Thump-Thump Tap. Boom-Boom Thud.
Drumbeats echoed through the practice room—thump-thump tap. Boom-boom thud. The heavy kick drum pounded relentlessly, but everyone was on razor-sharp edge.
Thump-thump tap. Boom-boooom.
"Hey, cut it out. Can't you see the hyungs are having an important talk?"
Choi Jeong whipped around and snapped at the drummer.
Choi Jeong's one-man team had brought in a favor from a friend's little bro to sub for the Kickkick Band drummer who'd bailed, saying he couldn't hack it. The kid was hooked on the buzz of appearing on TV, and Choi Jeong just needed someone who listened well.
"Got it! Yes, sir!"
The drummer grinned ear-to-ear, twirling his sticks. Even after getting chewed out, he didn't lose his bounce. Choi Jeong shook his head.
"Ah, that crazy bastard. Wonder if he really thinks I'm full of shit."
Choi Jeong turned back to the crucial conversation.
"Ah, hyung. Sorry. What'd you say? Keep going."
The bald executive—not a single hair out of place on his gleaming scalp—gulped his coffee.
"Yeah, so... Dongsu Pharma's got a good eye on Kickkick Band too."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Right when I walked into the meeting room, they were bickering among themselves. Black Label this, Kickkick Band that."
Choi Jeong scratched his scruffy black beard.
"So the other two are out."
"Isn't that jumping the gun a bit?"
"That's exactly why it's spot-on. You know what those guys are like. They're the type to burn their own money."
Choi Jeong pulled an e-cig from his pocket. Power on! The red light blinked, the device humming to life.
"Even if it's hundreds of millions on the line, you think those bastards would waste it on kids nowhere near winning?"
The bald exec looked skeptical. It wasn't like he could just nod along blindly—the Black Label and Kickkick Band cheerleaders didn't hold the real power. Companies didn't run on objective calls.
"So Dongsu's betting on us?"
As always, companies moved on the whims of whoever held the reins—subjective, arbitrary judgments.
Yeah. Dongsu Pharma would follow their gut-strong team leader's lead. And that quirky team leader had made a bold demand.
"They wanna keep it hush-hush under the table, but can we let 'em hear our finale song?"
"What?"
Choi Jeong shot to his feet. He hadn't misheard. Crystal clear. He'd caught every word from the bald exec and got it perfectly. No need to think—the response exploded out.
"What kinda bullshit is that? Those fuckers nuts? Seriously. They're just saying they won't work with us. Who the hell asks to hear the music first?"
"The sponsor."
Soon to be their lord and savior. The bald exec couldn't blow up like Choi Jeong. He just listened quietly, everywhere he went.
Choi Jeong oozed confidence in their win.
"Fine. That's how you let the champ slip away. Jack up the price sky-high, get burned, then go 'Aw, should've signed back then.' Regret it. Whatever. Their loss."
He brushed off his hands.
"So?"
"Huh?"
All that buildup so far? Just the wind-up. Choi Jeong's face screamed now for the real deal as he laid the groundwork.
"So? That G&X fucker—you talked to him yet?"
The bald exec looked up at Choi Jeong and nodded slowly. Then chuckled.
"Yeah. Handled it well."
Feels like I'm a kindergarten teacher.
The now-empty auditorium. Three kids hunched over tiny notebooks, scribbling what they wanted to say.
Let's build our stage with our story.
Three months of filming—90 straight days facing each other more than family—and the production crew moved like clockwork. Especially Shim Yu-jeong, cheeks flushed with some swell of emotion, zooming in tight on Black Label.
What were these kids up to? Not just curiosity shoving the camera closer. Pure heart. Genuine prayers for Black Label's success, framing them perfectly in every shot.
She'd locked in "heartwarming" as the keyword first, smoothing the workflow.
Lyrics? Polish up what the kids wrote. Done.
Now the real work fell to one person.
"Me."
Personal verses were whatever, but nail the chorus lyrics quick—meant grabbing the punchiest beat possible.
I patted Won Ji-min's shoulder as she focused hard.
"I'll be in the studio. Let me know when you're done."
Won Ji-min twirled her pen wildly before answering.
"Yes! I'll wrap it up as fast as I can!"
No need to rush. I left the auditorium, whistling through my nose. No melody in mind—just habit. I'd snagged hits that way before, humming randomly.
Our story.
Debuted from Korea's top idol powerhouse—second to none. No big scandals like others, but total flop. People said Black Label faded 'cause they were too bland, no drama.
Went to disbandment's edge, but the last spark—Supreme Beat Contest—exploded them huge. Wild stages every round, snagging gasps and cheers to finals.
Flipped the "bland" script completely. Won it all. That was Supreme Beat Contest Season 2.
Difference now? Black Label's composer was me, Seo Hyun-woo. And this was Season 1, sadly.
One nagging curiosity bubbled up.
Who won Supreme Beat Contest Season 1?
Kickkick Band, like everyone guessed? Uh...
"Was it?"
I pushed open the studio door. Stepped in, pulled it shut—the question bounced back.
"Nah, don't think so?"
Sat at my pre-booted rig, pondering deep. Then who?
Not Black Label or Kickkick Band. Can't recall. Rockwon, top contender? We crushed 'em ourselves. Left: Kim Won-sam, Jang Ha-na.
I folded fingers one by one, mulling.
Kim Won-sam and Jang Ha-na? Not winners.
"At least in my memory."
Obviously. Season 2 and 1 winners and cast all jumbled—natural for winners to shift. New variables popping nonstop, old results gotta bend.
"But... top skills don't vanish."
Like me.
Player talent matters, but composer's too. How well you draw out potential. That's key.
And Kim Won-sam, Jang Ha-na. Unknown names hitting semifinals? Producer power at play.
I dug up their producers.
"Knew it."
Gajwadong Tiger for Kim Won-sam? Eh, pure luck on brackets. Just rode the draw.
Jang Ha-na's: Digdagan.
Silly stage name, like kid's play. But no joke on skill.
Digdagan, real name Yoo Yeon-ha.
If soccer's got Mbappé and Haaland, K-music's got Won Ji-min and Yoo Yeon-ha.
Started as composer, later debuted solo with just acoustic guitar, sweeping charts. Genius.
Debut story straight manga hero.
Question was simple.