Bittersweet Jazz Doubts
Even in the middle of playing piano for the government-supported project, a sudden thought would strike. Was it right for me to say that? Should I have just said I couldn’t do it? When that hit her, she’d bang her head against the desk and mutter self-reproachfully, “Ugh, I shouldn’t have said anything…” A few minutes later, she’d rally with, “No, I said it because it seemed doable!” Then she’d try piecing together a melody, only to regret it again and bang her head once more. That had become Jeong Hyeona’s recent routine. At school, she racked her brain over melodies. During practice, she couldn’t even focus properly. And asking the others for help? She’d boldly volunteered herself, so she couldn’t bring herself to request assistance.
Why did I do that? But consider this: everyone else was contributing to the band in their own ways. Choi Iseo with her signature cheerfulness, Yoo Seoha with her indie band experience. Ha Suyeon went without saying. But Hyeona herself? Of course, the real Group Sound members didn’t think of her that way at all. But thanks to that classic low self-esteem misconception… she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was just holding down her spot without any real presence. That’s why, even knowing it was a stretch… the moment she realized it was a field where she could shine, she’d boldly thrown her hat in. Sure, the result was dozens, hundreds of regrets.
Well, even Hans Zimmer takes commissions and then regrets it thinking why did I do this? So for someone like me, it’s gotta be fine… Hyeona consoled herself that way. Well, it couldn’t be helped.
“I’m music director Park Hwisek.”
“Hello…”
A few days earlier, during the meeting to create the OST. The music director had said back then, “It’s not common to meet in person like this with a composing team.” Usually, it was just emails or messengers. But the reason he’d come for a face-to-face was obvious at a glance. The camera crew trailing behind him. Just as Suyeon had said, it was about milking the “four high school girl band” for OST marketing.
Well, can’t be helped. That’s what Hyeona thought. She wasn’t the type whose face couldn’t be shown on YouTube or anywhere public, and fame would only boost her arts college admissions. All good, right?
“The drama’s pre-production is wrapped. We’re not one of those script-by-scene outfits, so the full script’s already out, and we’ve got a rough idea of where your music fits. Can’t show you the whole thing, of course.”
Hwisek slid a sheet of paper across. It was neatly formatted, packed with details on specific scenes—protagonist guy clashing with the girl lead, tension building in the standoff, blah blah blah.
Scene Summary
Male lead and female lead in opposition.
Tension rises through their standoff.
Subtle conflict, unspoken emotions bubbling under.
“So, what kind of track should we make for you?”
At Suyeon’s question, Hwisek scratched his chin lightly and spoke.
“Hm… Something melancholic, a bit sweet-bitter, with a touch of tension but still sticky and tickly, like a jazz-flavored lovers’ spat.”
“Pardon?”
Hyeona felt like she’d heard alien gibberish. What the hell was that? Melancholic, sweet-bitter, this that and the other? What’s that supposed to mean, you weeb?
“Uh… I’m not quite getting it.”
“Like, there’s this situation, right? The leads are sneakily comic but tense? They’re just starting to like each other but don’t know it yet, both scrambling for the upper hand.”
Hyeona started to say, “Even put that way, I don’t…” but Suyeon cut her off, carrying on the conversation with the director. Meanwhile, Hyeona wondered, If Somatnim were here, would she get it better?
“Anyway, just whip up something like that. Payment: melody and concept approved once, advance paid; full track delivered, balance paid. Time’s tight—stick to the schedule we gave. Copyright: you keep the credits, we own the rights. Royalties default—you as composers/performers get 16%.”
After rattling off the fine print, Hwisek leaned in gravely for his final point.
“I don’t know bands. You girls handle that. But for drama OSTs, I’m the expert.”
“Yes.”
Yeah, people die without water. What’s with the obvious crap? Hyeona snarked inwardly. Suyeon, meanwhile, responded earnestly. Pleased by her attitude, Hwisek smiled contentedly and continued.
“What’s the most important thing in a drama OST?”
“Uh… Immersion elements?”
“Good answer. But more than that… it’s conveying the emotions the leads can’t voice or show through actions.”
Surprisingly solid advice—Hyeona perked up her half-closed ears. Hwisek sipped his coffee as if his throat were dry, then went on.
“Take that scene, for example. What’s the character thinking? I don’t wanna go. But I want you to come. Spell it out in the script? Too cheesy. But as background OST? Viewers separate it from the scene yet link them intuitively.”
He explained a few more times like that before leaving the café. Mostly vague fluff until that last bit, but it gave Hyeona a slight grasp.
“How’d it go? Think you can do it?”
“Um… Yeah, I think so.”
Seeing Hyeona say that, Myeongjeon thought it’d gone well. He’d worried the PD was just spouting clouds, but glad she got it.
“Still, something’s bugging me.”
“What?”
At Myeongjeon’s prompt, Hyeona hesitated. What’s with her? Did that Hwisek creep send sleazy vibes? Trying something with a high school girl?
“I don’t really get the vibe of ‘mutual crush, melancholic love’…”
“Why’s that?”
“I’ve never liked anyone…”
Ah, right. Myeongjeon scratched his head. Love’s hard to grasp without experience. But at that age, don’t most have some crush or fling? Some unknown quote: Love is devil, fire, heaven, hell. Pleasure and pain, sorrow and regret dwell together. His own life to a T. Thinking back, his youth was sleep, guitar, or dating—nothing else. About to draw from his rich history for advice, he snapped his mouth shut.
Has this kid even dated? Rummaging through memories, nothing stood out. She just toyed with guys for fun? Enjoyed toying with their looks, but never serious relationships.
“Suyeon-ssi… have you had that kind of experience?”
“Huh?? Uh, um, well… uh, um, er…”
Caught off-guard, Myeongjeon floundered. What to say? Base it on past life? That’s a lie. But he had to advise. Saying so meant lying. Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t.
As the simple melody track ended, Myeongjeon hit the button to unmute the mic.
“Sounds good.”
“Really? Thank you…”
The line Hyeona had brought as complete? Pretty solid by Myeongjeon’s lights. Clear structure, a seductive whisper of a melody.
“Problem is turning this into a full song.”
“Just finish it, right? Any special issues?”
“I’ve listened to some classical and jazz… but is what I make really that? Kinda feels off.”
Myeongjeon chuckled quietly where she couldn’t hear. Classic creator’s dilemma. Is this right? Rock? Blues? Metal? Young folks’ top worry.
“Genres aren’t made then labeled. Create first, label after.”
“Huh?”
Myeongjeon scooted closer to the desk for detail. His breath rustled the mic faintly.
“Hwisek didn’t mean make actual classical/jazz. He wants it to sound that way to viewers. Don’t overthink. If others say it’s good, that’s enough.”
“Oh…” Hyeona replied, then continued. “But even so, on arrangement… I don’t know how to flesh it into a real track.”
“Arrangement? Band gig anyway—we’ll do it together.”
Myeongjeon said that, though he’d end up handling most. Fun to delegate to Iseo or Seoha, but this was their first band commission. No risking screw-ups or bad reviews. Kids had talent, but safer his hands-on. Cleanest that way.
“Don’t worry. I’ll make it so anyone hearing it raves.”
“Whoa… this track slaps?”
Not a full live band recording—just MIDI demo, raw and clear. Still, drums hitting just right in spots, bass with smooth touch, guitar. Keyboard locking down the lines. Guide vocal pitched low—better that way. Backing band solid, melody structured tight… Voice easing the “tension” Hwisek ordered. If no singer locked, he’d want this voice for vocals.
Damn, exceeding expectations… Hwisek thought. He’d figured decent from session skills and band tracks—safe quality. Meh band tune, done. Making-of footage, girl band recording, interviews for buzz. That was the plan.
“Pretty good, huh? These the high school girls that director mentioned? The ones filming making-of?”
“Yup. Just MIDI demo, but way better than hoped.”
That guitarist’s session skills were shocking. If unrestrained, could’ve eaten Prof. Chae Hogun’s decades. Bass a bit weak, but keys and drums solid too… Add good lyrics?
“This’ll blow up for sure. Sehyung-ah.”
“Yes?”
“Tell that Lee PD—no, I’ll call.”
Staff call lacked weight—he’d do it himself. After rings, irritated voice.
“Hey~! Lee PD! Park Hwisek here. Shoot not going smooth today? Nah, not that. Our OST? We got a banger. Recording started? Nah. Demo’s in—you gotta hear this, it’ll blow your mind.”
Hwisek chattered, testing waters. Needed their OK first.
“Anyway, calling ‘cause we’re hunting pre-release OST track? How’s this one? Yeah. Singer undisclosed—no, track alone slays. Why no reveal? Unannounced drops hit harder when singer unveils with it. Where you at? If free now, I’ll swing by and pitch direct…”