Songwriting Commission
Sudden thought, but Suyeon seemed pretty decent at it. She composed it herself, arranged it herself, and I'd heard that when it came time for recording, she'd handle the session too. And if our bandmates jumped in for the session work, what reason was there not to make it a collab?
"There's something I'd like to discuss briefly."
So that's what Suyeon decided to say. During a short break,
"Since we're already at this point, how about we go ahead with a collab?"
She floated the idea, and the two staffers who had been shaping the song's framework froze a bit upon hearing it.
"A collab, you say..."
"I mean, the way things are shaping up, it kinda feels like... well, whatever idol group ends up using this track, our band would be all over it anyway. I was thinking, why not just make it an official collab? It'd be good for both sides, right?"
But unlike Suyeon, who figured it was a win-win on the surface, the two staffers seemed to see it differently. To be precise, the A&R deputy looked agreeable, but the team leader was clearly negative.
"Well... it's not a bad point."
"So?"
"But collabs aren't something we can decide on our end. Sure, I have some authority, but this involves another company and promo strategies, so it's hard for me to say anything definitive."
"Yeah, I suppose that's true."
Suyeon tilted her head slightly. A little disappointing. It seemed like something they could greenlight on the spot. But it was a perfectly natural outcome. In her past life, she'd never worked at a big company—everything ran on backroom deals—and now she was with what amounted to a family-run "shitty small business," one of the hallmarks of Label Echo Sound. No matter her soul's age, she had no clue how decision-making worked in a massive corporation.
"Still, I think it's pretty feasible, don't you...?"
"Hmm..."
Of course, the A&R team leader saw it as a solid plan too. Group Sound was undeniably a rising star. They might not sell albums like idol groups or have that massive fandom, but they'd sold out Jangchung Gymnasium—a band that pulled that off. And a collab? Mutual support at its finest.
But the team leader knew exactly how corporate decision-making ground along, which was why he was against it. Office politics, in the end. Even if there were clear gains for them, the moment someone said, "Why do a favor for someone else?" it'd get shelved. That's why he had no choice but to say,
"We'll consider it."
'Ah, we're screwed.' That's what Suyeon thought upon hearing it. She might not know how big corps ticked, but in the wider world, "We'll consider it" usually meant "Thanks for the suggestion," or "No," or "Impossible." They couldn't outright reject it, so they sugarcoated.
"Ah, got it. Shall we get back to work, then?"
"Yeah, let's do that."
And so the three dove back into the track. Company business wasn't decided overnight, after all. The team leader treated it like "just floating an idea," and Suyeon like "just mentioning it to Team Leader Go."
A few days later.
"Suyeon, did you happen to bring up the collab when you went in for the songwriting?"
"Oh, that. I meant to, but I forgot. I did mention it, but they weren't keen, so... I was gonna ask you to bring it up with the team leader, but it slipped my mind."
After that day, she'd been swamped, forgetting to loop in Team Leader Go on the collab. But with a vague "We'll consider it," it wasn't top of mind anyway, she excused herself. No point pushing something doomed.
"Hmm... but I just got word—they want to proceed after discussions?"
"Huh?"
Aurora. The girl group Cream Entertainment was pushing—pronounced like the natural phenomenon, apparently, but whatever. A "4th-gen" group. From the Korean perspective of ranking everything sexually or by tiers, they landed around Tier 2, top 1-2 depending on the critic—three years in, fresh-faced.
But that was just online know-it-alls coughing and lining up their hot takes. In reality, they'd sold 500k first-week copies and nailed a world tour. Domestic concerts sold out Jangchung too (not that "sold out" meant all 5,000 seats). Solid fandom, no doubt.
Of course, their road wasn't all sunshine. One member was the "prettiest in idols" buzz, but flip it—the rest lacked standout traits... or so Jeong Yu-young had laid out.
"Is this reliable intel?"
For the first time ever, Suyeon eyed Jeong Yu-young suspiciously. Hard to buy—a group moving hundreds of thousands of albums, lacking mass appeal or uniqueness? Cut the jokes.
"My analysis, sure! But it's all backed up! Check this data..."
She handed over a report crammed with pro-level breakdowns. Suyeon skimmed it, thinking. Right, she came from a major agency.
"Where'd you work before, Manager Jeong? I think I heard, but..."
"Ah! Mupl! Music Planet."
Mupl. Even in her Seo Myeongjeon days, one of the "Big Four" agencies. Made sense why the scatterbrained-looking Jeong Yu-young crushed it—those roots. Probably cooked up reports like this back then.
"Anyway, the word I got was 'let's push forward positively.' Felt more sincere than the usual lip service. We'll hash out terms, and if it flies, we're good."
Suyeon nodded at Team Leader Go Kyung-min's update. Whatever happened, no skin off her back. Group Sound had their own tracks lined up; this was surplus. Collab for promo? Great. Sell it off otherwise? Cash in hand. Win-win either way.
"Your EP tracklist's changing."
"Pardon??"
Rare schedule-free day. Harin and the Aurora girls were lounging at the dorm, shaking off rainy-season mold under the sun. Then a sudden "come to the office," and the manager's bombshell right off the bat.
Just recently, she'd heard it was locking in—a solid track. Hadn't heard the full set, but the title alone screamed city pop, her jam. High hopes.
"Out of nowhere?"
"Yeah, not confirmed, but heading that way."
"What? Wasn't it done?"
"Outfits and concept all set..."
The four behind Harin murmured. She glanced back, scratched her head. They'd gripe but not speak up.
"This sudden switch... it's tough for us too."
"What's hard about it for you? Company's call in the end."
"We picked that concept too."
"I get it, but decisions come from above. Telling me won't help. I'm baffled too."
The manager muttered, "That Park bastard..." Probably the A&R guy. Their side pushed the change?
"And related—this EP's going collab concept."
"What?? Collab?? With who??"
"No clue. A&R's shoving it. If they want collab, why not produce it themselves, fucking hell."
The manager grumbled, lit a smoke, and bailed. Then the members erupted: "Collab?", "Weird...", "What collab?", "What's col-lab?"
Why hold back earlier? Harin sighed it off. Business as usual.
"Who we collabing with? Other label kids?"
"If so, wouldn't make the whole EP collab-themed."
"Not the hip-hop posers, right? Hate those. Always flexing cash. Grandma died to an AK47 or some shit."
"What're you on about?"
"Suryeon, quit the net. Phone's rotting your brain with weird crap. Not posting that bubble nonsense, right?"
"Me...? Totally not~"
Harin shut her eyes at the squirming member's face. What to do with these kids. And going forward?
Aurora's future? Dim, in her view. Albums sold well, tour crushed, but that was it. No one matched her fame; they just chirped from her shadow, no initiative. Cute, sure, but bad for biz.
'That's why I was pumped for this track...' Mass-appeal title shot. Low difficulty too—could shut down the "Aurora live skills lol" trolls. Golden chance, gone.
'What track now.'
Harin propped her chin, glaring across the empty table, displeased. Kids poked her cheeks to cheer her; no mood to react or swat.
'And whatever losers... no, group it is. Without them, no collab, track stays. Obscure or trash tune—pray it's nothing. I'll flop on the CEO's floor, say we can't go on like this.'
Office drone fantasy. 'Or bitch 'em out on sight—piss 'em off to cancel? Better. "Can't work with her!" Boom, scrapped. But they might come yell? Then flop then.'
Harin was deep in it: her sprawled before the CEO's office, him coaxing; A&R weeping apologies, grasping Aurora's worth; manager and #1 handler showering gifts. Mood-lifter just imagining.
"Unnie's at it again."
"Let her. Needs the stress relief."
The members tsked at Harin's blissed-out face. Sharp as ever, but these moments...
Long story short, Harin's "bitch-out-to-cancel" scheme flopped.
Because Harin herself...
"Gasp!! Group Sound!! That's her, right?! Suryeon, that's really her? Not seeing things? For real?!"
"Yes, so calm down, unnie."
"Uh... yes, it's me. Ha Suyeon of Group Sound. Nice to meet you..."
"Whoa, insane. Even the 'dayo'! Suyeon-unnie! Sign please? Pretty please!"
Explosive reaction the second Suyeon walked in for collab talks. So sudden, Suyeon's speech reverted—unleashing the sealed Black Flame Dragon, "Dayo High School Girl," vowing never again.
"Aren't you older than me?"
"What? Pretty, cool—unnie anyway! Please! One pic! Got the limited badge too! Snagged off flea market 'cause missed live!"
Suyeon tilted her head. What the hell. Grown woman acting up in public. Whoever she was, tonight's blanket session was locked in.