Full-Length Album "We're Here."
"We're here."
The car pulled up somewhere near Hongdae. It hardly qualified as a bustling district—more like an area smack in the middle of gentrification. A convenience store, a handful of restaurants and shops, and some houses were about all there was.
"Wasn't the company not here before?"
"Once construction wraps up, we'll move over here," Hyein replied to Myeongjeon's question, approaching the building where work was in full swing.
The first floor was an open storefront with glass windows. The second and third floors looked like office space. Construction seemed focused on the first floor and basement.
"The first floor will be for offices and a store. We'll sell band merch and handle general admin stuff."
With it being lunchtime, the site had paused for a break. Hyein navigated the cluttered mess with practiced ease, explaining to Myeongjeon as they went. That area inside was the office. Over there, the bathroom. That side's the staff break room. From here to there, the merch booth...
"And if you go downstairs from here, it'll be practice rooms and a recording studio from this point on. This side's the recording booth, and this is the practice room."
The basement was fully equipped with top-tier soundproofing. Myeongjeon looked around in admiration. Even she hadn't seen many places with insulation this thorough.
"What gear are they bringing in?"
"We'll go with whatever you think, Suyeon. Mom doesn't know much about that stuff."
Those words sent Myeongjeon into a dreamlike daze. Junhong's studio had been decent enough for her past work, but it paled in comparison to this. State-of-the-art soundproofing and amenities, and according to Hyein, she could even spec out all the music equipment herself. Her heart raced as she buzzed around, excitedly sketching out ideas everywhere. Hyein chuckled softly at the sight of her daughter so thrilled. That was exactly why she'd started this project—to see her like this.
"Huh?"
After touring the construction site, they headed to a nearby café. Listening to Hyein's story over coffee in the quaint, antique spot, Myeongjeon nearly spat out her drink.
"Mom's calculations say it's totally doable."
"Uh... you think so?"
Wasn't that a bit too optimistic? Myeongjeon racked her brain to process what she'd just heard.
Boiled down, it came to this: After hearing the story Myeongjeon had spilled before, Hyein had decided to overhaul Label Echo Sound to fulfill her "daughter's dream." On top of the indie music platform she'd originally planned, it would now include full label and marketing functions—a proper company setup. The construction site they'd just seen was part of that.
Once finished, they'd relocate Echo Sound there, launch practice and recording room rentals to expand the indie label, and kick off platform-izing the label simultaneously. The catch? None of this had been the original plan. First secure revenue with the digital platform, then build the physical space—that had been Hyein's step-by-step approach. But it had shifted to this aggressive push to make her daughter's wish come true.
"And after feeling it out a bit myself, I started thinking we should go bold with investments from the get-go and push hard."
Isn't that overly optimistic? Myeongjeon thought as she listened. Sure, no one invests thinking it'll fail. But with her decades more experience in the music trenches than Hyein, she couldn't help worrying.
She's probably crunched the numbers thoroughly...
No matter how much of a "daughter's girl" Hyein was, she was a businesswoman at heart. She wouldn't pour money in without solid projections just because her kid wanted it. Still, the worry lingered.
"Mom's got it all figured out, so don't stress too much. You just focus on the music you want to make, Suyeon."
Reading her mind, Hyein urged her not to worry.
No helping it. Guess I just have to work my ass off...
Far from easing her doubts, it only solidified Myeongjeon's resolve. She had to hustle harder.
Full-length album concept meeting, round three. Having moved past the disaster of round one and even round two, this session felt remarkably orderly. Everyone calmly sharing their thoughts.
After that mess in round two...
They'd bickered endlessly about what each wanted until it blew up into "Why the hell would we do that? It won't sell!" Their first fight since the fashion spat in Japan. They'd clearly reflected hard, and the mood was subdued.
"I think... we should keep carrying on the previous concept."
Seoha crossed her arms at Hyeona's words, as if to say she'd hear her out.
Hyeona shrank back a little but pressed on. "What we tried before... our concept was kind of like youth, right... something like that."
"Yeah. Though you could argue the details differently."
"So if we stick to that theme, people might... like it more. That's what I think. Like, the EP had that J-rock vibe—if we suddenly go metal on the full album or something, it might be..."
Seoha glared at Hyeona, who yelped "Eek!" and looked spooked, but she didn't back down.
"I agree. We've pretty much locked in our genre already. Group Sound's sound is this, you know? It's imprinted like that."
"Wasn't Overthrow modern rock? We can't say it's set in stone."
"That was the audition—special case."
Iseo countered Seoha's rebuttal. Myeongjeon watched with interest. Iseo and Hyeona leaned J-rock; Seoha clung to metal.
"I get what you're saying. Consistency matters, right?"
The two nodded at Myeongjeon's words. But Seoha's counter came flying right back.
"Old rock bands or current ones—genre shifts happen all the time. No need to drag the J-rock vibe from the EP forever. I don't even see why."
Her tone brooked no argument. Hyeona opened her mouth like she had more to say, but Myeongjeon raised a hand.
"Enough, enough. Looks like we won't decide today either, so let's call it here."
The album concept meetings Myeongjeon had kicked off without much thought were hitting unexpected snags. The bandmates' desires diverged more than she'd anticipated. She wanted to mediate a compromise, but since these concepts came from their hearts, finding a middle ground was tough.
Was I wrong about this?
Myeongjeon stared at the blinking cursor on her MacBook.
Was her approach flawed? Declaring they'd incorporate the kids' input for the full album had backfired, making everything feel stuck. Like they were spiraling deeper into a maze.
Stuff she'd never dealt with back in her "Seo Myeongjeon" days. She reminisced.
Back then, aside from her creative talents hitting rock bottom... she'd lived exactly as she pleased. Teach guitar? She taught. Go hermit? She vanished. Need cash? Back to sessions. A life of total independence.
No need to weigh this and that. If annoying people piled up, I'd hole up in the mountains and shred guitar till my heart's content.
Compared to that, now she felt tethered. Daily meetups with "Mom," school, hanging with friends, managing relationships, band meetings, practices. The polar opposite of before. So many bindings. Unlike her old life where she could ditch everything and bolt, now she couldn't.
Is that why it hurts?
She questioned herself. Did she miss the old freedom? Nah.
The stalled album progress. Hyein's support that made her think, This much? The anticipation from countless fan clubs. Friendships with the "friends." Bonds she'd accrued as "Ha Suyeon" that her past life couldn't imagine—thick and special. She wasn't callous enough to ditch it all for the old days, which hadn't been that joyful anyway.
For some reason, a fairy tale from her childhood surfaced. Someone had said: "If you come at four in the afternoon, I'll start being happy at three."
Doing it all solo without ties? Easy as pie. No opposition, no compromises. But where's the fun? You'd just end up alone.
She closed the word processor, fired up the DAW, and picked up her guitar.
Music is your own story, right?
The first EP she'd crafted... wasn't really hers. A tale borrowed from "Ha Suyeon's" talent and sensitivity. Plastic Nostalgia.
Now, time for her story. The emotions she felt right now. Maybe a bit embarrassing, maybe something they'd hate hearing... but stuff she hadn't done before. Stuff she had to do.
Stories from "Seo Myeongjeon's" decades-long life she couldn't or wouldn't tell even once.
Yeah, that'd be good.