Muse
In the end, the free-topic discussion went off without a hitch as well.
The boss, who had swaggered about showing me what a true menace looked like, had been brought to her knees.
"Grrk! Auntie clearly said you spent a whole year cooped up in your room—so why are you this well-spoken?!"
"Not seeing another soul for a year doesn't exactly render a person incapable of speech, you know."
"Still, this isn't fair! Did you actually spend that year streaming or something, instead of rotting away in your room?!"
"Haa... I hesitate to even say this, but shouldn't you be the happy one here, Boss?"
"W-well, of course I should... but it still ticks me off!"
This woman is our boss...?
Beside me, the manager's gaze toward the boss had grown distinctly disrespectful. I couldn't help wondering whether she'd find a knife in her back from her own staff sooner or later.
"Boss. All the same, for us this is news too good to be true."
"I know, I know... Phew. Fine, I'll admit it. Seha, if we're looking purely at streaming prep, you may already have surpassed the first generation."
"Hmm. Only that?"
"Ugh, haa... She's getting on my nerves. Can't I hit you just once? Just the one?"
"By all means—if you can manage it."
"Haa, anyway. You pass the third test too. But."
"But?"
"Tomorrow's vocal test won't be easy even for you. There's no clear passing line to begin with, and the person running it is super—suuuuuper picky."
"I see."
A vocal test, huh.
Honestly, I wasn't all that worried.
The next day.
I reported for work—though not to the office. My outfit, too, was comfortable clothes instead of the suit I'd been living in lately; the boss had told me to dress for ease of movement, since things might run long.
"So this is the place."
The moment I arrived in front of the building, I spotted the manager, who had beaten me there. Seeing me, she hurried over with a coffee carrier in hand.
"This is your first time coming here, right, Seha?"
"That's right."
"Here, take this. Just follow me."
"Thank you."
Following the manager through the entrance, I took a sip of the coffee. It had that vaguely nondescript flavor unique to franchise chains—not great, but far from undrinkable.
Our destination turned out to be a signless studio on the building's third floor. The door stood open; someone must have called ahead.
The interior is... more than I bargained for.
Compared to Mirage Live on my first visit, it was a toss-up which one deserved the crown for chaos. Unlike the instruments, records, and mixing console, which were impeccably organized, the rest of the room looked as though unwashed laundry and empty delivery bags had taken up permanent residence.
A mountain of things to be cleaned.
"Producer, were you up late again?"
"Hm? Ah, yeah. I was about to sleep, but a good melody came to me. Is the one behind you the new member? The replacement?"
"Yes. This is Lee Seha, who'll be singing in place of Mei. Although—"
"Ah, right, I heard about it from Yuri. Never properly studied music, did you? What a pain. Guess I'm teaching from scratch again."
"Please don't put it that way. We're in your hands."
"Well, I only do what I'm paid for. Alright then, shall we begin?"
The producer drifted toward the mixing console, radiating a languid air. She seemed ready to launch straight into the test.
I couldn't stand it a second longer.
"Before that, allow me to introduce myself properly. I'm Lee Seha. Please call me whatever feels comfortable."
"Hm? Oh, right—I never did introduce myself either. I'm Yoon Sea... Huh? Sea-a, Se-ha. Weird, our names sound kind of alike, don't they? Eh, who cares. Can I call you Seha-chan?"
"Of course. I don't mind."
"Then let's get started right—"
"I'm terribly sorry, but before we begin, may I clean this place up first?"
"Clean?"
"Yes."
Producer Yoon Sea's face curdled.
"Oh c'mon, it'll just end up like this again. Why go to the trouble?"
"It still needs cleaning."
"Ugh, you're not my mom, you know. This is such a pain..."
"All you need to do is sit still, Producer Yoon Sea. I'll handle the cleaning myself."
"Oh, really? Then by all means."
At the instant about-face, I heaved a long sigh on the inside. Not that I'd planned on doing it any other way—but to think she found it that much of a chore. What a phenomenally lazy person.
I left the producer in the manager's care for a moment and set to work at once.
Ten minutes later.
"...This is really my studio?"
"Do you like it?"
"Of course I do. But seriously, can this even be done in ten minutes?"
"For me, it's easy work."
"...How about you clock in at my studio every day and take charge of my entire life?"
"I'm afraid that would be difficult. This body of mine comes expensive."
"I have more money than I know what to do with."
"Oho? Then I wish you the best of luck negotiating with the boss. Here—your tea."
I had found some chamomile while cleaning; I brewed it and set it before her in a mug.
Slurp—
"Haa. That does it. I'm calling Yuri."
"Do you like it?"
"Totally, completely. You can brew tea like this with a coffee pot? I can't believe it."
"It's Basic Maid Care."
"That's a thing?"
"Yes."
Having drained about half her tea, the producer stretched her arms skyward.
"Sooo good! Alright, let's get started."
"What should I start with?"
"In the recording booth, for starters. I'll run you through this and that and put together your guidelines. That's where we begin today."
"Understood."
I stepped into the recording booth directly facing the mixing console, took my place before the microphone, and put on the headset.
—First we'll check your pitch. All you have to do is sing back the notes I play for you.
"Understood."
Singing, huh.
Unbidden, a memory from my otherworld life came back to me.
"You're not without talent. I can't do this often, but I'll look in on you now and then when I have a spare moment."
A colleague... if that's even the word for her.
Where I had been the all-around hexagon of a maid serving the Young Lady, she was the sort whose one and only stat—song—had bored straight through the hexagon and soared into the sky.
Her name was Siren. A half-blood siren by race—and my vocal teacher, a monster whose singing alone surpassed even the Young Lady's.
And I was the one who had taken more than ten thousand lessons from that monster. So there was nothing to fear. All I had to do was sing, lightly, exactly as I had learned back then—
The moment Lee Seha opened her mouth into the microphone, Yoon Sea got goosebumps.
She had assumed Seha was simply a distinctive new face. Her looks could give most actresses a run for their money, her cleaning skills were beyond reason, she handled a car well, and her speaking voice was pleasant enough—honestly, Yoon Sea had already been thinking she wanted to hire her. But at most, going by her old friend's claim that Seha had never studied singing, she'd expected a new student to teach from the ground up.
Then Seha's song began.
An inexplicable chill raced up her spine and coiled around her entire body. It started from a single note, the range widening little by little, until soon it carried past rhythm into melody itself.
Pitch. Timing. The highest highs and the lowest lows. Breath. Technique. Even expression.
Just what kind of monster had she taken in?
Yoon Sea spat out the complaint where her friend couldn't hear. That was someone who had never learned to sing? Lies. In Yoon Sea's eyes, Seha's skill already towered over most professional singers.
So why hadn't she ended the test?
Because in the eyes of a woman who had carried a singular sense for music since childhood, something had begun to flicker—a feeling that she could see something standing behind Seha.
Just a little more, just a little more...
And there was only one way to bring it into even sharper focus: drawing out Seha's true heart—her full power. So she forgot all about this being a test and pushed Seha with ever harder demands.
"Ah."
There it was.
Above a surging sea—a figure leaning against unshakable rock, singing alone. She who had turned countless heroes into guests who would never return, known to the world only through myth and legend—
The Siren
The moment Yoon Sea confirmed that figure, she fell in love. As if struck by Eros's golden arrow, she tumbled headlong into a love there was no escaping.
Then, unbidden, words her teacher had once said flashed through her mind.
"That moment will come for you too. For artists like us, there's a being of demonic allure we can never afford to miss... the moment you meet your Muse. So when the time comes, don't let her slip away. Understood?"
Advice her teacher had offered while hanging off the arm of a distinctly shabby-looking brother-in-law. She'd laughed it off at the time, but...
Teacher.
You were right.
She's come to me too. My very own Muse.
And so—
"Seha."
—Yes?
"Will you marry me?"
—Huh??
Ah. She'd gone and said it.
An out-of-nowhere confession attack!
Before I could even ask what she meant, Producer Yoon Sea walked it back.
—Ah, my bad, my bad. Your skill was so overwhelming the words just slipped out.
"I see."
Outwardly I played along, but my thoughts were a little different. That voice had been utterly sincere. If anything, it was this glib little correction that sounded like the lie.
Inwardly, I raised my guard around Producer Yoon Sea by a notch.
—By the way, are you really a total beginner? No matter how I look at it, you've trained.
"To be honest, it's only that the boss doesn't know. I do have experience studying music."
—Knew it! I called it. Your breathing alone is rock-steady—no way you're a beginner.
"Yes."
—Well, this makes things easier. Though I will need to revise the plan a little. Seha-chan, could you come out for now?
"Of course."
Outside the booth, Producer Yoon Sea was grinning in a vaguely unsettling way, while the manager stared at me with wide, startled eyes.
"Good, good. I'll send the company the revised plan by the end of the day, so you can head home for today. Let's meet again soon."
"You seem awfully pleased about something."
"Well, my workload just got smaller, didn't it?"
Somehow, I didn't think that was the kind of happiness on her face. But I would let it pass for now.
"Then I'll see you next time."
"Mm, see you then~"
Next time, huh.
Presumably that would be the day we came to record the group song.
Taking the manager by the arm, I exchanged farewells and we left the studio.
For now, it was back to the office.