The public remembers movies but not the directors.
The public remembers singers but not the producers.
The public remembers top actors but not the creators behind them.
Yet, among these unseen figures, there was one who shined the brightest.
Among those called Producers, he stood above all.
People called him the Star Maker.
Session 1. Killing Source
One day in September 2007.
Office workers rushing to work in the morning briefly paused.
It was because of an unfamiliar sound coming from a familiar place.
At the heart of Daejeon, surrounded by banks and businesses, stood a small park called Wooridul Park.
From there, the sound of classical piano music could be heard.
However, the office workers quickly turned their gazes away.
There wasn’t enough time to leisurely watch a street performance during the morning rush.
Amid the repeated cycle of fleeting interest and indifference, Korea’s world-renowned young pianist, Kang Yoon-seop, continued his performance.
This was part of a 100-day street concert tour across ten cities, each lasting ten days, under the theme “A Place Where Time Stands Still.”
It was an event organized by the Korean Pianists’ Association to raise funds for 100 children with incurable diseases.
However, this meaningful event was nearly canceled at the planning stage.
When the association proposed the idea, every pianist declined.
Performing for 100 days while traveling across the country was simply too demanding.
Even now, there was a lot of talk among pianists about why Kang Yoon-seop, a globally recognized next-generation musician, had accepted the offer.
Some were envious, saying he could afford to do such things because he was wealthy.
Others spread rumors that he had received a large sum from the association.
After all, the amount of money Kang Yoon-seop could earn in 100 days was far from insignificant.
But even his fame and talent meant nothing in the face of capitalist reality.
The office workers passing indifferently through Wooridul Park. To them, Kang Yoon-seop’s performance was no different from the background music playing in a shopping mall.
Yet, within that indifference, he found freedom.
He was well aware of his fellow pianists whispering about his choices.
But he had no ulterior motives.
He simply wanted to improve his skills through this experience.
The complete indifference of the audience.
The unfamiliar environment where no one was listening.
He wanted to break past his own limits within it.
That was why he hadn’t prepared a fixed set of play for his 100-day performance.
At times, he played well-known pieces, but mostly, he performed improvisations based on his feelings at the moment.
Today was the first day of his performance in Daejeon, the third city on the tour after Seoul and Incheon.
Having studied abroad since childhood and mainly performed overseas, this was his first time in Daejeon.
He translated his first impression of Daejeon into music.
The landscape was similar to Seoul, yet carried a different atmosphere.
A different way of speaking. Different expressions.
While deeply immersed in his performance, Kang Yoon-seop suddenly sensed an unusual gaze.
When he glanced around, he saw a scruffy-looking boy staring intently at him.
The boy appeared to be in the upper grades of elementary school.
Despite his young age, he had an undeniably handsome face.
The interesting part was that his eyes never left Kang Yoon-seop’s hands.
Not only that, but he was gradually inching closer to the piano.
After finishing his piece, Kang Yoon-seop, taking a short break, struck up a conversation with the boy.
“Hey, kid. What’s your name?”
“Han Seon…woo.”
“Nice to meet you, Seon-woo. I’m Kang Yoon-seop. How old are you?”
But instead of answering, the boy asked a question of his own.
“What was that just now?”
“What do you mean?”
“The song. This is a piano, right? Are you… a pianist?”
“It was just an improvisation, yes, this is a piano, and yes, I’m a pianist. Anything else you’re curious about?”
The boy thought for a moment before asking,
“If it was an improvisation, does that mean you just played it randomly?”
“Not randomly. I expressed the emotions I felt at that moment through the piano.”
“How do you play emotions?”
“Hmm, that’s a tough question. Listen closely. This one is sad.”
Kang Yoon-seop placed his hands on the piano.
A moment later, the boy’s eyes widened.
“This one is happy.”
A short piece conveyed joy.
“What do you think? Do you get it now?”
“But earlier, your song wasn’t happy or sad.”
“Oh? Then what kind of feeling was it?”
Kang Yoon-seop asked with a playful smile.
He was always a kind person, but today, he was being especially patient.
Perhaps because this was his first conversation since arriving in Daejeon.
Or maybe because, after a long time, he finally felt noticed.
‘Why does this child’s small interest feel so much heavier than all the attention I’ve ever received before?’
Lost in thought, he missed what the boy said.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
The boy hesitated, looking somewhat nervous now.
The curiosity in his eyes had faded, replaced by apprehension.
“I’m sorry if I was wrong.”
“No, no, it’s not that. I just didn’t hear you. Could you say it again?”
The boy mumbled before finally speaking.
“It was… boredom pretending to be passion.”
“What?”
Kang Yoon-seop’s eyes widened.
“And also… indifference pretending to be interest. And greetings pretending to be sincere.”
“……!”
At that moment, Kang Yoon-seop realized the real reason he had accepted the association’s proposal.
He was trapped in a creative rut.
Yet, the feeling had been buried so deep inside him that he hadn’t even recognized it himself.
And this boy, standing right in front of him, had perceived it purely through the music.
Stunned, Kang Yoon-seop watched as the boy visibly relaxed, as if reassured that he had guessed correctly.
“I have to ask… How did you know?”
“Um… do I have to show you, like you did?”
“What?”
Just as Kang Yoon-seop looked at him in disbelief, the boy stepped forward and pressed a few piano keys in sequence.
He didn’t seem to know how to play, as he tapped them lightly with a single finger.
“You played it like this earlier, right?”
Kang Yoon-seop couldn’t believe how many times this child had caught him off guard today.
This boy had sensed the underlying essence of his performance.
Because no matter how many technical skills or fancy techniques a pianist used—
At its core, every performance had a flow.
And this boy had grasped it.
If you play the piano strictly according to the sheet music without understanding its essence, no matter how well you play, you will never go beyond the title of a technician.
Only by grasping the essence can one truly earn the title of pianist.
And if you go further, changing existing flows and creating new ones, you are worthy of being called a maestro.
The notes the child in front of him tapped out were the fundamental flow of Kang Yoon-seop’s improvisation.
It was just that various expressions had been layered on top of it.
“But if you really felt passion, joy, and interest, wouldn’t this be the right way to play?”
Kang Yoon-seop, who had been in a state of constant surprise, felt doubt for the first time.
The child’s performance was too heavy to be considered an expression of passion and interest.
“Why? Why do you think this is the right way to play?”
“Because it’s something difficult and painful.”
“What?”
“Trying and caring about something is naturally hard, isn’t it? At least, that’s how it is for me.”
For a moment, it felt like he had been struck in the head.
The child was right.
Effort is inherently difficult.
At some point, Kang Yoon-seop had become obsessed with the idea that playing the piano should be enjoyable and that performing should always be a happy experience.
Because of that, he had denied even the natural struggles, and that denial had developed into stagnation in his growth.
It felt like a storm was raging in his head.
Before it could pass, he hastily spoke.
“Would you like to hear this?”
“Can I watch from behind? I can’t see your hands well from the side.”
“Sure. Watch from behind.”
Seated at the piano, Kang Yoon-seop struck the keys, pouring out the storm in his mind.
As a child, he had played the piano to repay the love and attention of his adoptive parents, but over time, that had unknowingly turned into an obsession.
His childhood, filled with that pressure, spilled onto the keys.
A ten-minute improvisation.
A performance so raw and desperate that it felt like a waste to have no audience.
The most honest, the most intense performance he had ever given.
Having poured everything out, Kang Yoon-seop turned around, his heart pounding.
He wanted to see the child’s eyes.
He wanted to see what expression the child was making.
But—
There was no one behind him.
It was only then that Kang Yoon-seop realized his bag and wallet were missing.
“A pickpocket?”
Realizing the child’s true nature, Kang Yoon-seop immediately reported it to the police.
Not to recover his belongings.
He was searching for something far more important.
A talent that no amount of money could buy.
For ten days in Daejeon, Kang Yoon-seop searched for Han Seon-woo but found no trace of him.
It seemed likely that “Han Seon-woo” wasn’t even his real name, given that he had approached him with the intent to steal from the start.
But Kang Yoon-seop did not give up.
As soon as his commitments with the association ended, he returned to Daejeon and started gathering information about the boy.
Yet, his whereabouts remained unknown.
There was a tip that he had been at an orphanage, but when he checked, the boy was no longer there.
After dedicating an entire month to the search, Kang Yoon-seop had no choice but to leave Daejeon empty-handed.
After that, he became extremely busy.
Once recognized as a world-class young pianist, he was now shedding the “young” label and stepping up as a true global pianist.
Still, whenever he had a reason to visit Korea, he would make a habit of stopping by Daejeon.
But the boy was never there.
As time passed, Kang Yoon-seop eventually gave up on finding him.
Around that time, he finally signed a contract with a foreign agency that had been courting him for years.
Since he and his adoptive parents were moving overseas, he would have almost no reason to return to Korea, a less significant country in the classical music world.
Yet, he believed that one day, he would meet the boy again.
Because talent that brilliant could never remain hidden.
Ten years later, in September 2017.
The small hands that had clumsily pressed the keys in front of Kang Yoon-seop had now grown into the hands of a young man, pushing open the doors of MOK Entertainment.
There is no real “off-season” in the entertainment industry, often called show business.
This was especially true for the music sector under Team Leader Park Cha-myung.
If one had to pinpoint a slow period, it would be mid-October to mid-November, right before the college entrance exams, when major artists took a break.
But even then, the charts were dominated by rookies aiming for a No. 1 debut and mid-tier artists making long-awaited comebacks.
Thus, entertainment companies remained busy all year round.
MOK Entertainment was no exception.
It was unfortunate, however, that the biggest reason for their current busyness was the catastrophic failure of Lo-Fi Five, a five-member boy group that had debuted a month ago.
“Team Leader Park.”
Park Cha-myung, head of Management Division 1, Team B, looked up at the familiar voice calling his name.
“What is it, So-yeon? Did Lo-Fi Five get cut from their music show schedule? Are they really refusing to let them perform? No response at all?”
“Huh? No, that’s not it.”
“Then what?”
“Someone’s here to see you. I ran into him at the entrance on my way back from an off-site meeting, and he’s waiting in the lobby now.”
“Who? A celebrity?”
“Yes. He brought your business card.”
Park Cha-myung tilted his head in confusion.
He hadn’t arranged any meetings with an artist from another company.
“What’s his name?”
“Um… I’m not sure.”
“Do you at least recognize him?”
Assuming it was a minor celebrity he had occasionally seen on TV, Park Cha-myung nodded in understanding.
But So-yeon shook her head.
“Now that I think about it, he seems like someone I’ve never seen before.”
“What? But you just said he’s a celebrity.”
As Park Cha-myung looked at her in bewilderment, So-yeon pointed downstairs.
“You’ll understand when you see for yourself why I said that.”
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