76 – Genius Producer. (8)
76 – Genius Producer. (8)
76
Right before Star Kingdom’s rehearsal, Jin Ilman was seriously agonizing over Yoon Hajun.
What he was worried about was Hajun’s reactions during rehearsal.
In Jin Ilman’s eyes, Yoon Hajun was more than qualified to be the “main character.” He was actually planning to edit the show in that direction.
But there was one fatal problem.
A decisive scene was missing.
Just a little. If the picture were just a tiny bit prettier.
He wasn’t asking for anything huge.
Just that kind of moment where, while watching the rehearsal or the live stage, Hajun would point out what was lacking, and cheer when something landed.
A moment where Blue Aka on stage and Yoon Hajun under the stage connected with each other.
If he could get just that, it would be the perfect shot.
Should I just ask him?
But if he did, it could kill the natural feel.
The lifeblood of a reaction was how natural it was.
If Jin Ilman asked Hajun directly, Hajun would be conscious of Jin Ilman every time he reacted. That wasn’t what Jin Ilman wanted.
With cameras installed everywhere, Hajun was already stiffer than usual. If he also had to be mindful of Jin Ilman on top of that, the odds of awkward reactions were high.
And then the viewers’ emotion would be dulled, and the shot would be ruined.
Or do I trust Hajun?
From everything he’d seen so far, there was a good chance Hajun would react naturally even without being asked.
So it came down to a choice: trust Hajun and wait for a natural moment, or manufacture it intentionally.
He had to decide.
How long did he wrestle with it?
In the end, Jin Ilman made his decision.
He would trust Yoon Hajun.
If Hajun was the kind of person Jin Ilman had been watching, then even without being asked, he would give the reactions Jin Ilman wanted.
Believing that, Jin Ilman went into filming.
And Yoon Hajun repaid that trust.
“A little more to the side.”
“Yes, there. The line reaches that far, right?”
“Right. There!”
Under the stage, Hajun positioned Blue Aka. And when Blue Aka started playing on stage, Hajun looked up and nodded.
It was weaker than Jin Ilman had hoped, but still enough to satisfy him.
To be fair, Hajun had his own side of things to feel wronged about.
Blue Aka was a band. That meant they couldn’t move around on stage. They had to keep playing instruments, so flashy staging wasn’t possible.
And more than anything, Blue Aka’s members’ playing skills were so far above Hajun’s that the parts Hajun could even intervene in were limited.
Still, from Jin Ilman’s perspective, it was plenty.
Watching Hajun, Jin Ilman smiled.
It looked like the final product would be far more satisfying than when he’d first planned Star Kingdom.
§ § §
“Is this your first time at a broadcast station?”
After rehearsal, before the real shoot—the competition itself—Kang Minseok asked me while I wandered around the station halls.
I thought for a moment, then nodded.
In my previous life, I’d experienced it a few times, but in this life, it was my first.
“Hajun, you’re a student.”
“Ah, right. Damn. When I’m with you, I forget you’re a student sometimes. What kind of student is that good?”
At Kang Minseok’s complaining, I smiled.
There was swearing in it, but it was still a compliment.
It didn’t feel bad.
“Still, once Hajun gets exposed on broadcast even once, people will start calling you from everywhere.”
“I don’t really want to be on broadcast.”
If I were a singer, I’d have shown up aggressively, but I wasn’t a singer—I was a producer. For promotion, mm Entertainment or the singers I worked with would do it.
Did I really need to?
I’d rather spend that time working.
“That’s a shame. I think you fit broadcast better than us.”
At that, I gave a bitter smile. Blue Aka didn’t avoid broadcasts because they didn’t want to go on. They’d tried several times, but every time, the results were bad.
Just like me in my previous life.
“I’m going to run to the snack bar for a bit.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
There was still time before the competition, so I stood up and headed to the snack bar. I wanted something to chew on.
Sure, the production crew had snacks in the waiting room—sandwiches, chocolate, candy.
But none of that was my taste. I liked salty things more than sweet, and I was a rice-and-soup person, not a sandwich person.
If you’re going to fill your stomach, you need a solid meal.
What’s with the bread?
“One bag of chips and a cola, please.”
I bought the snack and drink I liked and sat down. It would be rude to stink up the waiting room eating by myself, so I planned to eat here and go back.
Scrolling on my phone, I ate salty-seasoned chips and drank cola.
Hmm. I hate sweet things, so why did cola taste so good?
“Uh?”
While I was having that pointless thought, I heard a surprised voice from somewhere. Then came the sound of heels—click, click—running.
And the sound got faster and closer.
“Hm?”
I turned my head—and saw Jin Sohyang sprinting toward me in sky-high heels.
I did wonder why she was here, but more than that, I wondered how she could even run in heels that high.
“It’s been a while!”
Jin Sohyang arrived in front of me and greeted me with a bright smile. Yeah, it really had been a while. I nodded.
“Yeah. First time since break ended?”
Jin Sohyang hadn’t been able to come to school even after winter break ended.
It couldn’t be helped. Hwayangyeonhwa was doing insanely well.
Five straight weeks at number one already?
Their fans were exploding, and they were showing up everywhere—events, variety shows.
And Jin Sohyang said they were even holding a concert at the end of the year.
“But what are you doing here, Hajun?”
“Ah, I’m appearing on a show.”
“A show? Oh, that Star Kingdom you mentioned before?”
“Yeah. You—schedule?”
“Yes. I just finished a variety shoot.”
I looked her over. Hmm. Wearing something you’d normally only wear on stage to film a variety show—she must be exhausted.
“Are you done for the day?”
“No, not yet. We’re moving from the studio to an outdoor location, so I don’t have much time.”
At her regretful tone, I nodded.
“School starts soon anyway.”
“Ah, about that… I don’t think I’ll be able to go to school for a while.”
“That busy?”
“Yes. I have overseas filming too. I’ll attend exams and events, but I’ll probably miss all other classes.”
“Can’t be helped.”
While I was talking with Jin Sohyang, a camera came toward us.
I wondered if it was her team, but the camera operator looked familiar—so it seemed like it was from Star Kingdom.
“Is the camera okay?”
I asked Jin Sohyang while looking at it.
If she was uncomfortable, I was going to ask them to cut it.
Jin Sohyang hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
“It’s fine. We’re classmates, and you were our producer for this album too. If the relationship is clear, people won’t say weird stuff.”
Weird stuff—like a scandal?
Well, if Jin Sohyang said it was fine, then it was fine.
“Then since we ran into each other, give us a message of support.”
“Why? Nervous?”
Jin Sohyang asked with a playful smile.
And I nodded honestly.
“I don’t know if it’s nerves or tension. I’m just not used to being in front of cameras.”
I wasn’t even going on stage myself. I was just helping with preparation, but I was exhausted.
I didn’t know if it was because of the cameras, or because I was a homebody.
And honestly, I was also happy to see her. You know how it feels—when you’ve been surrounded by people you’re not close to, and then you run into someone you actually are close to, and you end up feeling even more glad than usual.
“You’re working really hard.”
Jin Sohyang looked at me with pity.
Then she mumbled “support, support” under her breath, and smiled at the camera.
“Producer Yoon Hajun, and Blue Aka band members! Fighting! I’m looking forward to a great stage.”
She looked at me like, Is this enough? I nodded.
“Thanks.”
“It’s nothing. Ah, I should get going. See you later!”
Jin Sohyang checked her phone once, then disappeared at a fast pace.
It was chaotic, but I felt a little healed.
“Looks like you’re close with Sohyang.”
The VJ holding the camera asked me.
I thought for a moment, then nodded.
“We’re in the same class, and I worked on one of the tracks on Hwayangyeonhwa’s album.”
“Ah, I see.”
“But why are you filming me here? Isn’t the shoot only in the waiting room?”
“Ah, the director told me to film you.”
Why?
I blinked, completely lost.
§ § §
After talking with Jin Sohyang, Yoon Hajun returned to the waiting room and sat down. He chatted lightly with the Blue Aka members, then looked at the TV.
The competition would start soon. Thankfully, the waiting room TV would let them watch the other teams’ stages.
Looks like they planned to use reaction shots while watching the performances.
“Our turn is fifth, right?”
“Yes.”
At Won Seongmin’s answer, Yoon Hajun looked at the running order sheet on the table.
First was a rapper, second a dance singer, third a ballad, and fourth an idol group.
Then Blue Aka performed, and there were two more teams after them.
Yoon Hajun nodded after confirming. The order wasn’t bad.
Soon, the competition began.
Watching the rapper open the show, Yoon Hajun let out a thoughtful hum.
In the end, Star Kingdom was a battle program. After each stage, the audience voted. The team with the most votes won.
Since teams representing different genres were facing off, there was a subtle pride battle too.
Blue Aka’s members stared hard at the other performances.
Because Jin Ilman had cast people with real ability even if their fame was lacking, the stage quality was high.
But the audience reaction was strangely lukewarm.
The audience seats were filled by inviting people who liked each genre. So for genres they didn’t care about, the reactions were naturally cold. And since the performers weren’t famous, interest dropped too.
There’s a reason this kind of show disappeared.
The program concept wasn’t bad, but the filming schedule was too short.
If they’d done it over, say, ten weeks, then the people who became fans would’ve supported the contestants.
But that was exactly why it ended as a pilot.
First stage finished. Second stage. Third stage. Then the fourth stage began.
The fourth team was a male idol group called “Closer,” and they got the loudest cheers so far—the hottest response.
“Hm. We’re after that.”
Watching that stage, Yoon Hajun clicked his tongue.
Of all things, to go right after them.
He’d thought the order was good, but maybe it wasn’t.
“Can’t be helped.”
“If we had a good-looking guy too, that would’ve helped.”
“Ugh, you ugly bastards.”
Blue Aka’s members joked as they stood up. It was their turn.
Yoon Hajun stood as well and left the waiting room with them.
Soon, they arrived under the stage.
Now Blue Aka would go up, and Yoon Hajun had to watch from below.
He was about to wish them luck when Won Seongmin spoke.
“Hajun.”
“Hm?”
“As the producer, give us a message of support.”
Won Seongmin grinned.
Yoon Hajun chuckled lightly.
A producer’s message of support…
What should he say?
After thinking, he opened his mouth while looking at the members.
“I trust the song you made and I finished. Go sing it like you mean it.”
“What do you mean you finished it, you punk.”
“Hey. You may have played the instruments, but combining it all into a finished song—that’s the producer.”
“That’s true.”
Won Seongmin nodded.
Right. The one who finished it was the producer.
So—
“If the reaction’s bad, we’ll say it’s Hajun’s fault.”
“Yes. I’ll take responsibility.”
The producer, Yoon Hajun, took all the responsibility too.
“So go enjoy it.”
“Yes, we’ll be back.”
Won Seongmin said that and went up on stage. The other members patted Yoon Hajun’s shoulder or said they’d be back like Won Seongmin as they went up.
After confirming that, Yoon Hajun moved to a position where he could watch the stage.
On stage, Blue Aka’s members looked at each other and nodded.
Then they began to play for real.
The opening was the drummer, Choi Minseok. With muscular arms, he played powerfully, pulling at the audience’s ears.
After him, bassist Ahn Hain’s fingers moved brilliantly. Not their usual funky playing, but something quiet and slow.
Just those two together might’ve sounded like discord.
But when Kang Minseok’s keyboard and Won Seongmin’s guitar layered in, it became a complete performance.
As Blue Aka’s playing fully kicked in, people stared at them, exclaiming in admiration.
And Yoon Hajun was the same.
Bands really are about live performances.
No matter how good the speakers are, no matter how carefully you craft the audio source—
Nothing compares to live.
Then Won Seongmin’s vocals announced the start of the song.
Won Seongmin’s singing was clean. It wasn’t like he was unbelievably good, but it wasn’t burdensome to listen to.
Then Kang Minseok’s voice. Unlike Won Seongmin, Kang Minseok had a rich tone.
Their voices blended, making the song fuller.
Then the song ended, and Won Seongmin’s solo guitar came in.
Won Seongmin, who’d been known as a guitar prodigy since he was young, let his fingers breathe fire.
As his fingers moved with flashy technique, the guitar spat out brilliant notes.
At that, Blue Aka’s members looked at each other.
Yeah. We knew it.
Won Seongmin was usually quiet, but the moment he got on stage, he turned into a wild stallion.
He always went on a solo rampage.
And Blue Aka’s members always supported him.
As if refusing to lose to Won Seongmin, the other members piled on more intensity in their playing.
Watching them, Yoon Hajun smiled with satisfaction.
He told them to enjoy it, and they really were enjoying it.
Yeah. That’s how it should be.
Like a teacher watching a student grow, Yoon Hajun nodded.
And maybe they saw it—Blue Aka’s members also looked toward Yoon Hajun and nodded.
Whether it was coincidence, or whether they truly saw him and nodded—
That couldn’t be known.
But it didn’t matter.
Watching that, Jin Ilman clenched his fist.
Yes!
The exact moment he’d been desperate for was now captured on camera.