Seon-ho had completely forgotten about the song called HSH after composing it.
Aside from the significance of it being his first original composition, the song didn’t hold any special meaning to him.
Yet, the song he had abandoned came to life on its own.
It had gained traction without any promotions, public relations, or distribution.
There could only be one reason for that.
The song was good.
Good enough for listeners to assign it value on their own.
“No doubt about it.”
The words blurted out without thinking, simply because he was in such a good mood.
Yeah, there was no doubt.
That kid’s faith hadn’t been misplaced, and he clearly had talent.
Of course, Seon-ho had already been aware of his talent.
If he didn’t have any, he wouldn’t have been able to make Autumn Leaf.
But HSH was different from Autumn Leaf.
Autumn Leaf had external elements—Cha Hye-mi and Jung Su-rim.
There was no denying that the success of that song was partly due to Hye-mi and Su-rim’s involvement.
But HSH was not like that.
The life embedded in this song was purely his own.
The energy that had captivated MOK’s production team—all of it was his.
Seon-ho suddenly searched for HSH on a major portal site.
He was curious about how outsiders, not affiliated with MOK, were reacting to the song.
And the search results far exceeded his expectations.
Especially the number of social media hits—it was staggering.
At first, he thought maybe it was because there was a reward for tips about HSH. But on closer inspection, that wasn’t the case.
The real drivers behind the soaring social media numbers were two singers.
@Drake88
If MOK is looking for composer HSH, I’d love to try sampling this track too.
The moment I heard it, inspiration just struck me hard.
If any All-In-One fans see this, please share MOK’s post so HSH can see it too.
@SingSangWon
Listening to this track felt like my withered inspiration finally started to bloom again.
I really hope MOK finds the composer HSH.
So I can water this newfound creativity.
Drake—the leader of the nation’s top idol group All-In-One, and one of the top three highest-earning male entertainers five years running.
And Jang Sang-won—who started in the underground scene and became a legend in his late 30s solely through his singing, now recognized as Korea’s vocal powerhouse.
Drake represented top-tier idols.
Jang Sang-won represented elite vocalists.
And these two singers had mentioned HSH on social media—at the same time.
At this point, it was impossible not to think about it seriously.
How can I make the most of HSH?
While Prefer had been exposed to people around him to some degree, HSH had not.
There was absolutely no visible connection between him and HSH.
Which meant—if he used Prefer and HSH well, he could operate both inside and outside MOK as a composer.
Just as Seon-ho was mulling over how to proceed, someone opened the meeting room door.
Lost deep in thought, he only noticed the presence belatedly and got up from his seat. It seemed Director Kwon Hosan had arrived.
“Huh? Team Leader Park?”
But the person standing there was Team Leader Park Cha-myung.
“What, punk? Not happy to see me?”
“No, sir. I just saw you at lunch, so I was wondering why you were here again.”
“Director Kwon had something urgent come up. Today’s meeting’s off. But he said to be at MBN by 9 a.m. tomorrow. Your mentor will call you soon.”
“You came all the way just to tell me that?”
“Yup. And to talk to you about Personal Color, too. I figured I’d leave that to Director Kwon, but since you’re reporting in first thing tomorrow, there’s no time.”
Park Cha-myung began to explain about Personal Color.
Personal Color.
A co-ed idol group with five members that debuted in January 2015.
Counting by debut year, they were in their second year, but since they debuted in January, they were just near of completing a full three years of activity.
Despite that, Personal Color had accomplished next to nothing in those three years.
Their biggest career highlight? A single that hit number 10 on the music charts—for a whopping three hours.
That said it all.
Even that modest achievement came from a single album.
Their ambitious full albums—first and second—were both kicked off the charts within just three days.
To be honest, MOK’s producers found Personal Color to be a perplexing group.
The songs assigned to them hadn’t been bad—in fact, the A&R team had put significant effort into matching them with quality tracks.
It wasn’t that the individual members lacked skill, either.
From their trainee days, they had all been known as tireless practice addicts.
After recording sessions, engineers would often say, “This one feels like it’ll do well.” Because, on paper, there was a lot of potential.
Yet, the results were consistently same.
Strangely and consistently dismal.
It wasn’t that they lacked promotional points. It wasn’t that they lacked buzz.
But they could never break the surface.
When people encounter something inexplicable, they often try to interpret it in ways they can understand.
At MOK, everyone thought that the problem with Personal Color was An Jia.
Personal Color was a five-member co-ed team—three women and two men.
The male members: main vocalist Teiji, and rapper Woochan.
The female members: leader and lead vocalist Baek Songyi, main vocalist Riha, and sub-vocalist An Jia.
One leader who was also a lead vocalist. One male main vocal. One female main vocal.
One rapper.
One sub-vocal.
A pretty textbook group composition.
Normally in such lineups, the sub-vocalist would be relatively low-profile.
But not An Jia.
Though her role in the group was sub-vocalist, that wasn’t how the public saw her.
To the public, she was a massively popular actress at the peak of her fame.
Seon-ho had heard from Park Cha-myung about the situation Personal Color was in.
There were a bunch of tangled factors involved, so the story was pretty long, but if you boiled it down to one sentence, it was this:
A team where everyone hated each other.
That was Personal Color.
“What the team leader meant was that the songs were good, but they didn’t get popular because there was no synergy, right?”
“Exactly. Personal Color is a team that’s hard to give up on—if only because of Ahn Jia. That’s why both the A&R team and the PR team pushed them as hard as they could.”
“Do you think they’re slacking off on purpose?”
There were cases where severe conflicts within a team led to intentional underperformance.
But Park Cha-myung shook his head firmly.
“There are teams like that, but Personal Color definitely isn’t one of them. If anything, I heard they practice more than they did as trainees. Must be their competitive instincts kicking in.”
“Hmm…”
Hearing that made Seon-ho a little confused.
If they were all trying their best because of rivalry, the conflict didn’t seem like such a huge issue.
As long as the music was good, that fierce competitiveness might actually be a plus.
Well, I’ve never been on a team with in-fighting before, so…
Seon-ho convinced himself with that thought.
Either way, he’d be working with Personal Color starting tomorrow, so he could judge for himself then.
“Oh right, Seon-ho.”
“Yes?”
“Did you tell Hye-mi that she’s being reassigned?”
“I texted her earlier, but she hasn’t replied. Maybe she’s sleeping?”
“No, she should be nearby. She said she had a meeting with the A&R team about the second round performance.”
“Really? Then why hasn’t she replied…”
Just then, the conference room door opened.
Seeing who had just walked in, Park Cha-myung muttered,
“Hye-mi’s no saint either, huh.”
Just as he said, the one who entered was Hye-mi.
Session 8. Personal Color
Manager Kwon Hosan was someone who could easily be promoted to a team leader position if he wanted. His career was strong enough to warrant it.
The reason Kwon Hosan still worked on-site with just the title of “manager” was simple.
He liked being a field manager who took care of artists—and he was good at it.
He had a sharp instinct.
Everyone said so, and he believed it himself.
He wasn’t like the famous Yoo Ayeon from UU Entertainment, known for discovering hidden gems and putting them in the spotlight.
But when it came to caring for already polished gems, he had an exceptional touch.
And Kwon Hosan had two specialties that made use of that talent.
The first: finding the best possible combinations among trainees who were ready to debut.
In other words, forming new teams.
The second: caring for teams whose teamwork was falling apart.
Rebuilding team dynamics.
About a year and a half ago, MOK had assigned Kwon Hosan to Personal Color.
They wanted him to save the group’s crumbling teamwork.
At first, Manager Kwon had been confident.
To him, Personal Color was a team with clear potential. In fact, it was strange they hadn’t succeeded yet.
All five members were good-natured. As long as trust was built, the synergy would naturally follow.
And unlike the rumors, the members didn’t seem to hate each other.
But Kwon’s confidence was shattered just one month into managing the team.
The more time he spent with them, the more that initial positive impression faded. All he could sense now was mutual dislike, jealousy, and resentment.
He tried everything he could to care for the team, but the more he tried, the worse their teamwork became.
Then what was that first impression I had? Has my instinct dulled?
The thought came naturally to Manager Kwon.
Time passed, and in the meantime, Personal Color’s debut album—backed heavily by MOK—flopped.
Meanwhile, “actress An Jia” was rapidly climbing the ranks.
By the time their second album was ready, she’d already landed the lead role in a prime-time drama. On top of that, movie offers started flooding in.
To sum it all up: Personal Color’s second album flopped hard, and An Jia’s drama hit a 28% viewership rating.
The higher An Jia rose, the more the group’s teamwork deteriorated.
And to put it plainly, this upcoming mini-album was their final shot at survival.
That’s when the new rookie manager arrived—Han Seon-ho.
Manager Kwon Hosan was in a bad mood that morning. Or rather, he had been in a good mood when he first woke up.
To be exact, his mood turned sour the moment he arrived at the dorm to pick up the Personal Color members.
Same as yesterday. Same as the day before that. And the day before that.
That chilly air hanging between the members—it hadn’t changed.
Maybe it really is time for me to quit fieldwork.
He’d been thinking that more and more lately. Probably because he could see the end of Personal Color drawing near.
The once-bright promise he saw in them now felt like proof his instincts had gone dull.
It’s tough…
Regardless of his mixed feelings, the van carrying Personal Color sped smoothly down the road.
After a while, the car began to slow.
They were nearly at the broadcasting station.
At that point, the driver, Jung Jiwoon, checked the rearview mirror and spoke quietly.
“Manager, should we go through the back entrance?”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? The front entrance will definitely…”
“We’re going through the front. We need at least one decent photo cut.”
At Kwon Hosan’s words, Jung Jiwoon hesitated, then nodded.
Today, Personal Color was scheduled to appear on MBN’s music program Music Box.
The difference between Music Box and other shows? Where the schedule began.
For music programs, the day didn’t start when the cameras started rolling. It started even before they entered the building.
Camera flashes from fan photographers and entertainment reporters lined up at the entrance—that was the real beginning of a music show schedule.
Jiwoon had hoped to avoid that barrage of flashes by using the back entrance.
Because the moment they stepped through the front, all the cameras would turn to An Jia. The other members would inevitably feel the sting of comparison, and that sting would—as always—turn into icy tension.
“Oh, right. Jiwoon—did you tell Han Seon-ho to meet us at the station?”
“Yes. He said he left about an hour ago, so he should be there by now.”
“Park and meet up with him. Come up to the waiting room together.”
“Got it.”
After hearing Jiwoon’s reply, Kwon Hosan turned to look at the back seats where the members sat.
“Songyi, you’re the leader, so you get out first. Then Woochan, Jia, Teiji, and Riha. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“Understood.”
The members of Personal Color shifted in their seats as instructed.
Whatever their issues were, they always followed instructions well.
They’re fundamentally good kids, so why is this team so…
Before he could finish the thought, the van carrying Personal Color smoothly pulled up to the station’s main gate.
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