Chapter 54
Chapter 54
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 55
Chapter Title: Invincible's Rehearsal
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Invincible, led by Yoo Jaehyuk, secured a practice room and dove straight into rehearsals.
It was their first time practicing individually and then syncing up as a group.
Everyone except Yoo Jaehyuk was disappointed in each other.
“Why the hell is your stick work so sloppy? You’re missing the beat? Hey? You panting already? Tired from just that?”
“Shut up—you’re sweating buckets and just flapping your mouth. How’s a guy who only moves his fingers that out of shape?”
“Screw stamina, you damn guitarist—your timing’s just as wrecked.”
Not a single member of Invincible had cut ties completely with music after the band broke up.
Park Su-hyuk had opened a restaurant and kept drums as a hobby, but the rest were still making a living with their instruments.
But they were now in their late forties to early fifties.
They were friends despite the age differences.
Even as active musicians, this insane sheet music was tough to handle.
Their hands had dulled, and no matter how much they trained, their stamina wasn’t what it used to be.
But they had to pull it off.
No—they wanted to.
This song was theirs.
The song Yeonwoo gave them had that much charm—no, that much magic.
The more they played it, the more they felt it.
This was a song with the power to set not just the band, but the entire audience ablaze with excitement.
“For a seven-year-old to make a song like this now.”
“We should get him something as a thank-you, like an elementary school enrollment gift, right?”
“Come off it. Jaehyuk said his grandma’s a famous jazz pianist and professor. What can broke asses like us do?”
“Jaehyuk’s got money, though.”
“That hikikomori? Doubt he has much now.”
“Hey, but real geniuses are the real deal. Think he can produce well, though? Solo and band are different beasts.”
“Let’s master this track first, then talk.”
For all their chatter, the members practiced diligently every day, gradually making the song their own.
By late March, they wrapped up practice and headed to SSHIN Studio.
* * *
“So we’ve finally made it here.”
The entertainment industry was smaller than it seemed.
Back in the day, singers stuck with singers, comedians with comedians, actors with actors—everyone in their own bubbles, even sniping at each other. But as the world changed, that had faded away long ago.
Even agencies often lumped singers and actors together under one roof, divided only by divisions or labels.
Drama production companies were no different.
Park Sungook went straight to Avalon and its sister company, List, to meet Yuin in person.
“What? You want a meeting with Siha? For a drama?”
“Yes.”
He met with an exclusive writer at List and arranged a spot with the singer-actress Lee Siha.
“Oh, Beomsin oppa? Sure, I can reach him. Want to grab drinks? Why would a drama PD want to see him? A fan? Got it. I’ll make a call.”
After setting up dinner with Siha, he used her to arrange drinks with Kim Beomsin.
“You want to meet Shin Jiyeong?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm... Park PD, be straight with me—no hiding. This about Yuin?”
“What? No, it’s not...”
“Haha, kidding. Everyone and their dog wants to meet Yuin these days, so they’re all trying to connect through Jiyeong.”
Seeing Kim Beomsin joke so easily, Park Sungook felt a pang of guilt.
He was no different.
“Well, handing out Jiyeong’s number used to be fine...”
“Something happen?”
“She told me not to give it to anyone anymore. Ditched her work phone entirely.”
“Oh, so meeting her’s not easy...?”
“Yep. She’s at HQ now. JOP? That’s your only shot.”
Park Sungook despaired.
He’d already contacted JOP when pitching the first drama OST.
If they’d set up a direct meeting with Shin Jiyeong, he wouldn’t have had to go through all these connections.
“Ah... damn.”
“No, seriously—why do you need Jiyeong?”
“Truth is, I’m thinking of commissioning an OST for a drama going into production.”
“Why not just call JOP?”
“They said no. Figured I’d meet and persuade her.”
Kim Beomsin let out a hearty laugh. Then he sucked in a breath, crossed his arms, and said,
“If they say no, that’s that. I asked for more tracks myself—flat-out rejected. Stubborn as a pumpkin.”
Kim Beomsin’s words were pure despair.
Did this mean getting Yuin’s song was impossible?
In Park Sungook’s mind, the scene from Yoon Jina’s script—production underway, protagonist singing Yuin’s song—faded into nothing.
But he couldn’t give up yet.
Park Sungook decided to beg JOP one more time.
* * *
While Invincible practiced their song, SSHIN wasn’t sitting idle.
First off, Shin Jiyeong prepped VVX for a comeback.
They were a group that had flopped at debut, so normally they’d debate even a showcase due to low buzz. But thanks to Yuin’s song and Jiyeong producing, they managed a small comeback showcase.
With a tiny fandom and reporters more interested in Jiyeong and Yuin than VVX, it ended without much fanfare. Still, they hit terrestrial music shows and, with flashy choreography and an addictive track, charted at 67 on Mango their first week.
“67 in the first week?!”
“At this rate, we can expect a climb next week?”
Some might call it modest.
But the mood at HM, VVX’s agency, was sky-high.
Festive, even.
They had to rank outside Mango’s TOP 100 until they nearly quit.
Following Jiyeong’s advice, HM posted them singing on SSHIN’s YouTube, appeared on popular civilian YouTubers’ channels without hesitation, and even hit a portal site’s internet broadcast to show off the album’s signature choreo.
It was a clear strategy to keep exposing them on YouTube and SNS shorts.
Pairing the addictive sound with matching dance on shorts, they climbed the charts bit by bit, day by day.
With VVX’s comeback done, Jiyeong focused on SSHIN, her workload lighter.
She set out to recruit key talent.
JOP was handling admin and support, so the urgent need was an engineer producer.
With JOP’s new gear, they needed someone skilled to operate it—no question.
They couldn’t even release Chae Hayeon’s official album without one.
Jiyeong couldn’t keep fumbling with it herself and outsourcing the rest forever, so she started scouting.
“Why not poach one from JOP?”
“Huh?”
Just then, Datemura Shunsuke—who’d returned to Korea for Invincible’s recording—stepped up.
Jiyeong and Shunsuke spoke in English.
“There’s a tech whiz obsessed with Hallyu. Right after setting up JOP Korea, he begged to be sent over.”
“A mere engineer known to an elder like you? Must be top-notch.”
“He’s otaku as hell, but boasts he’s the best in Japan. Top five there, at least.”
Most studio gear came from the US or Japan at the pinnacle. Jiyeong’s setup was mostly JOP imports—Japanese and American gear.
Outside raw musical talent, no one matched Japanese expertise in machines, tech, and gear.
Not a bad offer.
“Plus, a Japanese guy means less worry about Yeonwoo’s identity leaking. NDA goes without saying.”
“Then please, sir.”
“Done.”
And so, SSHIN gained an engineer producer.
“Hajimemashite, hello? I’m Fujii Wakana.”
Surprisingly, the engineer was a woman. Mid-twenties, at most.
“Your Korean’s great. And you’re younger than I expected.”
“Eh? No, I’m 33.”
“What?”
She looked barely legal, but turned out to be a stunning babyface.
And she wasn’t just a gearhead.
“I graduated from Japan Music University. Majored in flute.”
Top-tier music college in Japan.
Maybe that’s why—or because she loved music herself—Yeonwoo saw blue fairies hovering around her.
“Yuin-san? Honto?”
Even she gawked at seeing Yuin—Yeonwoo—in person.
Because he was so young?
“Kawaii! Meccha kawaii!”
No—because Yeonwoo was pretty.
In Korea, kawaii often just meant cute, but it carried pretty too.
Truth was, her love for Hallyu was simple.
Korean idols, male or female, all struck her as gorgeous.
Yes.
She was a hardcore face-con.
“Best work environment ever!”
She seemed thrilled with the new label, thanks to Yeonwoo.
Anyway, the fire was out.
Now, just recording left.
“Start with Chae Hayeon’s album?”
Hayeon’s was a mini with “Fighting, Today Too” plus four more tracks.
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
Hayeon just needed to sing—no prep required. They could start anytime.
As they geared up for Hayeon’s album,
[We’re ready.]
Word from Yoo Jaehyuk.
The next day, Yeonwoo visited their practice room with Shunsuke and Jiyeong.
“You’re here.”
Yoo Jaehyuk was his usual self. Maybe a bit leaner, but Yeonwoo didn’t notice.
He perked up his ears and said,
“Your voice sounds more solid.”
“Got it locked in.”
“Good.”
Yeonwoo nodded, scanning the room. Standing mic, bass, guitar, drums, keys—all set and ready.
“Alright, let’s hear it. I’m dying to know!”
Yeonwoo bounced excitedly, and Invincible’s members smiled warmly at the sight.
A pure kid’s joy brought smiles naturally.
But only for a moment.
As Shunsuke grabbed his guitar and plugged in, the air grew heavy.
Even a rock band vet from across the sea—no one who lived for rock in Korea could ignore the legendary guitarist.
Matching breaths with him now. Tense, but thrilling.
“GO.”
Shunsuke eyed the members like a leader.
“OKOK!!”
Drummer Park Su-hyuk, fired up first, twirled his sticks into position.
He counted them in, drums kicked off, and the song truly began.
Yeonwoo watched their sparkling performance, then soon furrowed his delicate brows.
“Stop, stop!!”
Yeonwoo raised his voice and stood, drawing all eyes.
He glared sharply at the members.
Those who met his gaze swallowed hard without thinking.
No cute, pretty Yeonwoo here—just Yuin, eyes blazing with unchildlike charisma.