Chapter 72
Growing up.
A period everyone has to go through, and one that must be passed through in order to become a normal adult.
Various changes occur in the body, but those weren't what mattered to me.
What mattered was that I was about to enter the stage when my voice would change.
In fact, considering that I was about to enter third grade, this was a fairly early stage of growing up.
“You have precocious puberty.”
The brief period when I was in Korea after filming Do You Like Music? and before departing for Tokyo.
I was still being called out to various places one after another during that time, but in any case, I also visited the most important place—the hospital.
A doctor reputed to be fairly well-known in this field diagnosed me with precocious puberty.
Precocious puberty.
Simply put, it was a symptom of puberty arriving early.
It didn't pose any particular health problems, but it had the side effect of reducing my final height by roughly five to eight centimeters.
“Have you felt even slight discomfort in your throat?”
“…I didn't feel anything like that. I came because I'm too short.”
“I think your voice will probably start changing soon. Even among girls with precocious puberty, you're a little early.”
“During that period, I shouldn't sing… right?”
CEO Lee Hajin had come with me as my guardian, and asked the doctor that question.
“Yes. If you think about the future, you shouldn't force yourself to sing. However, considering Siyeon's current situation… it might be better to delay the timing with medication.”
I closed my eyes for a moment and fell into thought.
Then I looked at Lee Hajin with a serious expression and spoke.
“Let's take next year off, then.”
“…! B-but taking a break at this point…!”
“Hmm… Since I have to take a year off anyway, I think it's right to do it now.”
Because I wouldn't be able to carry out proper activities for the next year.
I wasn't certain, but there was a high possibility that would happen.
But the others didn't know that yet.
So all I could do there was vaguely brush it off as a personal hunch.
The decision was postponed until the new year, and after discussing with Lee Hajin that we should think it over slowly, I forgot about it.
However, one day, when various news outlets competed to report some breaking news, Lee Hajin and I had no choice but to recall that memory.
[Breaking News) First domestic COVID-19 case confirmed, a college student who traveled to China…]
“Shall we take a year off?”
“Let's do that.”
It was only a week after the release of my full-length album.
* * *
Watermelon Weekly TOP 100
1. platonic love story-Seo Siyeon
2. TICTOK-Starlight
3. Running Through Time-Seo Siyeon
4. To My Youth-Blooming
5. A Letter to __-Seo Siyeon
.
12. shape of trip-Seo Siyeon
15. Jelly Pop-Seo Siyeon
22. glassy sky-Seo Siyeon, Blooming
69. PODIUM-Seo Siyeon
87. Goodbye, My Four Seasons-Seo Siyeon
98. Peach-Faced Lovebird-Seo Siyeon
There were nine songs by Seo Siyeon alone on the weekly chart.
The public was calling this album a huge success, and I had to agree.
There were six songs from this album alone on the weekly chart.
Even “Goodbye, My Four Seasons,” which had seemed about to drop off the chart, reappeared near the bottom.
That was how impressive the weekly chart was, and the daily chart had even more songs listed.
Obviously, that was impossible through the power of a single fandom alone.
No matter how large a fandom was, it was impossible at this point to have several songs on the weekly chart.
In other words, my songs had been fully embraced by the general public.
At the same time, I also benefited considerably from the recent controversy.
Even people who didn't know much about me or weren't particularly interested in me would listen to a song at least once if they saw it on the chart.
And if they liked it, they would put it straight into their playlists.
As proof, the number of listeners for platonic love story from this album was clearly higher than that of my previous songs—roughly 1.2 times higher.
“This is enough.”
Even taking into account the lingering effects of Singer Star and the WMA controversy, it was an absurdly impressive result.
It was enough to make me wonder whether I could ever achieve results like this again.
Normally, I should have ridden this momentum by continuing to release songs and holding concerts until I had firmly established myself as a solo artist.
I had originally planned to do that as well.
But first of all, I was simply too young.
I decided that handling a schedule of consecutive work and concerts was completely impossible for me.
If I held a concert in my current condition, wouldn't I be completely drained after thirty minutes?
I needed to build up a normal human level of stamina before thinking about going to concerts and events.
But the biggest reasons were the early arrival of puberty and
[Already 50 confirmed cases in Korea alone. Fear of the epidemic rapidly approaching]
[The authorities plan to use somewhat extreme quarantine measures if the spread continues at this rate…]
the plague that had descended upon the entire world.
In truth, this epidemic brought a golden age to various cultural industries.
Webtoons and web novels gave people forced to stay inside a new source of entertainment.
The OTT industry, led by N Company, swallowed up the film and television industries around the world.
Domestic internet broadcasting entered an unprecedented golden age, and this was when young people's interest began shifting completely from variety shows on established broadcasters to YouTube-based influencers.
Shorts and Reels also appeared, ending the era of long-form content and ushering in the era of short-form content, while the music industry likewise saw shorter songs with catchy, easily remembered highlights become mainstream.
In my previous life, I had experienced all of that firsthand and was a composer who had achieved fairly good results by adapting to the changing trends.
My hard drive still held a truckload of unreleased songs suited to those trends, and as a composer, the epidemic was, in a way, an excellent opportunity for me.
But as the singer Seo Siyeon… it was far from a good time.
Ninety percent of a singer's income comes from concerts and live performances.
Surprisingly, even for idols who sell enormous numbers of albums, the share of total revenue generated by albums, merchandise, or music streaming isn't particularly high.
In other words, you can't make money during the COVID period.
And especially during the first year, there was a strong possibility that I would not only make no money but also receive no attention.
“Even if money isn't really a problem… there's no reason to keep working during a period when I can't make money, especially if it means getting injections.”
Of course, I would continue composing.
Blooming and the idols who would debut in the future needed to take advantage of the COVID period and row while the tide was coming in.
What else could I live on if I didn't pursue music?”
“Eeeang? Ah, but if you stop working now…”
“It'd be like refusing to row when the tide is coming in.”
I answered Yoo Seol-ha, who had rushed to the company the instant she heard my news.
My popularity was currently breaking through the heavens and rising into space, and depending on how I continued my activities, it might be possible to maintain that popularity for a long time.
Still, even aside from those practical reasons, I thought it was right to stop my activities at this point.
I flashed a crafty, mischievous smile at Yoo Seol-ha, who was looking puzzled.
“If I stop working while I'm at my most popular… aren't you curious what will happen? I am.”
* * *
Korean Popular Music Awards.
KMA for short.
Unlike the WMA, it was an awards ceremony sponsored by a government institution, renowned for awarding talented artists through an independent judging process rather than simply giving awards to popular artists.
However, the most important award, ‘Musician of the Year,’ was a little different.
No matter how highly an award valued artistic merit, selecting the recipient of the most prestigious award inevitably required taking popularity into account to some extent.
In that sense, the KMA's grand prize was effectively predetermined to go to Seo Siyeon.
She was the one who had captured genre diversity, new experimentation, and popularity all at once.
Normally, the KMA also arranged several performances, creating an atmosphere that was somewhat solemn but still festive to a certain degree.
But the atmosphere at the end of the year, which should have been bustling with excitement, was a complete mess in many ways.
The KMA organizers were informed by the government that the situation would inevitably drag on, so they held back tears and had no choice but to hold the awards ceremony online rather than in person.
“…So you want me to prerecord a video? An acceptance-speech video?”
“We plan to hold the ceremony remotely without any attendees, but conducting it through a live video call could be somewhat unstable, so unfortunately, we have no choice but to proceed this way.”
“I understand. Hmm… It doesn't really feel like I've won an award.”
It was the end of the year, and with all the year-end performances canceled, I had nothing particular to do besides endlessly watching dramas and anime in the studio.
At the KMA's request, I filmed an acceptance-speech video.