Chapter 68: It Was Winter
It was winter.
Just as the sweltering summer had passed and the cool breezes of autumn began to blow, a frost that couldn't be felt in that season started to settle in. The first syllable Won Ji-min sang was like a snowflake. Snowflakes melting the moment they touched the asphalt pavement gathered and piled up. The accumulated snow wouldn't melt even if stepped on by passersby. Instead, it left traces on the soles of their shoes, staining the dirtied snow.
The song Won Ji-min was singing right now was just like that. Her timbre lingered in the ears of everyone listening. The tone that rang in their ears wrapped around the listeners like a warm embrace offering comfort—but no, it wasn't.
Even I, who had just finished the final mix myself, was newly astonished every time I heard it. What must Hwang Seon-yeong, hearing it for the first time, be feeling? She dropped the coffee she was drinking. The spilled coffee from the fallen cup soaked the script.
Hwang Seon-yeong and the PD pulled out tissues to wipe up the coffee, but their eyes remained fixed on Won Ji-min. It was the eardrums that could hear the song, yet their gazes stayed glued to her. They must have been shocked.
I turned my eyes toward the camera capturing us without missing a beat. Visible Radio. So many eyes were watching us. And the snow that had fallen wasn't just enough to slip into the gaps under shoes anymore. It had piled up enough to cover them entirely.
The vocals, which had emphasized only Won Ji-min's timbre, now stood out even more richly. Layers of sounds intertwined, blending into a unified melody. As the track built toward its climax, emotions exploded in tandem with the rising octave. The mood of the song felt strangely ambiguous. It's rock~ yeah. It's a ballad. It didn't fit neatly into any one box. If I had to describe the progression, it was an R&B ballad. Something like that could roughly explain it. But it wasn't confined to genres.
The snow-covered path, lightly crunched underfoot, began to melt in time with the song's end. Under the streetlamp, the breath visible as 'whoosh~' grew thicker. The snow, which had looked so romantic, was trampled by countless feet, turning dark and dirty. Seeing the blackened snow, I thought the romance would shatter—but it persisted? The snow melted away, but the wind grew only fiercer. And that was reality.
The fluffy sentiment of first love conjured by snowfall was no longer there. Snow looked like pretty trash now—just snow falling, nothing more. That was all there was to gaze at.
It didn't drag on. Won Ji-min lightly hit a high note and ended it as casually as lowering the mic. The song concluded like a small taste of an appetizer. The PD and Hwang Seon-yeong still hesitated, clutching tissues already soaked through.
"It's... over?"
Hwang Seon-yeong, still out of it, asked Won Ji-min, who nodded nonchalantly as she slotted the mic back into the stand.
"Yes!"
"Uh..."
Everyone must have been thinking the same as the dazed Hwang Seon-yeong. Typos surged as chat exploded uncontrollably. The PD snapped back to reality and waved a hand, while Hwang Seon-yeong hurriedly spoke.
"Yes, we'll be back after these messages. Please wait just a moment. This has been Hwang Seon-yeong of Pleasant Afternoon, Hwang Seon-yeong!"
The PD flicked the switch with a click. The mic was off, but the camera kept rolling and broadcasting. Hwang Seon-yeong didn't care. She showed her shock plainly.
"What... what was that? Right now?"
"Yes?"
Won Ji-min, her throat dry, gulped down some water and coughed. Choking hard, she kept hacking. The PD, holding wet wipes nearby, paused mid-coffee cleanup to wipe up the spilled water too.
"Are you a magician? No, a fairy?"
"Yes?"
Words hard to dismiss as mere impressions poured from Hwang Seon-yeong's mouth. Her face flushed red—maybe from the heat—as she fanned herself vigorously right next to it.
"The moment Ji-min started the first line, I got pulled somewhere weird."
"Warp."
"Huh? Yeah, warped."
Hwang Seon-yeong glanced at the PD, who had tossed her the perfect word. No clear term had come to mind, but the assist was spot-on. She repeated it.
"Warped somewhere."
Closing her eyes, she continued. "I said it felt like warping the instant I heard Ji-min's song. Thought elves and some fantasy world were coming, but no. It was just... Korea. A Korean back alley."
With eyes shut, she waved one arm. "Blink-blink. Streetlights blinking in some alley, walking along shivering like the little match girl..."
"Seon-yeong, it's the little match girl. Not straw-selling girl."
The PD kept seasoning her impressions. But when the flavor got too salty, Hwang Seon-yeong shook her head.
"No. Thinking about it, it wasn't the little match girl. Um... what was it..."
Resting her chin, she recalled the feeling. Standing by the roadside feeling reality, but not cast out there.
"Felt like love..."
Not first love. More like dredging up an ended romance from old memories. Her chin, once smooth, wrinkled like a walnut; she rubbed it.
"Bittersweet feeling. Bittersweet, but strangely captivating. Why? PD, you saw that movie, right?"
"Huh?"
"Architecture 101. Bumping into a first love who's no longer the same—just an old memory now."
She thumped her chest. "That's the vibe I got."
"Well... could be."
Seemed different for me. The PD glossed over it and tapped his watch.
"Ad break's almost up. Back to seats."
Hwang Seon-yeong pulled her chair, chuckling. "They saw all our fooling around anyway. Whatever."
The red light on the studio wall blinked. PD raised his left palm, counting down from five. On the final beat, Hwang Seon-yeong nailed the script line flawlessly.
"Hello. Welcome back to Pleasant Afternoon. Hwang Seon-yeong here. Yes, our afternoon isn't over yet. Not at all. An afternoon that flies by for some might feel quietly lingering for others."
She smiled. "That's me right now. Did you all enjoy Black Label's Won Ji-min's song? My afternoon just transcended time and space."
The PD tilted his head— that last bit wasn't scripted.
"Hard to put into words, but like reuniting with a first love that's all done and dusted? Sweet yet bittersweet all the way. But not unpleasant. How does that happen? Ji-min?"
"Uh..."
Won Ji-min turned to me. "I don't really know. Hyun-woo oppa made the song, and I just sang it."
"Let me rephrase the question."
Her gaze shifted to me. "How does that happen, Hyun-woo?"
"I made the song, and she sang it as is. Sounds irresponsible, right? Sure, I made it well, but... maybe because Ji-min perfectly captured the feeling I wanted, that's why you felt that way?"
Hwang Seon-yeong smirked slyly. "So the song's great, but only 'me, Black Label's Won Ji-min' can sing it that perfectly—no one else could?"
"Exactly. That's the answer."
"Ugh... aaaah! No. There are so many who sing better than me."
A shameless guy like me admitted it easily, but humble Won Ji-min deflected the credit. Hwang wasn't the only pro. True to a Gold Mouse winner, the PD quietly typed directions. Sensing juicy bits, he prompted for fun episodes from this track.
Hwang nodded. "Any fun stories from making this song?"
"Uh..."
Won Ji-min gazed at the ceiling thoughtfully, replaying memories. Hwang tossed out a hook.
"Not none, huh? While our Ji-min thinks, shall we read some messages? Whew, so backed up. 3124: Like you, Seon-yeong, it reminded me of first love."
Hwang clapped. "See? This song feels like sucking on a bittersweet cinnamon candy—everyone gets that."
I asked, "Good thing?"
"Y...eah? You know it's bitter, but your hand reaches for it anyway. That's the vibe. Look here."
The guest monitor switched to chat.
"Ooh, great question. 4345 just asked—did you see?"
Hwang side-eyed me through the monitor. "Yes, just saw."
"Lots sharing our feelings—first love aside, mostly cold like snowfall. Composer's experience in it?"
I tapped the pen tip on the desk. "Experience. Yeah, experience. Seems like it has some."
Locking eyes with Won Ji-min staring at me, I turned back. Facing the youngest writer watching us, I spoke.
"What do you think, Director?"
Cha Sae-hee appeared out of nowhere, shoving her phone forward.
"Sae-hee, I know the song's good. But we already have people set. This sudden switch embarrasses me and the music director."
She shook her head. "No. Not saying use this song. Use these people."
She patted the phone screen. Won Ji-min and Seo Hyun-woo deep in broadcast.
"These two."
"That's what I..."
As the director rose from the storyboard pile, Cha Sae-hee grabbed his shoulder, seating him again.
"I get it's awkward. But nothing's fully set, right? Not just one OST—we need at least ten. Can't spare one slot?"
"Even if I say yes..."
"Change your thinking."
"Huh?"
She tapped his head. "You stuck to principles, let them go. Now another drama in our slot blows up with their song. Director, sure your stomach won't hurt?"
Puffing her cheeks, she shook her head. "Not for me. Should've listened."