36 – 『Rough』(2)
36 – 『Rough』(2)
36.
“A vocal training academy?”
“Yeah.”
I blinked at Suyeon’s sudden declaration. A vocal academy, all of a sudden?
It wasn’t that academies were bad, but this was unexpected.
“Why the sudden decision?”
“You know that girl… Han Goyo.”
“Yeah.”
“I want to be able to stand on stage like her.”
“Ah.”
I understood immediately. She must have been inspired by Han Goyo’s performance yesterday. That kind of stage left a mark.
“Which academy are you planning to go to?”
“Mm. I don’t know yet.”
“Want me to recommend one?”
“The one you used to go to?”
“No.”
I shook my head. It wasn’t that the old place was bad, but it wasn’t nearly enough for Suyeon.
She’d never had proper professional vocal training before. I’d taught her some things, but that was only theory. In other words, Suyeon was still a blank canvas.
And that was exactly why the first teacher mattered. She needed to avoid picking up bad habits. Once a weird habit set in, fixing it was hell.
So I needed to find a teacher who understood that.
“I’ll find someone for you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
This was Suyeon’s future. I wasn’t handing her over to just anyone. I’d use every connection I had to find her the best teacher possible.
My network wasn’t wide, but the people I did know were heavy hitters. And I had money—Sohyang had already paid me, and there was more work coming. It would be fine.
“Oppa.”
Suyeon called me. I looked at her. Her expression was unusually serious.
“I’m going to work hard.”
“Yeah.”
My little sister had recognized her shortcomings, and she wanted to do something about them.
Then as her older brother, the only right move was to trust her and support her.
“It’s smaller than I expected…”
That was my first impression of the ROC Entertainment building.
It was an old, shabby three-story structure. Honestly, looking at it, you’d wonder if this was really an entertainment company.
I hesitated at the entrance, then messaged Jin Sohyang.
[I’m here.]
Almost immediately, she replied.
[I’ll come down!]
…Why did this girl reply faster than anyone else when she was the idol?
Out of everyone I talked to, Sohyang responded the fastest. Suyeon rarely checked her phone like I did. Han Goyo often read messages and didn’t reply. And Taeyoung… we only texted when we actually needed something.
I put my phone away and waited.
Soon, loud footsteps echoed from inside. A moment later, Sohyang came out in comfortable clothes and walked over.
“Did you wait long?”
“No. I just got here.”
I really had.
“Then let’s go up right away.”
“Sure.”
We entered the building. Unlike the outside, the inside was surprisingly clean. We greeted the security guard and got into the elevator, heading straight to the third floor.
“B1 is practice rooms. First floor is the front desk. Second floor has the recording studio, workrooms, stuff like that.”
“Mm.”
“The CEO is on the third floor.”
“Why are CEOs always on the top floor?”
“Uh… hmm. Good air?”
She tried to answer my random comment seriously, and it was kind of cute.
I let out a quiet laugh.
The elevator reached the third floor. We’d arrived early, so we waited in what looked like a meeting room. As soon as we sat, Sohyang handed me a can of coffee.
“I saw the reactions on iTube. Pretty damn good.”
“Ah, you watched? Hehe. It’s all thanks to you.”
“How is it thanks to me?”
“Come on, seriously. If I were alone, I could’ve never done that stage. Because of you, I got to do that and even have a solo song.”
“A solo song?”
“It’s not a new song. The new version of ‘Rough’ we recorded—I’m releasing it as my solo.”
“Nice.”
“Seriously. It’s all because of you. Thank you so much.”
Sohyang grinned like an idiot. She must have been genuinely happy.
In the previous timeline, Sohyang had been a top-tier idol, but as a solo artist, she was never properly appreciated. She only debuted solo when Hwayangyeonhwa was barely active.
But this time… maybe that debut would come much sooner.
“Work hard,” I said.
“I will. I realized how fun the stage is.”
“Yeah. The stage is fun.”
Looks like she’d been swallowed whole by the magic of performing. Once that happened, it was hard to escape.
Though honestly, for someone like her, maybe she didn’t need to escape.
“And I want to work with you again.”
“I’d like that too, but festivals, events—”
I was about to refuse, but she shook her head and tapped the coffee can with a long, pretty finger.
“I don’t mean school festivals.”
“You mean as part of your idol activities?”
“Preferably… as a solo artist.”
She grinned again, goofy and adorable.
I was fine with that. Right now, I was only doing stages at school as a student, but I’d always wanted to step into the professional world as a composer.
“Someday,” I said. “It’ll happen.”
“Yeah. Someday.”
She nodded.
While we were talking, the meeting room door opened and a broad-shouldered woman walked in.
“Ah, sorry I’m late.”
“Oh, it’s fine.”
I stood and bowed lightly.
Kwon Suyoung. CEO of ROC Entertainment. Composer.
She smiled warmly. “Nice to meet you. You’re Yoon Hajun, right? I’m Kwon Suyoung.”
“Yes. And please, no need to speak so formally to me.”
“Heh. I’m more comfortable like this.”
She seemed cautious because I was a student. Understandable. In this industry, one rumor could destroy your reputation instantly. Plenty of people had gone down in flames because of past mistakes.
“May I call you ‘Composer-nim’?”
“Oh? You know I compose?”
“Of course. Personally, I really like ‘This Lov.’”
‘This Lov.’ A track from the ‘Rough’ album. My favorite. Probably the song that showed her strengths best.
The strength of Kwon Suyoung’s songs was that they weren’t flashy, but they were extremely pleasant to listen to, with a subtle addictiveness.
And that strength would be perfected in the next album.
“I also really enjoyed the ‘Rough’ arrangement you did,” she said. “I never imagined someone would arrange it like that. Even as the original composer, I was surprised.”
“Glad you liked it.”
“No, no—there was no way not to like it. Especially that part in the middle when the piano sound breaks. Fantastic. It felt like a preview of what the rest of the song would do. Very effective.”
She praised my arrangement to a slightly embarrassing degree. Still, being praised by an active composer felt pretty damn good.
“And I never imagined Sohyang could pull off that concept,” she continued. “Watching that stage, I realized I still don’t fully know these kids. I was impressed by your ability to read her like that.”
“Ah… well.”
Honestly, I’d just been desperately trying to make a stage that didn’t resemble Han Goyo’s. But if it worked, it worked. There was no reason to explain.
“So I felt it was a waste to let this be just a one-time stage. It showed a whole new side of Sohyang, and the song itself was excellent.”
“I see.”
“You heard from Sohyang, right?”
“Yes.”
“What do you think?”
“I have one question.”
“Ask anything.”
“If we record it, where will it be released? A digital single?”
“It’ll be included in Hwayangyeonhwa’s next album.”
I nodded, barely holding back a grin.
Hwayangyeonhwa’s next album—the legendary “masterpiece” girl group album.
And I’d get to be part of it?
“I’m in.”
Even if it killed me, I was taking this chance. This was a debut opportunity as a composer. I wasn’t stupid enough to let it go.
Kwon Suyoung smiled brightly.
“Are you familiar with industry contracts?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Here are the terms I prepared.”
She handed me the contract. I reviewed it carefully.
Songwriters didn’t actually earn that much in royalties. People heard about a few making hundreds of millions, but that was the top three percent. The other ninety-seven percent weren’t so lucky.
To earn big royalties, your song needed maximum exposure, especially on major broadcast networks. Otherwise, the amount you received was shockingly low.
And that was before considering that in this case, I hadn’t composed the song. I’d only arranged it and modified the lyrics. Naturally, my royalty percentage would be even smaller.
But Kwon Suyoung was fair. She credited me properly and clearly listed the royalty splits. That might sound obvious, but in this industry, it was incredibly generous. There were too many shady people.
On top of that, she was offering a very high work fee for a rookie like me. I’d heard she treated juniors well, and it was true.
“Is it acceptable?” she asked.
“Yes.”
More than acceptable. It was perfect.
“For recording, how do you want to handle it?” Kwon Suyoung asked. “I listened to your demo—the mixing and mastering were excellent. Would you like to handle it yourself?”
“I want to, but I might fall short in some areas. Would it be possible for you to help?”
“Of course.”
Perfect.
Now I could legally watch and learn from her process.
We coordinated schedules. Since I was a student, it wasn’t easy.
“How much vacation do you have left?”
“About a week.”
“Hmm. That’s tight. Sohyang has schedules too. During the semester will be tough… We’ll have to do weekends.”
“I can skip school. If I submit the work log, the school approves it.”
At Seolwon Arts High, that was normal. That was why so many active idols, singers, and actors attended our school. If you were working professionally, the school excused your absence.
Once everything was settled, I took the contract and stood up.
I should buy dinner for Sohyang. The profit from just one stage with her was insane.
Just as I was about to leave, Kwon Suyoung spoke again.
“Oh, and if you have any other songs you’ve worked on, feel free to show me. It doesn’t have to be for Sohyang—there are other members too.”
So I might even get to work with the other members of Hwayangyeonhwa.
It was a good offer, but too bad—I was way too busy right now.
“Sure. I understand.”
Not a refusal. Just… later.
We wrapped up and left the ROC Entertainment building.
“Are kids these days all this mature?”
Back in the meeting room, after Hajun left, Kwon Suyoung asked Sohyang.
Sohyang shrugged casually. “Hajun-ssi is just unusual.”
“If we’re talking unusual, you’re no better.”
“What? How am I unusual?”
“You call your classmate ‘-ssi.’”
“Then what should I call him? You’re the one who told us to use honorifics with classmates.”
“Well, you’re not wrong. But after working together this much, isn’t it time to drop formalities?”
“Once I start speaking formally, it feels more awkward to stop…”
Sohyang laughed awkwardly.
Kwon Suyoung chuckled and sat, flipping through the contract.
A first-year high schooler. Same age as Sohyang.
She’d thought he would be a clueless kid, but he spoke clearly, knew what he wanted, and chose his words carefully.
And most importantly, he wasn’t arrogant.
With that level of talent at his age, arrogance would be expected, but there was none.
People like that lasted a long time in this industry.
“You seem to really like him.”
“To the point I’m greedy for him.”
Kwon Suyoung laughed softly. It wasn’t a joke. She really felt that way.
If the company had more freedom, she would’ve offered Hajun an exclusive composer contract on the spot.
“And I’m not the only one.”
“Huh?”
“A lot of people are asking who arranged ‘Rough.’”
She’d told them it was a student in Sohyang’s class, and it wouldn’t take long before they figured out it was Yoon Hajun.
“Guess we’ll see him around soon.”
Not as ROC’s CEO, but as someone who simply loved music, Kwon Suyoung was excited.
What kind of songs would Hajun create in the future?
“Anyway, I’d better finish my own work.”
She got up and headed to her studio.
Before Sohyang knew it, she was alone in the meeting room. She was about to head back to the practice room when her phone buzzed.
It was from Yoon Hajun.
[Do you happen to know any good vocal training teachers?]
…Huh?
Vocal training?
Sohyang blinked in surprise for a moment, then quickly replied.
[I’ll look into it.]
Right after that, she opened her contacts and started messaging people she thought might know the best instructors.
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