A Few Days Before the Commission
A few days before the composing commission, Go Kyung-min had gotten Ha Suyeon's permission to share the songs with others. Now he was out on a business trip, USB full of tracks in hand, after getting a request from a major agency's A&R rep who wanted to hear them.
Of course, Kyung-min wasn't out there hustling to sell the songs like some composer on the prowl—he didn't have the intent or the skill for that. He'd only asked Suyeon for permission because he thought, "These tracks are too good to just let them rot unused!" All he'd done was casually mention at a drinks session with industry buddies, "Our kids have some killer songs, but they're just sitting there gathering dust," and play them for the group.
Then the next day, he got a call from his friend at the major agency: "I talked to our A&R team—mind if we hear those tracks?"
"Whoa, you made it?"
"Big corps really are on another level."
"Mom and Dad were right—nothing beats landing a spot at a major firm."
His friend was waiting in the lobby. As Kyung-min swiped his card and headed up after the pickup, he tossed out the question he'd been saving: "So what's the deal here?"
"Well... it's like this," the friend said, giving a quick rundown.
After hearing the tracks that day, the A&R team had taken him out to eat, still buzzing about them. "There's this pretty solid rock track," and "Isn't Group Sound's Ha Suyeon blowing up? They say she wrote it." When they asked if he could let them hear it, he said he didn't have it but his buddy did, so they asked him to pass it along... and after a few back-and-forths, here they were.
"So they haven't actually heard the songs yet, but for some reason, they think I've got an eye for picking winners. Like, 'We can trust Kyung-wook on this' vibe."
"Look at you, Mr. Big Shot now."
"I've always been a big shot. How long you gonna stick with indie? Time to snag a stable gig..."
"Hey, who’s managing the hottest Korean band of the 2020s? That's right—me, Go Kyung-min. Group Sound ain't indie anymore."
"Fair point."
They bantered like that all the way up to the office. The A&R staffer they met—introduced as the deputy head of a specific idol team—said, "You could've just emailed it."
"Yeah, but I wanted my friend to hear it too... and folks from small labels like ours don't get to peep at places like this often. Figured it'd motivate me. That's the pitch."
Kyung-min shot back cheerfully at the subtle why bother showing your face? undertone. A flicker of pity and superiority crossed the guy's face. Clearing his throat, he said, "Well, shall we give the track a listen?"
Kyung-min plugged the USB into the PC right away. Out poured the music—Suyeon had said, "I just recorded it as it flowed and shelved it," so it was bare-bones: 4/4 drums and bass, topped with a soft, squishy guitar touch. It meandered freely yet exploded perfectly at the highlights, making it irresistibly listenable.
Kyung-min glanced at the A&R guy. One finger was tapping the rhythm.
"Hey, this is good."
"Thanks."
"Honestly, I suggested hearing it without high hopes—just something to check via email. Was a bit awkward when you insisted on coming in person. But man, if you hadn't... we'd have missed out big time."
He fidgeted with his hands, clearly bursting to say more. Kyung-min stayed quiet, letting him go.
"Got any more tracks? Hate to decide on just this one. Would love to hear others if possible."
"Yeah, plenty. More in that vein?"
"Not necessarily. Other styles would be fine too. Wait—hold up."
He grabbed the phone. "Yeah, team leader? I'm in my workspace—mind popping over about that track thing? Found something good."
Kyung-min blinked. What the hell? He'd figured: play the songs, kill some time, tour a major agency. How'd it snowball like this?
"That's how it went down."
"Team Leader Go, your network is insane!! And here you are bugging me to hook you up with agency contacts!!"
"It was my buddy's connect, not mine..."
While Jeong Yu-young playfully roasted Kyung-min, Suyeon pieced together what she'd heard. Basically, he'd played the tracks at the major agency, and they wanted to buy a few.
"But why buy my songs? They've got their own composers, a solid A&R team. Mine are just skeletons—bare frameworks. No need to shell out for that."
"I did ask. Biggest reason: the songs are great. And there was more..."
After playing a few, the A&R team leader had explained. With K-pop's core listeners now including folks who missed rock's golden age, rock sounds were creeping into the Korean market from the early 2020s, even influencing K-pop.
And crucially...
"They said our band's part of it too."
"Our band?"
At Yu-young's echo, Kyung-min paused his tale to explain. This was secondhand from them, of course.
"We sold a ton, right? Sold out Jangchung Gymnasium. Truth is, for guy or girl idols, selling out Jangchung—5,000 tickets—means shifting 100k+ albums. Girl groups need 200-300k. Our sales are peanuts compared, but we still pack 5k seats with low numbers... and we're no slouches on streams or mass appeal."
If they'd gone all-in on promo, maybe—but Group Sound's hype was indie-level splashy, major-scene "eh, they did some promo." So every big agency was eyeing their success, per Kyung-min.
"Unprecedented, right? They're dissecting it every which way. That agency seems to be leaning into 'rock music' for their next EP."
"Title track rock too?"
"Didn't hear that. Probably their inner circle knows."
As Yu-young gawked, Suyeon tilted her head. Their success was nudging the market... something like that.
Hyeona was spot on...
Hyeona had said before: "Don't follow the masses' tastes—make the masses follow us."
Suyeon thought it made sense, but only abstractly. Like, we should make it happen. But Kyung-min's story suggested—at least at one agency—the "make them follow" bit was underway. Trends emerge organically from fans and get engineered by creators.
"Selling the songs ain't bad. I don't know much about that stuff... what's the process?"
The two staffers' eyes lit up at Suyeon's words. By their gauge, she seemed weirdly clued-in on this. She knew the industry inside out—customs, practices. But this? Natural blind spot.
Back as Seo Myeongjeon, he'd never bought tracks for albums. With his guitar chops, collab buys might've birthed masterpieces, but he stubbornly chased "success on my songs." No buyers for his stuff anyway, so song-sale processes? Total noob territory.
"Nah, they'll handle arrangement and production. You know arrangement, obviously. Anyway, they want you involved. Their pipeline's slick, but maybe since you're active in a band, they figure one-stop from you is smoother."
"So I go there and work directly?"
"Pretty much."
Suyeon nodded. A major agency. Sucks not bringing the members (they'd flop dramatically begging to tag along), but hey, she was human—curious as hell. How do the big leagues operate?
"How's it sounding?"
"Eh, it's good! Good, but can we brighten it up? Feels brighter in my head, the vocal-wise."
"Mm... got it."
Suyeon hummed idly, guitar across her lap. A melody devoid of intent or feeling filled the booth. Casual vocal line, but the faces beyond the glass perked up.
"This work?"
"Uh... yeah! Perfect! Super good! Um, miss—if it's okay..."
"Go ahead."
"Could you toss in one more variation?"
"Sure, why not."
Toplining—slapping melodies on tracks. Suyeon composed solo, blurring melody, chords, harmony. But this agency's crew split it out, specifically requesting vocal lines.
"Great work. Break time?"
"Yeah."
After roughing out two tracks, she stepped out. Noon already—lunchtime.
"How do you churn 'em out so fast? Prep all this ahead?"
"Nah, no prep."
"This is genius territory. Head spinning. Ditch the band, join our A&R? We'd bend over backward."
Chatter like that as they hit the company cafeteria. Bustling spot, solid menu. Celebs across the way—major league confirmed.
"Cafeteria's the only brag-worthy thing in this shithole company. Food's legit. You're at an indie label, right? Hongdae? How's lunch usually?"
"Weekdays, school cafeteria. Weekends at the office, eat out."
"School? Oh yeah! High schooler. Wild. High school me did jack."
"Boss, don't go there. You'll freeze up."
True to word, the grub was top-tier—top three cafeteria meals of her decades. This why folks grind at majors? She shoveled it down quietly.
"For arrangement... virtual instruments for recording?"
"Nah, band track—real instruments. Thinking sessions... any recs?"
"Uh... no. Wait—if sessions, why not our bandmates? No need for outsiders."
"Yes! Perfect for us—cohesive, chemistry. Sold!"
But if we're doing that...
Suyeon voiced a sudden idea. Staff cheered it. She opened her mouth again, then paused. A thought flashed:
I'm writing, arranging... our kids on sessions... why not just collab?