The Unexpected Session Ace
Open Mic music director Kim Jaehun stared at the girl in front of him, itching for a cigarette. She sat there with her eyes slightly closed, listening intently to the music. She looked like she was in middle or high school—no way was she a senior or a college freshman. Even though she hadn't fully grown out of that childish air, her face had the kind of potential that could land her as an idol or actress once she matured. But music wasn't about looks. Sure, there were fields where faces opened doors, but what Jaehun needed right now was something faces couldn't touch.
That bastard Im Junhong... If he couldn't do it, he should've just said no instead of screwing me over like this? What did I ever do to him?
The drama schedule had been running smoothly until controversy hit one of the supporting actors, derailing everything. The actor was out, and all those scenes had to be scrapped and reshot. The production team pushed to just swap actors and keep the sets, but the writer and main PD saw it differently. Rewrite the whole story, delete the scenes entirely—for the sake of the drama's quality, no choice. Fine, whatever. Who hates hard work? The problem was that music came dead last in the pipeline, leaving Jaehun with a razor-thin timeline.
So I grabbed the first available session musician I could...
He wasn't tight with Im Junhong, but they'd worked together enough times for a favor. Jaehun had called him in, but Junhong had another gig. Anyone else? The good ones he knew were all booked. Oh! There's this cheap, solid player. First time doing sessions, but I guarantee the skill. She'll nail it. Cool if Junhong vouched. Jaehun told him to pass the contact to his guy. Didn't double-check. Junhong was proven, so his rec would be decent enough.
Then he forgot about it—until the guitarist showed up. Jaehun's face soured more by the second, and the staff around him worried about the fallout heading their way. This girl might just get a "If you can't hack it, go home. Fucking Im Junhong..." and be done. But the real explosion would hit them.
Fuck...
Doesn't that Junhong prick have any sense of responsibility?
Isn't she Im Junhong's student or something?
Or did he sleep with her? Pushing her like this. But she's underage, right? Sketchy as hell.
Amid the staff's ridiculous mutterings, Ha Suyeon kept her eyes closed until the music ended. Then she cued it up again. The only change: her hands. Now resting on her lap, they subtly tapped the beat. Every minute felt wasted to Jaehun. He shot a glance at one staffer—find someone new, fast. As that guy slipped away, Suyeon opened her eyes.
"Where's the chord chart? I asked for it earlier."
"This is ridiculous..."
Jaehun grudgingly handed it over. Suyeon set it on the desk, grabbed a pen, and said, "Ready. Let's go."
The track kicked in—a '90s rock ballad OST fitting the retro drama vibe. Vocals started rusty and crooning through the intro and verse, then exploded in the back half. Let's see what she does... The staff leaned in as Suyeon scribbled notes. Her old-school handwriting threw them off.
"This should do it. Composer around?"
She set the pen down like that was that.
"Stepped out for a smoke... just now."
"When he gets back, I'll run it by him. If it's fine, we record straight away. You guys have been on electrics forever, so I brought mine, but I think we need acoustic and nylon too. The MIDI damping's off."
Jaehun nodded to a staffer, half-curious how far she'd go. Big talk—could she back it up? Suyeon pulled out her Fender. One staffer piped up.
"Hey, we have an Anderson..."
"Fender sounds better for this."
"Jeez."
While Jaehun grumbled, Suyeon tweaked her guitar. Then the composer burst in, fresh from his smoke.
"What the—where's Junhong? He said he was coming. Who's this kid?"
"Our star Im Junhong sent her as a sub. Huh? Park, she says she'll record. Claims she can play."
The composer gawked at Suyeon in disbelief. She met his eyes. "Got opinions? Parts to emphasize?"
"Uh, well... From the D bridge, bar 3, build-up ramps..."
"Drive from here then... no, maybe earlier. Bang-bang-bang up."
"Not quite there. Shorter, but punchier and faster."
The composer had dismissed her on sight, but now they were deep in debate.
"So, hold the low end, short stabs like tat-tat-tat?"
"Yeah... that might work?"
The discussion heated up. Staff glances shifted: Wait, is she legit? Suyeon set her pen down.
"Okay. Let's record. Engineer!"
* * *
Headphones on, chart in hand, Suyeon settled in. "Mind if I soundcheck? Effects output good?"
"All set~"
The skeptical stares softened to approval. Newbies to sessions (not that they usually got this far) fumbled—what to play, how to fit the track. They showed up because called, noodled endlessly on vague direction, barely grooved, and bailed. Not Suyeon. First-timer? She acted like decades in: listened, charted lines, incorporated feedback. Experience aside, her pro vibe inspired trust.
"Savvy backing first."
The climax part—savvy. She plucked a few test notes, signaled start. Music rolled. Foot tapping rhythm, she laid simple backing. Strum, strum, strum.
Jaehun listened from the control room. '90s rock ballad peak backdrop, her strums weaving in. Nothing fancy, but... off. Something should feel there, but didn't. Problem? No—that's the problem. Too perfect.
"Seokjun."
"Yeah~ hold on—yes?"
Suyeon signaled end of savvy, next part. Seokjun queued it but paused at Jaehun's word.
"Replay that last take."
"Huh? Sounded fine..."
"Just do it."
Play button hit. Backing clean as could be. Seokjun shrugged—what's the issue?
"Why's the balance perfect?"
"Oh, yeah it is."
One take, no edits. Yet the strums? Flawless from start to finish, like post-processed.
"Good enough for the track as-is."
"Keep going."
Jaehun stepped back. Recording flowed: arpeggios, obbligatos supporting melody, bridge chords, every guitar spot. No stops, despite Jaehun and composer hovering.
"This actually recording right? We hypnotized or something?"
The composer muttered. Jaehun peered through the glass. Suyeon flexed her hands. "Solo setup now." Tinkered with the amp.
"This real?"
"What?"
"Recording this fast."
"Rare as hell."
Composer asked Seokjun, "What's the session's name?"
"Ha Suyeon, I think..."
Jaehun half-listened, pondering. Even Junhong himself wouldn't blaze through like this. Not that he lacked skill—they wouldn't call otherwise. But catching composer notes, suggesting fits, delivering top quality in record time? Junhong capable? Jaehun doubted it. This needed experience.
Drama OSTs promoted the show—familiar, easy listens with fresh twists. Follow genre rules, improv fit on the fly in crunch time. Genius alone? No. Thousands of reps, instinct-honed ears.
And she's doing it. Junhong's rec for a reason. Owe him a drink.
Jaehun grinned, time saved. Forgot cursing Junhong earlier.
"Last, solo."
Setup done, Suyeon plucked twice. Music played. Clean picking flowed—distinct Fender drive tone pouring from the speakers.