Debut (1)
The morning after he uploaded the video, Park Siwoo woke early, as he always did, and reached for his phone.
"...!"
The last traces of sleep vanished in an instant.
The video he had posted the night before had already racked up a staggering fifteen million views.
Good lord.
It had even surpassed the video Lee Yena herself had filmed. Of course, hers had been up far longer, and its total still dwarfed his — twenty million views and counting. What he had beaten was the single-day record. Back then, Lee Yena had hit ten million in a day. Kim Yuna and the Neon Heart members had outdone her by roughly five million.
At this rate, there probably isn't a soul in Korea who doesn't know Neon Heart.
It was perfect publicity. Groups that generated this kind of heat before they had even debuted were vanishingly rare.
Even if the song weren't any good.
With this much attention, success was already in the bag. And there was no universe in which a song of Park Siwoo's wouldn't be good — taking number one on the Melon charts was a foregone conclusion.
He smiled, satisfied.
That was when her voice reached him.
"Are you up?"
Lee Yena, who had been cooking in the kitchen, came over to his side.
"Ah — Yena."
Park Siwoo rose from his seat. She pressed a cup into his hand.
"They say apple juice in the morning is good for you."
There had certainly been no apple juice in Park Siwoo's house. He accepted the cup and asked quietly,
"When did you buy this?"
"My parents run an orchard, so I brought some over."
She smiled, soft and bright, and added,
"It's not expensive, so don't feel bad about it. Just drink up."
"Thank you."
He drained every drop. Whether she had added sugar or the fruit itself was that sweet, the juice was remarkably rich.
"That was delicious."
"It's nothing. Go wash up — I'll have breakfast ready."
"Alright, then."
He headed for the bathroom. After a quick splash of water on his face, he stepped back out to find the living room full of a mouthwatering smell.
"Come sit."
Lee Yena stood at the induction cooktop and waved him over. At first, the idea of a top star cooking breakfast in his own kitchen had felt like a dream. Now it had settled into something almost ordinary, as if it had always belonged there.
He dropped the towel in the laundry hamper, walked to the table, and sat. A moment later, a perfectly grilled croaker and a bowl of white rice appeared in front of him, along with a pot of radish soup that had been simmered to a deep, savory richness.
Work was not far off. He picked up his spoon without delay.
"Thank you for the meal."
"Eat well."
Lee Yena smiled, bright as morning.
Breakfast disappeared quickly. It was so good he barely had room to think of anything else; he simply ate. When he finally set the spoon down, he let out a long, contented breath. It had been a thoroughly satisfying meal — and all the more so because of the care that had gone into it.
"Thank you for another wonderful breakfast."
Lee Yena, seated across from him, lit up.
"Thank you for eating it so well."
"That's because you cooked it so well."
He stood and was about to carry his dishes to the sink when she stopped him.
"You get ready for work, Siwoo. Leave the housework to me."
"You don't have to go that far."
"I like doing it."
Put like that, there was nothing he could say. He thanked her, brushed his teeth, and headed for the dressing room. He was pulling on his trousers and sliding into his shirt when she came hurrying in.
"I'll tie it for you."
She picked up the necktie from the corner. Ordinarily he would have refused. He had decided, by now, to simply let her.
When he didn't object, she reached up slowly and knotted the tie around his neck with careful, precise hands. Not a wrinkle out of place. Looking in the mirror, he asked in genuine surprise,
"Have you tied neckties before?"
"I wear them a lot for outfits. The stylist usually ties them, but they come loose sometimes."
"Ah. That explains it."
He nodded. She let out a small, airy laugh and asked,
"Do you like it?"
Like it? Of course he did. A woman who not only woke up early with him, but cooked his meals and even helped him get dressed.
He answered with a faint smile.
"I like it."
"I'm glad."
She took a step back. Lee Yena was not a short woman, but Park Siwoo stood far taller; her head did not even reach his chest. Her red lips — like a rose beaded with morning dew — curved into an arc. It was the smile of the most beautiful woman in South Korea, and his heart kicked hard against his ribs of its own accord.
Then she turned, lifted the jacket from its hanger, and held it out.
"Siwoo. Your jacket."
"Ah — thank you."
He came back to himself and reached for it. She eased the jacket onto his shoulders with the same careful hands, then packed his work bag as well. No one had ever looked after him like this. He managed an awkward smile.
"Thank you, Yena."
"I'm living in your house for free. This much is the least I can do. You'll be late — go on."
"Alright."
He nodded and headed for the front door. She slipped past him, crouched down, and neatly lined up the dress shoes he had left in a heap.
He flinched.
"You really don't have to do all that."
"I do it because I like you."
"Pardon?"
"I... like you, Siwoo. That's why it isn't hard at all."
Her voice was so small he couldn't catch it. He was about to ask her to say it again when—
Riiing.
A phone. Spam, of all things, and it shattered the moment clean in two. Lee Yena felt it too. She smiled faintly.
"Shouldn't you be heading to work?"
He glanced at the clock. He was about to be late. He nodded.
"Yes. I should get going."
He finished putting on his shoes and stood at the door. Before he opened it, she spoke again.
"I heard married couples hug and say goodbye before they leave for work. We're not a married couple, so we can't, right?"
"That's... right."
"Aww. That's too bad."
She clicked her tongue, disappointed. He left her behind and pulled the door open, then paused with one foot over the threshold. A hug wouldn't be so terrible, would it?
The thought stayed a thought.
"I'm off."
"Okay. I'll be waiting."
With that, Park Siwoo left for the office.
At that same hour, Kim Mir was scrambling to get ready for work. There was a cover shoot first thing in the morning, which was the only reason he had dragged himself out of bed this early.
"Honey. Honey."
He shook the shoulder of Kim Soyeon, still asleep beside him. He, too, was a man who took breakfast seriously.
"There's no breakfast?"
Kim Soyeon scrunched up her face without even opening her eyes properly.
"Just heat up last night's leftover chicken."
"Who eats reheated chicken first thing in the morning. You're supposed to cook for me."
Her voice was already sharp with irritation.
"What are you, a kid? You want me to cook for you? I'm sleepy, so shut up and get out already."
"..."
Kim Mir clenched his fist. Married life had settled over him like a deep, grinding fatigue. His wife was dissolute to a fault — a full-time housewife who could not cook, could not clean, could not do laundry, and had no intention of learning any of it. Looks were all she had.
He looked down at her sleeping face, bare of makeup. Nasolabial folds showed faintly at the corners of her mouth, and her pores were large. No amount of skincare could hide the weathering that time had dragged across her features.
And why the hell doesn't she even shave?
His face twisted further. If it weren't for the baby, he would have filed for divorce that very morning.
He stalked out of the bedroom and jammed the leftover chicken into the air fryer, irritation rolling off him in waves.
How the hell did Park Siwoo live with a woman like this?
"Damn it. That son of a bitch."
He had had the man investigated recently, and what he had confirmed had been enough to set his teeth on edge. Guitar Hero — the greatest composer in the world — was Park Siwoo. The jealousy had detonated on the spot.
And he even had his woman stolen from him.
Kim Mir ground his teeth.
"He said he was debuting some Neon Heart or whatever, didn't he?"
Coincidentally, that band's debut lined up with his own group's comeback.
For a freshly debuting act, TV music-show rankings matter.
A high ranking meant real promotion. A low one meant being buried. And more than that—
If we take every number one from here on out.
Neon Heart's standing would shrink to nothing. They would spend their entire career getting crushed under Kim Mir's group, and even Guitar Hero's reputation would take a hit.
He smiled, thin and ugly. His agency, fortunately, was treated as top-tier in the industry.
I'll show you the power of money.
Kim Mir picked up his phone and started making a call.
Park Siwoo arrived at the office to a summons from Cha Yeseung and headed straight for the CEO's suite.
He knocked, stepped inside, and found her waiting.
"Come in. You've heard the news, I take it?"
"Yes. Today's the pre-release."
"That's right."
A Fan Club Pre-Release was a promotion in which a track went out first to paying fan-club members. Putting the music out for free would have been better for raw viewership, honestly. The only reason anyone ran a fan-club pre-release was money. Membership ran about twenty dollars a head, and — as was true everywhere in this business — the real money lived in the secondary industries, not in the streams themselves. Fan-club numbers, then, were a preview of whether Neon Heart would rise or stall.
The problem was that the streaming platforms still had not released precise membership figures.
Until now.
"We got the fan-club numbers today."
"Today?"
"Yes."
Cha Yeseung handed him a sheet of paper. He took it and read slowly — then his eyes went wide.
Artist: Neon Heart
Paid Membership: 7,000
Status: Pre-debut — no commercially released title track
"Seven thousand...?"
It was not an enormous number for a fan club — until you remembered that Neon Heart had not even released a song. They had leftover tracks from their indie days, true, but those view counts were negligible. It was Guitar Hero, and the challenge, that had pulled fans in from everywhere.
As he studied the page, Cha Yeseung went on.
"Fan-club revenue came to roughly a hundred thousand dollars. I'll give you ten percent of that as your share."
The industry standard was nothing at all, or maybe one percent. She was guaranteeing him ten times that.
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it. The public release is the day after tomorrow, so do well. Ah — and one more thing."
"..."
"There was a team whose schedule overlapped with ours, wasn't there?"
"Yes."
"I didn't bring it up before because I didn't consider them competition. I think they're worth taking on now. ENTRA — you can beat them, right?"
ENTRA was the idol group Kim Mir belonged to.
Park Siwoo grinned.
He had no intention of losing.