Chapter 170 : Mixtape: Orbit Edition
Chapter 170: Mixtape: Orbit Edition
Blackhole’s music was something special.
It controlled the entire space and set the atmosphere.
At his own direction, at the pace he desired.
The listener could only be helplessly swept along by the flow the DJ had designed.
That formula was perfectly applied to this <Mixtape: Orbit Edition> as well.
‘It’s different from just watching.’
Everyone seated acknowledged it—
That they had been caught up in their own prejudice.
Visuals were simple.
In Blackhole’s DJ videos, viewers saw flushed-faced spectators holding glasses, colorful lights and stage effects, the spotlight fixed on the DJ.
They were so intoxicated by the dazzling visuals that they forgot what mattered most.
‘The music…….’
The first person to come to that realization—
Was none other than Manager Park Jeonghun, who had been viewing Blackhole through tinted lenses all along.
Right after <First Spark> ended,
And <Take a Bow> had just begun,
Manager Park, who had been quietly watching the speakers, murmured,
“I didn’t think he was the kind of person to do this kind of music……. I’m kind of surprised.”
He didn’t know much about music.
To avoid falling behind the trends, or just to check what style was popular these days, he occasionally looked up the latest idol music.
At most, he was vaguely aware that R&B had been making a comeback recently.
That was all he knew.
Ever since he was young, music had always been outside his interests.
Only kids who didn’t study would plug in their earphones and slump over during night study hours.
Wasn’t it more productive to solve one more TOEIC question in the time you spent listening to music?
That’s the kind of thought he used to have.
Sometimes, when he saw pictures or articles about clubs, this would even cross his mind:
– Ugh, how disgraceful.
Now in his late thirties,
He wasn’t quite old enough to be called an old-school boomer.
Just a timid model student who disapproved of kids who partied too much.
He didn’t even know what the inside of a club looked like.
So of course, he assumed they were just places where people went to drink and move their bodies around.
DJs? They sat at the highest point on stage, playing music, scratching records with a “scratch-scratch” sound, making easy money, the central figures of the nightlife?
If someone said they went to clubs to listen to music, he’d scoff.
Just say you’re going to meet women—what’s so hard about that?
That’s who he was.
‘They say you only see what you know. That’s spot-on.’
His mindset shifted a little.
If he put a hand on his chest and thought about it honestly……
Maybe he was just a loner envious of the popular crowd.
Looking back now, it seemed likely.
For someone like him who only ever studied, clubs were completely out of reach.
Places like that were for cool and handsome people.
But maybe……
He had wanted to go, just once?
He didn’t have any friends to go with, or even someone who would suggest it.
All his friends were the type who didn’t know how to dress up. If he ever brought up going to a club, he’d be lucky not to get cursed out.
And before he knew it, he was nearing forty.
Suddenly—
‘Would’ve been nice to go wild just once, screaming and letting loose.’
He felt indignant.
Were they really just enjoying something this good all to themselves?
Before he realized it, the highlight of this mixtape, <Take a Bow>, had reached its climax.
Leave it to a literature major with a master’s degree—
Manager Park couldn’t help but comment.
“They’re using ‘Take a Bow’ in that sense. I like it.”
Khek.
A small laugh slipped out nearby.
But Manager Park didn’t hear it, too focused on the music.
At some point, he had begun to naturally sway with the rhythm.
He didn’t even know when it started, but he had become immersed in Blackhole’s music.
Assistant Manager Song Hayoung asked playfully,
“Manager Park, you’ve never been to a club, have you?”
“……That’s not true? I have, actually?”
Why was he so serious about it?
Oh, come on. He totally hadn’t been.
Unaware that everyone’s eyes were now on him,
Manager Park Jeonghun quietly stared down at the CD cover.
The playlist, handwritten by Blackhole himself.
And then—
“Uh……?”
His face flushed in an instant when he saw the line written at the end.
In messy handwriting.
A carefully written message from Blackhole.
[ On days when you just want to flop onto your bed without thinking and listen to music. ]
“Ah…….”
[ Please plug in your earphones. I’ll be with you. Every day, always, forever. ]
“This is……”
He bit his lip.
As a copywriter, he thought it was the clumsiest, most unrefined copy he’d seen—and yet, for some reason, his heart trembled.
He lifted his head and looked around the meeting room.
Everyone was staring at the album cover.
Some nodded, others lifted the corners of their mouths, lost in memory.
Those expressions were surely…… signs of connection.
Manager Park wore a dazed look.
He, too, could feel his heart stirred by emotion—but he also felt strangely disconnected.
‘Am I the only one who doesn’t get it?’
The fact that he alone in this room couldn’t relate to Blackhole’s message hit him like a shock.
……Did everyone else listen to music when they rested? Was it just me who didn’t?
This time, his gaze shifted toward Taeyoon.
‘……What’s going through his head?’
A kid who probably hadn’t even finished his military service yet was looking at him with deep eyes.
As if he understood everything.
How……?
Assistant Manager Song Hayoung called out to the lost-in-thought Park Jeonghun.
“Manager Park, are you okay?”
“Ah, I’m fine.”
“Should I turn the heater down a bit?”
“No, no. I’m really fine.”
For the first time in his life—
Manager Park Jeonghun felt like he finally understood, just a little, why people were so passionate about music.
It was a strange yet welcome sensation, arriving in his late thirties.
There were five tracks on the mixtape.
About fifteen minutes passed in a flash.
Five tracks, five emotions.
When the music ended, the proposal, appearances, and even the concept were all forgotten.
Song Hayoung suddenly asked Taeyoon,
“Looking at the credits, <First Spark> was made by Composer Stay. So everything else is self-composed?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
They had been completely overwhelmed by Blackhole’s mixtape.
If visuals were simple, then hearing was delicate.
Sound wasn’t something you just felt with your ears.
The vibrations of bass and drums were absorbed by the whole body, and the singer’s story was reinterpreted in each listener’s own way.
It brought back the exact temperature and scent of the day I first heard a song I loved.
Wasn’t that the power of music?
General Manager Hong Seungmin slowly clasped his hands.
Twice, then a third time.
And so, the applause burst forth.
Clap clap clap clap clap—
The small sound became a roaring applause that resonated throughout the meeting room.
Now they truly understood who Blackhole was and what kind of person he was.
“You’re really sincere about music.”
At someone’s murmured comment, the atmosphere fell quiet.
Blackhole had proven it here and now—through music itself.
Moreover, the emotion captured in the mixtape would directly link to the Orbit Phone.
Because the Orbit Phone wasn’t just a machine—it was a tool to express personal emotion and identity.
Simply put, it was a campaign that couldn’t possibly fail.
General Manager Hong Seungmin spoke.
In a firm tone unlike anything they had heard from him before.
“Don’t sell it.”
“……?”
“Let them experience it. Then the customers will naturally seek out our product.”
Hong Seungmin’s keen instincts had kicked in.
From now on, DJing would no longer be fringe music used for club mixing—it would become immersive, emotion-driven content.
Ideas for a promotion in collaboration with Blackhole began to fill his head.
There was no reason to hesitate.
He needed to capture these thoughts before they evaporated.
He turned to Song Hayoung and fired off his ideas like rapid fire.
That was his way of saying: “Take notes.”
“Let’s organize a DJ festival under KW Electronics’ name. Who says only foreign countries can do that? Also… ah! DJing is all about beats. Heartbeat, heart beat. If we link it well, I think we can come up with a good copy line. Think on it. Some users will definitely want to listen to music or even make their own mixtapes after seeing the ad. Check with the development team—see if we can make a DJing app.”
Taeyoon stared at Hong Seungmin, mouth agape.
Was this really happening?
If he got everyone’s hopes up only to say “not enough budget, can’t proceed,” people would be seriously disappointed.
He whispered to Kim Minsoo beside him.
“Is that even doable?”
Kim Minsoo answered with his usual sly smile.
“Maybe?”
His hunch wasn’t wrong.
As if he’d read Taeyoon’s mind—
Hong Seungmin stood up from his seat and declared boldly,
“No matter how much it costs or how radical the concept is, don’t worry and go ahead with the proposal. We’re putting everything on the line for this ad. If I were to handle this with half-effort despite such a great model and amazing music, it would be dereliction of duty on my part as general manager. I’ll take full responsibility.”
“Uh…… is it really okay to just submit any proposal?”
The youngest cautiously opened their mouth, and the general manager gave a soft chuckle.
“Yes, go wild. I’ll yank a big budget for this. Let’s finally make an ad that feels like a real ad.”
Before he could even finish speaking—
A roar of cheers erupted.
“Waaaaaaaah!”
“Really?!”
“General Manager, this is so exciting. You promised, right?”
A real ad.
Those words stirred the heart of every marketer.
For the first time since joining the company, they truly felt like they’d get to create the ad they’d always dreamed of.
Then, Manager Park Jeonghun quietly raised his hand and spoke to Taeyoon.
“Mr. Blackhole. We haven’t confirmed the most important thing.”
“Yes. Please go ahead.”
“This mixtape—would it be alright if we used it? I know it was a gift, but it feels like a waste to leave it as is. Both the tracks and the messages were really good. Just because it’s an ad doesn’t mean everything has to be flashy. I want to evoke these kinds of small but lasting emotions.”
It was unusually long-winded for him.
And passionate.
Song Hayoung thought to herself.
‘Manager Park isn’t usually this passionate. What’s going on? Don’t tell me…….’
Did Blackhole revive the utterly drained Park Jeonghun?
For someone who had been dead set on obstructing this campaign to now step forward as the most enthusiastic advocate—that was quite encouraging.
Taeyoon responded readily.
“Of course. I made all the tracks, so feel free to use them however you like.”
At Taeyoon’s words, Park Jeonghun bowed his head.
Then, after a moment of hesitation, he asked again.
“By the way, Mr. Blackhole. About that club—I heard it’s called Sierra in Ilsan. Is there, um…….”
“Yes?”
“Is there an age limit or anything? I remember seeing online that clubs check for age and even looks…… huh.”
Oops.
Manager Park quickly covered his mouth.
He had grown too comfortable in this setting.
His inner thoughts had slipped right out.
‘What the hell did I just say.’
He wanted to smack himself in the mouth.
A ridiculous thing to blurt out while caught up in the moment.
A man his age, talking about clubs? Ridiculous.
Even if he was curious, he should just hold it in.
There probably wasn’t a place for an old guy like him at a club. You could see that coming a mile away.
As he lowered his head with a slightly gloomy expression—
Taeyoon smiled and asked in return,
“Shall I invite you?”
What? Invite?
Park Jeonghun’s head snapped up.
I want to go. Just once, I’d really like to go.
Experience is important. It could even help with ad planning.
But—
“Oh……”
Still, there was dignity to maintain.
Assistant Manager Song was watching him with intense curiosity.
In that situation, he couldn’t show his real feelings.
“No, no. I didn’t mean it like that……”
“Oh, so you don’t really need it?”
“……But would it really be okay if I went? As you can see, I……”
He looked down at his clothes.
Truly dull, tasteless, stiff, and outdated attire.
This was the only kind of outfit in his wardrobe. If he went like this, people would instantly think he was “that guy.”
In short, he didn’t belong in a club.
“No, no. I’m sorry I made you feel self-conscious……”
“Would you like to come tonight?”
“Y-yes?! As you can see, I don’t really fit the club scene……”
“Is there anyone who does or doesn’t ‘fit’ a club? Just enjoy yourself!”
Park Jeonghun’s eyes widened like a startled rabbit.
Seeing his reaction, Taeyoon added gently.
“Um…… Was that too sudden? It just so happens we have a performance tonight. I think I can set aside a few good spots for you.”
Then voices chimed in from all over:
“Are there still seats?”
“How many people can go?”
“Is it only for KW Electronics staff? My girlfriend works at KW Life—would that count?”
Ah, whatever.
This much would be fine.
Taeyoon confidently brought the situation under control.
“How about Saturday at noon? It’s tough partying on a weekday and coming in the next morning. I’ll ask the club to schedule a special Saturday performance. Just as you all are curious about me, I’m also curious about all of you.”
He paused for breath.
Then exchanged a glance with Kim Minsoo.
It was clearly not a request, but a notice.
Kim Minsoo gave him a squint and a look that said, “You rascal. Do whatever you want.”
Reassured, Taeyoon continued.
“No age limits, no dress codes—just come comfortably. I’d love to enjoy music together. I’m sure the club owner will approve. They probably won’t even charge admission. The club owner is super, super cool. So—who’s coming to Club Sierra this Saturday?”
Surprisingly—
Everyone raised their hand.
The one who raised his hand the highest and most enthusiastically was none other than General Manager Hong Seungmin.
Three days later.
I received the slightly revised final storyboard for the Orbit Phone commercial.
“Hmmm?”
They were definitely wearing the mask properly.
The copy was cool, too.
Everything was exactly as promised, and yet—
“Hrrrrm?”
“Why are you making that prophetic groaning sound again. What is it, don’t like it?”
“No, that’s not it. It’s just… how do I say this?”
Something, something—
Felt 2% lacking.
As I studied the storyboard in deep thought, I reached a conclusion.
“Sir.”
“Yeah?”
“About this ad…”
“Yeah.”
“……I think it won’t feel complete unless the mask comes off.”
No matter how I looked at it, that just seemed right.