Just Kidding
Kang Beom-jun let out a deep sigh the moment he saw the call from one particular madman on what should have been a golden weekend.
It felt like they must have shared some horrific karmic bond in a past life.
With that cheerful thought, he answered the phone.
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“CEO, I’d like to use the company studio.”
“Oh, that? I already told you to use it whenever you want. I even gave you your own key.”
“Still, I should get your permission. You did declare a weekend work ban starting last week.”
Until recently, the staff at RT Entertainment had been practically forced to come in on weekends. Their small headcount left them no choice. But now that they had reinforced their numbers and reached a more stable phase, there was no longer any need to burn everyone out.
Ryu Won, however, didn’t have the luxury of rest.
“I’ll only need it until tomorrow morning. There’s a song I have to make right away.”
Kang Beom-jun tilted his head, puzzled. Nothing but contradictions kept coming out of the boy’s mouth.
Until tomorrow morning? (Tomorrow was Monday. Ryu Won was a middle school student. What about school?)
A song he had to make right away? (It had only been a month since Baek Yerin’s album dropped. Why the sudden urgency?)
Unable to make sense of it, he had no choice but to ask.
“Tell me what’s going on. Slowly. I’ll help however I can.”
“Whoa… this is actually kind of touching?”
“Consider it payback for Music Save. So what’s the matter?”
“That day you told me a new dream had been born inside me, remember?”
“Right. You said you wanted to see Yerin’s stage on an even bigger scale.”
“Yes. But I think I need to move that timeline up. Venue doesn’t matter. If possible, within two weeks.”
“Two weeks? Suddenly?”
“The truth is…”
Kang Beom-jun listened quietly as Ryu Won continued. The more he heard, the more a bitter smile crept across his face.
“Man… when you tell me a story like that, how am I supposed to say no?”
After ending the call with Kang Beom-jun, Ryu Won stepped into the studio and pulled a small notebook from his pocket. His gaze stopped on a page filled with neat, pretty handwriting.
It wasn’t his. It was Baek Yerin’s.
Yesterday she had cried openly, pouring out her honest grief. Ryu Won had always known how deeply she loved her mother. But because he wasn’t the one living it, he could never fully grasp the weight of that love.
That was exactly why he had made the request.
Put your true heart into this notebook. Write the words you want to say to the person most precious to you right now.
The moment he reread the sentences—no, the lyrics—she had written, he finally understood.
This was a letter.
A letter Baek Yerin had left for the person she loved most in the world.
And he intended to turn that letter into a song.
“It’s going to be a pretty sad piece.”
It might end up with an obvious title and obvious lyrics. But that wasn’t what worried him.
There was only one thing that truly concerned him.
The fact that the person who would have to sing this song was Baek Yerin.
Monday.
RT Entertainment held its first regular morning meeting in a long while. Even this had been hastily rescheduled by Kang Beom-jun’s urgent notice the day before. The moment the meeting began, he made a single proposal.
“A concert?”
“Yes. The timing is a little early, but I believe right now is actually perfect.”
The entire world was saturated with stories about Baek Yerin. In other words, it was the ideal moment for marketing.
The problem was—
“Within two weeks?!”
Kang Beom-jun’s proposed timeline was so aggressive that everyone jumped in shock.
“CEO… we’ll all support holding a concert without objection. But two weeks seems a bit tight, doesn’t it?”
“Exactly. Just securing a venue will be difficult, and the outsourced teams will definitely struggle.”
A concert required an enormous number of specialists. From the stage director who oversaw the entire production—like a film director for a movie—to the stage crew, sound, visuals, broadcasting, special effects, safety, and even the power generator team. All of them came together to create one complete work of art. That was why most people outsourced the entire operation to professional concert planners.
Even from the planner’s perspective, two weeks was undeniably tight. Kang Beom-jun knew this better than anyone. So he had no choice but to explain the reason—Baek Yerin’s mother and the additional plan Ryu Won had shared.
“……”
The instant Kang Beom-jun finished speaking, the conference room fell into a heavy silence.
In that solemn atmosphere, Oh Do-hwa, head of the creative department, scratched the back of his head and opened his mouth.
“I feel like the villain now for trying to talk the CEO out of it earlier. In that spirit, I fully support Ryu Won’s idea. That kid… he’s got real romance in him.”
“I agree. And I’m sure everyone at this table feels the same.”
“Yes. We’ve all grown far too attached to those children over the past few months.”
Kang Beom-jun listened to his directors’ decisions with a faint smile, thinking once again that he had chosen his people well.
“That said, if we follow Ryu Won’s plan, the song needs to be finished within the remaining time, correct? It’s not an existing track but a completely new composition, so it will take considerable time…”
At those words, Kang Beom-jun simply offered another bitter smile.
As if that would be a problem.
That composer was anything but ordinary. And the most important factor here was that this project was directly connected to Baek Yerin.
He’ll probably pour his entire heart into it more than anyone else.
All they had to do was wait. Wait and see what kind of incredible picture that boy would paint this time.
Monday afternoon.
Baek Yerin sat in a chair inside the RT Entertainment studio, staring blankly at Ryu Won as he worked the computer.
Two days earlier, after she had bared her honest feelings, he had said this:
Let’s turn the way you think about your mom and the words you want to say to her into a song. And then let’s have you perform it yourself on a big stage called a concert.
—So, in that spirit, I want you to write it yourself.
—W-write what?
—The lyrics, obviously. If I do everything, it loses its meaning, doesn’t it? I’ll help as much as I can from the side, so just write comfortably.
At first the suggestion had been so sudden she couldn’t write a single word. But the subject was what it was, and with Ryu Won’s gentle guidance, she somehow managed to finish the lyrics in just two hours.
And then—
—I’ll do my best to have it ready for you to hear on Monday.
Ryu Won had kept that promise.
He had completed the song in the span of a single weekend.
“Want to listen?”
Ryu Won asked her carefully. Baek Yerin nodded without hesitation.
“Yes. I really want to hear it.”
From her perspective, there was no way she could refuse, nor any reason to. She knew exactly who he had suffered for over the weekend. It had been solely for her and her mother. If only out of respect for that sincerity, she had to listen. No—she wanted to listen.
Ever since she began singing, Ryu Won’s songs had always been by her side.
To be honest, the first time I heard them I was shocked at how good they were.
His music was incredibly captivating. Sometimes it was flashy, sometimes elegant, sometimes it warmed the heart… If you had to express it in color, his songs were pure white—capable of becoming any shade at all.
So of course she was excited. Even if the song he was about to play was a sad one.
When Baek Yerin nodded, Ryu Won gave a bitter smile for some reason. He moved the mouse and started the track. The melody began to flow from the speakers, and Baek Yerin’s eyes widened as she realized a certain truth.
Now she understood why he had smiled so bitterly before playing it.
Until now, his songs had always fit her like perfectly tailored clothes, easy and natural to sing. But this song… was the complete opposite.
“What is this… why is the mood so heavy?”
Kang Beom-jun had just walked into the studio where Baek Yerin and Ryu Won were sitting. He tilted his head at their strangely gloomy expressions.
“Is it because of the song?”
“Well… you could say that.”
Ryu Won’s answer only deepened Kang Beom-jun’s curiosity. Just what kind of song had he created to make the kids react like this?
“Perfect timing. CEO, you should listen too.”
Without another word, Ryu Won played the track again.
A short while later, after the song finished, Kang Beom-jun’s eyes had turned red. If you listened closely, you could even hear him sniffling. It was exactly what you’d expect from a Ryu Won composition. Perhaps the best he had ever done at shaking emotions to their core.
If Baek Yerin were to sing this song herself on a concert stage…
We’re in big trouble.
Kang Beom-jun felt such tremendous excitement that he could hardly wait to witness the scene. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to experience it from the audience’s perspective.
Originally, Ryu Won hadn’t planned to reveal the song to anyone until the day of the concert. But while composing it, the sound of a certain instrument had naturally found its way in, and one person immediately came to mind as the perfect performer for that part.
“You want me to join in too?”
“Yes. The first verse and the final section have acoustic guitar, right? I was hoping you could handle those parts, CEO.”
If Kang Beom-jun appeared on stage as a special guest, the atmosphere would brighten in an instant. Dropping this song into that brightened mood would deliver a powerful twist to the audience.
Ryu Won continued.
“After all, when people in Korea talk about folk songs, your name is the first one that comes up.”
“Well… that’s true.”
“And there’s no way your guitar skills have gotten rusty just because you took a break from performing.”
Everything Ryu Won said was perfectly reasonable. Yet the more Kang Beom-jun listened, the more one question kept bothering him.
“My role is supporting anyway, so appearing on stage is fine… but are you expecting me to do it for free? I may not look it, but I’m quite expensive.”
“……”
“Just kidding.”
Ryu Won wondered to himself.
Was it really a joke…?