting, but it was pretty interesting.
From how Lumière was formed, to the decision to go with the “Pure” concept for the first album.
And the reason why they were struggling to choose a concept for the second album.
We had to sit through a good hour of Lumière’s history and stories.
We didn’t forget to chime in at the right moments either.
“Pure, wistful... I can see why you chose those concepts.”
“From the start, we tried to capture the key elements that come to mind when you think of ‘girl group.’”
“It really suits the members too.”
“We built the group around that kind of mood. From styling to the songs. I guess I projected my own taste onto Lumière.”
At that point, I nodded deeply in agreement.
“Same for me. Even if I try to be objective and remind myself this isn’t about my preferences… my heart always says something else.”
“You too, huh, Taeyoon? When I first wrote songs for Lumière…”
I couldn’t cut him off mid-sentence.
He was buying us meat. This much was easy.
Anyway.
CEO Kim Minsoo, who seemed to care for his artists more than he let on, was basically saying:
‘Stay again?’
That summed it up.
Of course, he had expected a typical girl group song. With just a touch of Stay’s unique flavor.
Something refreshing and bright. The kind of song that would get your body swaying just from the opening riff.
So when I brought up R&B, it must’ve seemed completely out of nowhere.
“You must’ve been caught off guard, sir.”
“No. Actually, the opposite. I thought, ‘Yup, that’s Stay.’”
“But girl group songs and R&B are totally different, aren’t they?”
“That’s why it was good. If Stay is bringing R&B, there must be a reason. Right?”
“A reason, huh…”
That question completely disarmed me.
It wasn’t like I brought R&B with some grand reason in mind.
No matter how successful I am as a composer and producer,
I couldn’t have thought as deeply as CEO Kim Minsoo, who planned and built Lumière.
There was only one thing.
I just really liked Lee Jeongin’s voice.
To be honest, I was more drawn to her voice than to the group’s overall balance.
An idol is part of a team, not a solo act, and vocals shouldn’t stand out alone—they should harmonize with others.
I’d felt that acutely while working on Signum.
So why did I keep forgetting?
I guess I got greedy.
I couldn’t help but think that.
“Taeyoon?”
“Ah, sorry.”
“Did I ask something too difficult? I mean, does a song even need a reason? If it clicks, it clicks.”
“That’s true. Still, in idol music, harmony is the most important thing.”
Vocal tone, character, part distribution.
Everything is calculated under the name of the team.
So, of course, Lumière must have been strictly following that formula until now.
No one stood out too much, no one got left behind.
But after hearing Lee Jeongin’s voice, I started to wonder.
Maybe sometimes, it’s okay to break the rules?
Instead of just choosing outfits with balanced colors,
Maybe it’s okay to try something you’ve been dying to put on.
I wasn’t confident.
But the moment I heard Lee Jeongin’s voice, the moment I saw that look in her eyes while singing—
More than just being impressed by her singing, I had this strange urge: wouldn’t it be amazing if I could share this feeling with others?
To be even more honest,
I was marveling at my own song.
In a way I hadn’t even intended.
This really was…
The most dangerous yet mesmerizing moment for a creator.
For once, I wanted to acknowledge and expose that desire inside me.
Of course, I had to make it work within Lumière’s structure.
Not a song just anyone could sing, but a song that wouldn’t exist without this team.
So I said,
“I’ll give it a try. As long as I don’t ignore the teamwork.”
The beat I had made started to stir in my mind.
How should I organize it? How could I make it harmonize well?
As I lifted and lowered the perfectly grilled meat, I was deep in thought.
Then CEO Kim Minsoo asked me,
“What kind of song is it that has you this tangled up?”
“I’ll let you hear it once it’s ready.”
“…Alright, then. I get why you’d be conflicted. But Taeyoon.”
Kim Minsoo downed the beer in front of him in one go and spoke calmly.
“Sometimes it’s okay to ignore the formula.”
“Ugh…!”
Unbelievable.
Sometimes, standing in front of CEO Kim Minsoo felt like being completely exposed.
Like right now.
There were times he saw right through me.
Maybe it showed on my face.
Kim Minsoo chuckled and added as if advising me,
“Base it around Lee Jeongin, but consider harmony within R&B. That’s fine, sounds great even. But still…”
“Yes, go ahead.”
“Sometimes a creator needs to be stubborn. I feel like this might be one of those times.”
“…Sorry?”
“If Stay is being stubborn, there must be a reason. Just push through this time. I’ll take full responsibility.”
Then, he winked lightly and stood up.
That was the end of the conversation.
The sight of CEO Kim Minsoo holding the check and sliding open the door.
As I blankly watched him walk away, Hyung murmured in admiration,
“Damn. That’s cool as hell.”
Uh… yeah. I guess it really was.
* * *
On the way home from work.
To a dazed Seo Dongyoon, I threw a teasing remark.
“You ate all the meat by yourself, didn’t you, Hyung?”
“Well, should I have let it go to waste?”
Seo Dongyoon replied in the same joking tone.
But both of us knew.
That moment just now wasn’t just a meeting.
“Hyung, why didn’t you say anything? You’re the A&R Team Leader.”
“When the CEO and an external composer are having such a serious conversation, what else can a mere team leader like me do but eat meat and give reactions?”
He said it jokingly.
But to Seo Dongyoon, I was no longer just a “younger brother” today.
It was different from when I worked with Tae Sihyun.
Between taste and popularity—
There was a deep struggle evident in my effort to maintain that precarious balance.
Not just desire, but real deliberation.
“I was curious about your opinion.”
“Can I be honest?”
“When have we ever not been honest with each other?”
Seo Dongyoon patted my back and said,
“Not bad at all.”
Even for a pop music composer—
You can’t always write music that sounds like the textbook answer.
Actually, is there even such a thing as a “right answer” in music?
A true hit song is born when the public’s ears and a composer’s stubbornness align in a curious harmony.
This might just be one of those moments.
That’s what Seo Dongyoon suddenly thought.
“What are you talking about?”
I laughed in disbelief, but couldn’t quite hide the pride in my voice.
And at that moment, Dongyoon became certain.
That this time, something real might come out of it.
I exhaled lightly and said,
“I’m gonna stop by Backstage. I won’t be able to sleep unless I wrap things up.”
Seo Dongyoon silently nodded.
Then he patted my shoulder once more and said,
“Trust your instincts. Just like you always have.”
The next morning.
The Lumière members sat around the dining table at their dorm.
Was it the undressed chicken breast salad?
Or maybe the lukewarm way last night’s meeting ended?
They all had dark circles under their eyes.
Leader Lee Jeongin cautiously opened her mouth as she chewed on some greens.
“Did you think about it?”
“What? The R&B incident?”
“Yeah.”
The R&B incident.
Among the members, that’s what they’d started calling what happened yesterday.
That’s how weighty it was.
To some, it was a gamble. To others, a deviation.
Only leader Lee Jeongin faintly entertained the thought, ‘Maybe this could be a turning point in our career.’
But the atmosphere was cold.
Usually, if leader Lee Jeongin said anything, the rest would chirp back like baby birds, “Right. Totally. Of course.”
But this time, no one could easily open their mouth.
Working with Stay? That was, of course, exciting.
Other singers who released songs by Stay were constantly the talk of the town.
Winning 1st on music shows, selling albums well—
But that wasn’t the real issue.
Stay’s songs themselves became trends, even a culture of their own.
Just look at Doubline.
There were already rumors that many entertainment companies were gearing up to debut male duos.
Tae Sihyun’s song had become a verification piece for singers and influencers who could actually sing, and because of Signum and UTAR’s influence, rookie band idols were still debuting to this day.
Stay was that kind of producer.
“I thought we could be like that too.”
“Yeah… He always has that one killer track.”
“What did Manager Unnie say?”
“She said it’d be hard to pull off.”
But that damn R&B was the problem.
It was a genre unfamiliar to them.
Not a color they could easily carry as idols.
The concept idols must present is clear-cut.
They stand on stage dressed in a defined concept.
The image expected by the public, the look demanded by fans.
The moment they stray from that formula, their identity begins to shake.
And the price comes swiftly.
Rejection, withdrawal, silence.
There was no way CEO Kim Minsoo didn’t know that.
But KIM Entertainment had always adhered strictly to an “artist-centered” production approach.
They respected the members’ choices, but the responsibility for those choices also belonged to the members.
The youngest cautiously opened her mouth.
“Unnie.”
“Yeah?”
Lee Jeongin lifted her head.
The youngest stared quietly at the floor and spoke.
“To be honest… I’m kind of scared.”
She was only eighteen.
For them, the freedom of choice given by KIM Entertainment was both a hope and a burden.
“I don’t even know if I’m allowed to give my opinion on something like this.”
Jeongin silently nodded.
This wasn’t a concern unique to the youngest.
Respect and responsibility always came hand in hand.
Being allowed to choose meant carrying the weight of the outcome.
Voicing an opinion and being confident in that opinion were entirely different matters.
“What do you want to do?”
The youngest hesitated for a long time before answering.
“To be honest… I’m not confident.”
“R&B?”
“Yeah… Honestly, I’ve barely even heard any. That song you sang on the radio once, Jeongin-unni. What was it again?”
“‘Call on Me’?”
“Yeah, that was my first R&B.”
Lee Jeongin pressed her lips tightly together.
That comment sounded a little sad.
It was only now sinking in—these girls who had so diligently walked the path of idols were, in fact, strangers to music itself.
“……Don’t tell me, you guys too?”
Flinch.
As suspicious glances darted about,
three heads began nodding up and down in unison.
“Ah……”
It was a reaction she had anticipated, but hearing it out loud sent a chill down her spine.
“Nowadays I barely even listen to the Maron Chart.”
“Same here.”
Even though music was their profession, they had no time to listen to music.
Their daily lives revolved around memorizing, adjusting, following along.
Stepping outside of the familiar was immediately unsettling.
“Still……”
Everyone turned toward the voice that sounded so young.
It was the youngest again—who had been more anxious than anyone else.
“Because it’s Stay… there must be something, right?”
Because it’s Stay. With that one line,
the members, who had been growing colder and colder, gradually began to regain warmth.
That’s right. It’s Stay, after all.
That name was strong enough to suppress any clumsy anxiety.
“Let’s listen to it first, then decide.”
“Right. We can decide after we hear it. It’s Stay, after all.”
Someone said with a smile,
“Honestly, aren’t you kind of excited too?”
“Totally.”
The air above the table had clearly shifted.
What pushed away the anxiety was undoubtedly a vivid sense of anticipation.