Chapter 41
...He’s going to arrange it right here, on the spot?
For that to be possible—
Does improvising an arrangement mean he’s designing the chord progression for the modulation section in real time, inside his head?
As if answering that question, Shotgun’s fingers began to move.
“...”
“...”
“...”
All three of them sucked in a breath at the same time.
The final chord in D minor rang out, and before its resonance had fully faded, the key dropped by a semitone.
One note, then another.
A staircase appeared.
Holy...
A descending modulation.
A bridge that slid from D minor into C-sharp minor.
At the point where Nova’s verse ended, the piano descended alone.
The audience would not consciously notice it.
But when Aella’s vocals began over C-sharp minor, the key would already have dropped by a semitone.
Miles, goosebumps rising across his skin, asked,
“...Can you put that straight into notation?”
Without answering, Shotgun sat down in front of the monitor and opened the piano roll in FL Studio.
He began entering the chord progression he had just played as MIDI notes.
“Oh, and I think a sus4 would make this part feel more like fog.”
(Translator’s Note:sus4 Chord — A suspended chord in which the normal third is replaced by the fourth scale degree. Because it omits the note that normally establishes a chord as major or minor, it creates an unresolved, floating quality until resolution.)
“Like fog?”
Come to think of it, that was what he had said.
When Shotgun first gave his opinion, he had not simply described it as a staircase.
He had called it a staircase growing darker and darker as it led into the fog.
...Was this what he meant?
Nova hurriedly cut in.
“I think he means the floating feeling of a sus4. Right, Shotgun?”
“Yeah.”
“A note hanging there without resolving. Right, Shotgun?”
“Yeah.”
“Something with blurred outlines, like fog. Right, Shotgun?”
“...Good.”
Miles and Aella stared at the two of them as though they were ridiculous.
They played the MIDI sequence that had just been revised on the spot.
The transition section flowed.
At the end of Nova’s verse, the piano began descending. The sus4 floated beneath it like fog, and then Aella’s part approached.
“...That’s insane.”
Aella stared in admiration.
“That transition just now—it makes my entrance feel completely natural. It’s like the song was designed this way from the beginning.”
Miles ran a hand across his dry lips as he organized the changes.
He improvised a modulation section, immediately converted it to MIDI, then discussed tension notes and finished the whole thing. This entire process took fifteen minutes.
Normally, that amount of arrangement work would take at least two days and possibly as long as a week.
He had finished it right here, on the spot.
That guy’s a monster.
Meanwhile, Nova glanced sideways at Shotgun.
Expressionless.
Sunglasses.
There was no way to read any emotion from that face.
...I can’t tell whether he’s satisfied or unhappy.
If Shotgun would just say, “Good job,” Nova could at least relax.
But Shotgun was not the kind of person who said things like that.
“Let’s try it again with the transition revised.”
Nova steadied his breathing and launched into the first verse.
His flow raced over D minor.
The moment the final line of the verse ended—
The piano descended.
One note at a time, like stepping down a staircase.
From D to C-sharp.
Then Aella’s vocals came in.
If I never wake up, would you stay?
...!
The point that had previously felt abruptly cut off now flowed naturally downward.
Aella seemed to feel it as she sang, and a sense of ease entered her vocals.
With more space in her breathing, she now had room to carry emotion through it.
So let me sleep a little longer, longer.
The final note faded away.
Aella smiled brightly and gave him a thumbs-up.
“That was incredible, Shotgun.”
“...”
“Can’t you answer me?”
“...Yeah.”
Work on Last Mile was in full swing at J-Rackz’s studio.
J-Rackz had gone to perform at The Vault, so it was just Park Geon and Jay.
“But seriously, how did you come up with the idea of using footsteps for the intro?”
Jay asked.
“In American prisons, the final corridor a death-row inmate walks down on the way to the execution chamber is called the Last Mile. If those footsteps become the first bar of the beat, your story starts from the intro, Jay.”
“...Wow. I didn’t realize the title could have a double meaning like that. I only called it that because the last part of a delivery route is called the last mile...”
The final stretch of a delivery man’s route.
The final corridor of a condemned prisoner.
The irreversible road traveled by a man who escaped the Bloods.
“...Thank you. I can’t believe you read this deeply into my story.”
Park Geon shrugged.
“Then pay me back by doing even better.”
“Yeah! I’ll go in right now.”
“Could you stop acting cute?”
“...Yeah.”
As Jay entered the booth, he thought back over the beat he had just heard.
I still have trouble believing sometimes that this guy is ASD and Shotgun at the same time.
Because they were so different.
The styles of music he made.
They continued working late into the night.
The verse was revised, and the hook was refined.
Jay rapped, Park Geon cut away the excess, then Jay rapped again, and Park Geon built it back up.
Around three in the morning, the final take was finished.
Three minutes and forty-two seconds.
Last Mile.
They played the entire track.
From the footsteps in the intro to the fade-out in the outro.
Step. Step. Step—
Thud.
“...”
“...”
When the song ended, the two looked at each other as though they had arranged it beforehand.
Then, as though they had arranged that too, each placed a hand on the other’s shoulder.
“Th-this is insane!”
“This is fucking incredible!”
Once the mastering was complete, it would be ready for release.
“So... it’s finished?”
“Yeah. It’s done. Good work.”
Jay was overcome with emotion.
“This is really... my first song.”
“That’s right.”
“The first song being released under my own name.”
“I know.”
“Aaagh, is this really happening?”
Jay grabbed his hair with both hands and bounced his ass up and down in the chair.
It was the day of the performance.
His stomach had been twisted into knots since morning.
He could not eat anything.
Fuck, I’m seriously nervous as hell.
Of course, he had performed onstage at Soundwave before.
But the nervousness he felt now could not even be compared to then.
If I screw up, I’ll ruin Big Joe’s brother’s final work with my own hands.
Mama Rose was even sitting in the audience.
Little K’s mother had come to hear her son’s final song.
“Yo, man of the hour!”
Lil D grinned and held out his fist.
The lineup for today’s show included Lil D and other Crips-affiliated rappers.
And the finale would be When I Wake Up.
“Shotgun.”
Nova approached him.
He was holding two bottles of water.
“Here. I thought you might get thirsty.”
“...Thanks.”
“I’ll give it everything I have onstage. So don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried.”
“OH...!”
Lil D glanced sideways at them, then subtly bumped Nova with his shoulder.
“Make sure you watch my stage properly too, Shotgun.”
“Why did you just shove me?”
“You’re the one who got pushed.”
“What?”
While the two of them bickered, his phone vibrated.
[Aella: Can you come out for a minute?]
[Aella: Dressing room at the end of the hall.]
He had already been looking for an excuse to get away because being surrounded by gang members was making him uncomfortable, so the timing was perfect.
At the end of the hallway, he pushed open the dressing-room door.
It was a small room.
One mirror, one sofa, one light.
“You came?”
He closed the door.
Naturally, he took off his sunglasses.
“And now you’re back to...”
“Yeah?”
“...You don’t have two personalities or something, right?”
“?”
“Never mind. Ignore what I just said.”
I sat down beside Aella and asked,
“Why are you here alone?”
“Honestly, I’m a little scared. That place is crawling with gangsters. At least out of everyone there, you’re the most...”
“The most?”
“Ah, forget it. Anyway.”
Aella cleared her throat.
“What do you think about Nova?”
“A talented and nice rapper?”
“But I don’t think that’s necessarily how he sees it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, I definitely noticed it in St. Louis.”
Aella continued with a serious expression.
“Do you think Nova likes you? He always seems nervous whenever he’s standing in front of you.”
“...Pfft!”
Ah, fuck.
I burst out laughing.
“Hey, I’m being serious.”
“Forget that. Show me pictures of Mio.”
“It’s Mew, not Mio.”
Aella pressed her shoulder against mine and showed me her phone screen.
There was a picture of a gray cat tightly clutching a feather toy between both front paws.
“Haha, look at those back legs.”
“Right? This angle is the cutest.”
Aella smiled as she swiped through the pictures.
Mew sleeping, Mew eating, Mew looking out the window.
Still, strangely enough, sitting here like this made me feel the tension gradually leaving my body.
Aella suddenly looked at me.
“Shotgun, I like you the way you are right now.”
“...”
That wasn’t something I could control.
It wasn’t like I was doing it on purpose.
Cabin had never made an official announcement.
So everything was still just rumor.
DJ Cabin was returning.
He had completed Little K’s final work.
It would be revealed for the first time during today’s live performance.
As rumors did, the story grew bigger and bigger.
—So the rumors about Cabin coming back were true.
└I heard the first reveal is going to be live?
└It’s already sold out.
└So Cabin is really making a comeback after twenty years?
Of course, there were complaints too.
—Honestly, isn’t today’s show just an excuse to shove a bunch of Crips rappers down our throats?
└Other than Lil D, I don’t even know who the rest of them are.
└The Crips label is smart. They’re using Cabin’s comeback as an excuse to promote their own rappers.
Still, in the end, everyone who wanted to come showed up.
DJ Cabin’s return.
That alone was enough to fill the venue.
The show began as the opening DJ dropped the beat.
The Crips-affiliated rappers took the stage one after another.
The reaction was lukewarm.
Some people did nothing but play with their phones.
Whispers of, “When is Cabin coming out?” could be heard throughout the venue.
Then—
“Yo, were you waiting for me?”
Lil D took the stage.
The atmosphere changed instantly.
As the intro to Drive began, the floor started to boil with excitement.
“Drive on the top! Drive on the top!”
When the hook came around, the entire audience began singing along.
Holding the microphone, Lil D launched into the C-Walk—the Crip Walk.
He bit his lower lip as his body moved in a loose, fluid rhythm.
“Wow, Lil D is fucking incredible!”
“Sheeeesh! His live performance is this good?!”
“Those dance moves are insane!”
Lil D’s turn came to an end.
His face soaked with sweat, he gripped the microphone.
After sweeping his gaze across the audience, he delivered one meaningful warning.
“The elderly, the weak, and pregnant women probably shouldn’t watch the next stage. You might collapse.”
With that, he left the stage.
“Collapse?”
“Is the song supposed to be that good?”
“Cabin’s finally coming out!”
Expectation shot through the roof.
Murmuring spread across the entire venue like a wave.
In the VIP seats, Big Joe sat with his arms crossed.
Mama Rose was seated beside him.
“I wonder how Kiki’s final song was completed.”
“You can look forward to it. I trust that guy.”
“Oh, Lorenzo. Look at you. You’ve finally learned how to say things like that.”
Then it happened.
Thunk. Thunk-thunk. Thunk-thunk—
The lights began going out one by one.
Murmurs spread through the audience.
Then everything went black.
The entire venue sank into darkness.
Only the sound of the audience breathing remained.
And within that darkness—
“Yo, C, we doin’ this?”
Little K’s voice flowed from the speakers.
Instant goosebumps rose across everyone’s skin.
“Oooooh!”
“That’s Little K’s voice!”
“This is insane!”
“Wait, is this the intro?”
“Damn, Cabin is crazy!”
The murmuring spread like ripples.
But the next moment, the venue fell silent again.
There was the sound of a button being pressed.
Then a familiar voice cut in.
“Just rap, K.”
“It’s Cabin!”
“That legendary voice!”
“OHHHHH!”
Cheers erupted, then quickly died down again.
Little K’s voice had continued.
“Yo, hold on, hold on—I got somethin’.”
The audience held its breath.
The voice of a dead rapper was returning to life through the speakers.
“Had a dream last night. That I woke up.”
“Ain’t that some shit? Dreaming about waking up.”
The atmosphere inside the venue changed.
The people who had been talking fell silent.
The hands raising phones into the air stopped moving.
“Maybe ’cause when I’m awake, it don’t feel real. You know, I’ve been anxious lately.”
“Is this... a recording?”
“Sounds like a studio session. From when Cabin and Little K were working together.”
“This recording is twenty years old?!”
“But yo—if I never wake up... was I dreaming, or was I finally living?”
“Damn, I’m getting all philosophical and shit. C, you got that?”
Laughter burst from the audience.
At the same time, some people’s eyes grew hot with tears.
They were laughing while crying.
Because a dead man was making jokes.
Someone shouted from the darkness.
“K!”
That single cry lit the fuse.
“K!”
“LITTLE K!”
“WE LOVE YOU, K!”
“WE STILL LOVE YOU!”
The roar came crashing in like a wave.
Some people were already wiping away tears.
Others clenched their fists and looked up toward the sky.
The older generation of hip-hop fans who remembered Little K.
The people who had grown up in the hood listening to his music.
And the younger generation who knew nothing about Little K but had come after hearing the news of Cabin’s return.
At that moment, all of them were breathing the same air.
“Little K! Little K!”
“LEGEND!”
“Cabin! Get out here already! Start DJing!”
Cheers exploded.
People stomped their feet and screamed.
The floor of the venue trembled.
Then—
Flash—
A single powerful beam of light fell onto the stage.
A pin spot.
White light plunged vertically downward.
Beneath that light stood a grand piano.
And sitting there—
was an Asian man in sunglasses, his expression completely blank.
Silence fell.
Within that silence, he placed his hands on the keys.
The sound of the piano began to flow, alone.
Thousands of people had expected Cabin.
And every single one of them had been wrong.
WHEN I WAKE UP
But at that moment, no one was looking for Cabin.