Entanglement and the Late-Night Call
Another meeting today, huh. Choi Iseo trudged up the stairs to the practice room, feeling a twinge of fatigue. The concept meetings had started at Ha Suyeon's suggestion, but after three sessions with no clear results, Iseo was starting to wear down.
If we could at least see something tangible... that might make it bearable. But no—instead, everyone was just shoving their own ideas forward. Iseo shook her head to dispel the negativity and stepped into the practice room.
The other three were already there, waiting.
"Why'd you all get here so early? Keeping appointments on the dot like that—you're practically model citizens."
"Isn't that just how appointments work...?"
"That's the kind of stereotype we gotta shatter! What century is this? The age of self-PR, right? Don't chase time—make time chase you. 'The Woman Time Follows'—how cool does that sound?"
"Sounds like a total lunatic to me..."
With that bit of idle banter, Iseo poured herself a cup of coffee from the machine in the practice room. The capsules were running low—maybe it was time to stock up. Someone would probably refill it anyway, but since they got to use the space for free, pitching in on stuff like this seemed only fair.
"Alright, time for the boring, annoying meeting..."
"Hold on a sec."
Suyeon stopped Iseo just as she was about to plop down with a dramatic flourish. Leaving the puzzled Iseo and the others behind, Suyeon walked over to the practice room computer, fiddled with it, and spoke without turning around.
"We're on our fourth meeting now, and nothing's been decided—we're just talking in circles. So... I went ahead and made something myself."
"What? A song?"
"Yeah. It's not based on any specific concept... but listen to it first."
Suyeon hit play. Iseo closed her eyes and let the music wash over her. It wasn't clearly any one genre. But there was this faint tickle in the back of her mind, some feeling... like an image beckoning from the misty distance.
"What do you think?"
The three-minute track ended, leaving a hush. Suyeon broke the silence.
"That's the end?"
"No."
Yoo Seoha had asked, and Suyeon answered while sipping her coffee. Droplets of condensation clung to one corner of the slightly cooled mug.
"Right now, it's just the guitar line. The melody... well, it's not finalized. Call it a rough draft."
A single guitar line, a hummed melody, and what looked like a basic four-on-the-floor drum beat recorded in a DAW. That was it—no more, no less. But Iseo, Jeong Hyeona, and Seoha could all feel the potential power lurking in it. The kind of pull that could captivate crowds.
"Song title... hmm, what to call it. Haven't named it yet, but for now, let's go with Entanglement."
Suyeon twirled a lock of her hair as she said it. Watching her, Iseo thought: Entanglement. Entangled in what? But it didn't feel like a desire to break free from some binding force. More upbeat, positive even. Not rejecting the entanglement, but embracing it. A deeply personal emotion.
The EP was definitely distant from our lives.
Whether it was Suyeon composing, Iseo writing lyrics, or the others handling arrangement and performance—the stories on their debut felt removed from their everyday realities. Maybe a few fit Suyeon's rough adolescence, but as the lyricist, Iseo didn't think so.
But this was different. Just from the title alone, Iseo was sure it held Suyeon's personal story.
"Anyway, that's the vibe."
The other two seemed lost in thought at Suyeon's words. Iseo glanced at them all and spoke up.
"I think going with this concept could work."
"Which is?"
"Our stories. We each make simple melodies for the things we want to say, then finish it together as a group."
As she said it, Iseo realized maybe they should've started with what they wanted to express, not genres and concepts.
"No performers for this weekend's show?"
"Yeah. No one worth calling."
"Forget worth calling—find someone we can call."
"No way! Every time we bring someone callable, PD Seonghyeok cuts them. So why keep telling us to find people?"
The writer jabbed a finger at him in frustration. Seonghyeok mumbled sheepishly, "It's just that you keep bringing total duds..."
That only fired her up more. "Those kids we brought last time!"
Seonghyeok pretended not to hear, staring out the window. Wind, you clueless fool. Stop rushing off and bring me a guest. Of course, one with buzz, good vocals, charm...
"Anyway, I've got no one left. Burned all my connections."
"Ugh, seriously?"
He was a radio PD. Airing nightly from 10 PM to midnight—a slot with so little popularity it might as well not exist. Not quite dead of night, which made it even less appealing. He was in charge of that.
"What about Sookyeong?"
"She says nothing on her end either."
"Argh. Should I just call back someone we've had before?"
"Please, for the love of god, do that!" the writer shouted at his musing. But he didn't seem likely to, so the main writer sighed deeply.
Their bickering was interrupted by the assistant writer.
"Uh... I do know one decent person."
"Who?"
"Ever heard of 'Ha Suyeon'?"
"Not bad."
Seonghyeok muttered it as a video of Ha Suyeon singing played on his screen. Concert footage from Invasion from Seoul 2024, her busking song, session work on Kim Jiyeon's Music Letter. Solid all around. Vocals, looks, buzz, guitar skills—everything checked out.
"Right? Total blue-chip stock. Sings great, drop-dead gorgeous, guitar skills are insane. And in these clips, she's super cute too..."
"Yeah. Where'd you dig her up?"
"She's getting famous lately. Not hugely, but."
The assistant writer glossed over her source. Seonghyeok eyed her oddly for a second, then went back to the video.
"Seonghui, got her contact?"
"Email, but I'd need to follow up properly."
"Won't make the deadline then? She's good, but maybe we should look elsewhere..."
"No no no! I'll reach out right away. We can make it in time."
The assistant's confidence wavered a bit. But at the main writer's nudge to find others, she jumped like it was do-or-die, fired up.
"Tell me ASAP if you connect. Only notify Sookyeong once it's confirmed."
"I'll talk to my mom first. If you don't hear back, assume it's approved."
"So... you'll appear on the show?!?!"
"Yes, see you then."
"Thank you! See you then! Thanks for taking the call and agreeing! We'll definitely see you! Thank you!"
"No, thank you. See you then. Take care."
She had no idea why the thanks kept coming, but the call ended. Myeongjeon stared at her phone for a moment before setting it on the table.
Radio, huh...
The call had been an invitation to a radio show. Choi Sookyeong's Late Night Concert, airing nightly from 10 PM to midnight. A program going strong for years.
Sookyeong. Been a while since I'll see her.
Folk singer Choi Sookyeong—now a solid mid-tier artist—had started as his student. He could still picture her guitar in hand: "Here to learn guitar. They say you're the best, mister."
Decades ago now; she probably didn't remember clearly. But it was vivid for him.
Man, you live long enough, you see it all. Back in the day, radio DJs were like celebrities—flying high.
He reminisced. In an era with only TV and radio for entertainment, DJs and PDs held real power. Artists would show up at their beck and call, footing the bill for drinks just to get a spin. Common as dirt.
Now, barely anyone listened to radio. Felt alien to him. When had the world changed so much? No more "dear listeners" chatting live. Truly a shame, he thought.
Forgetting that kids these days did it all far better on YouTube—evolved "real-time interaction." Total boomer move.
But first things first.
Myeongjeon headed out of the room. Mom was outside, sipping coffee and tinkering on her laptop.
"Mom. Got a favor to ask."
"Hm? What?"
"I've got a late-night radio gig, so I need work permission. Can you sign off?"
"What?! For real?? Radio??"
Her casual mention sparked chaos: "Why didn't you say sooner?!" She lunged for her phone. Myeongjeon tried to stop her, sighed, and let it go. Calming her in that state was exhausting.
Anyway, gotta prep something. Go shocking for impact, or something memorable...?