The Starry Night on the Mountain
Over there! It's Seo Siyeon!
“So… you’re saying all those clips of us just hanging out were for the music video storyboard?”
“Yep! The song’s theme kind of demanded it.”
Now that I thought about it, whenever we went out somewhere, one of the five of us was always carrying a small camera and filming the rest. I’d assumed it was just for personal memories, but it had all been music video footage?
“Wait a second. Then why did the actual filming crew…”
“We still have to shoot the rest with them. They’re the ones who’ll be filming the five of us properly.”
I looked up at Yoo Seolha.
Something enormous was blocking the way, so I couldn’t see her face—only her upper body. Still, I could easily imagine what kind of expression she was making.
She’s definitely wearing a look that says ‘Mission accomplished.’
Lately the Blooming members—especially Yoo Seolha—seemed to have developed a real taste for teasing me. They were probably all feeling pretty satisfied watching me fall for their little “moon reflected in water” trick.
“…Well, as long as that’s taken care of.”
“Aww! Anyway, good work! Looks like Siyeon will get to appear in the music video too?”
“Is that… really okay?”
“It’s fine even if you do. Our fans all like you anyway.”
In truth, there was a fair amount of overlap between my fandom and Blooming’s. Setting aside how close we were, our positions overlapped quite a bit.
Both of us carried the label of “young and musically talented,” so it was inevitable that our fanbases would form in the same demographic layers. Of course, when it came to mainstream appeal, I completely overshadowed them.
“The song is called ‘To My Youth,’ so the director said just filming us having fun together would be enough! And having you in some of the shots didn’t feel out of place at all.”
“Well, I guess there’s no big problem. We can just treat it as a special cameo.”
“Then should we show up in your music video too?”
“Ah, that’s a bit…”
My music video concept really wasn’t like that. Yoo Seolha puffed her cheeks in disappointment, but no meant no.
Thankfully, the remaining two days in Tokyo passed without any major schedule. We simply rested at the accommodation. Anyone who felt like going out could do so freely, and when mealtime came we’d all head to some nearby restaurant together. It was a leisurely couple of days.
I actually preferred this kind of trip over running around busily. I’ve always been an introvert by nature, so I lean toward comfortable travel rather than packed itineraries. That doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy the early parts of our Europe and Japan trips, but this pace suited me best.
“Oh right. Isn’t the new episode of Maybe It’s Good airing today? Haaah… I wanted to watch it!”
“There wasn’t much to it anyway.”
Last week they’d already aired the scene of me composing on the train. Next would probably be the busking we did in Italy.
“Speaking of which, the internet’s been going crazy over that lately.”
“Over what?”
“That… composing scene.”
“Ah.”
Well, I could understand why.
To other people, it probably looked like I’d whipped up a song out of thin air. While it was true I’d drawn inspiration there, the melody’s shape and genre had already been floating around in my head. The novel’s content and the sight of stars over the wheat field had simply helped me crystallize it. I hadn’t created everything on the spot.
I wasn’t that much of a genius.
In the first place, I didn’t consider myself a genius composer. If I had been, I would’ve topped the Billboard charts and won a Grammy in my previous life.
Rather, I thought the vocal talent possessed by Seo Siyeon deserved even higher praise.
Can’t wait to see what happens in a few years.
Come to think of it, I’d completely forgotten—had Kim Seol’s live performance issue been resolved?
I asked Yoo Seolha, and she looked at me with an exhausted expression.
“You have no idea how much we suffered just to fix that one part of hers…!”
“So it got solved after all. That’s good.”
This song had a drum solo in the middle, after all.
Kim Seol had always had talent for the drums. She just hadn’t practiced seriously. But now that she’d entered the professional world, she would’ve had no choice but to raise her skills if she didn’t want to ruin the stage she shared with her precious friends.
When I wrote the song, I’d taken that into consideration. Personally, I found Blooming’s narrative of growth to be one of its biggest charms, so I was hoping that covering Kim Seol’s weakness this time would create yet another growth story.
“Want to listen?”
“No. I’m sure you handled it well.”
Back during Singer Star it might’ve been different, but now there was no need to babysit Blooming and check every little thing. They were professionals now.
“…Siyeon, you’ve been neglecting us lately!”
“What are you even saying?”
Although I’d found inspiration while looking at the wheat fields in France, the actual main setting of the novel Star was a cabin on a hill and the beautiful starry sky seen from there at night. That was why we had to deliberately find a place where the stars would shine brightly.
According to the filming director, we absolutely had to shoot at a high elevation.
“Hek… haaek…!”
“Unnie, why are you trying to die?”
We were climbing a mountain in the countryside on the outskirts of Tokyo in the middle of the night.
Maybe all that consistent gym-going after Singer Star had paid off? (Actually, I’d barely gone.) Either way, even though it was a bit tough, I managed to reach the summit.
“I-I feel like I’m going to die…”
“M-me too…”
“I told you not to wear heels.”
“I didn’t think it would be this high… I figured it’d be like a neighborhood hill.”
To be honest, I’d thought the same thing. If the hill where the shepherd lived in the original novel had been this steep, the young lady probably would’ve given up halfway and gone back home.
Anyway, the filming crew who had struggled all the way up the mountain with their camera equipment were now busily preparing to shoot.
In the middle of that bustling atmosphere, I sat in a corner and plucked the strings of an acoustic guitar. As I did, I looked up at the sky. There seemed to be fewer stars than I’d expected.
It was supposed to look like stars were pouring down… There were quite a few in the sky now, but not enough to match that image.
“Ah, we can just cover that with CG. What matters is the emotion.”
“……”
After hearing the camera director’s answer to my unspoken question, I secretly wanted to ask why we’d bothered climbing the mountain the hard way if that was the case. But it didn’t seem like I’d get a proper answer even if I did, so I decided to keep my mouth shut.
“The sky is so pretty…”
Beside me, Choi Yeonah was murmuring in admiration as she gazed upward. Next to her, Kim Seol was busily scribbling something down. When I sneaked a glance, I saw it was a novel.
“Ah. Just a hobby. I was bored.”
“…Are you still hoping to become a novelist?”
“No? Even if I did, I’d only get compared to Dad… I’m happier just playing the drums.”
Well, it would be difficult for Kim Seol to win a Nobel Prize in literature like her father. Even she seemed to have her own struggles, having a living legend as a parent.
From an orphan’s perspective like mine, anything Kim Seol said would sound like humblebragging. But when she said things like that, it put Park Heesu—who had chosen the same musical path as her mother—in an awkward position. For her, it basically meant that to avoid comparison with her Grammy-winning mother, she’d have to win a Grammy herself.
Well, popular music and classical are completely different fields, so they probably won’t be compared on the same level.
Whenever Blooming got criticized, she’d probably get dragged into it too. Though that would happen to every member equally.
Who told you to be born with a golden spoon anyway?
I was an orphan, so at least I didn’t have anyone to be compared to.
In the end, filming the music video wasn’t anything special. Since they weren’t asking a child like me to do any intense acting, I just had to follow directions and strike appropriately emotional poses. Of course, repeating the same pose over and over was a bit tiring.
We finished shooting on the mountain summit that evening, and the next day we went to a field of silver grass and filmed various scenes under the director’s guidance. It seemed they planned to intercut the two locations to create the music video.
Even though I’d been a general producer in my previous life, music videos weren’t exactly my specialty. So all I could do was trust that they’d put something decent together and wait.
Our one-week trip to Japan came to an end like that.
And two weeks later.
I stood awkwardly in the waiting room of a music show—one I’d never visited in this life.
“…I already want to go home.”
I could hear people around me whispering as they stared, and several seemed to be debating whether they should come talk to me. Among them were a few idols whose names I actually knew, which made things even more awkward.
“…Ugh, when is this going to end?”
“Blooming, get ready!”
At that moment, a staff member called out the group’s name. Filled with anticipation at finally being freed from this place, I headed toward the side with a view of the stage.