71– Genius Producer. (3)
71– Genius Producer. (3)
71.
“Hello!”
“Oh, it’s been a while, Chaerim.”
As Seo Chaerim walked into MM Entertainment with a bright smile, the staff greeted her with smiles of their own. Seeing them, Seo Chaerim bowed her head again.
It was something she’d thought for a long time, but for a company that only had one contracted artist so far, didn’t it have way too many employees? Well, they did say they brought people over from Komm.
“The CEO is inside, right?”
“No, the CEO went to a meeting today.”
“A meeting?”
“You know, Kim Hanol.”
“Ah.”
At the name that came out of the employee’s mouth, Seo Chaerim frowned slightly. Kim Hanol. The person her uncle—the CEO—was putting in a lot of effort to recruit.
But Seo Chaerim couldn’t understand why her uncle was so intent on bringing him in. Of course, she acknowledged his singing ability. His first album had been shockingly good. But that was all.
It had been five years since Kim Hanol debuted. In that time, he’d released only six songs at most. And five of those were tracks from his first album, which meant he’d released just one song in all the remaining years.
Wondering if something had happened, she looked into it on her own, but it wasn’t anything like that—he was just lazy. And there were rumors about women, too. Apparently his previous company, “zen,” had a hard time dealing with that. The result wasn’t a renewal, but a termination of his contract.
And yet they were bringing in someone like that.
He never listens to me.
Feeling like it was a waste of money, Seo Chaerim had desperately tried to stop her uncle. But he said people deserved a chance, that people could change, and in the end, he went ahead and signed the contract.
Her uncle was a good person. He had a good eye and a clear management philosophy. But he was too good-natured, and that was the problem.
“Haa…”
Seo Chaerim let out a deep sigh. Seeing her like that, the employees smiled, thinking she was just sulking because she came to the office and couldn’t see her uncle.
“Oh, Hajun is here, though.”
At that, one of the employees spoke to her. Seo Chaerim nodded as if it couldn’t be helped. In fact, she already knew Yoon Hajun was at MM Entertainment.
She’d come here today in the first place to see Yoon Hajun and Han Goyo. Yoon Hajun—the first artist to sign with MM Entertainment on Seo Chaerim’s recommendation.
And Seo Chaerim had very high expectations for Yoon Hajun. For the sake of her own future, his success was extremely important. On top of that, everyone she was currently working on was connected to Yoon Hajun.
Han Goyo, and Yoon Suyeon.
Missing out on Kim Taeyoung was a shame, but it couldn’t be helped.
“When do you think the CEO will be back?”
“A little after four, maybe?”
“Then I’ll go talk with Hajun for a bit in the meantime.”
“Sure.”
The employee nodded, and Seo Chaerim headed toward the recording studio where Yoon Hajun was.
Finding the studio where Yoon Hajun was working was very easy. After all, the only artist under contract was Yoon Hajun.
She soon found the studio, knocked carefully, and went inside.
And Seo Chaerim couldn’t say a single word.
Normally, she should’ve greeted him—saying it’d been a while, asking how he’d been—but her mouth wouldn’t open.
The atmosphere inside the studio was frighteningly quiet.
Inside the booth was Han Goyo, while Yoon Hajun sat at the desk, adjusting something. Then he carefully spoke.
“They say time heals all wounds, but all that’s left for me is evil. This part should be more depressing. And let’s do it like you’re muttering it. You know, that ASMR thing? Like you’re whispering.”
At his words, Han Goyo nodded.
The song started, and Han Goyo sang.
—They say time heals all wounds.
But all that’s left for me is evil.
Oh…
Seo Chaerim exclaimed inwardly in admiration. She’d heard that Han Goyo was trying a different singing style, but she hadn’t expected it to change this much.
On top of that, the melody she’d worked on with Blue Aka was unbearably depressing. She hadn’t even heard it from the beginning, but just listening made her feel suffocated.
“Wait.”
As Seo Chaerim was admiring it, Yoon Hajun stopped the song. After thinking for a moment, he listened again and spoke to Han Goyo.
“‘But all that’s left for me is evil’—let’s go a bit faster there.”
—Then it’ll be faster than the pitch.
“It’s fine. Just try it once.”
Han Goyo nodded and continued recording.
Seo Chaerim stood quietly, watching.
I felt it last time too—he’s really picky.
She’d felt it while recording “Main” as well, but Yoon Hajun was a strong perfectionist. If he didn’t like something, he’d make them repeat it no matter how many times.
Well, that was probably why the results were so good.
How many retakes had there been? By the time Seo Chaerim’s legs started to ache, Yoon Hajun finally nodded, looking satisfied.
“Good. Let’s take a short break, then continue.”
Han Goyo nodded and took off her headset. As she moved to come out of the booth, and Yoon Hajun stretched his stiff body from working, Seo Chaerim carefully spoke up.
“Looks like things are going well.”
“Ah—!”
Startled by her voice, Yoon Hajun screamed mid-stretch. It was so funny that Seo Chaerim couldn’t help laughing.
“What, were you that surprised? Did you see a ghost or something?”
“Anyone would be surprised if a voice suddenly spoke from behind when they thought no one was there. More importantly, when did you get here?”
He let out a deep breath, clearly shaken. Just a moment ago, he’d looked serious, professional—almost sexy—but now he looked like a kid.
“I came in earlier, but you were working, so I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re allowed to just walk into the studio like that?”
“You told me to come straight to the studio when I got here.”
At Yoon Hajun’s complaint, Seo Chaerim replied incredulously. He nodded, remembering. “Ah. Right.”
“Still, if you came, you should’ve, you know, said something.”
“I didn’t want to interrupt your work.”
And besides…
Yoon Hajun pouted slightly.
Was he really that startled?
“Aww, Hajun. Were you scared? That shocking?”
Seo Chaerim teased him in a babying tone. Yoon Hajun waved his hands, clearly displeased at being treated like a child.
Just then, Han Goyo came out of the booth, noticed the scene, and frowned. After hesitating for a moment, she walked over and stood behind Yoon Hajun, looking at Seo Chaerim.
“Hi, Goyo.”
“Hello.”
From behind Yoon Hajun, Han Goyo nodded slightly. Seeing her cautious, cat-like demeanor, Seo Chaerim smiled faintly. Is she going to scratch me?
Thinking that, she spoke to Han Goyo in a friendly manner.
“It’s been a while.”
“It has.”
“How’s the company studio?”
“…It’s nice.”
She didn’t particularly have any thoughts, but since it was the company Yoon Hajun had signed with, she answered that way. From Han Goyo’s perspective, as long as she could work with Yoon Hajun, it didn’t matter where it was—here, at school, or even at Haul Studio.
“Is that so?”
Not knowing that, Seo Chaerim nodded, satisfied. Right. Just let it sink in slowly.
“Heh…”
Seeing her, Yoon Hajun let out a sigh. He could clearly see what Seo Chaerim was trying to do.
Still, it wasn’t anything bad. It wasn’t because he’d signed with them, but MM Entertainment really was a good company. And Seo Chaerim was a good person, too.
More than anything, Yoon Hajun didn’t want Han Goyo to disappear.
Even now, knowing her family situation, he couldn’t understand why she disappeared. Her background was unfortunate, but it wasn’t enough to justify vanishing when her talent was this outstanding.
Is there something else going on?
The timing of Han Goyo’s disappearance was before graduation. She didn’t even attend Seolwon Arts High’s graduation ceremony—she just vanished.
Like a mirage.
Yoon Hajun looked at her. Her expression wasn’t as blank as before. Back then, she’d looked like a doll that might shatter just from looking at it, but now she looked at least human.
“What?”
Han Goyo asked, noticing his gaze.
Yoon Hajun smiled softly.
“Let’s get back to work.”
“……”
Han Goyo said nothing.
She only pushed out her lower lip slightly.
Just like Yoon Hajun had earlier.
§ § §
After talking with Seo Chaerim for a bit, we got back to work. I’d felt it before, but MM Entertainment’s recording facilities were excellent.
And all of them were basically mine to use. The studio I was working in right now was my personal one. Thinking about that made me oddly excited.
It felt like playing with a ton of new toys. I tried functions I’d never used before, marveled at the sound quality.
Seeing me like that, Seo Chaerim nodded in satisfaction. Tsk. I don’t really like that look.
Between that and how she talked earlier, doesn’t she really see me as a kid? Sure, I’m a year younger, but if you count how long I’ve lived, I’ve got over ten years on her.
After working for a long while, we took another break. It was already evening. We hadn’t even eaten lunch, so I was starving, and Goyo looked exhausted too.
“If you’re tired, you can say you want to rest. Don’t push yourself and ruin your condition.”
At my words, Han Goyo nodded. As we were thinking about what to eat for dinner, Seo Chaerim made a suspicious chuckle and pulled something out of her pocket.
“If there’s anything you want to eat, order whatever you like.”
What she took out was a corporate card.
Wait, why does she have that?
“You’re not even an employee.”
“It’s fine. I’m the CEO’s niece.”
“Isn’t that illegal?”
“Well, if I use it alone, it is. But if I use it with you, it’s fine. And this card isn’t even mine—it’s Jeong Jaeho’s. He gave it to me to buy you food.”
Come to think of it, I’m technically an employee too, so using the company card should be fine. When I work with my manager, they always pay for meals with it.
“So, what do you want to eat?”
“But is it okay to order food here?”
“As long as we clean up properly, it’s fine. The staff order food all the time.”
They’re really free about that. After a bit of thought, we ordered burgers from a nearby gourmet burger place.
While we waited and chatted, someone knocked on the studio door.
Already? Did the food arrive?
Thinking that, I opened the door.
But the person outside wasn’t the delivery driver.
It was a man dressed in a refined suit—Seo Hoon, the CEO of MM Entertainment. Beside him stood another man in casual clothes.
“We’re not interrupting, are we?”
“No, we were just taking a break.”
“That’s a relief. Well, the reason I came is to introduce a new addition to the company. This here is Yoon Hajun, our first artist and producer. And this is Kim Hanol, who’s just joined us.”
Seo Hoon introduced the man beside him with an excited voice. I bowed slightly. So they really did sign him.
“Hello.”
“Ah, yes. Hello.”
Kim Hanol bowed, his voice unusually neat for a man. After greeting us, he looked at me and frowned slightly.
“You’re a second-year high school student?”
“Yes.”
“…Hmm. Impressive. We’re family now, so let’s get along.”
The tone didn’t sound very sincere.
Does he really want to get along?
I nodded politely anyway. Soon after, Seo Hoon and Kim Hanol left to greet others.
After closing the studio door and sitting back down, Seo Chaerim spoke in a displeased voice.
“So he really signed.”
“Guess you don’t like him?”
“No. I don’t. His reputation isn’t good. Especially with women.”
That’s probably not a rumor—it’s the truth. I held back from saying it. Kim Hanol’s woman problems were infamous.
Honestly, his love life might be more famous than his songs. It wasn’t just that he had many women—it was who those women were.
From dating rumors to tabloid gossip, every woman linked to him was either married or divorced.
There’d even been lawsuits over affairs.
In a way, he’s got remarkably consistent taste.
“Instead of someone like that, he should’ve at least met someone I recommended.”
“You recommended someone else besides me?”
“Oh, not a student. One of the teachers.”
“A teacher?”
“Yeah. Someone you know too. Teacher Ha Hyoju.”
At the unexpected name, I blinked.
Why is Teacher Ha Hyoju coming up here?