Blue Lemon Sky's Chart-Climbing Rebellion

Right behind them stood the nation's largest music streaming site, Vanilla. A song no one had seen coming had racked up impressive numbers and successfully entered the charts.

- Hit 1 million views in just one day after upload... Chart entry on music sites a 'success.'

- Will it ride the vacation season wave up the ranks? Blue Lemon Sky. Or shortened, BlLeS. Hit #89 on charts on release day.

The world's top video platform, Receive. In the 2020s, 1 million views weren't all that rare anymore, but back in the day? Not so much. Fewer users overall, and no international traffic to speak of. Even with broadcast exposure and help from friends, it was practically impossible for a song made by two high school arts kids to hit a million views.

And to celebrate achieving the impossible, I sat in front of the camera and bowed my head.

"Hello, it's Kim Seryeon."

"Kang Saero here!"

We were filming a Q&A video right now. Dressed in our school uniforms, with the background being Hanseong Arts High School's Film Department practice building. It wasn't just about playing up the student angle—this was the core vibe that had propelled BlLeS to the top.

'High schoolers already making pro-level stuff?'

'The raw freshness makes it even better.'

'Wish I'd had that kind of youth... argh.'

"Details matter. Details."

- Baek Yul from the Film Department, pitching the Q&A idea to us.

On screen, we sat side by side in our Hanseong Arts uniforms. Behind us, Film Department seniors clustered together, waving cheerfully.

"For this video, to give back for all the love you sent to the Blue Lemon Sky music video, we're doing a Q&A session."

Saero naturally took the lead, as expected from someone from an entertainment family and former student council member—her delivery had real polish. I chimed in with explanations to support her lines.

"First off, we've gotten tons of comments praising ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the directing. That's all thanks to everyone here."

Like that. Truth be told, crediting Baek Yul and the Film seniors who poured their souls into the music video was one of the video's main goals. Music is made together, so giving props to the behind-the-scenes crew is how you build a healthy ecosystem, right?

Okay, fine, as a composer myself, I just wanted the attention too.

"Oh, no! We just love acting!"

"If the lead's Kim Seryeon, it'd hit a million with just selfies."

"Exactly."

The seniors waved it off humbly, but their smiles stretched ear to ear. Especially Baek Yul-senior. He'd been reluctant at first.

"Why bother filming this annoying crap?"

- Baek Yul from the Film Department, throwing a blanket over his head because he hated filming.

But now? His hair was perfectly styled, and he was angling for the camera shot that made him look best.

After grabbing some quick footage, it was time for the main Q&A.

Starting with me.

"The most common question we've gotten: Are you two getting married?"

The intimate, serious emotions exchanged one-on-one are so intense it gives me panic attacks... No way I'd say that out loud. I just skipped it.

"Pass on that one."

"Pass? Why?"

Saero protested, but only briefly. Now it was her turn.

"Next question: Saero, how'd you film that scarf scene without overheating? Oh man, so much to say about this."

The video stayed light and fun throughout. Whenever I fumbled, Saero smoothly covered; when she got stuck on concept or production details, I'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fill in.

And so, after wrapping at lunchtime, we grabbed some ham burgers from the canteen and headed back to class. That's when a familiar guitar riff suddenly poured from the school broadcast speakers.

"Huh?"

The crisp guitar riff flowed through the speakers. Saero's shoulders twitched instantly, like a cat doused in cold water. I could almost swear her hair was standing on end.

And for good reason—this was Blue Lemon Sky.

"Ah! Nooo!"

Despite Saero's desperate mutter, soon our very familiar voices burst out fresh and clear.

Pang!—Friends around us whipped their heads our way.

"Whoa, the broadcast room's playing Kim Seryeon and Kang Saero's song!"

"Damn, they sing so well."

"Saero's vocals tho!!!"

Saero's ears turned beet red as she shrieked at the top of her lungs.

"Don't listen! Don't sing along!"

Then she clutched her face and faceplanted onto her desk.

"Hnnngggaaah."

"What? You embarrassed by BlLeS now?"

"Hah? Embarrassed by BlLeS?"

"You rejecting composer Kim Seryeon's masterpiece Blue Lemon Sky?"

"No, listening with earbuds is different from this public execution! Ugh, so embarrassing."

Saero's ears were flaming red. The key was performing in front of people she knew, huh. I got it.

The universal creator's dilemma these days.

- Can you show your creation to the anonymous masses? (Of course~)

- But when family goes, "Hey, you make stuff? Show us!" Can you proudly share it? (Kill me instead.)

Something like that was kicking in. Seeing the usually confident girl at a total loss was a first.

"But..."

Peeking at the class reactions through her fingers, Saero muttered softly.

"The song does sound really good."

"Right?"

"If it sounds this great even like this, it's a legit banger."

But even that brief peace didn't last. The broadcast host's voice came on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠soon after.

First in Hanseong Arts history. Student GOAT.

"Hnnngggaaah...."

Amid the classroom cheers filling the air, Saero buried her head in her desk again. Then, barely turning her head, she whispered to me.

"You okay with this, Kim Seryeon?"

"Yeah... probably?"

"Thought you were quiet, but you're an attention whore."

"Feels that way."

Me? Realizing a bit late.

I love this stuff. Thrilling. Fresh. People's attention is the best.

It hadn't been long since the classroom commotion.

A message from Ji Soeun.

Not against it. I like it, actually. Can't rest on one hit like BlLeS. Creators need to stay sharp. Sharp creators always think ahead to the next project—hell, they're almost always in the middle of one.

Ji Soeun's a golden opportunity for me too. Collaborating sometime could be a fresh challenge, draw eyes, all good. But meeting outside right now? Tough. I'm getting known, but she's basically semi-celebrity level after the broadcast airtime.

How many audition stars have blown up that way? Soeun's steadily climbing that path.

But her reply was chill.

What? Inviting me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to the company?

Thud! And so here I was, hat pulled low, mask on, looking straight-up suspicious as I stepped out of a taxi in the heart of Gangnam.

Even among Gangnams, this was Gangnam prime. Totally different vibe from wandering with Saero.

Filling my view: Korea's top agency, JK Entertainment headquarters.

"Whoa..."

The building was huge.

"Yes, visitor pass confirmed. Head inside."

"Thanks..."

After getting my pass at the entrance and directions, I headed to the staff cafe. Quiet, as expected for employees only. In a cozy corner sat a familiar silhouette.

"Hey! Seryeon-nim!"

Ji Soeun waved enthusiastically. Practice clothes and a cap—casual—but up close, her idol aura hit way harder than on screen.

Face to face, words stuck in my throat. It'd been months since seeing her in person.

As I awkwardly sat, she pouted.

"Ugh, what? Acting all awkward between us? We duoed in the canyon!"

Canyon? Like, that made us not awkward by default?

"What do you even think canyon is?"

"It's basically soul-bonding. Nay, a physical—"

"Whoa, stop."

She seemed about to drop something wild, so I cut her off. Then she flawlessly ordered two lattes and dove right in.

"Can't we just hang like normal friends, no awkwardness?"

"Suddenly?"

Less a main point, more a whine.

"Pleeease. Already told the writer noonas we're BFFs."

Booking-related? We kinda agreed on that last time, no?

"Just fake it outside, right?"

"Nooo. People see through that. Needs real bestie vibes for the show! Natural!"

"Who calls their friend 'Seryeon-nim' with formal speech?"

"Duh, that's the concept. I'm an idol trainee, so it's a safety net for that girl-friend position. You get it?"

Nope.

"Plus, I wanna release a song you made. Always thought you were a great songwriter, and BlLeS proved it. Loved it."

"That success was more Saero and Baek Yul-senior killing it than me."

Her voice dipped subtly.

"Sigh. I sing well too, y'know."

"...Pardon?"

Mind blasting with Mandaine's roar from afar.

- Fool!!!

- Know not that excessive humility ignoring context can be poison?!

I rushed to correct.

"No no, my bad. Too many people hyping me lately, so I downplay myself to avoid seeming cocky, but that wasn't saying you can't sing at all."

"Aaaah!!!"

My rambling explanation made her grab her head and squeak.

What? Backfired?

Checking her—no, not quite.

"This makes us the most awkward people ever..."

Awkward, yeah, but unavoidable. She couldn't drop the formal speech either.

Then the lattes arrived.

"Two lattes up~"

"Thanks."

"Thanks! Appreciate it!"

Followed by silence. We stared at our drinks in awkward quiet.

Finally, Soeun cleared her throat to break the ice.

"Ahem. Anyway, collab. That's what I mean."

That piqued my interest.

"I'd use a song from you on my next stage, no prob."

Bit too hasty.

"But couldn't you join our company?"

Hard pass.

"Singers maybe, but composers do better independent, less interference."

"Ah, indie. Romantic. Got it."

"Joining builds career cred, but I've got some momentum now, so big corp downsides stand out more."

"Ooh, confidence."

"And you know, agencies make it hard to chase your vision freely. Who gets which song, what vibe—company or artist input dominates."

"Mm, yeah yeah."

I hadn't experienced it myself, but I'd seen it online from folks swapping updates. Felt less like creators, more like cogs in the massive K-pop machine...

Seemed inevitable. No matter the contracts or guarantees, just being under a frontline giant agency seals it.

"So no in-house producer gig for me."

My pro stance, laid out.

But Soeun's face as she listened? Weird. Eyes wide, head tilted.

She stared blankly.

"But... what's an in-house?"