Chapter 58
A thought that suddenly occurred to her while playing the piano.
‘Was I right to say that? Should I have just said I couldn’t do it either?’
Whenever that thought occurred to her, she would bang her head and berate herself. “Why did I say I’d do it for no reason…” After a few minutes, she would say again, “No, I said I’d do it because it seemed doable!” Then she would try composing a melody, regret it again, and bang her head.
That had become Hyeona’s daily routine lately. At school, she racked her brain over melodies. She couldn’t even concentrate properly during practice. But what about telling the others? Since Hyeona herself had boldly volunteered to do it, she couldn’t even ask them for help.
‘Why did I do that?’
But think about it. Every one of the other girls was helping the band in some way. Iseo with her uniquely cheerful personality, Seoha with the know-how she had built up in an indie band. And Suyeon went without saying.
But what about Hyeona herself?
Of course, the actual members of Group Sound didn’t think that way about Hyeona. But because of the kind of misconception peculiar to people with low self-esteem… she somehow felt as though she was merely holding her place without making any real impression.
That was why, even knowing it was a little beyond her abilities… when she realized it was a field in which she could shine, she boldly volunteered.
Of course, the result had come back to her as dozens, even hundreds, of regrets.
‘Well, even someone like Hans Zimmer regrets accepting a commission and wonders why he ever took it, so someone like me should be fine…’
Hyeona consoled herself that way. Well, it couldn’t be helped.
* * *
“I’m Park Hwiseok, the music director.”
“Hello…”
A few days earlier, when they had met with the music director to discuss making an OST, he had said, “It isn’t common to contact a team that composes music this way.” Usually, people simply exchanged emails or messages.
Even so, the reason he had come to meet them in person was obvious at a glance. There was a camera crew following the music director. Just as Suyeon had said, they intended to use a “four-member all-girls high school band” to market the OST.
‘Well, it can’t be helped.’
That was what Hyeona thought. It wasn’t as though she looked bad enough that she couldn’t appear on YouTube or anywhere else, and if she became famous, that would only help with her entrance exams for an arts college. Anyway, wasn’t it a good thing?
“The drama has finished its preproduction phase. We’re not a production company that works from scripts written on the fly, so the entire script has already been completed. We also have a rough idea of which parts will feature your music. Of course, we can’t show you the entire script.”
Hwiseok handed them a sheet of paper. It was a fairly polished form, with all sorts of information about a scene written on it. The male and female leads were at odds, and in the course of their conflict, something or other happened…
“Then what kind of song would you like us to make?”
At Suyeon’s question, Hwiseok lightly scratched his chin before speaking.
“Hmm… I’d like a jazz song that’s melancholic, a little bittersweet, with a hint of danger, yet also taut and ticklish, like a playful lovers’ quarrel.”
“Huh?”
At Hwiseok’s words, Hyeona suddenly felt as though she had heard an alien language. What was he talking about? Melancholic and bittersweet and whatever else? What the hell did that even mean, you damn otaku?
“Uh… I don’t really understand.”
“You know, there’s this situation. The male and female leads are subtly funny, but there’s also a little tension, right? They’re just beginning to like each other, but they don’t realize that the other person likes them, and they’re both trying to seize the upper hand somehow.”
Hyeona was about to answer, “I still don’t really understand even when you put it that way…” but Suyeon stopped her. While Suyeon continued talking with the director, Hyeona wondered, ‘Would Somat-nim have understood this better if she were here?’
“Basically, just make something along those lines. Once the melody and concept are submitted, we’ll go through one round of approval and pay the advance. Once it’s completed, we’ll receive the song and pay the balance. We can’t give you much time, so keep in mind that we’ll stick to the schedule I mentioned.”
“Yes, understood. Who will own the copyright?”
“You’ll retain all the credits, while the economic rights will belong to us. You know how music revenue works, right? By default, since you’re the composers and performers, you’ll receive 16%.”
After discussing a few other miscellaneous clauses, Hwiseok said there was one last thing he wanted to mention, put on a serious air, and began speaking.
“I don’t know much about bands. You’re the ones who know about bands, I suppose. But I’m an expert when it comes to drama OSTs.”
“Yes.”
Right, people died if they didn’t drink water. Hyeona sarcastically thought that he was stating the obvious. Suyeon, on the other hand, responded earnestly. Hwiseok seemed to like that attitude, because he continued with a satisfied smile.
“What do you think is the most important thing in a drama OST?”
“Uh… an element that can draw people into the story?”
“That’s a good answer, too. But more than that… it’s about showing the emotions the protagonists can’t bring themselves to say aloud or express through their actions.”
That was surprisingly sensible, so Hyeona discreetly reopened her half-closed ears. Hwiseok took a sip of coffee as though his throat had gone slightly dry, then continued.
“For example, take a scene like that one. What would the character be feeling in that scene? ‘I don’t want to go. But I want you to come.’ If you put that in the script, it becomes too childish. But what if it’s the OST playing in the background? The audience separates the OST from the drama scene, yet surprisingly also identifies with them as one.”
Hwiseok explained things in that vein a few more times before leaving the café. Most of what he had said up to that point had been vague, but thanks to his final explanation, Hyeona felt she had begun to get the hang of it.
* * *
“What do you think? Can you do it?”
“Uh… I think it’ll be okay.”
Seeing Hyeona say that, Myeongjeon thought things had gone well. Honestly, he had wondered whether the producer was doing nothing but spout vague nonsense, so it was a relief that she had understood him.
“But there’s something that bothers me.”
“What is it?”
At Myeongjeon’s question, Hyeona hesitated slightly. Why was she acting like that? Had that Hwiseok fellow given her some disgusting look? Was he trying to make a pass at a high school girl?
“I don’t really understand what it means to like each other, or what melancholic love is.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve never liked anyone before…”
Is that so? Myeongjeon scratched his head. It was true that love was difficult to describe if you had never experienced it.
But at that age, didn’t most people experience love or dating at least once?
There was a famous saying of unknown origin: ‘Love is a demon, fire, heaven, and hell. Pleasure and pain, sorrow and regret all live within it.’ It was exactly the life Myeongjeon had lived.
Thinking about it that way, Myeongjeon felt that when he was young, he had done little besides sleep, play guitar, and date. He was about to offer advice based on his extensive romantic experience, but hurriedly closed his mouth.
‘Had this girl ever dated anyone?’
Among all the memories he had accumulated throughout his life, there were no memories like that in particular. She had simply enjoyed playing with men, perhaps? She had liked to toy with them using her looks, but it seemed she had never entered a serious relationship.
“Ms. Suyeon… have you ever had an experience like that?”
“Huh?? Uh, ah, um… um, uh, um, uh…”
The sudden ambush left Myeongjeon flustered. What was he supposed to say? Should he claim to have experience based on his past life? But that would be a lie. Still, shouldn’t he give her some advice? To do that, he would have to lie again.
He was in a complete dilemma.
* * *
When the song consisting of a simple melody ended, Myeongjeon pressed the button to turn on the microphone.
“It’s good.”
“Really? Thank you…”
The line Hyeona had completed and brought to him was quite good, in Myeongjeon’s opinion. It had a clear progression from beginning to end, with a slightly coquettish, whisper-like melody.
“The problem is figuring out how to turn this into a complete song.”
“Can’t you just finish it? Is there some special problem?”
“I’ve listened to some classical music and jazz, but… I keep wondering whether what I’m making really counts as classical or jazz.”
Myeongjeon laughed quietly so Hyeona wouldn’t hear. Her concern was a common one among creators. Is this right? Was it really rock? Was it really blues? Was it really metal? And so on. He thought that was probably the most representative concern of young creators.
“Genre isn’t something you assign before making a song. You make the song first, then assign the genre.”
“Huh?”
Myeongjeon pulled his chair slightly closer to the desk to explain in detail. His breath drew near the microphone and broke apart with a faint rustle.
“When Park Hwiseok asked us to make music in a classical or jazz style, he wasn’t asking us to make a song that truly belonged to those genres. He wants music that sounds that way to the audience. So you don’t need to obsess over it. If other people think it sounds good, that’s enough.”
“Oh…” Hyeona answered at Myeongjeon’s words. Then she continued.
“Even so, there’s the arrangement… I’m not sure how to put it. I can’t quite figure out how to turn this into a real, complete song.”
“Arrangement is the band’s job anyway… We can work on it together, right?”
That was how Myeongjeon answered. In reality, he would probably handle most of it. It might have been fun to leave it to Iseo or Seoha, but this was the band’s first outside commission.
Myeongjeon didn’t want to leave it to the others and risk them botching it or receiving a poor evaluation. It wasn’t that he thought the girls couldn’t display their talents, but the cleanest solution was for him to handle it personally and make sure nothing went wrong.
“Don’t worry. I’ll make it so that anyone who hears it can’t help saying it’s good.”
* * *
“Oh… this song is good.”
It was a draft track whose MIDI programming was clearly audible, rather than a recording of a real band performance.
Even so, the drums dropped in at just the right spots here and there, while the bass and guitar had a smooth touch, and the keyboard clearly established the lines.
The guide vocal was in a slightly lower register, which made it even more appealing. The backing band’s performance, the melody’s clear progression… the voice seemed to ease the tension Hwiseok had requested.
If a singer hadn’t already been chosen, he would have wanted to use the owner of that voice as the vocalist.
‘This is really beyond my expectations…’
That was what Hwiseok thought. Based on the skill the girls had shown in the session and the band song they had played for him, he had expected a certain level of quality. But, in truth, that was all he had expected.
He had assumed they would produce one ordinary band song and that would be the end of it. Hwiseok had planned to generate some buzz by releasing footage from the OST’s making-of process, including the high school girls’ recording session and interviews with them.
“This is pretty good, isn’t it? Are these really the high school girls that director mentioned? The ones who are filming that making-of film?”
“That’s right. This was only programmed in MIDI, but it’s already beyond expectations.”
The guitar skills that high school girl had shown during the session had been nothing short of shocking. If she hadn’t held herself back, her guitar skills would have been enough to swallow up even Professor Chae Hokeun, who had decades of experience.
Besides, the band’s bassist—she was a little lacking—as well as the keyboardist and drummer were all fairly skilled. If those performances were combined with good lyrics…
“This is definitely going to be a hit, Suhyeong-ah.”
“Yes?”
“I’ll tell Director Lee about it—no, no. I’ll call him myself.”
Hwiseok thought it would carry less weight if a staff member made the call, so he decided to contact him personally. After a few rings, a voice with a hint of annoyance came through.
“Oh~ Director Lee! This is Park Hwiseok. Is the shoot not going well today? No, no, it’s not that. We’re making an OST this time, right? You’re asking whether we’ve started recording already? No, it’s not that. A draft came in, and—what? I’m telling you, if you hear it yourself, you’ll go crazy.”
Hwiseok rambled on while carefully testing the waters. Whatever happened, they needed an okay from him before they could move on to the next step.
“The reason I called is that we’re looking for a song to pre-release from the OST, right? I was wondering if we could go with this one. Yes. No, the singer is undisclosed—no, even just listening to the song, you’ll like it. Why not reveal the singer? We have to keep her undisclosed so that when the singer and song are finally revealed, it’ll create a real shock. Where are you? If you have time now, I’ll come tell you in person…”