Chapter 149 : The R&B Boom is Coming……!
Chapter 149: The R&B Boom is Coming……!
With a bold DJing break, I calmly—but persistently—stacked up my desire.
A dreamy cut-up continued, as if sweeping over the ears from beginning to end.
I layered Latin rhythms in a cross-pattern over the heavy kicks of trap.
Sluggish hits and a dense atmosphere.
But the melody was different.
It wasn't lavishly decorated.
It preserved the raw sentiment of 90s R&B.
It relied solely on gritty guitar riffs and richly textured vocal tones.
A coarse, clattering texture.
On top of that, an addictive melody drove the track to a dizzying height.
This track wasn’t made for Lumière.
It wasn’t for Lee Jeongin as a vocalist, nor was it crafted for the public.
Yeah. This was a track for me—Blackhole.
A track wrapping my desire in a way only I could present.
That night, sitting alone backstage arranging the song.
The tactile feedback of the EQ knobs resisting my touch, the slight lift of a bass right before the drop—it was enough to make my breath hitch.
This genre that once lazily soaked the streets of the 90s had now become a reference for our parents’ generation.
That made it all the more alluring.
As long as I could translate the emotion of that era properly without pandering to trends.
That was enough.
And my hunch was spot on.
“……It’s done.”
Kim Minsoo quietly opened his mouth.
A short but precise reaction.
No embellishment or exaggeration.
Just a single word that encapsulated complete understanding.
“Tae-yoon.”
He turned his gaze toward me.
“If not you, then who could’ve written a track like this?”
I didn’t answer.
There was no need to.
I could feel a subtle smile creeping onto my lips.
The smile of a victor after a thrilling battle.
This wasn’t music born from planning.
It was a track that began from a deep-rooted desire.
Music I genuinely wanted to create.
The excitement of having realized it exactly as envisioned surged through me.
And this moment—when someone, the very one I most wanted recognition from, had seen it for what it was—truly...
It was electrifying.
I said to Kim Minsoo:
“See? I do listen well, don’t I?”
Kim Minsoo shook his head with a grin.
“Uwoah!”
He suddenly grabbed my hand and shook it wildly, pouring out a stream of admiration.
“The R&B boom is coming……!”
That afternoon.
Those gathered in the KIM Entertainment meeting room exchanged peculiar glances.
If one were to interpret those glances, they said:
We knew our CEO was always a bit off, but he’s on another level today?
What the hell did he pull off this time to walk in looking that grim?
That’s right.
Kim Minsoo had shown up with a serious expression!
Isn’t someone who’s “off” supposed to walk in grinning? Well, half true.
Kim Minsoo’s default was a gentle smile.
Especially in a gathering like today’s—with all board members, A&R staff, and even the involved artist present—he would usually smile even brighter.
His hobby was dropping a massive bombshell while beaming.
Stay… no, it was Stay—spotted working with someone they’d promised not to pester despite knowing exactly who they were.
They’d already met with Lumière.
So what did that mean? This must be a session to evaluate a track.
Everything followed a perfectly logical flow—until...
Normally, even hearing just the “S” of Stay’s name would make Kim Minsoo grin.
So why had he shown up looking so solemn?
Instead of smiling, he entered with heavy steps and slowly scanned the meeting room.
Then he gave a small, silent bow and sat down without a word.
‘What in the world is he about to say?’
‘He’s not the type to act like this……’
‘What kind of track could this be?’
The room filled with unspoken questions.
The most nervous of all was Woo Chaewon, the Content Executive Director.
The only one capable of controlling this ticking time bomb named Kim Minsoo.
But today, even she couldn’t get a read on him.
Woo Chaewon gestured to Yoon Seonghan.
It was a signal—Do you know anything?
But even the ever-reliable Yoon Seonghan simply shrugged. A chill crept down Woo Chaewon’s neck.
‘What the hell is he planning?’
What strange idea had the eccentric CEO cooked up this time?
Just as those thoughts swirled and the meeting was about to begin—
Kim Minsoo, who had been silently sitting, finally spoke.
“We’re all about music, not words, aren’t we?”
Gulp.
The Lumière members swallowed dryly.
Their eyes were filled with anxiety. The youngest, Kim Dabin, squeezed Lee Jeongin’s hand tightly, eyes clenched shut.
To her, R&B was just an old-fashioned genre. How were they supposed to pull this off? Were they going to be okay?
She nervously waited for the track to begin, lost in worry.
Kim Dabin whispered quietly through ventriloquism:
“It’s not a track by Composer Stay, right?”
“No way.”
Lee Jeongin discreetly chewed on her nail.
She wanted it to be R&B, but if it really was, it scared her.
Her heart and head were saying different things.
Tension thickened the air in the meeting room.
“We’ll now listen to the first track. The title is <Not Yet>.”
Finally, the opening synth riff of the first song began to play.
“……!”
Everyone seated snapped their heads up.
A spark lit up their lifeless eyes.
Shoulders sagging with fatigue began to bounce.
This was unlike anything Stay had shown before.
Age, gender, nationality, religion, political stance...
This track didn’t cater to any particular taste.
It was so accessible, it eliminated every possible point of dislike—a flat, neutral song.
It embraced that colorlessness as if it were a virtue.
Then, Director Woo Chaewon asked:
“Don’t tell me the guide… is by Composer Stay?”
“That’s right.”
“A man singing a girl group track. That’s not easy. But he pulled it off.”
Exclamations burst out from all around.
“It’s bouncy and fresh.”
“This will chart the moment it’s released.”
“Dan dan dan~ This one’s a hit for sure.”
“Can’t believe Stay can write a song like this.”
A song that made no one uncomfortable, and everyone could like.
The bright beat and melody that came to mind when you thought of girl group songs.
That was <Not Yet>.
The Lumière members met each other’s eyes one by one.
‘So it wasn’t R&B……!’
That was definitely a sense of relief. Along with it, a subtle thrill.
This was a hit song.
Not just a good one—but one that would sell, stick in memory, and shine unmistakably on stage.
Executive Director Woo Chaewon murmured quietly.
“So trendy.”
Stay had done it again!
A level of control no one could easily imitate.
Relaxed yet pinpoint-accurate chords.
And that delicately calculated emotional line unique to Stay.
“I used to be like that once, too.”
Memories became fluttering excitement.
Tingling.
Should I approach or not? Do they feel the same or not?
The air of that time, the expression he used to wear back then.
I thought it was all in the past.
But here and now, it was vividly brought back to life.
“I love it. Really.”
People often think idol songs go viral thanks to catchy hooks and polished melodies.
Add to that the loud response from massive fandoms.
But that’s just a surface-level observation.
Mega-hits aren’t born from fandom reactions alone.
It’s about the power to bring back those sparkling times.
Even when older folks say things like, “My daughter likes this,” or “So this is what kids listen to these days” when hearing idol music—
The real reason is different.
The fluttering excitement of that era.
Because the song subtly calls back their past selves.
Even if aching joints prevent them from dancing, their bodies instinctively respond to the melody.
Smiling at the cutesy lyrics, cheeks flush in embarrassment—it brings back that feeling.
Something oddly familiar, nostalgic, a little heart-tugging.
This song had that power.
The bashfulness everyone must have felt once.
The expectation they pretended not to have but secretly wanted.
It pinpointed those feelings and pulled them out.
Without shame, without exaggeration.
In a way that was just right for now.
Woo Chaewon smiled in satisfaction.
What if Lumière’s voices were layered onto this song?
And with choreography to match—it’d be absolutely adorable.
As she thought about that—
“Director Woo, why’s your face turning red? Don’t tell me… you were thinking about your dating days with the boss?”
Even at Kim Minsoo’s mischievous joke, Woo Chaewon only gave a coy smile.
The usual sharp reactions were nowhere to be found.
Right now, she just...
Wanted to listen to this song that gently tickled her ears and heart, a little longer.
That’s why Kim Minsoo’s reaction felt all the more strange.
With a song like this, he should be grinning from ear to ear—or falling over laughing.
Woo Chaewon asked bluntly.
“Sir, did something happen today? You look upset.”
Because Kim Minsoo still wore that serious expression.
“Me? Not at all. I’m in a great mood.”
“Then what’s with that face?”
He only shrugged in reply and gave the meeting room a quick glance.
Everyone’s smiles stretched from ear to ear.
Seo Dongyoon chuckled as he discussed the song with the staff.
Lumière’s members were cutely giggling, repeatedly mimicking the chorus.
They weren’t new to this game.
The clear-cut concept would surely cement Lumière as top-tier.
But—
If that had been the end of it, they wouldn’t have reacted like this.
Clap!
Kim Minsoo clapped his hands to refocus the room.
“Alright, shall we listen to the second song?”
Woo Chaewon responded brightly.
“Wow… There’s another one?”
Clearly, he’d brought something even more intense.
Kim Minsoo understood flow.
Stay always surprised people with the unexpected.
And yet it always made sense. That made it all the more terrifying.
If the first track was that good, what could possibly top it?
She straightened her posture.
As if readying herself to listen.
“Let’s begin.”
Click.
Kim Minsoo pressed play and started the second track, <Velvet Trigger>.
Doom—doom doom doom—
Heavy kicks flowed from the speakers.
The atmosphere flipped in an instant.
Silence. It was a kind of warning.
— Velvet trigger……
Stay’s low and dry voice layered over a Latin guitar sliced through the room.
No one could help but lift their heads.
A foreign stimulus naturally drew a physical reaction.
“Huh…”
Just as expected.
They were only now realizing how addictive unfamiliar sensations could be.
As the breakbeat of the intro faded out—
Sharp DJing slashed through like a blade.
An intentional threat, uncompromising.
And then—
“So sexy.”
Someone let the words slip out.
It was the perfect word. This wasn’t a friendly song saying “I love you.”
It had an attitude of “If you want it, come get it.”
A blatant seduction followed immediately.
Only then did Woo Chaewon realize why Kim Minsoo had looked so grim.
This track was far too sensual for cute and pretty girls to sing.
But that sense of distance was the core of the song.
A bold attitude and a sticky melody collided, generating a strange current.
— Burn me slow, velvet rough.
Lyrics spoken like a murmur.
Then came a rush of percussion.
Pleasure just before addiction to sweetness.
“This is insane…”
Lee Jeongin murmured as if swallowing her words.
Exactly. Nothing else came to mind.
Before even debating whether it was good or bad, it just overwhelmed you.
“Huff…”
A heavy, intimate tension clung to her ears and chest.
Even knowing it was just the emotion of the character in the song—she was intoxicated by the intensity.
It took this kind of courage to strip away the idol frame.
The Lumière members stared blankly at the edge of the table, faces flushed.
Last night, they’d been so conservative.
Their view of R&B had been narrow.
They only realized it after hearing this song.
There was a reason behind Stay’s confidence.
Kim Dabin blurted out to Kim Minsoo without thinking.
“Sir, is this… really our song?”
Kim Minsoo responded with a vague smile, not answering directly.
But everyone, lost in the music, didn’t notice the difference.
“So this… this is what real R&B feels like.”
They were only just now realizing it.
Late—but thankfully not too late.
<Velvet Trigger> still offered them a chance.
As long as they had the skill, the attitude, the resolve.
“This isn’t… love, is it?”
Everyone turned their heads at Woo Chaewon’s words.
“Then what is it?”
“Hmm… a hunt?”
It wasn’t a song that confessed love.
Whether to catch or release—
The choice was yours, a provocative challenge.
No avoidance, no excuses allowed.
It just kept asking:
— You keep thinking about me, right? So what now? Go on. Pull the trigger. Gently. Seductively.
And the protagonists of it all were Lumière. Themselves.
The first track was now a faint memory—it had been that powerful.
Which is why—
“…This one’s more attractive.”
“R&B really might trend again.”
“I want a good part in this one.”
The Lumière members found themselves wanting this song.
Even if the one holding the rice cake hadn’t even offered it yet.