Guitar Impressions and Label Dreams
Suyeon pulled a black guitar from her gig bag at the agency. The outside director let out a short gasp of recognition, but Suyeon said nothing as she began plucking the strings.
"Wow, great song."
"What song is it?"
It was a tune no one could guess—not the title, not when it was made. But Suyeon's lively voice and the guitar's sound had everyone in the room buzzing with excitement.
Then came the guitar solo. It wasn't flashy or visually dazzling like some speed demon's shredding. But there was a rhythm that grabbed you by the ears and wouldn't let go. Even the outside director, who had been scrunching his face in concentration trying to place the song, relaxed as the solo unfolded. Was the masterful performance unfolding before him more important than his pride?
And when the song ended...
"That was impressive. Any chance you could tell us what it was?"
"It's Games People Play by The Alan Parsons Project."
"Alan Parsons... I've heard the name, but this is my first time actually listening to them."
The slightly skeptical vibe the outside director had shown at first—questioning her skills—was long gone. Now he stared at Suyeon with eyes sparkling like he'd found a gem.
She passed.
"Well then, we'll be..."
"Hold on a sec."
Yuna let out a quiet sigh of relief at the sight and tried to lead Suyeon away. But the outside director's voice stopped her.
"I probably know more about this than any singer would. How about I give you a tour of the facilities?"
"This here's the PR team. If you join us, Suyeon, you'll need to get cozy with them. They do all the hard work so we can make money, right? Pah hah ha!"
"Ah, yes..."
After hearing that guitar performance earlier, the outside director was completely hooked on Suyeon. He dragged her around, introducing every department: PR, HR, finance, general affairs... like he was determined to stamp her approval everywhere.
Yuna wondered if it might be boring, glancing at Suyeon, but fortunately, she was diligently taking notes and listening to the explanations.
Was she actually interested in what an agency does?
After a few more minutes of wandering—what should have been Yuna's job to guide—the outside director finally sat Suyeon in the break room and even brewed her a coffee.
She's really taken with her that much...
Yuna figured it made sense. There are plenty of good guitarists, pretty girls, and stars with charisma. But someone who's a killer on guitar, drop-dead gorgeous, and has that star quality? That's rare as hell.
The director had been scouted for idol production, but he liked rock, so he probably wanted to try his hand at that side too. And then this talent drops in his lap—naturally, he'd roll out the red carpet.
"Alright, now..."
As they chatted over coffee, an HR staffer slipped in with some documents. The director spotted him and jumped right in, like he'd been waiting.
Contract papers, huh.
Yuna glanced at Suyeon. She looked like she had something to say and waited a beat before speaking.
"Well then, I'll..."
"Right, time to go over the contract."
"I'll head home now."
"Pardon?"
"Huh?"
A brief silence hung in the air. The director, Yuna, the HR staffer, and Suyeon all froze for a moment. Suyeon broke it.
"Contract?"
"Uh... weren't you here to sign on today?"
"Pardon? I was just..."
"No, Suyeon. You said you were thinking about joining an agency."
"Thinking about it doesn't mean I'm joining right now."
Suyeon shot them a baffled look. She bowed her head politely and said to Yuna, "Please contact me for the next session," before vanishing.
All that remained between the three was silence.
It's a bit ridiculous.
Myeongjeon stepped out of Yuna's agency, steadying her bewildered mood as she thought it over. She'd only mentioned stopping by the agency once, and suddenly they were offering a contract. Totally absurd.
Thinking back, maybe that's why. What reason would a random outside director have for asking her to play music otherwise?
Whatever. Myeongjeon decided to forget it. Aside from Yuna, she'd never see these people again. Plus, they'd shared some useful knowledge.
Agencies handle a ton.
Album production, marketing, PR, sales, legal, scheduling, styling, and more. Things Myeongjeon had vaguely figured she'd pick up along the way. The agency handled all that, letting their artists focus purely on performing.
It was a bit regrettable, in a way. But Myeongjeon had never planned to join a label in the first place. She'd turned down Juhyeon and Hwiseok's offer for Entline a year ago—no way she'd join Yuna's now.
And besides...
"Label expansion?"
"Yeah. Just wondering if you're considering it."
Myeongjeon spoke to her mom, Hyein, who was idly sipping coffee and doodling in her diary at the table. Hyein closed the diary and looked at her.
"I've been looking into options."
Myeongjeon's idea was to expand the label her "mom" had bought: Label Echo Sound. It wouldn't be a full agency, but plenty of indie labels operated like mini-agencies. They didn't handle everything from A to Z like a real agency, sure. But hire some people, expand the functions—easy fix. Mom was the boss, after all.
"Expand like that?"
"Yeah. Right now, it's just distributing indie bands' music and taking a cut. That's about it."
Hyein nodded at her daughter's words. She'd impulsively bought Label Echo Sound to support her. She'd planned some business with it, but once she had it, the problems were endless. Money leaking everywhere, accounting and operations a total mess of shortcuts... So she'd focused on restructuring and boosting profits, putting the rest on hold.
"My thought is, recruit producers like other labels do. And on top of that..."
"On top of that?"
"Set up a marketing division like an agency. Go all-in, you know?"
"Huh."
Hyein rubbed the back of her neck and eyed her daughter. She looked hopeful. But Hyein wasn't so sure about granting that wish.
Because that means pouring money in nonstop, right?
What Hyein had envisioned for Label Echo Sound was an indie music platform. Make buying tracks easy, create charts, podcasts, radio tie-ins. Not become a player in the market—eat the whole market with a platform.
But her daughter's direction was the opposite: hire producers and marketers, turn it into a traditional label.
It wasn't unviable, but not a sure bet either. A gamble. So, as a businesswoman—not a mom—Hyein had to ask why.
"That path means you'd have to invest a ton in the label. Wouldn't it make more sense to leverage existing staff? Joining another agency would be way better."
"Hmm..."
Myeongjeon was stumped by Hyein's logic. It made sense on paper. Indie label or not, you'd build from scratch, costing time and money. Another agency would save both, even if they dictated your direction.
In other words, Hyein was asking why choose this despite all that.
Rationally? No reason.
Myeongjeon thought so. Pure logic said join an agency. With her skills, it'd be an escalator ride straight to TV spots, YouTube virality. Ha Suyeon's face everywhere, music blowing up. First-class comfort all the way.
But she didn't want that.
"If we join another agency... I might not be able to work with the band girls. Or make the music I want."
"Hmm..."
Her daughter's face hardened, sincerity leaking through. Hyein sat up straight, listening closely. The raw truth from the kid who'd acted so mature since the accident.
"And..."
"And?"
"Uh, you bought the label and all, so I can't just... ditch it. Gotta grow this one. Something like that."
So yeah, let's do it that way or whatever. Her daughter mumbled embarrassedly, fumbling her words.
Hearing that, Hyein paused... then pulled her daughter into a tight hug.
"M-Mom?"
"Let's do it!! Whatever Suyeon wants, we'll do it!"
Hugging her daughter fiercely, Hyein shouted loud enough to shake the house. That "business mindset" from moments ago? Tossed out the window long ago. How could she say no to her girl begging like this...