Chapter 162 : I Don’t Expect Much
Chapter 162: I Don’t Expect Much
Without realizing it.
Kim Jinsoo had already replayed Stay’s DJ version demo more than ten times.
It was clearly the same song.
Only a bit of DJing had slipped in.
Just a little, like seasoning.
If the original <First Spark> had been an orchestra gracefully resonating through an art hall, the DJ version felt more like a jazz session at a rooftop bar.
It was as if I could hear the rough sound of a saxophone flowing alongside the city night view as an appetizer.
The sound was the same, yet the scenery and emotion flowed differently.
It wasn’t a simple matter of which was better.
Within the same melody, it expressed two hidden hearts in completely different ways.
“This is really…”
It was strange indeed.
The arrangement broke down both logic and prejudice.
‘Was DJing… something like this?’
The DJing that Kim Jinsoo had imagined was nothing like this.
No, anyone from his generation would probably feel the same.
He briefly recalled clubs and DJs.
Boom boom boom—the sudden pounding of drums echoed in his head.
A faint whiff of cigarette smoke brushed the tip of his nose.
A shot glass of tequila rimmed with salt.
Fluorescent sticks dazzling the eyes.
And among them, a DJ with a cynical expression selecting tracks while looking down at the drunken crowd.
Somehow flashy, yet a bit stylish.
Even though large-scale DJ festivals were held every year, and collaborations with famous pop stars were as common as daily meals—
In Korea, it was still an underground culture, buried deep within the underground.
But then… why—
‘Why doesn’t this feel minor at all?’
Like someone wearing a tailored suit with New Balance sneakers.
Like a rapper casually blending into an orchestration.
It was out of place, yet strangely well-matched.
Before he knew it—
He found himself tapping the beat with his toe and nodding along to the rhythm.
It was a song he wanted to keep listening to.
‘But…’
While he was lost in the feeling.
His objective, conservative self whispered from within.
‘Are you sure it’s not just you?’
The words pricked his heart.
In truth, “DJ” and “club” were uncomfortable words for Kim Jinsoo.
Club Sierra.
When KW Group was investigated for its so-called “favoritism toward affiliated businesses,” he was dragged into a tax audit along with them.
In that process, one small club being destroyed was nothing.
Yet Kim Minsoo had boldly pushed forward by changing the representative and kept the club running.
That DJ Blackhole or whatever—he had taken along that masked DJ.
And now.
The songs created with that DJ were achieving unexpected success.
A track from Lumière’s album.
Not even the title track, yet they had mixed in some DJing.
The genre: R&B.
A fading genre, featuring an anonymous DJ.
And yet the result?
A record-breaking hit.
“Haa…”
He didn’t know much about the music industry, but it was undeniable that this was making waves.
He had tried to judge it objectively.
But the more he thought about it, the more strongly he was drawn to it.
His businessman’s instincts told him—
This was a winning hand.
The timing was perfect—neither too late nor too early.
But… how?
He couldn’t use the DJ version as the campaign’s main theme.
However—
For the first time, he had found a song he truly wanted to share with someone.
He wanted to enjoy that alluring DJing laid over the elegant melody together.
No, to be honest…
It made him feel young again.
Maybe this was the kind of sentiment that the “kids these days” felt—something he’d always wanted to understand but never quite reached.
He felt foolishly happy thinking he might finally be someone who could share in that feeling.
‘If that’s the case…’
Even if the directors, who would clutch their chests at the mere mention of “DJ,” would explode in outrage—
Even if they shouted that “music kids listen to” had no place in luxury—
It wouldn’t be hard to persuade them.
But before that—
There was one thing he needed to confirm.
Kim Jinsoo called his secretary.
“What’s my schedule today?”
“There’s a luncheon meeting with the group executives.”
“Ah, cancel that.”
“…Sir?”
The secretary blinked in surprise.
“There’s something more important. It has to be now. Absolutely now.”
It was just six hours before the selection of the Almond Young campaign’s main theme.
The busy Lumière Project had finally ended.
As I spent my days soothing my emptiness by performing at Sierra,
Today, before the show, I stopped by KIM Entertainment to meet some familiar faces.
It had been a while since I last saw Junhyun and Gibong-hyung.
After catching up on each other’s recent lives, the conversation inevitably drifted to lunch.
“How about meat?”
“Sounds good.”
As always, the conclusion was that meat was the answer.
CEO Kim Minsoo, who had been studying my face closely, asked,
“You’re not tired?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“I saw you increased your show dates. You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. There’s just… a lot I want to show these days.”
Then Gibong-hyung, who had been sitting beside us munching on snacks, suddenly cut in.
“You know, you’re kind of weird.”
“What do you mean?”
“You seem super introverted, right? But then again, you’re more of an attention-seeker than anyone.”
I just laughed.
Attention-seeker, huh…
It wasn’t an unpleasant label.
Because it was true.
Having someone cheer at my performance, enjoying my music—that was something that genuinely made me happy.
But I couldn’t just say that outright.
Gibong-hyung always burst out laughing no matter what I said.
So I simply replied,
“It’s fun. Don’t you think so too, hyung?”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m actually really shy, but when I go on variety shows and stuff—it’s fun, you know?”
Someone who claimed to be shy yet had lunch with a dozen people.
And went to PC cafés with other singers’ stylists?
…Yeah, I decided not to say that aloud.
Maybe his definition of “shy” was just different from mine.
“Ah, guess I’ll go work now.”
Before I knew it, he had already demolished two bags of snacks and was getting up.
As soon as Gibong-hyung left, CEO Kim Minsoo turned to me with a slightly more serious expression.
“Taeyoon, how are you so close with Dongyoon?”
“Me? I’m not close with him.”
“…You’re not? Then it’d be dangerous if you did get close.”
“Don’t most people get along like this with their brothers?”
“No?”
Why did he have to look so serious all of a sudden?
“When you get older, you don’t. You’re lucky if you just check that each other’s alive.”
“Why?”
“Well… who knows why?”
Kim Minsoo thought for a moment, then spoke solemnly.
“No matter how much I think about it, I still don’t know.”
At that point, I started to think about what it even meant to be “close.”
I asked myself a question.
What did it mean to be close with my brother?
The answer was simple.
Well, I don’t know either?
I really didn’t know.
Was there even such a thing as being “close” or “not close” with family? They weren’t friends.
I’d never really thought about it.
We’d just been too familiar since childhood.
That comfort sometimes felt a bit annoying.
And sometimes, it dulled into something I took for granted.
But one thing was certain.
Because there was never any real comparison, I’d never given it deep thought.
The person I’d known the longest since birth—family.
Especially my brother.
The person I’d fought the most and made up with the most.
Now, I could tell what he was thinking just by looking at his face.
When he came home, I could guess his mood just from the sound of the door lock beeping.
When he greeted me after work, I could predict what kind of day he’d had.
That was my brother.
A strange relationship where comfort and fatigue coexisted.
Maybe that was why, without realizing it, I asked this question.
“What does it even mean to be close?”
Kim Minsoo answered right away.
“It’s when you can say ‘let’s grab a meal’ anytime without even thinking about it.”
“Then I really don’t understand.”
“Why?”
“I eat with my brother every day. Or, if not every day, whenever we’re home together. Eating’s no big deal.”
“Right, it’s no big deal. No big deal, but… why is it so hard, huh.”
Why was he suddenly staring off into space with such a wistful look?
And honestly, I didn’t understand why eating with one’s brother could be something to struggle over.
“But why did you suddenly ask that?”
“Well, just as I said. I was wondering how you and Dongyoon could be so close. No, maybe the word ‘close’ isn’t even right. I was just curious—how do you two get along so well?”
Come to think of it, since we’d gotten older, we hadn’t fought much.
No matter what happened, he was the one person who’d always take my side without question. That was my brother.
Was it not the same for CEO Kim Minsoo?
That, I couldn’t say.
Anyway, it was true that I got along well with my brother.
These days, I relied on him even more than on Mom or Dad.
But why I was close with him—honestly, I’d never thought about it.
“…I don’t know either.”
“I see.”
By now, that seemed like a good place to end the conversation.
But CEO Kim Minsoo persistently continued.
“Then let me ask you this instead. What kind of feeling do you have toward your brother?”
“What kind… of feeling?”
This was getting more complicated by the minute.
What kind of feeling did I have toward my brother… was there such a thing?
So I told him honestly.
“I don’t really have one.”
“You don’t have one?”
“Yes. I don’t have any emotion that can be defined by some specific word. How should I put it…”
“…No expectations?”
“Oh, yeah! That’s it.”
What the—he looked so puzzled earlier, and now he nailed the answer himself.
But even after getting it right, CEO Kim Minsoo still looked confused.
“What do you mean? Isn’t that something you say about people you’re not close to?”
“Huh? No. It’s the opposite.”
He widened his eyes, clearly not understanding.
This, though, was something I could answer confidently.
“When you don’t expect anything, it means you don’t get disappointed or resentful either. The moment you accept someone as they are, you can get along with them just fine, without conflict.”
“Ah…”
Hmm? Did I say something wrong?
Suddenly, CEO Kim Minsoo leaned in across the table.
But I kept talking.
Because this was something I really wanted to say.
“But this isn’t just about my brother. It’s the same with everyone I’m close with. The Cheongseong seniors, Gibong-hyung, Junhyun, Oh Jisoo-seonsaengnim… and…”
I hesitated for a moment.
Then decided to just say it.
“You too, CEO. It’s the same for you. The people I like and want to stay close to for a long time—I end up feeling that way toward them too.”
This time, Kim Minsoo let out a quiet sigh.
I didn’t know why.
But to me, this was something like my own definition of relationships, one I’d formed since I was young.
Being close to someone didn’t have to come from expectation or dependence.
In fact, when you expected too much, or looked at them differently, misunderstandings and disappointments tended to follow.
I glanced at Kim Minsoo.
He wasn’t smiling, nor frowning.
Not touched, not disappointed either.
Just a strangely unreadable expression.
Finally, I said this.
“Oh, and when I say ‘no expectations,’ I don’t mean keeping a distance. It’s more like… trusting that they’ll do just fine even without my interference. A kind of comfort that comes from respect.”
I wasn’t usually this serious.
But oh well—it was true.
Kim Minsoo stared at me blankly for a moment, then gave a small nod and said,
“You’re right. Not expecting—that’s the real way to trust someone. Seriously, Taeyoon, sometimes you really make people think.”
Then he grinned and said,
“Thanks.”
It wasn’t anything special, really.
Feeling a bit embarrassed, I added,
“Next time you meet him, just ask him to buy you something tasty. He might like that.”
My brother always got in a good mood when I asked him to buy me good food.
After Taeyoon left,
Kim Minsoo immediately picked up his phone and sent a short message.
[Nonhyeon-dong Owon Garden. 1 PM.]
He hesitated a bit, then added another line.
[I made the reservation, so you buy the meat, hyung.]
When the reply came—[Got it.]—he let out a small laugh.
Funny how something so simple could make his heart feel lighter.
It was his brother who had asked to meet first.
The reason was probably the Almond Young project.
If he’d just said, Come to the office, or I’ll go to yours, it wouldn’t have felt burdensome.
But when his brother suggested eating together, for some reason, he’d felt uneasy.
That was why he’d asked Taeyoon that question earlier.
‘Don’t expect anything. Don’t expect anything.’
He repeated it over and over in his head as he headed to the restaurant.
Clatter—
The sliding door opened, and there was Kim Jinsoo.
“You’re early.”
“Yeah, I was just… excited, I guess.”
What was that supposed to mean?
As Kim Minsoo shrugged lightly and was about to sit down, Kim Jinsoo spoke first.
“I liked the song. Especially that DJ version. I kept listening to it on my way here. Did you work with that DJ again—what was it, Blackhole?”
“Huh?”
Kim Minsoo froze mid-step, blinking.
Ah, Taeyoon told me not to expect anything.
But how could I not, after this?
…Was this the kind of expectation he meant?
I don’t know. But I’m excited, so what can I do?
Thinking such thoughts,
Kim Minsoo looked at his big brother with bright, eager eyes.