Episode 24. Concept Planning (3)
‘Was this always such an ear-grabbing piece of music?’
I rewound the three-minute track and played it again.
There were parts in the middle that felt a bit excessive, but overall, it left a stronger impression than before.
“This is good?”
“Really?!”
At my words, color returned to Lee Cheonghyeon’s face.
“I’m not exactly a person with great musical knowledge, but I like it.”
Lee Cheonghyeon let out a sigh of relief. But I couldn’t relax yet.
If Lee Cheonghyeon’s talent had suddenly blossomed and he had developed beyond the Lee Cheonghyeon I knew, that would’ve been fine.
But what if the past Lee Cheonghyeon had made this kind of song, yet after arrangements or some other process, it was released as the song I knew?
This case would be problematic. Because taste was ultimately a personal matter, and public reaction was something you only knew once you tried.
If it were the latter, no matter how much I said, “Ugh, I think I prefer the Lee Cheonghyeon version!” it would be useless unless I could convince the entire company.
‘There’s no way I, who just joined, can do anything about the A&R team.’
I desperately hoped this situation fell into the former category.
Perhaps even the praise of a tinkerer was welcome, for Lee Cheonghyeon picked up the mouse with a much more comfortable expression.
“Please listen to this too. This is the melody I thought of at first.”
The new track Lee Cheonghyeon played for me was exactly the same as the song I knew.
“Was there a reason you changed from the first version to the one you played me earlier?”
“Do you remember the three of us talking about the concept with Ju-u hyung last time?”
Your catastrophic tastes, you mean. Of course I remembered.
“I was just thinking something like, ‘It’d be nice if it felt exciting~.’ But then I wondered if the image should be more specific? So I thought about various things, and the direction changed.”
“Specifically, what did you think about?”
“A giant 6-meter metal fanfare!!”
Lee Cheonghyeon gave a thumbs-up.
It definitely had an explosive feeling. Though I suspected the purpose of setting off the fanfare was closer to destruction than celebration.
‘If the song changed based on our conversation… then there’s a chance this melody will stay as it is, right?’
I would have to hear other people’s evaluations too, but personally, I preferred the version Lee Cheonghyeon had revised.
I patted the shoulder of Lee Cheonghyeon, who had grown this far on his own.
“It must have been hard getting this far. You’ve worked hard.”
“I still have miles to go.”
True, compared to the work Lee Cheonghyeon still had to do, the melody was only about as difficult as preparing ingredients.
Still, finding fresh ingredients in this quantity was no small feat. I gladly sent Lee Cheonghyeon, who had toiled for a full week, to his room.
Perhaps thoroughly exhausted, Lee Cheonghyeon left me with a quick goodnight and immediately returned to his room.
Up until then, I didn’t know.
That there was someone watching me and Lee Cheonghyeon’s haphazard composition challenge.
* * *
During group practice, we practiced for 55 minutes and were given a 5-minute break.
While I was trying to review my movements in front of the mirror, Jeong Seongbin approached and asked.
“Aren’t you tired, hyung?”
“Huh?”
“I noticed you seemed to be doing something with Cheonghyeon every night. I was worried you might not be getting enough rest.”
I was about to say we were making a song but quickly answered evasively.
“Just talking about songs. Were we being too loud in the living room and bothering you?”
Because Lee Cheonghyeon, who had been too embarrassed to let others listen to his song, probably wouldn’t like people talking about him.
But my worries were unfounded.
Because Lee Cheonghyeon, picking up his water bottle, had answered Jeong Seongbin’s curiosity with, “It’s because we were talking about composing!” and left the practice room.
If he could be so nonchalant about it, why was he so nervous yesterday?
Jeong Seongbin asked me again as I stood there dumbfounded.
“Composing?”
“Yeah. I told him to give it a try since he seemed interested, and he worked really hard on it.”
“Aha. Still, please don’t overdo it.”
Jeong Seongbin expressed concern for my health and returned to his spot.
I watched Jeong Seongbin’s retreating figure and thought.
‘Worry about your own health, looking after the well-being of all five members by yourself…’
No one takes care of your health for you. All the more so if you have no guardian or if they’re far away. The more so, the more you had to take care of your own body.
I was wondering if I should tell him that the battery of youth doesn’t last forever, when another person approached.
This time, the visitor was Park Ju-u.
“If it’s composing… is it related to the concept we talked about last time?”
“No. It’s just something Cheonghyeon is writing personally.”
“Then hyung, you….”
“A pacemaker with enhanced whipping capabilities.”
Truthfully, all I was doing was listening and pressing ‘like.’
Still, since he had asked, I answered sincerely, but Park Ju-u didn’t leave after hearing my answer and continued the conversation.
“Um, hyung.”
“Yeah. What?”
“I… I know you’re busy, but could you help me with my song selection too?”
“The monthly evaluation song selection?”
I asked just in case, and Park Ju-u nodded.
There was one week left until the next evaluation. No matter how quickly Park Ju-u learned songs, starting the selection now felt more than a little late.
‘Has he been worrying about this all along?’
Since quick selection was important, Jeong Seongbin might be better suited than me, so I cautiously suggested an alternative.
“Have you asked Seongbin? I think he’d be more helpful than me.”
At that, Park Ju-u shook his head.
“…It’s a bit hard to talk to Seongbin about it.”
Just then, Jeong Seongbin called us together, saying the break was over.
“Shall we talk over dinner later? Let’s practice first for now.”
“…Yes.”
Park Ju-u readily agreed to my suggestion, without any apparent impatience about the delayed song selection.
After that, I had to tremble with anxiety under Gang Giyeon’s harsh guidance until dinner time came.
* * *
The first-floor lobby at dinner time was extremely quiet.
Most of the staff seemed to have left work, as they were nowhere to be seen.
Thanks to having said I’d eat separately, tonight’s dinner group consisted of only me and Park Ju-u.
I sat at the table, removing the packaging from my salad, waiting for Park Ju-u to speak first.
Without fail, Park Ju-u set his oriental dressing packet outside the plastic container and spoke.
“…I said before that I wanted to do a strong concept.”
“You did.”
“I’ve been thinking about it ever since… but no matter how many songs I listen to, nothing feels like ‘this is it.’”
“It’s not easy finding a song that suits your taste.”
“Eventually, it even became vague what I was looking for.”
It seemed Park Ju-u had given considerable thought to the topic he had briefly chatted about a few days ago.
However, there was something puzzling.
‘Was he the type to be this stubborn about his preferences?’
Rather, the image Park Ju-u had shown after debut was closer to ‘come what may.’
Unlike most of the members who had been similar to what I knew, the current Park Ju-u felt a bit unfamiliar.
“What’s bothering you the most about selecting a song right now?”
“…I don’t know.”
“One: you can’t find a song you like. Two: you can’t find a song that reflects the feedback from the last evaluation. Three: something else. Pick from these.”
“Three…?”
I’m screwed. At this point, I’d have to guess and hope for the best.
I carefully thought about what might have been confusing Park Ju-u’s state of mind recently.
The thing most different from the past was probably my existence as UA’s most uncontrollable tinkerer.
I didn’t think the fight between Choi Jeho and Gang Giyeon had affected Park Ju-u.
If so, only one thing remained.
Lee Cheonghyeon’s composition.
‘He was definitely there in the conversation that time too.’
Not knowing the exact cause and effect, I threw out the question with the mindset that I had nothing to lose if I was right.
“Did watching Cheonghyeon compose cause a change of heart or something?”
Having heard my words, Park Ju-u answered with difficulty after deep thought.
“…I think so.”
At that moment, an absurd melodrama piecing together the current situation rose in my mind.
Lee Cheonghyeon, enticed by a few shallow words of praise, grinding his soul away until late at night despite being a minor, enjoying a hobby that would later become his calling…
…and Park Ju-u complaining, ‘I can’t even sing the songs I want to sing, and you’re the only one finding yourself?’—a failed drama featuring that.
Haha, debut or whatever, as long as it doesn’t end in complete devastation, I’ll be grateful.
Park Ju-u cautiously added a word before me, who had probably gone pale.
“Cheonghyeon challenges different genres so well… I feel like I’m the only one who still can’t figure things out.”
Park Ju-u then dropped his gaze. He seemed to think his worries were trivial compared to Lee Cheonghyeon, who had only done classical music, now writing pop songs.
I tore open the fork packaging of Park Ju-u, who hadn’t been able to take a single bite of his salad, and asked.
“Are you feeling impatient?”
“…It seems so. I wonder if I was being too complacent… I’m ashamed, too.”
Truly an admirable mindset.
During my time at Hanpyeong Industries, I had never once agonized over whether I was being too complacent in my work.
‘It’s not even a debut song, just one song for a singing test.’
Honestly, I thought you could just pick something suitable for an evaluation song.
But I myself had gone all-in on song selection, and I knew it was their serious attitude in everything that had carried them to debut, so I couldn’t carelessly add anything.
Instead, I emphasized that my words were merely a personal suggestion and spoke to Park Ju-u.
“The strengths of the songs you like might lie in their message or concept, but what if you tried thinking about whether there’s another strength?”
“Strength?”
“In some songs, you might like the guitar riff, and in others, you might like the drums.”
“…That’s true.”
“If you expand the elements you like, finding a song that suits your taste might become easier.”
“…You’re right.”
Not that I had been able to find Manager Nam’s strengths despite using that method.
“Who knows? There might be an idol song written by a composer who’s a rock music maniac.”
At my silly joke, Park Ju-u smiled belatedly.
With a much lighter heart, I asked Park Ju-u.
“By the way. Can I ask why you couldn’t talk to Seongbin about this?”
“Ah, that…”
I was worried I might have touched on a sensitive part regarding their friendship, but fortunately, Park Ju-u answered with a nonchalant expression.
“Seongbin asked me if I wanted to try being an idol together, so I changed my path to become an idol trainee.”
I knew. Park Ju-u had been preparing to be a solo singer in the early days of joining UA.
“Preparing to debut with the members is nice, and I don’t regret choosing to be an idol since I thought about it a lot… but when I listen to rock music, Seongbin starts watching my reaction.”
“So our Seongbin feels guilty for dragging a friend into this….”
Park Ju-u nodded. It seemed he felt quite sorry that his friend was watching his feelings.
‘I can see why he couldn’t talk about his song selection worries.’
Still, it seemed nice to have such a friend in the group. Wasn’t it heartwarming to have friends who considered each other’s positions?
Of course, I couldn’t relate since I didn’t particularly have any friends.
Somehow, I felt like I had lived my life in vain.
* * *
March passed by really quickly.
Baking bread and experiencing recording.
Resolving disputes between members, cheering someone on to write songs diligently, holding mock evaluations to help them relax, and giving advice on song selection.
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[SYSTEM] A ‘New Assignment’ has been assigned.
▷ Join the debut team
▷ Reward: EXP (20)
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And so, after spending such a fulfilling month, the March monthly evaluation that would determine Spark’s debut team began.