Chapter 44 : The Best Reward

Chapter 44: The Best Reward

I was confident about the song.

If I wasn’t confident, I wouldn’t have let anyone hear it in the first place.

I arranged it as much in my own style as possible.

Rather than focusing on who would sing it, I concentrated more on how it would be expressed.

It’s nice to tailor a song perfectly to suit the singer, but sometimes, I think it’s also good for the singer to try matching themselves to the song.

Age, gender, taste, temperament, vocal tone…

I didn’t think about any of that—just free and uninhibited.

I also matched the arrangement to current trends.

If I made it entirely with acoustic sounds just because it’s a band, it could feel monotonous.

I was planning to combine my specialty—electronic sounds—with real instruments. That’s why I came here.

“Hm?”

That look… not bad at all?

Teacher Jang and hyung were staring at me intently.

I smiled and said,

“Aren’t you guys expecting too much?”

“Do I look like I wouldn’t?”

“Of course.”

Hyung had already heard Super Ride and Lunatic Beat, so it was understandable.

But Teacher Jang’s anticipation was a little different.

“So our Taeyoon really writes songs now. Good thinking!”

Since he didn’t know the backstory, it was natural for him to think that way.

I wanted to surprise him with a big “Ta-da!”

The student who once took free lessons has grown this much and returned! Aren’t you proud?

I thought this was the best reward I could give him.

And maybe…

It might have been me who was the one anticipating more.

‘What will he say to me?’

Teacher Jang was the best praise machine in Bundang.

Whenever I did anything, he would shower me with compliments like a waterfall.

I think I worked harder because I wanted to be praised more, and because it felt so good when he bragged about me to his friends and colleagues.

— Good. You’re picking it up right away.

— Can you hear this? Then try playing this too. Wow, Taeyoon, you’ve got perfect pitch.

— The real deal is a 5-string bass. Oh? As expected, you play well.

— Yes! You’re fun to teach.

Even when I had to quit the academy because I moved, hyung and I never lost touch with Teacher Jang.

— Taeyoon, don’t give up on music even after you move. Come anytime if you’re struggling.

— It doesn’t have to be your job.

— Music has no age limit. Even much later in life—if you ever want to do it, come anytime.

That’s why I brought a band song here.

Teacher Jang would be on keyboard, hyung on guitar, and I would be on bass…

It was a shame to replace the drums with virtual instruments, but I was excited at the thought of recording a perfect demo with real instruments.

Maybe, with a bit of luck, I could even get that Mr. Kim I saw earlier to help with the drums.

What kind of reaction would Teacher Jang and hyung have?

They’d probably be shocked, right?

With a heart full of excitement and confidence, I played the song, expecting the compliments to pour down like a storm—yes, I was sure they would…

“Hm…”

“How should I put this…”

Why did they look so serious while listening to the song?

Fresh.

That was Dongyun’s first impression.

The BPM was about 175.

If he had to pick a genre—pop rock?

It had a rhythm that made his shoulders move on their own. There was a bright energy to it.

All the instruments came surging in like a wave.

Even with the dynamic tempo, the familiar chords made the melody comfortable.

‘Refreshing.’

So Taeyoon had this kind of vibe in him too.

It was a bright, radiant song that didn’t match his usual demeanor.

The instruments charged forward and poured into his ears.

It was fascinating.

Even without lyrics, the melody alone told him what story it wanted to convey.

It was honestly capturing an emotion anyone in their early twenties would have experienced.

That’s right.

It was a story about youth.

‘I wonder how Teacher Jang will feel about it.’

Dongyun glanced at Jang Siwon.

Jang Siwon was thinking much the same thing.

The simple yet exhilarating atmosphere carried through from beginning to end.

He didn’t let go of familiarity, keeping a traditional-style chorus.

On top of that, the refined atmosphere made it feel just like listening to the theme song of a famous anime.

‘Taeyoon made this…?’

In the end, the core of pop music is the topline.

The public doesn’t care how the instruments are arranged, or at which point a solo part comes in.

They focus on how easy it is to sing along, how addictive it is, and how comfortable it is to listen to.

While maintaining a moderate degree of rock’s authenticity, the lively melody gave it mass appeal.

And yet…

‘Why?’

He couldn’t open his mouth so easily.

The song was good—no need to even say it.

It could be put straight onto the Maron Chart and not feel out of place.

“Hm…”

“How should I put this.”

Seo Dongyun and Jang Siwon spoke at the same time.

They turned their heads to look at each other.

It was as if they were saying, ‘Hey, you too?’

They must have had similar impressions.

The song had long ended, but the two of them were still choosing their words.

It was good, definitely good—

—but there was undeniably an odd, unplaceable element.

How should they explain it?

Dongyun muttered almost to himself,

“It’s good, it’s really good… but how do I explain it?”

He took a sip of bottled water before continuing.

“It’s like… the road is perfectly paved, really smooth. The car runs great. At first glance, it feels like you can just speed along without any problem. But if you look closely, there are these tiny little bumps. Not enough to bother you, but they keep catching your attention. Like there’s something that shouldn’t be there that slipped in somehow. Ah, seriously, how do I say this…”

Dongyun glanced at his younger brother.

Good.

Taeyoon was listening earnestly.

He wasn’t the type to get upset over something like this.

Well, he was a proper professional composer now.

He had to be able to accept honest feedback.

“What about you, teacher?”

Judging by his expression, they were on the same wavelength.

Naturally, the turn passed to Jang Siwon.

Taken off guard, Jang Siwon asked Taeyoon,

“Taeyoon. Can I be completely honest?”

“Yes.”

“The topline was really good. But… the instruments—individually, they’re charming, but when you put them together… it’s like they’re grouped in clusters, like little islands, but not completely connected.”

Jang Siwon shared his own impression.

It was a somewhat vague review, but the conclusion was this:

It’s not harmonious.

Taeyoon couldn’t quite understand what he meant.

Maybe not perfect, but still…

He had carefully crafted every part.

What was wrong with it? It was good, wasn’t it?

There weren’t any jagged edges or awkward parts.

Still, he didn’t want to show it.

Accepting feedback humbly was supposed to be part of a professional’s virtue.

Besides, his hyung was an A&R staff member at a top agency, and Jang Siwon was someone who had listened to plenty of music in his time.

He couldn’t just take it lightly.

He shouldn’t take it lightly.

‘What is this feeling…’

It felt like he had swallowed a burning lump of fire.

Something was boiling inside his chest, but he couldn’t spit it out.

Taeyoon calmed himself and said,

“I guess I’ll have to rethink the arrangement direction.”

It was a composed answer.

Phew.

Seo Dongyun and Kang Siwon let out a sigh of relief.

Of course, they wanted to say only nice things.

But what’s wrong is wrong.

I mean, if the song had been predictable, if it had reeked of amateurism from the first listen, they wouldn’t have even said this much.

They would have just clapped politely and said good, good, figuring his skills would improve eventually.

Not that he failed to understand the instruments’ characteristics—far from it.

Even though the drums were just samples, they were well done.

The two exchanged a glance, then looked at Taeyoon together.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You okay? Not feeling hurt?”

Taeyoon replied cheerfully,

“I was just thinking about how to rearrange it. And hurt? Not at all. You made time to listen and gave me thoughtful feedback—I should be grateful.”

Well, they had been worried for nothing.

Jang Siwon gave a word of advice.

“Don’t get too caught up in what we said.”

“Of course.”

“This is just one opinion. The decision is yours. And Taeyoon—”

“Yes.”

“Don’t touch the topline. Keep it exactly as it is.”

Seo Dongyun quickly cut in.

The topline—he had a lot to say about that.

“Hey, hey. The melody’s just insane. You did the guide yourself, right? You’re not bad.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m really curious who’s going to sing this. These days, there are lots of band idols coming out. This will definitely work.”

“Giving me the disease and the cure?”

“…It was a disease? Are you mad?”

“It’s just an expression.”

“Seo Taeyoon’s mad, right? You thought we’d only praise you, but now you want to cry because we gave you criticism?”

“Ah, seriously.”

Watching the bickering brothers, Jang Siwon had a sudden thought.

They really hadn’t changed at all.

Taeyoon, seven years younger, would never back down from an argument with his older brother, and Dongyun, seven years older, would never yield to his little brother even though he could.

Especially that Seo Dongyun—how could he still not understand his own brother?

Having just listened in silence, Jang Siwon now stepped in.

“Hey, hey, Dongyun. You think Taeyoon’s the type to sulk just because he got some blunt feedback? He’d sooner stay up all night, tear it apart, and bring it back the next day just to prove a point.”

…Come to think of it, that’s true.

Dongyun nodded.

“That’s true.”

“It’s been a while since you came—stay for dinner. Taeyoon, you like tonkatsu, right? There’s a new place in front that’s pretty good.”

Taeyoon answered calmly,

“…I’ll have udon too.”

Seo Dongyun and Jang Siwon just shrugged at each other.

The two people I trusted gave me feedback I never expected.

It… stung a bit.

I had been confident.

To my ears, it sounded nothing but good.

I came back without even getting to properly talk about the song, let alone do the session recording.

I had so much I wanted to say, and I’d wanted to hear hyung play guitar again after so long.

‘What’s going on here?’

I listened again. And again.

Even at work, it was all I could think about.

What exactly was supposed to feel awkward?

They weren’t the kind of people to talk nonsense.

Especially hyung—he always put the most emphasis on harmony when selecting songs. He said it was the number-one priority at Tomorrow Entertainment.

That kind of listening style must be second nature to him.

Logically, I understood a hundred times over that I should accept it.

But my heart just couldn’t.

‘Was the opening synth awkward?’

With band songs, it’s common to start the intro with a guitar riff.

But my song was different.

I broke that rule without hesitation.

Instead of distortion guitar, I made synth the main instrument. It sounded fresher that way.

‘It’s not the drums…’

Even after I got home from work—

I listened for three straight hours, but I couldn’t find anything awkward at all.

It was driving me crazy.

I felt frustrated, even a little bitter.

‘If even hyung couldn’t pinpoint it, maybe it’s an engineering issue?’

‘Maybe the speakers are messed up?’

‘Or maybe it just wasn’t their taste?’

Before long, I started looking for other causes.

I’d listened to the same song for so long, I thought I might go insane.

I thought if I listened enough, I’d find it—but no, not a chance.

Before I knew it, the sky outside was bright.

I could hear hyung getting ready for work.

‘Alright. I’ve decided.’

Asking for help isn’t something to be ashamed of.

It wouldn’t be long before the shop opened.

I stared wide-eyed at the clock, waiting for time to pass faster.

11 a.m.

I arrived backstage, panting.

I was here to see Moon Jungbae.

“Teacher! Are you here? It’s me.”

“What’s the rush this early in the morning?”

“It’s nothing else. Yesterday… actually, never mind.”

I stopped myself from explaining everything in detail.

Didn’t want to plant any bias.

If the teacher said it was fine, I really planned to go ahead with it as is.

After all, the one who would sing it was Bear Moon.

“Please listen to my song.”

“It’s finished? Play it.”

“Just tell me yes or no. Simple.”

“We’ll see.”

I didn’t add anything else and played the song.

But why…

“Pfft.”

He kept chuckling while listening, as if he found it amusing.

Three tense minutes passed.

He didn’t say a word, and I started to feel uneasy.

I was thinking about how to ask when—

“Taeyoon.”

Moon Jungbae spoke with a faint smile still on his face.

“You play bass, don’t you?”