The Most Important Thing in This Business: Choice (7)

What was going on?

I told him I was on my way and headed down to the basement. While the heater ran and I waited for Lee Songha, I sank into my thoughts.

Ever since I'd handed the song off to Kim Hyunjo, I'd been feeling optimistic about it. It was a track that had been chosen as the title in the original future, after all. Simon Lee's song was in the mix now, so it couldn't stand alone as the sole title—but a self-composed track carried its own merit, and I was sure we could push it hard enough as a Double Title Track.

Nothing else had gone wrong, had it?

I was worrying ahead of myself, afraid some variable that had never been on the schedule would come leaping out. I used to think that if you knew the future, everything would be as easy as pie—that all you had to do was drive straight down a road where success was already guaranteed. Reality, though, meant agonizing over whether a single variable might throw the whole thing off course.

I'd been lost in it for a while when the passenger door opened.

"I'm here."

Songha climbed in, breathing hard, as if she'd run the whole way.

"You could've taken your time. What'd you run for?"

"I thought you might be waiting."

"Over a few minutes? Did you ask Team Leader Park everything you needed to?"

I asked as I pulled the car out, and Songha hesitated.

Then she glanced at me and asked, quietly,

"Oppa, you're not really interested in men, right?"

What was she even saying?

I was so dumbfounded that the whole self-composed-song problem blew clean out of my head.

"What kind of interest are ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠we talking about? I'm not interested in that, if that's what you mean."

"I just wondered if maybe you'd wanted to work with a male celebrity..."

Songha murmured it, almost to herself.

Wait. Was this a continuation of the conversation from earlier?

I tilted my head, and in that instant a light snapped on.

"Is this because someone said they wanted to work with me? Don't tell me you asked Team Leader Park about that."

Songha quietly turned her face toward the window.

So she had asked.

It was absurd, and at the same time a warmth climbed into my chest. It wasn't the heavy drag of possessiveness, exactly, but I could tell she was worried I might leave for some other celebrity. It made me proud, and it tickled. So this was what it meant to be an entertainer and a manager.

Something like being partners, maybe.

My chest wasn't just warm. It was hot. Better than the heater.

"I told you, I'm not thinking about switching who I manage. I like working with the Neptune kids, and I said it earlier—thanks to you, I'm actually enjoying the job. For crying out loud. Want me to write you a pledge while I'm at it?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Never mind."

Songha course-corrected at once.

I couldn't help it. I laughed. Then I asked, like it was a joke.

"So the person who said they wanted to work with me—a man? Who?"

"I don't really know either."

"Really?"

Her mouth clamped shut again.

The whole way to the dorm I had to fight to keep from laughing. Only after I dropped Songha off did the chuckles spill out of me. But that good mood hit the floor the moment I got back to the company to meet Kim Hyunjo.

In one corner of the office, Kim Hyunjo was sitting side by side with the traitor.

"I'm here, Chief."

I greeted Kim Hyunjo and gave the traitor a light wave as well. Maybe it was because he was stuck next to Kim Hyunjo's sallow face, but today of all days the bastard looked even better.

"It's about Taehee's self-composed song."

Kim Hyunjo went straight to the point.

I drew a breath and braced, ready to knock back whatever variable came flying at me. Whatever this was, Lee Taehee's song had to be protected.

"It's better than I expected, so I told Young-hoon hyung we could push it as a double title."

Oh. Had I been worrying for nothing?

The reaction was so positive it made all that tension feel ridiculous.

I nodded hard and pressed on.

"I thought it was too good to bury as a filler track, too. A double title should have a real shot. And more than anything, putting a self-composed song up as a title would be good for Taehee, and for the team's image overall."

"Right. Only it's gotten a little complicated."

I knew it was going too well.

"Geonyoung talked to Simon Lee about the next album, and apparently he said something pretty tempting."

Tempting?

"Sounds like he's thinking of backing them up when they do variety after the comeback."

Backing them up? Simon Lee?

While I stalled, the traitor smiled and added his piece.

"Songha's getting a good response because of the drama. Neptune's name is getting mentioned right along with her, so their recognition's climbing. Simon Lee must've figured that if it goes well, it's a win-win."

"He's got a talk show where he sits as a panelist, so the idea is to start there and make the rounds of a few joint appearances. Honestly, that's good for us."

Kim Hyunjo rubbed his chin and kept going.

"If that guy pushes the kids while he digs through some Next K-Star episodes, they'll make it, and the skilled girl-group image will set harder. Having someone look after you on variety helps a lot when you're actually filming, too."

Even with my head in a tangle, I nodded.

If Simon Lee was willing to step up that actively, it was a proposal we had no choice but to find tempting.

But then why had Taehee's self-composed song turned into a problem?

As if he'd read the question off my face, Kim Hyunjo went on.

"If that happens, even if we go out with a double title, Simon Lee's song is going to get way more exposure. Once the response comes in, we'll have no choice but to put more weight on that side. And then Taehee's song could just fizzle out and get buried."

"If the song itself is good, isn't there still a real chance it blows up on the charts?"

It was a song that would come to be called a hit. And more than that, there was the future I'd seen not long ago—the one that had come through full of static.

In that future, the traitor had pushed Lee Taehee's self-composed song. They'd called it a masterstroke. Judging by the PR staffer's face, clothes, and surroundings, the timing was early spring, close at hand. No matter how I turned it over, the album that employee had meant was very likely this next mini-album we were preparing now.

So it was clear enough that Lee Taehee's song drew a tremendous response.

Kim Hyunjo, though, was skeptical.

"If every ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠good song took off, wouldn't that be nice. Sometimes a track grinds its way to number one on the strength of the song alone, but far more of them just get buried."

My head was spinning. Kim Hyunjo's voice kept going.

"This time I'm thinking we push Simon Lee's song as the sole lead, and either run Taehee's as a follow-up or just hold it and put it on the next album."

A follow-up would shove the promotion window back. Putting it on the next album entirely could delay it by a few months at the shortest, maybe longer. The variables were getting too big.

Even then, could Taehee's song still take off the way it had in the original future?

Songs leaned hard on trends and timing. There was a real chance of overlapping some other major artist's promotion period. And more than anything, it was far from certain the next album would even succeed on Simon Lee's song alone.

"Anyway. Sunwoo, you're saying a double title still has a shot?"

I nodded at once.

"Yes."

"With that instinct of yours, part of me wants to trust it. Geonyoung, what about you?"

I glanced over. The traitor rubbed his lips and answered, measured.

"I think we should push what's certain. If the promotion gets split, both could end up half-baked. And Simon Lee, who brought it up so eagerly, wouldn't like that either."

The premise was wrong from the start. The certain thing wasn't Simon Lee's song.

The traitor looked my way. Our eyes met in the empty air between us.

Kim Hyunjo raked a hand through his hair like his head hurt.

"All right. Well, Simon Lee's song isn't even locked as the title yet, and there might be people who'll back Taehee's track. Let's pool some opinions on what strategy's best."

I'd gotten off early for once, and instead of resting, my skull felt ready to burst.

I'd skipped dinner and was trying to map out what came next when my phone buzzed. Kim Hyunjo. Expecting yet another problem, I checked at once—but it wasn't about the album. Out of nowhere, he was telling me to call Lim Seoyoung right now.

What?

I tilted my head and dialed. The ringing cut off almost immediately, and a noisy murmur spilled through the speaker.

I told her to text me the address and got up at once.

It took exactly thirty minutes to drive to the place Seoyoung had sent. Finding the coffee shop was easy. Dozens of people were packed tight around it.

What kind of circus was this?

Next K-Star had lifted the kids' profile, sure, but they'd only just sprouted out of hard, cracked earth. They weren't at a level that should pull a crowd like that.

Don't tell me it's Songha.

No. Even if the drama had been a smash, not to this extent.

I quit puzzling and parked near the café, then pushed into the crowd. The little coffee shop was packed solid, like a store in the middle of some insane blowout sale. There was no room left inside, so people were plastered to the outside windows, staring in.

"Whoa. Stack a bunch of gorgeous girls together and the impact is no joke."

"Should we grab autographs before we go? They say it's Neptune. Neptune. The girl group Songha's in."

"Oh, she was in a girl group?"

Neptune and Lee Songha kept bobbing up through the noise, so the kids were definitely in there. They were walled in so thick I couldn't even see the tops of their heads.

I rolled up my sleeves and wedged into the press of bodies.

"Sorry, I need to get through."

"Hey, don't cut!"

"I'm Neptune's manager!"

The one giving me the stink-eye stepped aside. I had to throw out I'm the manager another dozen times or so before I finally reached the table where the kids were sitting. Good God. I'm not a small guy, and I still thought I was going to get crushed.

Songha was busy drawing something that might have been a signature or a doodle, and the others wore flustered faces in front of people snapping photos on their phones.

Seoyoung, who'd been doing nothing but rolling those round eyes this way and that, spotted me and shot to her feet.

"Oppa!"

Songha, mid-signature, jerked her head up too. Relief flickered across Lee Taehee's face, and across LJ's. How it had come to this, I could ask later. Before it got any bigger, I needed to wrap it up and get them out.

I decided we'd only do autographs and proof photos for the people already waiting inside. I asked for their understanding—we had a schedule and had to go—and for the people waiting outside, I bought a round of coffee on the company card. I apologized to the café manager, too, who'd just been struck by a bolt from the blue.

I have no idea what state of mind I powered through all of that in.

I cleared the situation fast and got the kids on their feet.

The crowd was so dense that getting out was a job of its own. Clearing a path, keeping hold of the kids. It felt like evacuating through a war zone with a string of children in tow.

It was the first time something like this had happened, and I was drained in a flash. When we'd done the guerrilla concert in Hongdae, Kim Hyunjo and the traitor had been there, along with the staff and the security.

The kids grabbed my arms and shoulders and trailed after me like ducklings.

I barely managed to stuff them into the van and drove straight out of there. Only then did the tension break, and they sagged like balloons with the air let out. I pulled over again a little way from the coffee shop and asked,

"How did this even happen?"

Taehee, the first to pull herself together, answered.

"We came out for the first time in a while, partly to celebrate Songha's drama doing well, and we ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠didn't think it would turn out like this. I'm sorry."

"This—this is seriously, what even is this. I still can't think straight!"

Whether from the excitement or the scare, Seoyoung said ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it with her face flushed and damp.

LJ swept her mussed hair back and took her to task.

"This snowballed because of you, didn't it. At first there were only a few people, but you went and set up shop and said you'd sign for everybody, so they all thought it was some autograph event and piled in."

"Aaaah, I didn't know it would get this many people! I was curious if anyone would recognize me, so I walked around by myself a few times, and back then it was just a couple of signatures and done!"

I could roughly sketch the picture.

Four conspicuously pretty girls moving around together were bound to draw eyes, and some of those eyes would have recognized Neptune—especially Songha. And on top of that, Seoyoung had laid the whole spread out.

People who'd drifted over with a light might as well take a look had escalated all the way to well, since we're here, might as well get a signature and a photo. It was practically a small-scale fan signing.

Good thing nothing had gone wrong. If there'd been an accident, then what.

I wasn't going to be able to let them out so easily from now on.

I was rubbing at my stiff neck, turning it over, when Seoyoung suddenly yelled.

"Oppa, Songha! Songha's not here! Where'd she go? I think we left her behind!"

For a second even my heart dropped.

We didn't actually leave her, did we— I turned my head and immediately swept a hand down my chest. Songha was sitting right there, planted in the seat beside me.

"I'm right here."

"You scared me! Why are you up in the front seat?!"

Seoyoung squawked for a good long while.

Then she seemed to settle for a moment, only to stick her head forward and start chattering all over again. Taehee and LJ were sprawled out, catching their breath, while Seoyoung's eyes alone were glittering.

"I was out of my mind, but it was kind of nice... Still, so many people recognized Songha, Oppa. A lot of them knew her name exactly, too. I think she signed way more than the three of us combined."

"Well. She has the drama."

"Dramas really are something. We need the next album to do well so we can work, too. At this rate I'm scared we'll turn into the unnies who bleed the maknae dry."

She said it playfully, but her eyes were serious.

True enough—when I'd looked earlier, most of the people had been clustered toward Songha. They'd been watching that from right up close, so of course their thoughts might be complicated. They'd seen plenty of groups where only one or two members were famous and the rest came attached like freebies. Plenty of those had gone all the way to disbanding.

Like Seoyoung said, the next album really had to do well.

My thoughts were just sliding back toward the album when—

"Oh. An article about us just went up."

LJ, who'd been fiddling with her phone, blurted it out.

Seoyoung latched on at once.

"What? The signing at the coffee shop? That already turned into an article?!"

"No. Not that."

"It says we're working with Simon Lee on our next album."

What?