Several days passed after that.
In the meantime, Hyunseung had moved all his belongings into the company studio and finished setting up.
“Hyunseung!”
Manager Kim appeared with a big smile on his face.
“Why are you so excited, sir?”
“It feels like a friend moved in next door, you know?”
“But we used to see each other every day before I moved in.”
“Now we can have every meal together at the cafeteria.”
Just as Hyunseung was shaking his head in disapproval—
Knock, knock.
Someone knocked on the door of his private studio.
“We’re here to install the coffee machine.”
“Come in, come in!”
Manager Kim gestured as if it were his own place.
“What’s with the sudden coffee machine?”
“Well, you drink coffee often.”
“Did you buy it for me, sir?”
“I was going to, but…”
Manager Kim hesitated briefly before adding quietly:
“Jini moved faster and bought it first.”
“You mean Seo Jini, the one I know?”
“Yeah, that Seo Jini. I was a bit surprised too.”
Manager Kim patted Hyunseung on the back and continued:
“Thanks to you, Jini’s stock has really skyrocketed lately, and she’s super busy.”
Then he leaned in and whispered:
“She said that even though she’s busy, she wanted to buy you a coffee machine.”
“So what are you trying to say?”
“Well, seeing how she listens to you and even gives you presents…”
“I mean, I did produce results worthy of a gift, didn’t I?”
“It’s more like she wants to be a bit closer to you…”
Hyunseung cut off Manager Kim, shaking his head.
“Sir, by any chance, have you read traditional Korean folktales?”
“I’ve read a fair share, I guess.”
“You know—the magpie, the swallow, the dog, the tiger, and so on.”
Then he added quietly:
“Even animals know how to repay a kindness.”
“And?”
“Well, Seo Jini is human, isn’t she?”
With a shrug of his shoulders, Hyunseung continued:
“She’s just trying to repay a favor, that’s all.”
“Is that so…”
“Anyway, why did you come here, sir?”
Manager Kim, now ready to talk about business, pulled a notebook out of his jacket pocket.
“I wanted to ask: who do you want to work with on your next project?”
“Can I just pick whoever I want?”
“You managed to make even the troublesome Jini a success, right?”
Manager Kim paused a moment and added,
“So basically, you’re in a position to get an OK from almost anyone.”
He licked his fingertip, flipped through his notebook with a soft rustle, and went on,
“I’ve written down a full list of singers currently preparing new songs. Any of these would be lucrative projects for you.”
Hyunseung interrupted. “Hold on a second.”
“When do the monthly evaluation results for the trainees come out?”
Manager Kim frowned curiously. “Why? Do you know any trainees?”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Well, today happens to be the monthly assessment.”
“And the results?”
“They come out tonight, so…”
Glancing at his watch, Manager Kim murmured, “Should be soon,” then asked again,
“What’s this about?”
Hyunseung dodged the question, then suddenly grinned mischievously as if struck by an idea.
“Is it okay if I decide on my next project tomorrow?”
Manager Kim just stared at him, unable to answer, trying to read his inscrutable expression.
What is this kid plotting…?
There was no way to know.
For some reason, a chill crept up Manager Kim’s spine. He chalked it up to his imagination.
“Arin, maybe you’re wasting your youth on a talent that’s just so-so.”
Jeong Arin, crouched in the practice room, kept replaying the trainer’s words in her mind.
“I’m not sure if it truly helps you for me to keep giving you empty words of encouragement like, ‘You can do it, just hold on a bit longer.’”
“I want to tell you to hang in there because you can make it. But maybe that’s just an irresponsible pep talk without any real plan…”
She knew crying and making a fuss wouldn’t solve anything—
“Please, just give me one more chance…”
She clung to the trainer’s pant leg, someone she’d worked with for years.
“The decision’s final. Just clear out your dorm by the end of this week.”
He sounded remorseful but remained firm.
And so, the trainer who’d delivered the news turned and left without hesitation.
“Is it really over just like that…”
She stayed alone for hours in the empty practice room.She knew she should leave, but she couldn’t bring herself to go.
Unable to accept that this was the end, she sat there muttering to herself for a while.
“Alright, let’s go…”
It was time to wake up from her dream and return to reality.
She’d spent most of her teens as a trainee.
She’d stubbornly put all her energy into just one thing…
What do I do now…?
The thought that the “well” she’d been digging might instead become her grave made her feet feel heavier. She couldn’t move.
With a deep sigh, she finally left the practice room and headed toward her personal locker.
Creeeak―
The moment she opened her locker, one thought crossed her mind:
How pathetic.
Wasn’t this the place she’d spent the last six years?
For a typical late-teen girl’s locker, it was utterly bare—there wasn’t even any makeup.
She had carried on with her trainee life like going to war every day, clinging to any chance she had.
She never imagined that her life as a trainee could end so abruptly.
Shoving a tracksuit, some emergency medicine, band-aids, and other personal items into her bag,
Bang—!
She slammed the locker door in her frustration.
Thud―
A small rectangular card fluttered to the floor.
“Huh?”
She bent down and picked up the card. It was a business card from LS Entertainment.
Oh, that’s the card from that guy back then…
Suddenly, she remembered a composer who had visited the practice room.
“If you fail as expected, give me a call.”
She’d thought he was just a strange person at the time.
“Who knows, maybe if you’re interested, I can help?”
If what he said was true, he might be exactly who she needed now.
In-House Composer “HS”
She had never heard that name before. The neat letters on the card looked unfamiliar.
It didn’t take her long to make up her mind.
She pulled out her phone and called the number.
Ring—
Who knew how long it rang?
“Yes, who is this?”
Soon, a man’s voice came through the receiver.
“I asked who’s calling.”
He sounded annoyed, practically scolding her.
“Hello, I got your number from a business card.”
“Business card?”
“We met in the practice room once!”
“Practice room? What practice room?”
“During monthly evaluation prep—I’m a trainee.”
“Trainee? Huh.”
“You gave me your card. You don’t remember?”
A brief silence followed.
“Oh, right.”
It seemed he’d finally recalled.
“You’re the one who was on the verge of failing the monthly eval and getting kicked out?”
“I said it was possible I might get cut…”
“Is that so? Looked to me like you were definitely out.”
Arin furrowed her brow.
What’s his deal? Is he being rude on purpose?
She momentarily thought about hanging up, but—
“Anyway, you called because you want my help, right?”
She hesitated, then answered weakly, “Yes.”
“Let’s meet in person.”
“Where should we—”
“LS building, 2nd floor above ground, Section B, Room 103.”
She scrambled to grab a pen from her bag so she could write it down, but—
Click.
He’d already hung up.
“What the—really…?”
She let out a hollow laugh.Who on earth was this man?
She wasn’t even sure if he could really help her, but—
He might be my last hope…
At this desperate juncture, even the slimmest possibility was worth chasing.
Just once, just one try…
She decided to meet “HS,” even if it turned out to be a gamble.
On the second floor of LS Entertainment’s B Section, every room was a personal studio for composers.
Even though she’d been a trainee here for quite some time, this was her first time setting foot in this area.
She stopped in front of Studio 103, hesitating to knock.
She suddenly recalled some of the rumors she had overheard in the company:
“I heard Seo Jini was on the verge of being dropped after this album, but the new composer took charge and saved her.”
“Apparently he never sleeps—like a dolphin, he naps for five minutes a day, then cranks out songs like it’s nothing…”
“He’s supposed to be really cranky, too. Even Seo Jini supposedly acts all meek around him.”
“But thanks to his success, the company president and the board of directors adore him now.”
No one seemed to know his name, but rumors about this rookie composer were flying everywhere.
Could that weirdo be this composer…?
After pondering for a while, Arin steeled herself and knocked on the door.
Knock, knock―
No matter how many times she knocked, there was no response.
“Hello―?”
She cautiously turned the doorknob and peeked inside.
“Excuse me…”
The studio was empty except for an odd, continuous music track playing in the background.
♪ Rabi-bo-bet-ta-u…♬
An upbeat tune spilled out through high-end speakers, as if beckoning her into the room.
♪ Boop-boo-ba-tyu, ra-bi-bbae-bbu…♬
She had never heard anything like it in her life.
Is this some cartoon theme song? And what language is it?
In reality, the music was the OST from Animal Island, a game Hyunseung often played when he had spare time.
But from what she could see, someone was obviously here. The monitor was on, the desktop humming quietly.
She walked over and looked at the screen, which displayed an empty search engine page.
Why would anyone search for something like this?
Typed into the search bar were the words “Factors causing turnip prices to rise.”
Below that were related search terms: “bulk buy turnips,” “turnip price chart,” “turnip coin,” “turnip all-in”…
Arin had no clue what any of that meant and grew more confused.
Of course, these were references to in-game “turnip” prices in Animal Crossing, but Arin had no way of knowing that.
He really might be strange…
She wondered if she should quietly leave. At that moment—
Creak―
The studio door opened.
“Damn. Turnip prices dropped again, and I went all-in…”
Those were the first words Hyunseung muttered as he walked in.
Turnip prices? Don’t tell me he actually invests in turnips?
A giant question mark seemed to pop up over Arin’s head.
She’d heard of people investing in Bitcoin, stocks, real estate… but turnips?
This was a first.
“What the—when did you get here?”
Finally, their eyes met.
Hyunseung glanced at her without much interest and walked to his chair, sitting down.
“You failed as predicted, right?”
He flopped onto the sofa and asked calmly.
“Yes, as you so accurately prophesied…”
“How many years were you a trainee?”
“Well, in total, about six years now.”
“After all that hardship and adversity, you got kicked out, huh?”
In a flat tone, Hyunseung added: “Must be disappointing.”
Arin narrowed her eyes.
“Did you call me here just to rub it in?”
“No, of course not.”
“You said you could help me.”
He let out a quiet “Hmm” and then spoke:
“Let’s confirm one thing: you’re completely out, correct?”
“Yes. I was kicked out pretty decisively…”
“It’s a shame, but there’s no overturning that decision.”
“You said you could help, though!”
Silence hung in the air for a moment.
“I’ll debut you some other way.”
“…What?”
“If you do what I tell you.”
Arin bit her lip. She did that whenever she was deep in thought.
They were practically strangers—she’d only met him once. Now he was offering her a chance.
Even more suspicious was the condition that she obey him.
“Why? Don’t like it?”
She couldn’t trust him yet, nor did she know what exactly he might demand. Yet if she refused, she’d forever be branded “the trainee who got expelled from LS Entertainment.”
Leaving now would likely make it impossible to sign with another agency.
In other words, stepping out of the building meant the end of her dream.
She had come this far despite her parents’ objections; going back empty-handed was not an option.
After chewing nervously on her lip, Arin finally spoke, sounding deflated:
“You really can get me to debut?”
“I said I would.”
“Then what exactly do I have to do?”
“Just do what I say.”
At those words, anxiety flickered across her face.
“Huh…?”
The entertainment industry could be extreme sometimes.
Whether it was shady gatherings, sponsors… you name it.
Come to think of it…
She knew other trainees who had fallen for sweet talk like this and ended up badly hurt, leaving the industry altogether.
Gulp—
Arin’s face showed clear apprehension as she looked at Hyunseung.
“All right, repeat after me,” he said.
“Yes…?”
“Say: ‘I’m nothing but an instrument.’”
It was certainly an odd request.
“I’m nothing but… an instrument.”
Then he continued:
“Would an instrument be able to speak?”
“What? No…”
“Does an instrument have a personality of its own?”
“No.”
“An instrument only makes the sounds its player intends, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Arin answered each of Hyunseung’s questions in turn until—
“Good,” he said, sounding pleased, as he got up from his seat.
“Now, let’s do a quick test.”
“A test? What sort of test?”
“To see whether you’re worth giving one of my songs to—or not.”
Arin’s eyes widened.
“This… this is it? That’s all?”
She had expected much worse demands—things that might be impossible to accept.
She had even prepared herself for requests like:
“Get your parents to fork over some large sum of money,” or “Accompany these VIPs at a private party,” and so on…
But instead, Hyunseung just looked at her like she was the strange one.
“What else?”
“Pardon?”
“All right, enough. Tell me—would an instrument waste its player’s time asking pointless questions?”
Arin opened her mouth but only managed to move her lips silently before responding,
“No… it wouldn’t.”
“Exactly,” he said. “Then let’s start the test right away.”
She realized at once:
He’s… really going to treat me like an instrument.
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