Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: My Kid's Music is Different
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“Hmm…….”
Heo Ok opened her eyes.
The world seemed to be spinning, but she soon pulled herself together.
What had happened?
This wasn’t home—it was a hospital.
Heo Ok looked around, trying to piece together the situation.
“Huh?”
That was when she felt it.
Something heavy in her arms.
Warm and good-smelling—right, it was Yeonwoo.
Seeing Yeonwoo asleep in her embrace, Heo Ok couldn’t help but smile as she reached out and gently stroked his head.
“Mm…….”
At her touch, Yeonwoo opened his eyes.
Realizing his grandmother was looking at him, Yeonwoo shot up.
“Yeonwoo.”
“G-G-Grandma…!”
“...Y-Yeonwoo?”
“G-G-Grandma, a-are you okay?”
His tongue felt stiff, and his pronunciation was clumsy, but Yeonwoo was definitely speaking.
Heo Ok’s eyes widened as she grabbed both his cheeks. Squeezing the soft, white cheeks like glutinous rice cakes, she asked,
“C-Can you talk now?”
“Uh-huh, Grandma okay?”
“Oh my… God.”
For the first time in her life, Heo Ok called out to the heavens as she pulled Yeonwoo into her arms.
“Mom!!”
Just then, Jiyeong appeared.
Pushing aside the curtain over the hospital bed and poking her head in, Jiyeong sighed in relief upon seeing Heo Ok holding Yeonwoo.
“Phew, looks like you’re fine. Fainted again?”
“They say she’s managing it, but still.”
“Shouldn’t she get a full checkup?”
In truth, Heo Ok suffered from various complications due to low blood pressure.
She was fine if she managed it well, but sometimes she’d go into shock and pass out like this.
“I know my own body.”
Heo Ok said what people who didn’t care about their health always said, then stroked Yeonwoo’s head as she added,
“Well… if it weren’t for my grandson this time, it could’ve been bad.”
“Yeah, Yeonwoo, how on earth did you call for help? You came in an ambulance?”
“Well, Yeonwoo…”
“Auntie…”
“You heard that?”
“Oh my god…!”
The moment Yeonwoo called her, Jiyeong covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes bulging.
“D-Did Yeonwoo just talk?”
“Yeah. Y-Yeonwoo talking now.”
“Oh my god!!”
Jiyeong scooped Yeonwoo up and showered his cheeks with kisses.
“Our Yeonwoo cured his illness to save Grandma. You’re amazing! No, this isn’t the time.”
Jiyeong pulled out her smartphone from her pocket.
“I need to tell my brother about this…”
“Mom, Yeonwoo!”
“...Ugh, that guy’s hopeless.”
Jiyeong, about to make the call, turned at the sound of Jihoon’s voice from behind.
“D-Dad.”
“……!!”
At Yeonwoo’s voice, Jihoon’s eyes widened just like Jiyeong’s.
After a long silence, Jihoon approached and hugged Yeonwoo tightly.
“D-Dad, c-can’t breathe…!”
“Yeah, Yeonwoo. Thank you. Thanks for speaking.”
Why did these damn tears always come so easily?
* * *
A few days after Yeonwoo regained his voice, Jihoon visited the hospital with him.
He mulled over what the doctor had said.
‘Elective Mutism is a psychological symptom, so if there’s a trigger, the voice can return quickly, like now. Giving the child emotional stability and building a strong bond over the past time was key. You must have put in tremendous care in such a short period. Impressive.’
Honestly, Jihoon felt embarrassed.
He hadn’t spent much time with Yeonwoo because of work.
At least compared to his mother. No, even after Jiyeong returned to the country, she’d been glued to him every day, so it wasn’t an exaggeration to say Jihoon had spent even less time than her.
Jihoon looked at Yeonwoo with those thoughts.
“Dad, Yeonwoo likes carbonated drinks. At first, it stung my throat, but now I like that. It feels all refreshing inside, like poof. But Grandma and Auntie don’t let me have it often. They say it’s bad for you. Why are tasty things bad for you? Yeonwoo thinks if it’s tasty, it should be good for you…”
Now that his voice was back, Yeonwoo never stopped talking.
It was like he was pouring out everything he hadn’t said before.
His pronunciation had improved quickly thanks to it, but honestly, just listening could be tiring.
He really didn’t stop.
Ignoring it and seriously listening was quite a chore.
But what could he do?
His beloved son wanted to talk after all this time—he had to listen.
“Yeah, but Auntie and Grandma aren’t wrong. Too much soda is bad for you.”
“So lately I drink zero cola. Just one small one a day. Promised Grandma.”
“With Grandma?”
“Yeah, she said be careful not to get sick. She said if I get sick, it hurts her more than if she’s sick.”
“Grandma said that…?”
“Uh-huh.”
It was shocking and terrifying.
He knew they were close, but for the great Heo Ok to say something like that.
It was unimaginable from his and Jiyeong’s childhood memories.
Sure, she’d softened with age, but in their memories, she was still the type who wouldn’t shed a tear even if stabbed with a knife.
‘There are parents who lose to their kids, but no grandparents who lose to their grandkids… it’s true.’
Thinking that, Jihoon got in the car. Then a sudden thought struck him.
“Yeonwoo, want anything? Shall we buy a toy?”
“Not a toy, something else?”
“What?”
“Guitar! Want a mini guitar!”
“G-Guitar?”
It wasn’t a kid-like request, but yeah, our son is different.
Considering how he’d stunned singers and producers with jazz piano beyond his years, it wasn’t weird.
Still, where to buy a guitar?
“Uh… Yeonwoo, how about ordering online?”
“If it’s Rocket Delivery, Yeonwoo likes it.”
Where did a little kid learn about Rocket Delivery?
“Y-Yeah.”
Jihoon thought today’s kids were growing up way too fast.
That was when it happened.
“Huh?”
[Oppa!! Ellis contacted me!!]
A KakaoTalk from his sister.
Ellis?
[Our Yeonwoo, no, composer Yuin said absolutely no face reveal, but she wants to meet and talk about something important. What do we do?]
[She seems really desperate?]
[Should we tell her Yeonwoo’s identity?]
[Can you ask Yeonwoo?]
[Quick!!]
Jihoon scratched his head unconsciously at Jiyeong’s barrage of impatient messages.
So…
Who was Ellis?
* * *
Ellis—no, No Hee-yeon.
She had a dream.
To create the idol she wanted without any interference from her agency.
Any freelance producer probably dreamed the same.
They just lacked the skill or influence.
But what about Ellis herself?
She’d already proven her talent by successfully debuting several idol groups and wielded significant influence in the industry.
The problem was her agency.
Taein Entertainment wouldn’t let her do as she pleased, no matter who she was.
They pursued their own style almost like a religion.
So she left cleanly.
Taein tried to persuade her once or twice but didn’t hold on after that.
Now free, Ellis scouted agencies and partnered with BSK.
They gave her full authority, but surprisingly, BSK’s trainees were high quality.
Among them, kids good at singing, dancing, or shining with individuality no matter what.
She selected five to form an idol group.
Big agencies pick idols from trainees via shows, but BSK wasn’t that level.
No need to drag disliked kids to the end for the show—perfect.
Having chosen five, she set the concept.
Freedom.
Individuals bursting with personality, dancing and singing freely—that kind of idol.
The reason? Almost entirely because of Taein.
Taein demanded identical singing styles from trainees and made them dance in Taein’s style.
Even the trainees they picked all had a similar look that screamed “so Taein.”
That was manageable.
But they even demanded or made Taein-style songs.
Frankly, wasn’t it amazing she’d produced decent idols from that?
No, it was amazing.
She had to prove it, especially since some called it “Taein boost.”
BSK was her challenge and proving ground.
Anyway, standing on that stage with five female trainees, Ellis asked BSK,
“The song…?”
“Write your own if you want. You’re good at picking them too, Ellis.”
Kim Beomsin, ballad legend of the industry, might seem old-school by age, but not at all.
“Do whatever. I’ll loosen the reins—fly free.”
The words were cringy, but they really loosened them, so fly she would.
With resolve, she tried picking non-Taein songs.
Even dug through her old ones.
But something was off.
Nothing clicked.
Old or new, none captured her heart.
Not because they were Taein-like.
As a natural rebel, she’d shoved non-Taein songs at them even back then.
What was wrong?
Was she the problem?
Had she become Taein-ified?
Ellis clutched her head.
“No, wait. Let’s listen to something else.”
This was BSK.
Not a mega-agency, but a hot one led by ballad king Kim Beomsin.
Songs poured in from unknowns and pros alike.
Ellis browsed them.
Like a treasure trove, plenty of good ones.
But none grabbed her.
Mostly trendy songs with perfectly Korean money-code progressions.
Even reeking of Taein.
So she wasn’t crazy.
Was trendy songs with solid planning and marketing the best these days?
That was when.
“Huh?”
[1☆]
A music file with a familiar title greeted her.
She recalled the song she’d tried hard to forget when fleeing Taein.
“That song… is it?”
Unforgettable.
She’d decided to make a new girl group after hearing it, fought Taein over it, and left.
“It’s good.”
Yes, this.
Ignores trends, uses money codes but with such fresh progressions.
Yet not alien, off-putting, or complex.
Nails novelty and mass appeal.
“The one who made this is a genius for sure.”
Even style-stickler Taein agreed to treat a newbie like a top composer and snag it.
Jiyeong, Yuin’s agent, sent samples everywhere, including here, but Taein probably took it.
No, maybe not.
Yuin or Jiyeong might’ve rejected Taein’s meddling that’d ruin the song’s essence.
If so, she had to get it.
With faint hope, Ellis called BSK’s manager.
“The song from producer Shin Jiyeong, manager. Oh, senior Beomsin knows it? Found the owner?”
-Heard they met Taein but it didn’t sell? Beomsin’s interested, so he’d know.
“Got it.”
Hope glimmered.
No need to write or hunt new songs.
Stick to original plan—get this one.
Hurry, before others who see its value snatch it.
“Manager, can we take this? Nothing matches it. Oh, meeting Shin Jiyeong again? She wants to meet me? Ah, perfect. Um… could we meet the composer too? Yuin? Yeah, please try. Yes, definitely, definitely!!”
Having proposed a meeting via BSK, she waited with half excitement, half anxiety.
Days later, Yuin’s stance came via Jiyeong.
“…What’s this?”
The KakaoTalk held a contract.
“NDA…?”
-Don’t ever reveal the composer’s identity. That’s it. Not hard, right?
“Yeah, but…”
No… this much for one meeting?
What secret?
-So, sign and meet, or not?
The more like this, the more curiosity grew.
To Ellis, the NDA looked like Eden’s snake, the fruit of knowledge.
Forbidden, yet irresistibly tempting and sweet.
“…I’ll sign and send it.”
Like Eve biting the apple, she printed the NDA and signed it.