“Wow……!”
“This is insane.”
“It wasn’t like this last year.”
Exclamations of praises echoed from all corners of the A&R Team 1 office.
And the ones drawing those gasps were none other than Oh Hanbit and Ryu Hail on the screen.
“Ryu Hail’s pretty good too.”
“He’s always been decent. It’s just that his voice doesn’t suit every song.”
Artist and Repertoire.
A&R for short.
Originally, the A&R team was responsible for discovering, signing, and nurturing artists, while also finding, contracting, and producing songs that suited the company’s artists.
But as the entertainment industry gradually became more specialized, the former responsibilities were passed on to other teams.
Casting handled artist scouting.
Legal handled contracts.
Training oversaw artist development.
Now, the A&R team focused entirely on music-related tasks.
Because of that, they could be absurdly busy during big projects, but also enjoy a fair bit of downtime in the off-season—like now.
That was because the single album for Low Five, which Team 1 was mainly responsible for, had been put on hold.
Part of the delay was because Team Leader Woo had flown to Japan over the blacklist issue, but more than that, it was because he was obsessed with getting a song from “that lunatic.”
So, with some extra time on their hands, the members of Team 1 were watching Tomorrow K-Star under the guise of “monitoring.”
“By the way, didn’t Cha Hye-mi diss the main PD?”
“Oh yeah. Apparently, she got a song from some rookie composer.”
“If she’d just stayed quiet, she might’ve gotten some sympathy votes. Why would she do that?”
“Who knows. Maybe she didn’t want the company’s help?”
Assistant Manager Jang Wonho asked, and Lee Dong-hyun answered.
Just a few days ago, Dong-hyun had bloodshot eyes from watching CCTV footage every day. Now, his face looked calm for once.
All thanks to Team Leader Woo being out of the country.
“She shouldn’t be reacting emotionally like that. Either way, the deal was that her debut album would be released by our company.”
“True, but from what I heard, it sounds like she’s being given full control over it.”
“Control? Don’t tell me she’s composing the songs too?”
“No, nothing like that. But apparently, she’ll be in charge of everything from the album concept to the planning. She might even choose the songs herself.”
“Why?”
“Why else? Director Im Guk-han wants the album to come out, but the CEO still doesn’t like her. Officially, it’s to highlight her ‘talented artist’ image more.”
Dong-hyun glanced around and added in a low voice.
“Honestly, I think the CEO’s being kind of harsh.”
“The CEO may be overdoing it, but it all started with Cha Hye-mi. How can you report your own coworker as a stalker? If AT had been a well-known artist, she would’ve ruined his career.”
“Oh, come on. If you want to talk about who started it, it was AT. He followed her into the practice room in the middle of the night. That’s a crime, period.”
“You really think Hye-mi felt threatened? In the end, AT—”
Jang Wonho paused mid-sentence. He’d been about to say, “AT got beat up by Hye-mi,” but stopped himself.
AT getting hit by Hye-mi was a top-secret matter that regular employees should never find out about.
“In the end what?”
“Nothing, forget it. More importantly, where’d you hear that stuff about Hye-mi running the album project? That’s the first I’ve heard of it.”
“Oh, I overheard it when I pulled an all-nighter with Team Leader Woo watching CCTV footage. It’s not 100% confirmed, but it sounds likely.”
“Why would he tell you that kind of thing?”
“Maybe he sees me as his successor.”
“Successor, my ass. Did you even do the task he gave you?”
“Task? What task?”
Dong-hyun looked confused, then his eyes widened.
“Oh crap! The SNS post!”
“Didn’t he tell you to post it at six?”
It was already seven o’clock.
Team Leader Woo liked to joke around and had a laid-back leadership style, but when it came to missed deadlines, he’d blow up.
“You could’ve reminded me!”
“I just remembered myself, idiot. Less talking, more typing.”
At Jang Wonho’s words, Dong-hyun scrambled to his computer and pulled up the file.
[We’re Looking for the Composer of This Song]
A short post, but one catchy enough to grab public attention.
It had been written personally by Team Leader Woo Jae-yoon.
So we’re really posting this, huh.
Despite all their efforts, Woo and Dong-hyun never managed to uncover the identity of “that lunatic.”
They’d rewatched the lobby CCTV countless times, rechecked it together to make sure nothing had been missed, but came up empty-handed.
Woo had even gone so far as to look into every celebrity who’d entered the building on the session revision date.
They’d already checked the singers once, so this time they looked into actors and others outside the music industry.
After all, people in the creative arts might have unexpected inspiration.
But even then, there was no trace of the mysterious HSH.
At this point, there was only one theory left.
- AT uploads the song online.
- The lunatic downloads it and composes a new version—with synced sessions!
- The lunatic uploads it again.
- AT drunkenly downloads it using a company computer.
The most plausible explanation now required at least four insane assumptions to hold together.
There’s no one registered under the name HSH with the copyright association.
What if HSH isn’t the composer’s name but the song title?
Could be. I’ll check with people from other entertainment companies one last time. If you don’t hear back from me by Friday, post it.
Where should I post it?
Where else? All three of our official SNS accounts. I already got approval, so just make sure it goes up on time.
Friday—the day Woo mentioned—was today.
Dong-hyun attached a video to the SNS post, using the text Team Leader Woo had written.
To appeal to netizens who dislike long posts, they’d turned HSH’s song into a subtitled video.
Because of the video, the upload didn’t go through instantly and got stuck loading.
I hope he doesn’t flip out over the upload time…
Dong-hyun glanced at the clock—7:05.
He felt uneasy about exceeding the scheduled time. That was because he knew just how scary Team Leader Woo Jae-yoon could be when angry.
Lee Dong-hyun anxiously waited for the loading screen to finish.
Then, he suddenly noticed how quiet it was around him.
Just a moment ago, the area had been buzzing with noise, but now, aside from the song playing on the TV, everything was silent.
“Huh?”
He looked around and saw that everyone had their eyes wide open, staring at the screen.
Without realizing it, Lee Dong-hyun turned his gaze to the TV too.
At that moment, Jang Su-rim’s high notes and Cha Hye-mi’s chorus exploded from the speakers.
From then on, Dong-hyun’s expression was no different from everyone else’s.
His earlier anxiety over the upload completely vanished.
The moment Jang Su-rim and Cha Hye-mi’s stage ended, the exact same post went up on all three of MOK’s official social media accounts.
@Official MOK Entertainment
We’re looking for the composer of this song.
Hello. I think this is my first time posting on the official SNS.
I’m Team Leader Woo Jae-yoon of A&R Team 1, the team responsible for discovering and developing the music of MOK artists.
The reason I’m posting this is because… (More)
–So Team Leader Woo is the one who picks all the songs for Blacklist Oppas too? I really loved this album! Can’t wait for the next one!
–What kind of PR stunt is this to find a composer like this?
–Let me guess, we’ll soon hear “genius composer” this and that.
–Why is everyone so bitter? They said they already used all their company’s resources to try to find the composer but couldn’t.
–Resources? What, are they a wanted criminal?
–No, seriously, this isn’t even funny. Have you heard the song? It’s insane. How did someone even make this?
–I was shocked too. I study MIDI at a contemporary music academy, and this feels like something only top composers could do.
–Even for a top composer, this would be tough. The song is practically made of some kind of perverted segmentation.
–Oh, here come the experts.
–So, they’re offering 3 million won if you find the person who made this? And even concert tickets for MOK artists?
–From the reward details, it doesn’t really feel like just a PR move.
–Nah, it’s still just PR. Dumb people fall for it so easily.
–PR stunt or not, if the song’s this good, of course they’re desperate. Are your ears broken?
–I don’t know about the technical stuff, but the music really is beautiful. Feels more like a piano piece than a pop song…
–Yeah, I think it’s better without lyrics too.
–Could it be a classical performer who made this?
–If so, the arrangement is too modern and commercial for a classical musician.
–MOK is making great music because they’re passionate about finding great composers. Anyone who saw 2K just now knows what I mean.
–2K? What about Tomorrow K-Star?
–Cha Hye-mi absolutely killed it. Like, completely killed it. A clip will be up soon, make sure to watch it.
–Oh, really? So it finally got good after the qualifiers?
–Looks like it’s going to get really fun now. Bringing in season 2 contestants was a genius move.
–Today’s episode was amazing. Next week’s gonna be great too.
–Mir oppa, fighting!
Cha Hye-mi and Jang Su-rim had been buzzing with excitement ever since their performance ended.
The results weren’t out yet, but no one knows better than the performers themselves whether a stage went well or not.
Their stage had definitely gone well, and the audience’s reaction confirmed it.
The judges lavished them with praise and gave them a record-breaking score of 299—Tomorrow K-Star’s highest ever.
It was impossible not to be excited.
Wanting to share the joy, Hye-mi looked around as soon as she came offstage.
Not far away, she spotted Seon-ho beaming at her.
“Oppa!”
With a flushed face, Hye-mi ran over to Seon-ho, her loose waves bouncing gently.
“Did you see our stage?”
“Of course.”
“What did you think?”
At her question, Han Seon-ho let out a thoughtful hum and stroked his chin.
“I’m a bit worried.”
“What? Worried? About what?”
Hye-mi blinked her long lashes in surprise at his serious expression.
Just then, Seon-ho broke into a smile.
“Worried about how to top this for your next performance.”
“Oh, come on!”
Realizing he was joking, Hye-mi smacked his shoulder.
Maybe because she was still riding high, her reaction was more intense than usual.
As Seon-ho rubbed his arm, he thought of AT.
Wouldn’t be surprising if he lost…?
She didn’t earn that black belt for nothing.
Jang Su-rim, who had just been texting her mom, saw what happened and burst out laughing.
She could tell Seon-ho was actually in pain.
As her laughter subsided, Su-rim asked, “Oppa, how was our performance?”
“It was amazing. Your vocals were great, Hye-mi’s were great, and the harmony between you two was perfect. ‘Perfect’ is really the only word that fits.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“It’s all thanks to you and unnie.”
Overjoyed, Su-rim grabbed both Hye-mi and Seon-ho’s hands and started spinning in a circle like a traditional ganggangsullae dance.
Seon-ho, sensing the eyes on them, gently slipped away, but Hye-mi and Su-rim kept spining.
“Oh, right! I almost missed my beat earlier while listening to your harmony, unnie!”
“Seriously? Did I mess up?”
“No, your timing and pitch were spot on, but it felt like a completely different emotion just exploded out of nowhere—it was amazing!”
They kept chattering on, unable to come down from their high.
“Oh, oppa! What’s the internet saying? Did you check the feedback?”
“I didn’t monitor it closely since I was focused on the show, but the response has been great.”
“Really? No one’s complaining about the VTR?”
“Well… at first, yeah, but the live performance shut that all down.”
Su-rim had been worried about the VTR. She was afraid Hye-mi might come across badly for helping her out.
So she poured even more effort into the stage.
She believed only a truly stellar performance could turn things around for Hye-mi’s image.
Sensing what was on her mind, Han Seon-ho smiled warmly and held out his phone.
“Wanna see for yourself? This is the MBN real-time chat board.”
“Unnie, unnie, let’s check it together.”
“I don’t usually read comments…”
At her hesitation, Seon-ho just shrugged as if to say, don’t worry.
“Just take a look.”
A moment later, two heads leaned in toward the phone.
