Awkward Poses and the Silver Mic's Arrival
Putting the illustration from my memories into tags for the second song turned out to be way more annoying and exhausting than I'd thought.
The reason was that tweaking the Vocaloid program or making the MR was basically just copy-pasting the info straight from my head. But prompts? Honestly, you have to input them in English, and in detail, so my crappy English skills hit a hard limit.
I hit generate on the AI illustration site, and an hourglass started spinning with a message that production had begun.
What I wanted was that girl with the distinctive brown hair etched in my memory, in her unique pose. From what I recalled, Farewell Declaration was a pretty unusual song—popular enough to spawn a light novel based on it.
Sigh... that's not what I wanted at all?
Four results popped up on screen, but none hit the mark. Half had the wrong number of fingers, and the other half had off compositions.
I was a total noob at prompting, so no surprise there. Then, out of nowhere, a better idea struck me.
Why not extract a prompt from an image?
The original Farewell Declaration illustration only existed in my head, but striking that pose with my current body—Lee Haru's body—was no problem.
Sure, copying the illustration's pose was embarrassing, but when you ain't got teeth, you gotta use your gums.
Ugh... so embarrassing.
Calling my parents to take this photo? That'd be public execution.
I pulled out the phone tripod from under my bed, assembled it, and set a timer. Trying the pose made my arms tingle a bit, but I held stiff as a board waiting for the shot.
-Click.
The result, mimicking the pose from my mental image, came out perfect, luckily. Even if it looked a little awkward, it didn't matter—this was just for prompt extraction, not direct use. I uploaded the phone pic to the cloud and transferred it to my computer.
Using the extracted prompt, I generated again—and finally got a satisfying result.
There was one tiny issue: it looked a lot like me since it was based on my photo. But whatever, who cares? I was this close to humming "la la la cha cha cha" carefree.
For the first song, I'd just output pure music without even a thumbnail. This time, I slapped "HALU" text on the finished AI illustration and synced the music.
For the video description, I puzzled over what to write, then decided to keep it simple like last time.
Honestly, no clue how long I'd stick with this free engine. The "stiff" complaints weren't just from relying on memories—it was the engine's limits too.
But 200,000 won for premium software? Even for well-off Lee Haru, that's a hefty chunk of change.
If this were a song with an original out there, I'd have to deal with original channels and random covers. But in this world, everything from the MR onward was my creation.
This is the second song. Enjoy!
I'd almost forgotten the MR, but I'd made and uploaded it via Drive. As soon as the song went live, I copied the NewTube link and opened the Vocaloid Gallery.
The gallery was mostly random illustrations and chatter, but true to its Vocaloid focus, songs came up plenty.
I debated aggro titles, then typed one that popped into my head. Lighter than last time, but clickbait gold.
Hoping for more attention this time!
I glanced at my phone clock: 2 a.m. Everyone else was asleep, but the Vocaloid Gallery comments were piling up. Mostly "great song," though some griped about the aggro. Time to quit that.
Huff... bed time.
The fluffy bed enveloped my skin, sleep crashing in. Exhaustion from the grind.
Lying there, random thoughts swirled. Mom mentioned it, but I'd never considered noise complaints. Composing alone on weekends when parents were out seemed fine—until the neighbors banged on the door.
Come to think of it... our neighbors are saints.
After midnight, I'd blast MRs through speakers, tweaking and adding. Unintended nuisance.
"Gotta build a soundproof..."
I conked out mid-sentence. So tired, I swear I heard my own snores rumbling.
"Phew... up on time."
Youth has its perks. Five hours sleep, and I felt energized. Quick wash-up, checked NewTube comments—all rave reviews. Breakfast was fried egg over rice mixed with soy sauce, then brushed.
Mmm, delicious.
Someone else cooking breakfast? No skipping it. Past life, squeezing in cooking was inefficient—starved instead.
The school broadcast shame? Vanished thanks to NewTube hype. My head was all about the incoming mic—missile delivery, arriving today.
"Hm~ hm-hmm~"
Humming lightly, I headed to school like an anime scene. Not narcissism—my looks were main-heroine level, so it fit.
Jisu's probably already at school like always?
Almost there, someone grabbed me—scream escaped. I startled easy these days.
"Kyaaak... Jisu?"
"Haru! You're in such a good mood today? Even humming!"
She heard that? Shame flooded in. Her back-hug brought the usual peach scent.
A few days ago, guy memories would've flinched. Now? I unwrapped her arms and hugged back.
"Yeah. Just... bought something I wanted."
"Ooh, what? Clothes? Makeup?"
"Seee-cret."
She pouted at "secret" but locked arms tight—blood flow tingling.
"Anyway... Jisu, why aren't you at school early today?"
"Uh... it's awkward..."
Makes sense... yesterday's thing? She hid it then, but clearly mortified. Arm-in-arm into class, eyes met Im Jungyeon's—the broadcast perp.
Objectively... Jisu deserved better. She bee-lined to my window corner seat, chatting.
Good news: day was normal. Classes, lunch, dismissal. Quick coin karaoke with Jisu, home—box at the door.
Recipient: Lee Haru
Grabbed the box, dashed to my room. No careful knife work—ripped the tape like a manly man, pulled out the contents.
Finally, the hefty silver-gleaming mic revealed itself.