Chapter 47

Team Leader Shin waved a hand dismissively, his expression bitter.

Ha. A prince. They were calling him a prince.

I thought of the guy who had suddenly started cooking at home one day and filling the refrigerator with side dishes prepared with surprisingly capable hands.

It wasn’t as though I had forced him to do housework, but sometimes the sight of his back as he struggled away in the kitchen looked strangely forlorn. And lately, a peculiar shadow had been hanging over his face too.

At least someone like him was being called a prince here....

...Wait.

Can’t a prince be forlorn?

The thought suddenly struck me, and my heart began to race.

A forlorn, wistful, dark image. Gowon. And a prince.

This could work.

“Hold on. Just a second.”

I immediately turned on my phone and began tapping furiously at the screen so I could write down the idea. Team Leader Shin waved a hand as though to say that two people in the same creative field hardly needed to ask permission for something like that.

A scroll bar appeared on the note in no time as I poured out every idea that came to me. The concept, lyrics, and melody sprang up in complete disorder before gradually taking shape. The corners of my mouth twitched as I looked at the hazy form emerging before me.

Wow. I want to start working on this right now.

If <Unlimited(∞)> had been a song I poured everything into because the deadline was so tight it was killing me, this was a song that made me want to stay up all night just so I could hear the finished version as soon as possible.

“Look. Look at this. What do you think? It’s incredible, right?”

Team Leader Shin’s eyes widened as he skimmed the contents.

“Hey, I’ll finish this one before I quit.”

That was a clearer sign of a guaranteed hit than anything else he could have said.

It was time to reopen the road of fireworks.

Still, one thing was certain.

Gowon would never regret entrusting his comeback to me.

[Chorus 1]

“Gowon will be making his comeback during the summer season.”

A brief silence followed Kwon Taeyoung’s announcement. Then a sharp question came back.

“When exactly?”

“We’re considering mid-June.”

“Ah. Then it won’t overlap with us.”

The head of Division One softened her voice as though that was all she needed to hear.

“No. We have no intention of getting in the summer queens’ way either. July and August belong to the girls.”

When Kwon Taeyoung added another compliment, she even smiled as though she had never been prickly in the first place. No one disliked hearing their own children praised.

“Gowon’s results were excellent too. How long has it been since a solo artist did this well? I’ll be looking forward to Rookie of the Year.”

“Yes. He got off to a good start, so we’ll have to work especially hard during these promotions.”

“Look at Taeyoung’s face. Taeyoung’s become a full-fledged father now.”

“Director Kwon was like that even when he was the eldest member of Young Ace. Contrary to his appearance, he really loves taking care of people.”

“...Was I?”

“People themselves never notice. It comes from your natural disposition.”

“Still, isn’t the budget a little excessive?”

Executive Director Choi, the head of Division Four, cut into the warm conversation.

“I mean Gowon. He’s releasing a physical album this time. Is that really a scale a solo artist can manage alone? What are you going to do to recoup all of it, release twenty different photocards?” 𝑓𝑟ℯℴ𝓂

Selling a physical album rather than a digital one required strategy in several respects. The most representative example was the inclusion of random photocards, with buyers not knowing which member they would receive. It was designed to target fans willing to keep opening their wallets until they got their favorite member—or completed the entire set.

Executive Director Choi was picking a fight by pointing out that such a strategy was impossible for Gowon. There was obviously a limit to how many different photocards one person could take.

“We plan to release it in reasonable quantities. It will also be Gowon’s first fan signing, so the results should be promising.”

“I don’t know. How many people could he possibly attract to a fan signing all by himself...?”

Knock, knock.

A knock echoed through the conference room, cutting off Executive Director Choi’s crooked voice.

“Mind if I come in?”

A woman suddenly intruded with the corners of her mouth raised playfully. A relaxed smile rested on her face, now in her mid-fifties.

The moment the division heads recognized her, they rose from their seats.

“CEO.”

“Welcome, CEO.”

“Oh, I was just nearby for a visit and thought I’d stop in to see whether anything interesting was happening. Then I heard the division heads were having a meeting. You don’t mind if I join you, do you?”

Yang Okmi, CEO of K-Dom Entertainment, had the powerful projection of a trot singer from her era. Even her casual speaking voice rang through the room.

The CEO sat in the empty seat at the end of the table. That seat immediately became the place of honor. She poked the shoulder of the Division Five head sitting beside her.

“I heard Taeyoung’s division debuted a rookie this time.”

“Yes. Have you seen him?”

“He’s handsome. Good at singing and dancing too.”

“That’s why Hanje adores him.”

“Oh my. His vocals satisfy Hanje?”

“I’ve never managed to meet his standards either. Still, Hanje clearly pays special attention to him and takes good care of him. Gowon is extremely hardworking as well, so his skills improve by the day.”

“I’ll have to meet him sometime. You’re making me look forward to it.”

“That said, CEO, Director Kwon is extremely ambitious, and Gowon seems to be the same way. I worry they might suffer a severe fall later. Starting with his debut, there hasn’t been a single thing that wasn’t unconventional.”

“Hmm....”

Yang Okmi considered Executive Director Choi’s words for a moment, then merely shrugged.

“Oh, I don’t know! I even stopped using the CEO’s office because I didn’t want to interfere and start nagging, remember? So I’m not saying anything! Besides, how could I possibly tell Young Ace not to take bold risks and to play it safe? They became who they are precisely because they didn’t. Right, Taeyoung?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Even Kwon Taeyoung answered her in the comparatively easygoing manner of an artist under her agency rather than as Director Kwon.

“So what kind of song is that boy releasing this time?”

“We’d like the concept for his comeback song shared with us too.”

“Hmm. It seemed like he was considering a slower tempo this time.”

“What do you mean, ‘seemed’?”

“I think Hanje got so excited about working on it that he forgot to give me any notice. He barely answers my calls either.”

The CEO burst into loud laughter.

“Then yes, you should keep your mouth shut and wait.”

***

Beginning [Creation].

The musical talent dwelling within you encounters powerful inspiration and is maximized.

Even without anyone explaining it, I could tell that my concentration had surged until I felt as though I might be sucked into the screen, while my mind spun at dizzying speed.

The exhilaration of standing onstage came from launching a massive firework.

Above the adrenaline soaring high enough to steal my breath, deafening cheers and endless waves of light created by light sticks erupted again and again.

The exhilaration of creation was completely different.

It was the thrill of each moment as the form I wanted gradually became concrete, like dominoes that had to be placed carefully one by one or a tower built from playing cards.

My previous work had been created when my understanding of Gowon barely scratched the surface. It had also been a reuse of a song I had already written.

But this time, I had watched his performances again and again, and I began only after gaining an intimate understanding of what kind of person he was.

A song made entirely for Gowon, from the first foundation stone to the final delicate ornament.

And therefore, a song that would make Gowon shine more brightly than anyone onstage.

After spending two days creating the topline, I attached the lyrics I had thought of in advance here and there. Around then, I summoned Gowon to the studio and presented it to him like homework.

“Fill it in.”

“Me...?”

“Obviously. Did you come here just to cheer, ‘Brother, you can do it,’ while I work? Are you seriously a two-year-old baby?”

“...No. But, Brother, could you please stop using that baby nickname now...?”

“Then what can little Gowon, who isn’t a baby, do?”

The enormous baby fidgeted helplessly before finally taking the guide file and lyric sheets.

“You memorized even Young Ace’s earliest songs, so you should have learned what kind of lyrics suit my music by now, right?”

“.......”

“You’ll be standing in front of your fans with words you wrote yourself.”

While I refined the details of the song, Gowon sat in one corner of the studio, gripping a pen and clutching his head like a student kept after class.

His determination was admirable enough. Gowon never took his eyes off the tip of his pen, to the point that it was a wonder he didn’t stare a hole through the paper.

But he seemed hopeless at keeping his body still in front of a desk. His legs, accustomed to stepping to fast beats, shifted position again and again. He also clutched his thick hair as though he had no attachment to it and intended to rip every strand out.

“Gowon, were you any good at studying when you were in school?”

“.......”

“Never mind. We have plenty of time, so work hard on it.”