A Chilly Night
It's chilly. The forecast said it was a sweltering 30 degrees, humid as hell, but maybe the rain all day yesterday cooled things down. Good thing I'd packed a cardigan. I started to shove both hands into my pockets but stopped.
"Ah, earphones. Earphones."
I popped in my Bluetooth earbuds and dialed someone. It was 11:30 p.m. Even this close to midnight, the call was picked up lightning-fast.
"What? Already done? Didn't go well?"
"What time is it, and you're picking up that quick?"
"Hey, I asked first. Did it work out? Or not? And don't you know this time of night is prime time for broadcast writers? We're wide awake."
"Well... short answer: half and half."
"What the hell is that? Success? Or did it ultimately go to shit?"
Oh Seo-young turned around. Luckily, Kim Min-hyuk and Seo Hyun-woo still had more to say and hadn't followed her out of the shop right away.
"I don't know. His face looked like he'd help right away... but no firm commitment. Maybe he was just being polite since it's been a while."
"You saw him, right? Is Falcon Seo Hyun-woo?"
"Yeah."
"If he won't bite, snag Kim Min-hyuk at least."
"Come on, sunbae. I told you, that kid didn't even bring up Kim Min-hyuk's 'memories', so why keep pushing him?"
Oh Seo-young pictured Kim Min-hyuk, who kept cracking lame jokes and killing the vibe mid-sentence. She immediately erased him from her mind.
"Sunbae-nim, just in case, but seriously—don't even think about booking Kim Min-hyuk. Not one bit."
"Why? He seemed chatty on the show."
Chatty? "That's 100% scripted. I swear on my salary. We were drinking just like this until moments ago. Total nuclear no-jam. Seriously..."
"So?"
"Huh?"
"So who's the guest for next week? Nuclear no-jam or not, you gotta fill that slot. Not even next week—four days left, Seo-young-ah."
"Ah, no-show. Right, gotta fill it."
"Seo-young-ah. You swore you'd handle it, no matter what. I'm not helping this time."
"Got it, sunbae."
"PD-nim's gonna ask in two days. Figure it out by then. Hanging up."
She knew the main writer wasn't watching her right now. Still, Oh Seo-young held her phone reverently, bowing politely as if the woman were standing right there.
"Yes, good night, sunbae. See you tomorrow."
Click. The call ended, and her tone flipped instantly.
"She really lays it on thick."
Some people talk big, others run around on foot—same shit. Everyone's decent at heart. They're just doing what the bosses order.
Oh Seo-young looked up at the starry blue night sky.
"Yeah. Gotta fuck up those higher-ups."
I scribbled with my pen, then glanced out the window. This square frame was my only portal to the outside world. Kinda like a hospital room, huh? My one-room studio crammed everything into a single space—self-sufficient prison. I shook my head quietly.
Yesterday's chicken boxes rolled around on the floor. Hell, maybe a hospital room would be cleaner. The thought shook my focus for a sec, but I reined it back in.
I pulled out the printout I'd gotten earlier. Still just those five measly lines.
She'd been sick, and Black Label's songs and activities had given her great courage.
She was grateful.
She didn't drag it out any further.
That was it. Nothing more to add.
I set down the beer-stained, tear-smudged paper and looked up. What thoughts led to writing this?
"Thank you for giving me great courage."
I read the last line. Was this an ending... or a new beginning?
"Too few hints."
I couldn't tell. End or start, didn't matter. She wanted to thank them for watching Black Label closely all this time. Even if the writer was fictional, it didn't matter. It was a one-sided gift to no one in particular. That's what I wanted to express.
Click, click. As the DAW booted up, I tapped the desk corner.
"Staring out the window all day... what's that feel like?"
Nah. Even if sick, who'd stare at the last leaf like that? Reverse the era too much. They'd explore the world via smartphone. Just fingers. Image forms: fingers patting the phone like mine pat the keyboard.
Sunny afternoon? Or a dawn moon like now? My mind flips, day-night switches with clicks.
"Day?"
Sun streams through the window, birds chirp—but my head shifts to night. No, night it is. Matches the mood I'm crafting. I press the cool night air to my nose tip.
The returning morning, a new tomorrow—what'll it bring? Curiosity mixes with daily pain, gazing at myself. Some days, I wish tomorrow never came. Yet this night feels fresh. The smartphone's endless scroll? Stale. Boring. Nothing new here anymore. I set down the phone, staring at the moonlight.
Stars twinkle outside. What's beyond those shining stars? A frail figure staring blankly out the window removes her hat. Weird. This undefined someone suddenly is Won Ji-min.
Like a music video, Won Ji-min lowers her head. She gazes at her mother snoring on the folding bed, strokes her cheek.
Won Ji-min slips on slippers, reaches for the window—the only link to the real world beyond online. Fingerprints on the glass, dust on her palm, doesn't matter. She opens it.
Night air's cold—Mom's nagging echoes, don't open it—but whatever. Won Ji-min surveys the scene. Hospital rest area lit by streetlights. Ambulance whizzing in and out the main gate, drawing her eyes.
The farthest I can go is right there.
Haven't crossed that gate in years.
What world's beyond the hospital entrance?
Memories fuzzy. Elementary school snack bar—Grandma still there? Places she cherished—still around? Pondering through the night, thud. Someone reaches for Won Ji-min.
Like Peter Pan reaching for Wendy from the window, someone grabs and pulls Won Ji-min. Her body collapses; her soul slips free, soaring with an unknown fairy. Freedom—at last, the freedom she'd dreamed of.
"Haa..."
Hard. Seo Hyun-woo hadn't felt any freedom chasing this story. The sun had risen, set again.
"Ha..."
I opened my eyes, wiped drool from my mouth. The monitor brimmed with notes.
"Supposed to rest, you bastard Seo Hyun-woo."
Can't stay still, huh. Planned a sabbath week—failed. Ended up working anyway.
I stood, then plopped back down. Still rough edges everywhere. Current length: 3:20. Not short for a modern track, not long either. Couldn't fit everything I wanted. No lyrics set, no theme decided.
"Whatever."
I'd captured the girl's story—possessed by Won Ji-min—in beats and imagery. Playback started as the sun dipped low. Time synced perfectly. Just blinked—dawned a full day.
Tweak the mix on the back-end sound, and the track's done.
"Then what?"
Hadn't thought that far. I scratched my cheek. Made the song, but no outlet. Can't just shove it on radio. Lyrics issue, vocals issue. Half-done, half to go.
Who sings? Who writes lyrics? One person fits perfectly.
I scratched my nape.
"Haa, didn't wanna see her..."
Side Quest Activated!
Unread Alert!
Unread Alert!
Unread Alert!
I started checking the backlog of alerts.
I wonder if Oppa’s doing okay?
Won Ji-min slightly lowered the heavily drawn blinds. Dark. Pitch black all around. She wasn’t even sure where they were.
A rustle—Manager Jeong turned. "What? Ji-min awake? Still a ways to go. Sleep more."
"Hng... What? Still far?"
Even as Manager Jeong whispered, Hye-soo flipped her sleep mask and sat up.
"Wh-where are we?"
"Hey, don’t make noise for no reason. Sleep more."
Hye-soo peeked at the blinds. "So dark. Was dark leaving the dorm, still dark. Still dawn?"
"You saying that for me to hear?"
Manager Jeong picked at her on purpose, but Hye-soo shrugged it off.
"Nah, not for you, Oppa. Even if you heard, what power you got? Gotta be team leader level to tweak schedules."
Manager Jeong shot back. "Yeah, team leader’s powerless now~ Don’t you know how much the rep’s investing in you girls?"
"Nah, don’t know. Don’t wanna know. Ugh, hungry."
Van cruising the highway. Hye-soo cracked the window. Cool night breeze. Waving at the opposite rest area:
"Can’t we stop at a highway rest stop for some ramen?"
"Rep’s watching, they say. Wanna show up puffy-faced? Hye-soo-ya."
"Oppa."
Won Ji-min called Manager Jeong, glanced at her phone, asked quietly.
"So... no time for personal schedules anytime soon?"
"Huh?"
"Wanna sing a song."