Chapter 6 : Even Crap Philosophy Is Still Philosophy

Chapter 6: Even Crap Philosophy Is Still Philosophy

ToMe Entertainment CEO's Office.

“Super Ride” had been playing on loop for 30 minutes.

Tap tap tap tadak—

A&R Team Leader Park’s fingers lightly tapped the table in rhythm.

– Dubirubadim.

He was so immersed that even the rough scat sounded smooth.

“Did he design this knowingly?”

“Hard to say.”

There was one trait common to songs by star composers.

The seduction of the first two bars.

Taeyoon’s song was exactly like that.

From the clear ‘ding ding diding,’ it was game over.

A monster of an intro. He knew how to captivate people.

It wasn’t like he used a lot of instruments either.

Just marimba and synth keyboard. Only those two, and he pulled off a killer intro.

And the mood?

It oddly carried that distinctive 90s R&B vibe.

On top of that, he tailored in a modern two-step rhythm so perfectly it disguised itself as trendy.

“That’s strange.”

“What is?”

“It’s pleasant to listen to.”

“…You’re saying that kind of thing now, Team Leader Park?”

They had listened to over 500 demo tracks before the meeting.

Their ears were already crying for mercy.

But this was different.

It was soothing. As if it had been crafted with precision.

“Where was the mastering done?”

“How would I know? Probably not done at all? I think Yujin just tossed it to me to listen.”

“Then that’s seriously insane.”

“Huh?”

“Ha, I don’t know. Whether it’s instinctively nailed or polished somewhere before being tested on us.”

“He’s not the cunning type. Looks a bit cold but… has a naïve side. Just look at how he came in wearing a full suit. Clearly a newbie. Plus…”

CEO Kwak Youngho paused to gather his thoughts.

No matter how much he pondered, he couldn’t figure it out.

Who raised this kid, what he used to do, how he knew Han Yujin.

He didn’t know a single thing.

Still, there was one thing he was sure of.

“The fact that he said the concept was ‘fatal’… that was spot-on.”

Newbie or not.

He composed with a clear standard.

That’s why the CEO and team leader really liked Taeyoon.

Even crap philosophy is still philosophy.

A creator must have their own firm philosophy.

That’s how you last long and strong.

Taeyoon had that.

“He said it’s not sexy, it’s fatal… it really made me admire him.”

“Good with words. Plenty of people get swallowed up by the concept when they mess around with terms like sexy and whatnot.”

“He’s interesting.”

“Whether he’s just a smooth-talking peddler with some flashy crap philosophy or a genius who gets it instinctively… We’ll know when we see him next.”

Sexy and Fatal.

They may seem similar, but they convey entirely different messages.

Sexy mainly emphasizes physical appeal and looks, whereas fatal highlights the overall aura and depth of character.

“Fatal, huh… Thanks to this composer, we might’ve just invented a whole new genre.”

CEO Kwak smiled in satisfaction.

“If only the lyrics match well, it’d be perfect.”

“Should we have him write the lyrics too? I’m curious what he wanted to express.”

“I’m a bit worried about the lyrics. When is Oh Jisoo coming in?”

“Huh? Oh Jisoo? No way, she never writes lyrics for rookies.”

“No, I just want her to teach him the basics. She loves playing teacher with her juniors. She owes me one too. Might as well collect that favor now—it’d be good for her as well.”

It was good, but frustrating.

This was driving me crazy. I couldn’t even remember what I had said.

It was that damned suit’s fault.

I should’ve asked Hyung.

Instead, I overthought it by myself and only showed off my awkwardness.

Puff-puff-puh—

“Ugh!”

I kept replaying the CEO and team leader holding back their laughter.

I kicked at the helpless blanket while rolling around, and finally came to my senses.

‘This isn’t the time to be embarrassed about my outfit, is it?’

I quickly raised my head and sat up.

Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned the word “fatal.”

The vibe had been unusual.

Maybe—just maybe—they’d think a clueless rookie was just blurting nonsense.

Still, I didn’t regret it. I had to say what I needed to say.

Come on, sexy and fatal are fundamentally different, you know?

Maybe the expression was clunky.

Man, talking well is really hard.

Even if I wasn’t perfect, I hoped they got what I meant, and then I hurried off to Hyung’s room.

Only the monitor was lit up in the dark room.

“Hyung, what are you doing?”

“Work.”

“Work again? Is that all you do?”

“Better than being cattle. This is slavery, straight up. Don’t become an office worker.”

“Why? Didn’t you used to say getting a steady paycheck was the best?”

“I said don’t do it! Just listen to me.”

Hyung grabbed at his hair.

He didn’t have much to begin with—he’d go bald at this rate.

I stood there blankly staring down at his crown when he spun the chair around and made eye contact with me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Taeyoon, you said you’re doing music, right?”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“Don’t come to our company.”

“Why? Is there a problem?”

“If I say don’t come, then don’t.”

Why were there so many things I wasn’t supposed to do?

“I actually came in to ask something, but you’re busy. Go to bed early.”

Hyung must be stressed in his own way.

It was already past midnight and he was still glued to emails—no wonder he didn’t even want to answer questions.

I was about to turn away, thinking even a short talk might annoy him.

“What is it? Go ahead and ask.”

“It’s fine. You must be tired from work too.”

“It’s short enough to talk about.”

Really? In that case...

“Uh, you said you were in the A&R team, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So you guys pick the songs and match them with artists and stuff?”

“That’s right. We handle songs overall. A&R, you see, is the alpha and omega of the entertainment industry.”

Hyung was the perfect example of someone who turned his passion into a profession.

Back in school, when Hyung and I came home from school, there was always a 10,000-won bill on the dining table.

That was our dinner money.

We often skipped meals or made do with instant noodles.

So what did we do with the rest of the money?

While others went to PC rooms, we bought CDs.

Even in the age of music streaming, Hyung and I insisted on buying CDs and listening to them on the old stereo in the living room.

Sticking tiny earphones in our ears wasn’t our thing.

Sitting in the living room listening to songs on those big speakers, it felt like the singer was right there next to us.

When the music ended, we would dive into intense critiques.

This was like this, and that was like that.

We’d channel our inner critics and pour out our musical opinions.

We even got into fistfights sometimes.

In the end, I’d be the one who got hit and raised the white flag, saying, “Okay, okay, you’re right, Hyung.”

“So when you give a song to an artist, it’s the final decision?”

“Yeah.”

“If the composer and the A&R team leader have a meeting, is that song basically selected?”

I asked with a pounding heart.

Since Hyung was an industry insider, after all.

But Hyung… crushed my hopeful heart. Brutally poked it with needles.

“Nope.”

“Even if it’s supposedly finalized, it can get overturned like flipping a coin.”

“Even after meeting with the CEO?”

“Dozens of people meet the CEO every day.”

“Oh…”

“They can ask for all sorts of things like they’re gonna record it tomorrow, and still toss it aside.”

“That’s messed up.”

“It is. It’s nasty but… it can’t be helped. Aligning opinions is harder than you think. Everyone hears things differently. Even the singer might suddenly reject it.”

I quietly nodded.

So it might not happen. I see.

Better not get ahead of myself.

“Why, are you planning to send a demo?”

“W-well, maybe?”

“Let me hear it. Your big bro will give it a listen.”

“Ooh, sounded a bit professional there.”

“I’ll know in three seconds.”

“Come on. What if the chorus is good?”

“Do I look like I’ve got time to waste? Sit through the whole thing? This guy, seriously. Tsk… So this is how rookies think.”

Hyung shook his index finger and continued.

“You can feel the depth just from the intro. How they handle the program, apply effects, and drop riffs.”

“Brutal.”

“Not brutal. Just think about it. We did the same thing. Didn’t we say right away whether a CD was good or not?”

“That’s… true, I guess.”

“There was this one time…”

He said it’d be short.

I chuckled.

On a night like this, Hyung’s school principal lecture mode was kind of comforting.

It was the first time I was hearing insider stories. How a song comes together.

It was different from what I’d seen online.

It was really fun, interesting, and fascinating…

And somehow, I started feeling like I could soon become part of that world too.

Tap tap.

Han Yujin, who had been typing a message intently, turned off the screen and flung her phone onto the bed.

After debating about a hundred times whether to send the message, she finally decided not to.

“Maybe it’s too late…”

She wondered what CEO Kwak had said.

How he had come up with such a song when he looked at her.

She had a mountain of things she wanted to ask. She wanted to talk about music all night.

And also learn DJing while she was at it.

In Han Yujin’s heart, Taeyoon was already a best friend. Internal intimacy MAX level.

If you could read each other’s mind, wasn’t that what friendship was?

“But… how old is he? Eh, age doesn’t matter if you click, right?”

Thinking about it, she realized she barely knew anything about him.

‘He probably knows a lot about me, though?’

We live in a world where even things you don’t want known pop up in a simple name search.

That’s just unfair.

Han Yujin was curious about Taeyoon.

All she knew was that he was a DJ at Club Sierra, and that although he looked blunt, he was actually very delicate… and that was it.

Just in case, she tried looking him up online, but only scattered SNS mentions came up.

No YouTube, no major portals.

What the heck was that club doing? If they had just created an official YouTube channel, they’d be so much more famous.

Then he could’ve done interviews, and she could’ve seen videos of him every day.

Feeling a bit disappointed, she played “Super Ride” again.

Then she began mindlessly mimicking Taeyoon’s mumbling.

It fit me perfectly… even the height.

I stood in front of the mirror.

I tied my hair back tightly and looked at myself in the mirror.

One line Taeyoon had written at the end of his email kept floating in my head.

‘This is what I truly wanted.’

I felt confident.

Confident that I could clearly express what Taeyoon had envisioned.

Confident that I would never again… disappoint the fans or the agency.

While Club Sierra was under renovation,

I had been spending busy days.

Catching up on sleep I had missed, listening to CDs I had bought but never unwrapped.

I also heard some good news.

My song had made it to the final selection.

After a week passed, I visited ToMe Entertainment again.

Ah, thankfully, I dressed comfortably this time.

“Writer Seo, it’s even nicer to see you again after a week.”

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“We’re the ones who should be grateful you came on such short notice. By the way, dressed like this, you look really young. I’d believe it if someone said you were in high school.”

“I’ve completed military service.”

CEO Kwak’s eyes curved like crescent moons.

I hadn’t noticed before because I was nervous.

Right, this guy was actually surprisingly kind.

They say compliments should be mutual. So I sincerely said one too.

“I heard ‘Hold Me Tight’ playing in the hallway. It was really nice to hear it again.”

CEO Kwak, who had been looking at his laptop, suddenly lifted his head.

What was with his eyes…?

“Really? You mean it? You know that song?”

“Yes. I listened to it a lot when I was younger. I also liked the B-sides. ‘Irresistible Story,’ for example.”

“People your age usually don’t know that song… What did you like about it?”

His eyes were shining with intense expectation.

I answered casually.

“I liked how the melody just pounded into my ears relentlessly. I think that’s what a song should be.”

“That’s what a song is?”

“Yes. These days… songs have too much English. They ramble in English, and I’m not sure if I’m listening to a pop song or a Korean one… oops.”

Maybe I felt too relaxed in these clothes.

Even my words came out comfortably.

I glanced at the CEO for his reaction.

What the heck, what’s with those eyes?

“Wow… I really like you, Writer Seo.”

“Excuse me?”

CEO Kwak closed his laptop and began asking me all sorts of questions. They were all songs I knew.

Was it just my imagination, or did his eyes look like they had turned into hearts?

He said he called me in because of the lyrics,

But now he was passionately talking about his own album. Why did this suddenly remind me of my hyung?

“…So I made it over in the U.S., but when I listened to it back here, it just wasn’t right. So guess what I did…”

It was pretty interesting.

I nodded and chimed in at the right moments as I listened attentively to CEO Kwak’s story.

Stories about how music is made? I could never resist that.

About 30 minutes must have passed like that.

Knock knock—

As the door opened, a faint smell of cigarettes drifted in along with a woman I didn’t recognize.

“Am I late? Sorry.”

She greeted CEO Kwak first and then smiled as she reached her hand out to me.

She looked very familiar.

She studied my face closely and then spoke clearly and slowly.

Her mouth was smiling, but strangely, her eyes felt intense—was it just my imagination?

“You’re the rookie composer, right? Thought you were a trainee. Nice to meet you. The CEO begged me so much, so I came out. You’re even younger than I expected. You really write songs? I don’t teach boring people. Let’s see what you’ve got. Let’s see how well our rookie composer can keep up.”