The Tie-Up
“Really?”
“Yes... Though they kept insisting throughout the call that nothing has been finalized yet.”
“Doesn't that just mean it is finalized? If it weren't, they wouldn't talk like that. They'd ask if we were okay with it first...”
“Probably.”
Manager Jung's face, usually so cheerful, was clouded with worry. Suyun stared up at the ceiling. What was she even supposed to say? Was "absurd" the right word? Being treated like this...
It's been... well, I can't even remember the last time.
Ever since people started whispering about a young prodigy who played the guitar like a madman, he had never once experienced anything like this. In the session world, at least, he had always held the upper hand. Yet here she was, in the twenty-first century, having crossed the sea to Japan only to run into this nonsense. Before anger or resentment could even set in, she was simply flabbergasted. It felt like overhearing something she was never meant to hear.
“Well... I mean, it might not be a terrible deal, right? For instance, one version for us, one version for them. Couldn't it work out like that?”
“I wish that were the case...” Manager Jung replied, his voice devoid of energy.
Suyun twirled a strand of her hair before speaking to him.
“First, we need to grasp the actual situation, so let's talk to Red Rock again. We need to figure out if the publisher just casually brought it up and Red Rock is overreacting, or if they're pushing so hard that we have no choice but to accept. We need a clear, accurate picture before we make a move.”
In business, understanding the exact situation was paramount. You couldn't just call them up and start screaming without knowing the facts. Suyun believed that once the dust settled, she would figure out a way to untangle the knot. But contrary to her expectations, things began to take a bizarre turn.
"We're also... well, the publisher is pushing us pretty hard on this right now."
“Then what happens to our agreement? Didn't you say Red Rock was producing this anime independently, without a production committee?”
"Actually, that's not quite the case. If you look at the contract, it's a joint venture between Red Rock and the publisher. Up until now, the publisher hadn't made a single demand, but after hearing the song this time, they set this condition... It's a bit awkward for us to just reject it outright."
“If we were going to do a collaboration, we should have done it from the start to avoid all this confusion. What on earth is going on?”
"We don't fully grasp the situation on our end either. We're trying our best to contact them, but... we are deeply sorry."
Red Rock kept hiding behind the excuse that their hands were tied due to the publisher's pressure. To make matters worse, the publisher was playing a highly irritating game—avoiding direct contact with Label Echo Sound while carefully framing their actions to avoid any breach of contract. They used words like "recommendation" or "suggestion" instead of "demand" or "coercion."
“Seriously, what do they expect us to do?”
“I think they want us to back down on our own,” Manager Jung sighed.
“Then they should just say so. But of course, they won't say it directly because of liability and breach of contract, right? Ha, how incredibly underhanded.”
Caught between a rock and a hard place, they watched the frustrating days slip by. What left Suyun even more dumbfounded, however, was when the vocalist requested by the publisher showed up at their studio completely unannounced.
“Uh, is anyone here...?”
Who's that? Is it the neighborhood circular?
Average height. Bobbed hair, a rather handsome face, and a stylish beard that deserved genuine compliments. Thinking a new shop had opened nearby without her noticing, Suyun said, “Are you the new neighbor? You can hand the circular to me.”
But seeing his flustered expression and hearing him speak, she quickly realized this man was the vocalist the publisher was trying to force upon them.
“I'm... Araki Ryosuke from Cake Keychain. Nice to meet you.”
“Oh... nice to meet you. I'm Ha Suyun. But, what brings you here?”
“Well, my agency, Flambe, booked me a rather interesting vocal recording gig. They told me to come over and discuss it, so here I am...”
“Excuse me?”
Suyun stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. She hadn't recognized his face, but the name was certainly familiar. He was the leader of the famous rock band Cake Keychain, active in other projects as well—an artist known for creating incredibly trendy, sensory music. Suyun had actually enjoyed his work and kept an eye on him.
“We haven't received any word about this.”
“...What? What's going on here?”
“I have no idea either.”
Though flustered, Araki Ryosuke figured he should at least do something since he had made the trip. He listened to the tracks they had completed so far—both the vocal and instrumental versions. While it wasn't an official recording, he even hummed along, trying to map out a vocal line.
“I'm sorry, but I think I need to figure out what's happening on my end too. Since our schedule is tight, would it be alright if I took the audio files with me?”
“Sure, I suppose...”
After receiving the files via email, Araki Ryosuke departed. Suyun felt a massive headache coming on. What the hell was actually happening? Were they being asked to act as session musicians, or was this supposed to be a collaboration? The deadline was creeping closer, and the work was progressing, but absolutely nothing was set in stone. Even when she raised her voice at Red Rock and demanded a swift decision... there was ultimately nothing they could do.
I can't let this go on. Not a single thing is running smoothly. It was time to make a decision.
“I'm back.”
“Hey guys, Mom's home! Say hello.”
The moment Suyun announced her return, Choi Iseor sprang up from where she was lounging in the living room and spouted her usual nonsense. Ignoring her, Suyun thudded a plastic bag onto the table in the middle of the living room, where the other three were sprawling.
“What's this?”
With a heavy clink, several condensation-beaded cans spilled out of the bag. Iseor stared at Suyun with wide eyes. Suyun was usually the last person to have anything to do with alcohol. What kind of sudden change of heart was this?
“Let's have a drink tonight. Put these in the fridge. I'm going to wash up.”
Suyun said flatly and slipped into her room to change. The three left in the living room exchanged glances and whispered among themselves.
“Is this... because of that vocalist thing?”
“She said... it would be resolved... Did you... hear anything...?” Jung Hyun-ah asked hesitantly.
“Nope. Only that it's a total shitshow,” Yoo Seoha replied.
Ministop fried chicken, Nissin's Santouka and Ippudo cup ramen, frozen gyoza, and a few other snacks.
“No, I'm telling you guys~ You seriously need to watch TreTre!”
Armed with these snacks, the members of Group Sound drank like there was no tomorrow. They gathered around the table, chatting away until Seoha leaned back against a pile of blankets in the corner of the living room, Iseor sprawled backward with her arms stretched out to stare at the ceiling, and Hyun-ah's usually halting speech became surprisingly fluent.
“Hey.”
Until then, Suyun hadn't said much, only offering brief replies when prompted. Having quietly downed her drinks until her face flushed red, she suddenly spoke up without warning.
“What's up?”
The members instantly sensed it. A major announcement was coming. Although they had stayed out of it because there was nothing they could do, they had seen Suyun stress over this matter countless times.
“I was going to just grin and bear it for Hyun-ah's sake.”
“For me?”
“Because you wanted to do this so badly. I was planning to just fight them on it, force a decision, reject their demands, and keep pushing our work forward...”
Suyun trailed off, then slammed her highball can onto the table. A few drops of alcohol splashed out of the open tab, spraying across the surface.
“Fuck this, I'm done.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Let's just quit. I can't do this. I hate their wishy-washy attitude, and I hate how they act like they can order us around just because they're paying. Do they think we're some cheap session musicians?”
Honestly, if the publisher had engaged with them properly, Suyun might have backed down. It was a project Hyun-ah had set her heart on, and Araki Ryosuke's name carried immense weight. While Group Sound had made waves with eighty thousand first-week sales, Araki Ryosuke's Cake Keychain was a powerhouse that had cleared over two hundred thousand first-week sales for an album three years ago. Strictly speaking, Group Sound had nothing to lose from this collaboration. But the real issue lay elsewhere. It was their attitude—treating them like mere session players and expecting them to blindly follow whatever was decided. And then there was Red Rock, hesitating and refusing to take a firm stand. With nothing decided, Suyun was left to bear all the anxiety alone.
“Is it really okay to just pull out?”
“If we say we're out, what are they going to do? Steal our song and use it illegally? Anyway, I'm done. I'm sorry, Hyun-ah.”
“No, don't be. If you were holding back because of me, I'm the one who should be sorry...”
Suyun let out a deep sigh, looking as though a heavy weight had been lifted from her chest. Hyun-ah offered her hesitant reply.
“So, what's the plan?”
“They treated us like absolute shit, so we'll return the favor. We'll tell them we're quitting, cut all contact, and just focus on our own stuff. People might talk and try to ruin our reputation, but honestly, is Japan the only market in the world? We can keep making music in Korea and then head straight to the US.”
“Yeah. Let's just finish the tour and never come back to Japan. Making music in Korea is way more comfortable anyway,” Iseor agreed.
“The song is amazing, so if we just release it as a standalone single, it'll be a massive hit!” Seoha added.
Their bold statements clearly carried the weight of the alcohol they had consumed. Nevertheless, the members fully supported Suyun's decision. They knew exactly how much their leader struggled and how much she carried on her shoulders for the sake of the band. As the conversation flowed, Seoha threw out a question into the heavy, somber air.
“But if we just say we're out, can we really just walk away? Won't there be a breach of contract penalty?”
“Probably? If we pull out, we're technically the ones breaching the contract. But since there was no advance payment, maybe the penalty won't be that high?” Iseor guessed.
“Looking at the contract, it seems like it could be pretty steep. It says the party at fault has to cover all related expenses,” Suyun said, chugging the rest of her Strong Zero. Feeling the sharp mix of carbonation and alcohol burning down her throat, she muttered, “I'll pay the penalty myself.”
“...Why would you pay all of it? We should split it.”
“Exactly. We're a band, why are you trying to shoulder it alone?”
“Are you just trying to look cool by yourself?”
The members chimed in one by one. Suyun looked at them, feeling a mix of warmth and exasperation, before opening her mouth.
“You guys don't even know how much it's going to be.”
“No matter how much it is, we should—”
“I wouldn't say this if it were a small amount. But I know some of you would be in serious financial trouble if you had to pay this on top of your living expenses. How could I ask you to pay? In times like this, the one who makes the most money should step up.”
Suyun looked at her bandmates. Her mother was the CEO of their agency, she received full royalties for composing and writing lyrics, and she earned more than enough as a session guitarist. But the others were different. Even if they were making decent money now, if a penalty of, say, a hundred million won hit them... some of them would be reduced to eating cup ramen for the foreseeable future. It was far better to use the money Suyun had amassed than to let her bandmates fall into financial ruin.
“But still...”
“Hey!”
“Yeah?”
Iseor tried to protest further, but Suyun cut her off. Cracking open another can of Strong Zero, Suyun took a long swig and spoke.
“When an adult offers to pay for something like this, you just accept it. Why are you trying to embarrass me? Huh? You want to make me look foolish? Just say 'thank you' and sit tight. You young punks, seriously...”
Her voice was starting to slur slightly. Spouting words like "adult" and "young punks," she went on.
“Back in my day, huh? When the adults made a decision, the kids just sat quietly at the dinner table and went, 'Ah, I see~' That was it.”
Technically, whether by birthdate or official age, Suyun was the youngest among them. Yet, the members simply listened to her rant in silence. After all, the one who pays the bills is always the adult.
Bzzz. Bzzz.
A low vibration echoed. Suyun kept her eyes closed, listening to the buzzing. Was no one going to pick up? Was it Hyun-ah's phone? Was Hyun-ah not waking up? But as the buzzing persisted, right next to her head...
“Ah, shit. It's my phone.”
Suyun bolted upright and grabbed the phone. Her head throbbed so violently she couldn't even guess how much she had drunk last night. Besides, this was her first time touching alcohol since that one time she had sipped and immediately spat out a shot of soju right after turning twenty...
Maybe I shouldn't have drunk. No, but last night, I had no choice...
No matter how much money she had saved up, she had essentially made a decision worth tens of thousands of dollars last night. Even for someone like Suyun, it wasn't a choice that could be made sober. She had to drink. Rationalizing it to herself, she looked at the screen. It was an unfamiliar number.
“Hello? Uh... thank you for calling. This is Ha Suyun of Group Sound. Who am I speaking with?”
"Ah, hello. This is Araki Ryosuke from Cake Keychain. I realize I didn't give you my number the other day."
“Ah, hello! Yes... I believe you didn't. But, what can I do for you?”
Slightly startled, Suyun massaged the back of her neck as she sat up. Why was he calling? They hadn't spoken since his visit, and she hadn't heard any updates. Was he trying to schedule a recording session?
“If this is about the recording... I haven't spoken to Red Rock yet, but we've decided not to do the opening theme...”
"Pardon? You're not doing the opening?"
“Yes. The communication has been terrible, and the situation is too muddy. It's frustrating. So we just decided to pull out. We haven't officially told them yet, but...”
Suyun paused, choosing her words carefully. Since things had turned out like this, maybe she should suggest he take over the track entirely? Or perhaps they could pull out of the anime opening but still release the song separately as a collaboration? While she was weighing her options, Araki spoke up.
"Ah... If you're doing that because of my involvement in the recording, you really don't need to."
“Excuse me?”
"After listening to the track and doing that rough recording the other day, I went home and kept listening to it. Honestly, I really wanted to sing it because the song is just so brilliantly written."
“...Yes.”
"But for me to step in would be no different from stealing your spotlight. As an artist, my conscience simply wouldn't allow it. So... yesterday, I spoke to Flambe and asked them to withdraw the proposal to Red Rock. They were probably going to inform you about it today..."
“...What?”
Suyun asked again, wondering if she had misheard. But the explanation that followed proved that her ears had not deceived her.
"But it's true that I'm still very greedy for this song... So, if you're comfortable with it, how about we keep your original version as the A-side for the TreTre opening theme, and then we can work on an additional joint collaboration to release as a B-side single? What do you think?"