Chapter 53
Chapter 53
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: Invincible
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Vocals, drums, bass, keyboard, and even guitar.
The guitar was only for this recording, but Yoo Jae-hyuk's band was finally fully assembled.
All that was left was to play the song and record it.
But jumping straight into recording wasn't easy.
They needed practice and preparation. And they hadn't even heard the track yet.
Yeonwoo handed out sheet music to everyone.
“This is the one a seven-year-old wrote, right?”
“The notation's pretty good.”
“Isn't it true that geniuses always have terrible handwriting?”
The murmuring members fell silent as the music started playing, leaning in to listen.
It began with the drums.
The gentle drums soon shifted into a fast, passionate rhythm.
Then guitar, bass, and keyboard layered on top, and the song truly took off.
In typical rock, a long instrumental wouldn't be unusual, but the vocals kicked in shortly after the ensemble started.
“Whoa, the guide vocal sounds great. Who's that?”
“But it sounds kinda young, doesn't it?”
The female guide vocal flowing from the speakers had a somewhat childish tone.
Yeonwoo answered right away.
“It's an AI vocal.”
Ever since the Whambui Challenge, Yeonwoo had started commissioning and using AI vocals more often.
It was more convenient than hunting for a guide singer.
The song continued amid it all. Before long, Yeonwoo's signature ferocity from the two Whambui tracks emerged.
From the chorus onward, it demanded blistering speed from the drums like a scene from Whip Flash, with the guitar and keyboard chasing rapid-fire notes.
It was hard to imagine humans pulling off that tempo.
No—more precisely, could men in their fifties, past their prime, even handle it?
The vocals weren't easy either.
It required at least a third-octave high note amid the frantic beat.
The climax in the second chorus even approached a fourth octave.
When the song ended, Yoo Jae-hyuk exclaimed in horror.
“You want *me* to sing this?”
“I thought you could handle it, based on that last recording.”
Yoo Jae-hyuk scratched his head at Yeonwoo's words. That day, whether because his throat had just healed or some music god had possessed him in the booth, the result had been shockingly good—even to him.
He had no confidence in replicating it, but Yeonwoo apparently thought otherwise.
“I gave you the guide track and the sheet music, so practice and come back.”
“By when?”
“Whenever. If it's not good enough, just practice harder and come back sooner, uncles.”
The members murmured again at Yeonwoo's words.
“He's got youth and time on his side with nothing to lose, so you old guys with no time better figure it out.”
“Exactly.”
“He's busy even without us.”
“We gotta practice our asses off. I wanna drop this album ASAP.”
“You think you can handle it after losing all that muscle?”
Yoo Jae-hyuk sighed, eyeing the members who were gossiping loud enough for everyone to hear.
These guys never grew up, no matter how much time passed.
“As fast as possible.”
Yoo Jae-hyuk ruffled Yeonwoo's hair.
“We'll practice and come back. And tell that gentleman Tate-mura Shuji over there to get ready quick too.”
“Don't worry about Grandpa Shuji. He'll be faster than Uncle's friends.”
“...Yeah, probably.”
Recalling Shuji's guitar skills, which looked unchanged from his legendary Kurenai days, Yoo Jae-hyuk nodded.
“Oh, by the way, Uncle.”
“Yeah?”
“What's the band name?”
Yoo Jae-hyuk nearly said Invincible but suddenly thought it sounded too corny.
The song oozed cutting-edge rock vibes, but Invincible as a band name?
“...Invincible.”
“Hey, what's Invincible?”
“It's English for invincible. But whatever—why'd you decide the band name on your own?”
“Yeah, at least discuss it, you punk.”
“Kid only knows how to backseat drive.”
“...I'm out. Come on, come on, let's go.”
After trying to set the mood and suggest a new name, Yoo Jae-hyuk grabbed the napes of the heckling members from behind and hustled out of the studio.
“[Perfect timing.]”
Shuji stroked his chin, chuckling at Yoo Jae-hyuk and the members.
“[Those punks are pushing fifty, and it's the perfect time?]”
“[To an eighty-year-old like me, it is. You're staring down seventy yourself, so it looks perfect to you too. Right?]”
Heo Ok snorted at Shuji's words, turned, and said to Yeonwoo.
“Yeonwoo-ya, let's head out and eat. It's dinnertime.”
“Yeah, Grandma.”
As Heo Ok tried to whisk Yeonwoo away, Shuji hurriedly grabbed them.
“[Hey, hey, Jade. You weren't planning to ditch me, were you?]”
“[Obviously? I'm heading home.]”
“[Sorry, but I didn't book a hotel. At least buy me a meal before you do.]”
“[You didn't even book a hotel?]”
“[Your grandson said to hurry over.]”
Heo Ok glanced at Yeonwoo.
Yeonwoo stared back with an utterly innocent expression. Heo Ok sighed.
“[Since I did the favor for your grandson, I'll spot you one meal.]”
“[Much appreciated.]”
Shuji grinned shamelessly.
* * *
“Oh, right.”
The next day, entering the studio and checking the schedule board, Jiyeong remembered something she'd forgotten.
She'd seen Yeonwoo going wild at the kids' cafe and thought to mention it later, but days had already passed.
“Yeonwoo-ya, wanna try a drama OST sometime?”
Yeonwoo, who had just entered the studio wondering what to do today, turned to his aunt.
“Drama? Dramas need music too?”
“Of course. You haven't watched a single... Oh, right, no one in our house watches dramas.”
It was true.
Jiyeong would check out high-rated ones sometimes, but even that was just on her phone before bed.
“That... Saurous Force you watch? It has music too, right?”
“The theme song? Invincible Saurous Force! Protect the Earth!!”
“Uh, yeah... something like that.”
Yeonwoo thought for a moment and shook his head.
“Nope.”
“Huh? Why not?”
“I gotta know it. Can't do it if I don't know the drama.”
“Wouldn't it be fine to read the script and decide later?”
Yeonwoo pondered, then shook his head again.
“Dramas are for grown-ups. I don't know grown-up stories well, so even if I watch, I don't think I could make music for it.”
Ever since meeting Himari, Yeonwoo had tried to write songs he could empathize with and pour emotions into.
He didn't want to make music for things he couldn't understand.
This was one of those times.
“So you'll pass?”
“Yeah.”
Jiyeong figured it worked out well. VVX's comeback was imminent, and Yeonwoo had Chae Hayeon's and Invincible's albums to prep.
Come to think of it, elementary school enrollment was right around the corner too.
Yeonwoo was the busiest of them all.
* * *
“What? They turned it down?”
“Yes. Yuin says she's swamped right now and can't...”
PD Park Sung-guk rubbed his dry face.
“This is a disaster...”
Park Sung-guk was a PD at Avalon, a subsidiary of Studio Tiger, Korea's top drama production company.
Including subsidiaries, Studio Tiger pumped out 20-30 works a year, boasting numerous high-rated dramas.
Building on that growth, it had five subsidiaries specializing in niches for even more productions. Avalon was the youngest.
In an era when terrestrial dramas struggled, Avalon had been established with great care: hiring hitmaker CP Yeom Se-han, who nailed four straight successes, and writer Hong Na-joo, who'd ridden that wave.
How serious were they? They even poached Park Sung-guk, the genius PD who'd hit 15% ratings with his TVM debut.
They banked on the harmony of a hitmaking CP, genius PD, and hit writer trio.
But Avalon bombed its first three projects.
All three ranked in the all-time lowest ratings top 10—disasters among disasters.
Drama diehards, who knew the industry inside out, mocked them online as Avalon's rise-or-fall trilogy.
Park Sung-guk felt a bit—okay, very—wronged. Those three weren't ones he'd properly directed.
Yeom Se-han CP, fresh off terrestrial hits, had bulldozed them with his influence.
As a literary artist type, Yeom Se-han suffered from that usual “artistic” affliction.
He insisted on infusing meaning, preaching his ideology to viewers.
Fine in theory, but it killed the fun.
No amount of high-concept mise-en-scène saved a boring drama, yet Yeom Se-han rammed through three.
Studio Tiger knew this, so they sidelined Yeom Se-han and gave Park Sung-guk one last shot.
With Avalon's fate on the line, Park Sung-guk eyed a new script from writer Yoon Jin-ah, who'd turned her fantasy drama *The Male Lead Likes Me* into a hit.
Centered on a high school band club, it was a high-teen drama with a simple synopsis but insane immersion and fun in the script.
But Yoon Jin-ah was negative about working with Avalon.
Who could blame her? The rise-or-fall trilogy company.
Park Sung-guk had begged—more than the classic three visits—and barely convinced her.
But conditions came attached.
First: The lead vocalist, who had to sing live, would heed her input.
Second: Get the band club's main theme from composer Yuin, who'd drawn empathy with *Fighting, Today Too*.
The first was manageable somehow, but Yuin's rejection sank the second.
Yoon Jin-ah, who'd never wanted Avalon anyway, jumped at the chance to kill it.
Deep down, she wanted Yuin's song but was fine working elsewhere without it.
Yuin could be replaced somehow, but who wanted to join a sinking ship that couldn't even snag their top-choice composer?
But not Park Sung-guk.
He was dead set on making Yoon Jin-ah's script into a drama.
He'd researched Yuin's music himself: the buzz as a genius composer, the industry's rave reviews on her track quality—no one else measured up.
Plus, the music director swore one OST with her could be a smash. Now, Park Sung-guk needed Yuin more than anyone.
“No choice but to track her down myself.”
Go, kneel, and beg until she relented.
Simple, but maybe most effective.
“But... where do I even go?”
...He hit a wall right from the start.