How I Accidentally Became a Producer
Yoo Na-ri had sent a Discord message saying she'd gone to IG Entertainment. I glanced at it—(Luna-ri): I'm heading to IG Ent! Don't worry, I'll talk it out well~—and set Discord aside.
I'd have preferred she just handled it over the phone instead of going in person, but if she wanted to go herself, what could I say? Besides, the guy who couldn't even talk properly on the phone had no room to complain. I was worried, sure, but honestly, there wasn't much I could do. Talk money, contracts, company stuff? I'd just avoid eye contact and sweat bullets. And anyway, this contract was probably more about Na-ri as the main act. She'd handle it fine. So, like always, I fired up Cubase.
I laid down a new track on a blank project file, loaded a piano VST, and hit a chord. Ding— The note echoed through the room. When it faded, I hit the next one. Ding—
“……”
It was quiet. Too quiet—the keyboard clicks sounded deafening. A month ago, the silence had been familiar. For six years, the noises in my room had been predictable. But lately, something felt missing. Like a track with the entire drum layer stripped out.
I finally pulled my hands from the MIDI keyboard and grabbed the mouse. Click— LINK's main page loaded.
“……”
My eyes drifted naturally to the VTuber category. Luna-ri's channel. Offline. She was at IG today, so of course. I missed her casual chatter flowing softly, or even her humming practice tunes—anything filling the space. But not today.
I used to browse MIDI forums or secondhand gear markets. At some point, that habit had shifted here. The crowded chat made me uneasy at first, but the sound filling my room brought its own comfort. What was this contradiction? Lately, I didn't even know myself anymore. Had I turned into some overly complicated, finicky person?
Scrolling LINK's main page, I spotted names from the tournament. Sion. Kurogami Yui.
‘……Just a quick peek.’
I rarely watched any VTubers besides Luna-ri, so curiosity got the better of me. Sion's stream had about 1,400 viewers. She was singing a ballad—flawless, as expected. Not a hint of waver in that stability. I cranked up my earphones without thinking. Was this the aura of a tournament champ? Fans' awe flooded the chat.
One song ended, short chit-chat, another song. Chit-chat done, back to singing. After 30 minutes, I saw the pattern: song, talk, song, talk, song.
“……”
I glanced at the chat. It exploded during talk segments, but slowed way down during songs. Viewer count dipped slightly whenever she stopped talking and grabbed the mic.
‘Even singing that well, she's losing people.’
Advice popped into my head, but I shoved it down. Not my stream.
Then Sion took a sip of water.
"Haa, I've sung a lot today. My throat's killing me."
[Dinner? Oh, dinner... I ordered something earlier.]
She paused, her avatar's movements shrinking. About two seconds? A brief silence.
[……I should stop, but I ordered again. Haha.]
She laughed it off. Chat lit up with ‘lololol’, ‘What'd you get?’, ‘Eating again?’ Light stuff. ‘Pig lolol’ got sniped and vanished before my eyes. Her platinum blonde hair glowed softly, pale skin brightening the mood. But something felt off. Despite the avatar, a heaviness seeped through her voice and expressions—something gloomy she couldn't hide. Maybe I was overthinking. An inexplicable unease flickered, but I wasn't in a position to dig deeper. I moused over to the next stream.
I was a bit surprised entering Kurogami Yui's. 2,800 viewers. She was doodling on a digital canvas, ranting wildly, and the chat was chaos.
"So like! Yesterday I was starving, bought cup ramen at a convenience store? I hate spicy, so I picked mild. No chili marks or anything. I double-checked super carefully, but the second I ate it, my tongue went AAAAH! Why do Koreans always make everything spicy. My butt's on fire."
[I did check properly?! Yui's eyes are fine?! Japan doesn't have this! That's a JAS law violation!]
“……”
Her Korean was impressive, even with occasional final consonant drops. The mushy pronunciations were just cute—practically a charm point. But what surprised me more was her streaming skill. She dragged a single ramen story for 10 minutes, chat nonstop. Reading reactions live, layering responses, shifting expressions, tossing new bait when momentum dipped. In the tournament, I'd just thought she's good at singing and moved on. As a streamer, though? The most enviable talent. Luna-ri still fumbled with her audience daily, but Yui juggled 2,800 solo. Must be years of honed expertise.
The ramen tale stretched to triangle kimbap when a donation hit.
[Oh, wait! Song? Sure sure, I'll sing today. Pulling up the songbook~]
Kurogami Yui shared a sheet link in the chat announcement. A neat list sorted by JPOP, KPOP, anime OSTs—tons of effort, huge catalog. Her go-to songs, I guessed. This was a songbook.
I scrolled through.
“……Huh?”
My eyes stopped. Bottom, ‘Other’ category.
Broken Clock — Young-il (MR self-made ◯)
The song Luna-ri sang in the Virtual Voice Fight semifinals. My song. The one Yui lost to in the quarters. No official MR anywhere. But ‘self-made accompaniment.’
Stripping MR from a stream audio mix ain't easy. Know audio editing? Phase inversion to isolate. AI vocal removal exists now, but won't get clean MR alone. Missing parts? Fill 'em manually. The person I beat making her own MR to practice it? Kinda weird feeling.
No requests for Broken Clock from chat. I didn't request either—awkward spending money, and requesting my own song? Embarrassing. But I was curious. How'd Yui sound on it? Her rock vocals would color it totally different from Luna-ri.
‘……Wanna hear it someday. How much per song?’
I shelved the curiosity and kept listening. Song time ended; back to chat. A familiar name dropped.
[Oh yeah, can I say it? Hmm, whatever! After Virtual Voice Fight, I emailed Luna-ri?]
[Yeah yeah, wanna try a collab! Luna-ri sings great~ And feels like we'd vibe? I'm wolfkin, she's catkin~]
Chat positive. Yui read happily, shrugged.
[But no reply yet~ Seems busy, no contact~]
Casual, no blame—just ‘that's how it is’ tone.
[Yeah, waiting~ Luna-ri if you're watching, hit me up~]
Yui blew a hand heart at the camera, grinning.
“……”
One of Na-ri's 300 emails, huh. Probably miscategorized in the sorting. Now humans would clip it—next stream, she'd spot it easy. Maybe Yui angled for that on purpose. Five-year streamer pro. She's sharp.
I got sucked in, bingeing her stream. Snapped out—way longer than planned. When was the last time I focused like this? Was my Luna-ri viewing just boredom before?
‘Gotta check others more.’
Closed the stream. Silence returned. Clock said Na-ri'd been at IG a while.
‘Hope it's going well.’
It involved me too, but here I was thinking Luna-ri streams might suck. Guilt stabbed. Maybe text casually? Opened Discord.
Instant regret. Mid-meeting? Interrupting? Not even a minute later—phone rang. Riiing—
“Hello.”
"Hello? Young-il, I'm in a meeting right now."
“Oh, yeah.”
"Not going as well as hoped. What do I do…?"
Her voice was off—not stream Luna-ri playfulness, not usual Na-ri energy. Deflated, somehow. Something went wrong.
Sion's stream, Yui's—flashed back. IG or not, the scene thrived. Why cling to an uncomfortable spot?
“Then... just bail?”
"Huh?"
“Gotta agonize that much?”
It slipped out too casually.
"Sigh."
"You're something, Young-il."
“What?”
"Nothing. Got it."
Call ended.
“……”
What? Did I mess up? Pondered briefly, gave up. Better for sanity. Back to work? Nah, reopened LINK. Yui was watchable.
. . .
Riiing— Na-ri again. Really done now? Casually accepted—her voice exploded, opposite of before.
"Young-il!!"
“Yeah. Done?”
"Young-il, wanna be main producer?!!"
“……Huh??”
What the—?
"Main producer!!"
“……?”
Drunk…?
"Ahh, sorry sorry! Too excited—I'll explain! Breathe!"
Whoosh— Exhale through the receiver. First time Na-ri this hyped since tournament acceptance.
"So, after meeting, someone grabbed me. IG chief producer—runs her own indie label."
“Label?”
"Yeah! Under IG HQ, but indie label."
“What's that…?”
"Oh, you don't know. Uh, basically IG funds everything, no meddling, shares profits? Like an indie company. Common in industry. Look it up later."
Scam alert? Who structures like that?
Na-ri caught breath, continued.
"Ahem, listen. If we join: full music release support. Studio rental with top gear for recording/mixing. Mastering by best in country!"
Whoa. Pro studio work. Tempting. Sell all my gear, couldn't afford one speaker there.
"But promo not full IG scale."
“Hm.”
"Your song rights stay yours, no exclusivity! Free to work however."
No exclusivity? Free?
"Oh, and most important."
Na-ri paused dramatically. She always did this for good news.
"If—if music charts high, profit split at co-CEO level!"
“Co-CEO level?”
"Yes! Not just deliver songs for fee—core label partner. Main producer! That's why I said it."
Everything sounding perfect. Dream terms. Suspicious.
Why trust me?
“……”
I'm a nobody. Slight name from tourney, no releases, no track record, face unseen mystery composer. This deal to me?
“Na-ri.”
"Yeah?"
“Not scammed?”
More realistic.
“All good, but... why? What's she want?”
"……Knew you'd think that. More to it."
Na-ri's tone sobered.
"I asked—what do you want in return."
“What'd she say?”
"Two things. One: voice call with you, chat music."
“……”
"No video, just voice. Wants music talk, questions."
Still doesn't add up. Calls awkward for me, but normal for most. Why bend over backward?
“And... the other?”
"If she vets you and approves, hand her label's junior composer to you."
Ah, approval needed? Junior composer? Me mentoring? I can't even meet people.
Brain overload.
“Hand over how?”
"Feedback, direction? She's busy, brought him but can't focus on label."
“……”
"Oh! Super important!"
More?
"Promised no meetings. Junior stuff—no face-to-face, I confirmed."
“For real?”
"Yup, perfect. Just files/docs feedback! Junior's no big deal—student."
“So ultimately, chief producer's approval makes it all go?”
"Yep. Quote: ‘Th-that person, as long as no plagiarism, skill's fineee.’"
Mid-impersonation? The chief producer.
Recapped: Full release support. Top recording/mixing/mastering. Promo meh. Chart success = co-CEO profits. Freedom. But: music vet call. Approve? Mentor junior remote.
“Na-ri.”
"Yeah?"
“She seem decent?”
"Hm…… Yeah. Weird to say, but... like you? Doesn't love people. But socialized forcefully outside?"
Calling me antisocial? Fair, so I listened quietly.
"Anyway, no scam vibes. Bit clumsy, but says her piece—unique. Chat and see."
“Got it. Need think time.”
Info overload—sort later. Unknown call loomed. Fancy gear tempted. Mostly, wanted my songs out in pro quality. Hard to top this deal. Maybe that's why hesitation. Only way clear uncertainty: call the chief producer.
Call—hate it, but... toes and fingers tensed. Na-ri worked hard, whatever happened. Digging in now makes me shitty friend.
Steeled—I can do it! Boldly! Call time.
My resolve—pierced by Na-ri.
"Oh, but Young-il."
“Yeah?”
"What'd you do today?"
“……”
"Huh?"
“……Composing.”
Couldn't admit truth—tossed boldness to the dogs for a sec.