Did You Buy the Label?
"Did you... buy the label?"
Myeongjeon couldn't help but shoot back in disbelief at Hyein's words. No matter how wealthy Hyein was, could she really afford to buy a whole company with her personal funds?
"Ah, to be precise, I didn't exactly buy it. It's not like I purchased it outright—I just made a pretty substantial investment..."
Wearing an expression like she hadn't expected this reaction, Hyein explained what she'd done.
1. Seeing Suyeon dive into her music activities sparked Hyein's own interest in the industry.
2. It seemed like a business with solid profit potential if you picked the right talent—and it didn't require massive upfront capital.
3. Why not acquire a label to promote Suyeon while diversifying her business portfolio?
That was the gist of Hyein's reasoning, leading to this outcome.
"Isn't that basically the same as buying it?"
Was this the heart of a doting mother, or a businesswoman's instinct? Was it okay to let personal feelings mix into business decisions like this? He'd seen some YouTube video about how the KOSPI got undervalued due to "owner risk" or whatever. Wasn't this exactly that kind of thing?
"I told you, I didn't buy it! Suyeon, honey. Mom just made an investment. An investment in the future."
"Is it really just an investment in the future?"
"...Fine, let's say I bought it."
Hearing Hyein's sullen admission, Myeongjeon mulled it over. What mother in the world thinks, "Oh! My daughter's doing music—time to buy a record label!" Worry taken too far just becomes interference. You had to let kids grow on their own—how long could you keep babying them? They needed to learn from failure, taste life's bitterness to become adults.
Lost in such idle thoughts, Myeongjeon suddenly had another realization.
Just how much money does 'Mom' actually have?
If Hyein was this loaded, did she really need to grind session gigs for cash? Every time money got tight, she could just say, "Mom, can I have some?" and it'd be, "Of course, Suyeon!" with cash flowing freely.
Myeongjeon shook her head to dispel the notion. 'Mom's' money was 'Mom's' money. She'd accept support if needed, but otherwise, earning her own way was the principled path.
"Anyway, so you're saying you want me to release my EP through them?"
"Exactly. Which is why..."
"Yes?"
"How about you come with me to the label? Truth is, I don't know much about how they operate."
Myeongjeon stared, wondering what that meant, as Hyein elaborated.
On paper, the label's finances looked decent, but to run it properly, some trimming was needed. They had to check internal affairs, assess the staff...
"Call it my bias if you want, but music people can be... you know? They look down on you if you don't 'get' art."
"Can't deny that exists."
"That's why I'd like you to come along. You do music, so you'll speak their language."
Would a Jongno resident really connect with someone from Gangnam? Myeongjeon figured Hyein's logic was about that level, but...
"Got it."
She just went with that.
She eyed the Mercedes S-Class pulling up near the office.
Two people stepped out: a woman who looked like a typical office worker, and a high school girl in uniform.
"The shareholder? Investor? Anyway, they're coming today—get it together, everyone."
"Huh? Why all of a sudden..."
"No idea. They said around quitting time, but I have to head out on an urgent business trip. Just don't screw anything up."
Cursing the president who'd ditched them solo, the team leader prayed the staff wouldn't cause trouble.
Hired too many young kids—some real clueless vibes...
The president had a thing for types who declared, "I'm here to bury my bones in music!" But while they worked hard, everything else was a mess.
"Hello~"
"Yes, hello! Nice to meet you! I'm Team Leader Kim Sookhee."
Greetings from the staff as they entered. Small team: a team leader in her 40s, a handful of 20-somethings. A Lucky Goldstar fan whirring away, a beat-up but functional AC... contrasted by top-tier computers. A starkly impoverished setup.
Definitely not a job for the faint of heart or old of bone.
Myeongjeon recalled her old days. Even back then, label employees didn't rake in the cash. But those who stuck it out despite the squeeze usually burned with a conviction to contribute to the music world.
Admirable, maybe. Foolish, probably. Throwing your life away, right?
"Have a seat here! Sorry about the coffee... we don't have much. Jonghyeok! Run to Twosome and grab some."
"No need~ We're fine."
"Nonsense, not with an investor here. Americano? Cafe latte? Latte it is. And for your daughter?"
Myeongjeon answered and scanned the office again. Meanwhile, Hyein handed over her card.
"Our president's out on a trip today. If we'd known, we wouldn't have let him go..."
"No worries. Just wanted to glance at some docs and grab a coffee."
As they chatted, the staffer returned, setting coffee and a couple desserts on the table—then devouring the rest from the bag themselves.
Is this for real?
Coffee ordered, but desserts? And they pig out? Myeongjeon considered snapping but let it slide. A few bucks on desserts wouldn't faze someone buying a company for her daughter. Sugar rush, probably.
"I heard about your main revenue streams. Mind if I see the related docs?"
"The files are... here, but not organized."
"Just need the big picture. Paperwork misses the nuances."
"Sorry. One sec. Heejoo, print the streaming sales docs."
The team leader frowned at the "not ready" reply. Hyein sipped her coffee and said, "Show us what's available for now."
Let's break it down...
As the team leader and Hyein sorted papers, Myeongjeon pieced together the label's state:
1. Managing around 5,000 tracks via distribution, with about 100 bands/artists under them—30 directly handled.
2. In-house screening by staff—not super thorough, leading to losses.
3. No in-house production team or practice rooms; artists handle their own, with external referrals as needed.
4. Handles indie charts, merch shops, physical production—collaborating with graphic artists.
Lots of fixes needed.
Even to Myeongjeon, it was obvious. What did Hyein think? But ever the professional, Hyein smiled and pivoted to music talk.
"I've invested, but I don't know labels well. What do you mainly handle?"
Unlike her sharp tone on business, her voice softened now—perhaps outside her expertise.
The mood loosened; staff eagerly spilled.
"Filtering incoming contacts is exhausting!"
"Is it?"
"Yeah. Music requires trained ears. 'Sounds good' is for casual easy listening."
"Indie labels like us chase more. Without training, you miss it—gotta listen tons."
Thrilled at the VIP attention, they blabbed on despite the team leader's growing frown.
"You probably don't get it~", "Music folks know this—normies don't.", "Pros all know. Needs training. You'd never tell."
...Subtle digs everywhere. Myeongjeon was floored. Common habit, sure—but to an investor? Ears hadn't seemed that sharp earlier. Linking to the dessert fiasco... staff work ethic was obvious. Hyein might fire them all via severance.
Guess she can overlook the snark then.
But hearing "Try listening? You wouldn't get it..." from her 'mom'? Unbearable.
"Your tone's a bit rude."
"Pardon?"
"Why keep implying we don't get it, but you do? Sneaky way to belittle us."
The 'investor's daughter,' silent till now, spoke up. Staffer Jiwon jumped in to smooth things.
"N-no, it's not belittling..."
"Isn't it? Sounds like it—and do you even qualify?"
Jonghyeok found it absurd. Calling them belittlers while insulting the staff? Like they were fair game?
"But we're right, aren't we?"
"You think so? What part? Screening profits weren't great, from what I heard."
"Sorry. Our staff..."
The team leader apologized at the 'daughter's' words, glaring at Jonghyeok. But pride stung—he'd been willing to apologize to the investor pre-snark.
Wrong was wrong. Investor or not? They didn't know music, right? Did they think they were experts? Respect business from us, music from them. Balance.
"That's harsh."
"You guys are harsh. Even to strangers on the street? To an investor? You don't look that talented anyway."
"Suyeon, honey. Mom's fine."
Hyein tried intervening as tempers flared. But Jonghyeok was all-in—no backing down now. Apologizing would just humiliate.
He'd played guitar back in the day. Now some investor flashes a card and struts? Through her kid, no less.
"If you don't know music, we can say that. Thanks for the investment, but money buys expertise? We don't know everything—do you?"
"Kim Jonghyeok! What the hell? This punk..."
"Music that easy? Spot hits on first listen? Think you're better? Grab that guitar and play."
Hyein chuckled amid the tension. The 'daughter' grabbed the guitar with a deadpan look.
"Then what happened?"
"I played, they shut up. Mood shattered. Later, the president called, groveling to Mom."
"People like that actually exist."
"World's full of weirdos. Wonder why they flock to me..."
Myeongjeon slurped her coffee. Fired? Probably cleanup time. Hyein seemed headed that way anyway.
"Can't be helped. Places like that run on passion and peanuts."
"Who doesn't work cheap?"
Iseo deflated trying to defend strangers. The laughter faded as Myeongjeon replied to Juhyeon's pointless KakaoTalk check-in.
Iseo spoke again. "Kinda admirable, though."
"What? Trashing the takeover boss as a music noob?"
"Nah... that no-backup vibe? Koreans fear the worst instinctively. But they don't even think ahead. Kinda badass?"
Iseo mumbled about consequences. That sparked a song idea for Myeongjeon—living without fearing the fallout.