Jang Jun
Winter receded faster that year than anyone had expected. Even though it was only mid-February, the biting cold had already eased into something almost mild.
And as the weather loosened its grip, a beloved old hit that had been lying dormant began to creep back out, preening for attention — planting its name, however low, squarely on the music charts.
Lee Hae-jin checked the community chatter, then turned to look at Kim Se-jun inside the recording booth. He was in the middle of laying down his title track, Spring Breeze. Se-jun's voice poured from the speakers, riding a melody brimming with the thrill of spring, and Lee Hae-jin smiled, thoroughly pleased.
It was a masterpiece. No argument needed. The moment it dropped, a spot in the upper ranks of the charts was as good as guaranteed.
Number one isn't impossible, either.
A song that captured the flutter of spring, paired with Kim Se-jun's name — that was not an unreachable result.
"That's wonderful. Thank you for your hard work."
Song Dae-jun's satisfied voice followed Se-jun out of the booth.
"Thank you as well."
Se-jun greeted him with a bright expression. It had been a deeply satisfying session.
"Is the recording all wrapped up?"
Lee Hae-jin came over to ask, and Se-jun shook his head.
"We still have to record Spring Rain."
"Even so, it'll finish faster than we expected."
"Yes. There's still mixing and mastering left, but it should come in ahead of the original schedule."
Song Dae-jun added his assessment, and Lee Hae-jin crossed his arms and nodded.
"Let's push a little harder. The weather this year looks like it's going to warm up faster than anyone thought."
At Lee Hae-jin's urging, Se-jun glanced sideways — and Lee Ye-eun, who had been huddled awkwardly in the corner, startled at the sudden attention.
"Ye-eun. Let's get ready to record."
"Ah... okay."
She gave a tiny nod and hurried toward the booth with quick, small steps. Lee Hae-jin spoke up again.
"The moment Spring Rain is finished, we send out the press release."
Se-jun answered, then watched Lee Ye-eun disappear into the booth. Her joining his album. That innocent, delicate beauty of hers seemed to glow even without a scrap of makeup. It felt like a waste to use her for the song alone.
Should I try making a music video?
He set the thought aside and headed for the booth. The recording came first.
Just as Lee Hae-jin had promised, the moment the tracks were in the can, stories about Kim Se-jun's first album began pouring out like bamboo after rain.
The songs he had already shown the public had not been in vain. A great many people were waiting for his album with their hearts in their throats.
But not everyone was sold. More than a few voices raised concerns the moment they saw the concept.
His fans fired back at once. In a matter of minutes the community had split into believers and skeptics, arguing back and forth — and Se-jun slipped his phone into his pocket.
He couldn't really blame the doubters.
They'll know once the song comes out.
Whether his judgment had been right or wrong.
And right then, the doorbell at Kim Se-jun's apartment rang.
Already here?
He rose from the sofa and went to the door. Jang Jun stood on the threshold with an awkward look on his face.
"Hello."
"Come on in, Jang Jun."
Where Jang Jun looked stiff, Se-jun greeted him with easy warmth. True to the promise he had made last time, the moment album work was more or less finished, he had invited Jang Jun to his home — to help him. More precisely, to put his talent in front of the public.
"You practiced the song I sent you until it was perfect, right?"
"Yes, I did, but..."
Jang Jun nodded weakly. A few days earlier Se-jun had sent him an audio file and told him to practice like a madman, and Jang Jun had thrown everything he had at it, clutching at the chance like a drowning man at a straw. Then he had actually played the track. He had been stunned. The song was so good it felt too good for him.
"Are you ready to perform?"
At Se-jun's question, Jang Jun let out a thin sigh. He had heard the plan, yes — but how much good would it actually do?
Watching him, Se-jun gave a short laugh and reached for the computer.
"Don't worry. I may not look it, but I did earn a Silver Play Button."
Se-jun's plan was simple: a MeTube live stream, and through it, a way to put Jang Jun in front of the public's eyes.
Kim Se-jun's MeTube channel had long since grown into something enormous, well past a hundred thousand subscribers. He had kept uploading covers of other artists' songs, delighting people along the way, and had even hired an editor so the whole thing could be run properly.
"So I'm singing in front of at least several thousand people today?"
Jang Jun's voice would not stop shaking.
"Yeah. Probably? If a lot of people show up, it could even hit ten thousand."
At that staggering number, Jang Jun's face went pale. He had already heard the figures, but it was an audience he normally could not even imagine. In the time he had put out two albums, he had never once appeared on a regular broadcast. He had never stood in front of dozens of people, let alone hundreds — and now, suddenly, thousands at the very least. It was online, yes, but his mind going blank was inevitable.
"Don't want to? If you'd rather not, we can just do a drinking stream together."
Se-jun pulled a beer from the fridge and said it with a grin. Jang Jun shook his head at once.
"No. Of course I'll do it. Do you know what kind of chance this is?"
His hands were soaked with sweat at those impossible numbers, but it was an opportunity he could not refuse. How many more times in his life would he get to sing in front of thousands of people — maybe even ten thousand?
At Jang Jun's grim resolve, Se-jun nodded with a faint smile. With Jang Jun's talent, he would give those MeTube viewers something worth hearing. The chat would fill with praise, and watching that reaction, Jang Jun would feel a thrill he had never once tasted as a singer. In other words, it was a chance to give him a reason to keep living as one.
And it'll help promote the song, too.
The track Jang Jun had been humming through his practice was one Se-jun had originally conceived for a Four Seasons concept — the song that would have belonged to autumn. They had landed on the same seasonal idea, so if Jang Jun simply showed what he could do, anticipation for Se-jun's own album would rise right along with it.
And on top of that, there was Jang Jun's still-unrevealed secret. Knowing that secret, Se-jun was certain that doing him this kindness now would come back as something far greater later.
One move. Three wins.
He smiled to himself and spoke.
"Shall we get started, then?"
Jang Jun nodded, his face set.
The instant Kim Se-jun went live on MeTube, people poured in by the thousands. In front of that crowd he introduced Jang Jun, and the chat offered only a lukewarm welcome to a face no one recognized.
That lasted about a minute. The moment Jang Jun started to sing, they went wild for him.
That sweet voice. And the polished, finished song Kim Se-jun had written himself. Even Se-jun caught himself drawing a quiet breath at how perfectly the two fit together.
I knew it...
There was a reason he had become a fan. The way Jang Jun closed his eyes and sang — if Se-jun had been a woman, he might have fallen for him on the spot. In fact, several women in the chat had already lost their minds.
The short song ended, and Se-jun turned toward him. Jang Jun was staring at the computer screen as if he could burn a hole through it. He said nothing, but his face was full of a deep, stunned emotion. For someone the public had never acknowledged, someone who had only ever wandered in the dark, the fierce response of those MeTube viewers was more beautiful than a single shaft of light.
He could not even speak properly. He hung his head and murmured, very small,
"Thank you..."
The public's love, felt for the first time in his life. Tears threatened to break loose. Se-jun and the viewers offered him their comfort, and Se-jun smiled inwardly. He could stop worrying that Jang Jun might give up being a singer.
And just as I expected.
The chat scrolling past his eyes was full of praise for Jang Jun — but interest in the song itself, compliments on the writing, and comments saying they could not wait for the album kept pouring in without end.
"Man. I really owe you, Se-jun."
"You're going to keep being a singer, right?"
"Of course. After tasting a high like that."
Jang Jun nodded over his beer. After Jang Jun's set, Se-jun had sung a few songs of his own before ending the MeTube live, and the two of them had settled in for an after-party over drinks. Two guys the same age. Once the alcohol kicked in, they hit it off and grew close in no time at all.
"I told you. You're going to make it. You just had bad luck."
"Honestly, how was I supposed to take that at face value? I just thought you were trying to make me feel better."
"You believe me now?"
Jang Jun gave a short laugh, then nodded.
"But there's something I want to ask."
"What?"
"Why did you help me?"
Doubt rippled through Jang Jun's eyes as he looked at him. Reading that look, Se-jun answered offhandedly.
"I told you. I'm a fan."
"That's all? No other motive?"
Jang Jun probed as if testing the water, and Se-jun felt a slight pang of conscience. When he had first decided to help him, it had not even crossed his mind — but a few days later, the memories of Jang Jun had come back.
His father was no ordinary man.
Even in the distant future, only a string of coincidences had ever brought Jang Jun's parentage into the open. The look in his eyes said he was wondering whether Se-jun had figured it out — and whether that was why he had approached him at all.
"That was all. My favorite singer is thinking about retiring. What kind of fan wouldn't help?"
Watching Se-jun answer so naturally, Jang Jun gave a sheepish smile.
"Sorry. I've got some stuff that makes me a little sensitive."
After that, the small talk kept coming, and so did the empty bottles. To Se-jun, Jang Jun was exactly what his first impression had suggested: a hearty, straightforward guy. The slump had put a gloomy cast on him lately, but once the alcohol went in, his real nature came out.
"Haa. Se-jun, what's your goal?"
"Huh? My goal?"
Jang Jun's face was a little flushed. He asked it with the smell of beer on his breath.
"Mine, for now, is getting my parents to acknowledge me. Later on I want to hit number one on the charts, like you. But I was curious what someone who's already done that would even have left as a goal."
A goal...
At Jang Jun's question, Kim Se-jun stood up all at once. He opened the studio door, went inside, and came back out carrying a gayageum, then sat down with it across his lap.
"A gayageum, out of nowhere?"
Se-jun did not answer. He drew his fingers across the strings, one after another. At the softly ringing melody, Jang Jun smiled despite himself.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Jang Jun nodded.
"Gayageum music... I don't know much about it, but it's really something. Soft. A sound any Korean would love."
Se-jun gave a quiet laugh. A sound any Korean would love. It was not wrong — but it was a little disappointing to hear.
He tipped back what was left of his beer and drained it.
"Ahh..."
The cool, sharp fizz bit his throat. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, then spoke slowly.