When Hyunseung finished dressing and headed for the front door, Hyuna scampered after him like a puppy.
“Brother, are you going to the office?”
Ever since he had arranged that dinner with Kang Hajun she had become overly sweet.
“Yeah, why?”
At his blunt reply she pouted and said,
“There was a fresh chart update this morning. I thought you hadn’t checked yet.”
She held out her phone.
“Congratulations.”
He blinked at the sudden felicitation, then understood.
[TOP 100]
1. Yunseul – Kang Hajun
So she was congratulating him because Yunseul, the summer single he had written, had climbed to No. 1.
It had taken quite a while to reach the throne because the upper tier was solidly occupied.
2. I wish time would stop – Yun Jaeyi (feat. Moon Beom-jae)
3. Dear my Beethoven – HS (feat. Moon Beom-jae)
4. Walk With Me – Kang Hajun
5. The Reason I Sing – Kang Hajun
6. A Handful of Cherry Blossoms – Jeong Arin
Most of them, of course, were his own songs, so it was really his music competing against itself.
“You are congratulating me, right?”
“Of course!”
“You are not just bragging that ‘your’ oppa is No. 1?”
“I am not!”
“It never happened with other singers.”
“T-that’s…”
Unable to answer, she lowered her head. He was right about everything, yet she truly was happy that her brother’s song had reached the top—though it helped that Kang Hajun sang it.
“Stop staring at Hajun and go study.”
“O-okay…”
Before she could irk him further she offered a polite farewell.
“Have a safe day, Brother.”
He shook his head at her ninety-degree bow.
“Whew.”
Dad had said she spent all day glued to her phone watching Hajun. Still, he would do a big-brother’s duty; he knew he could never defeat his little sister.
“Summer break is soon, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I’m thinking of a family trip.”
“Seriously?”
“Pick wherever you want to go.”
“Anywhere at all?”
“Overseas or domestic—anywhere.”
“The exact opposite side of the planet?”
“Sure, we can circle the globe.”
Seeing her hop with joy he thought he should have made time sooner. Never mind; from now on they could tour the whole country—no, the whole world—together.
After he finished recording Jaey,i he would take a week or two off and travel far with the family.
“I’m off.”
He tousled her hair and left.
At LS Entertainment he stopped, as always, at the lobby café.
“Large iced Americano, extra shot?”
The part-timer already knew his order.
After paying he looked for a seat, but the pager buzzed almost at once. Before the chair could even get warm, he walked back for his cup.
“Thanks.”
Returning, he paused. Something felt odd about the table.
“Hmm…”
Had he set down a napkin? No. Had it been there before? Also no.
“What’s this?”
He picked it up and shook it—nothing hidden.
Not a fleck fell.
He laid it back, frowned, picked it up again. On the back, in a handwriting he now recognized, sat a short note.
Composer-nim, may your household be at peace.
I will be brief.
Please, give our group *The Moon* a song.
We swear absolute secrecy.
– the All Night collective
A threat, really.
He glanced around but saw no suspect. So much for a quiet coffee. He texted Manager Kim to come upstairs and headed for his studio.
After hearing the story Kim studied the napkin.
“Good grief,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Like idol, like fandom—fierce.”
“Fierce?”
“I checked that group The Moon after those letters. The fandom calls itself All Night. Other fans joke they’re werewolves, forever howling at the moon.”
“Skip the nature documentary.”
“Anyway, they debuted three years ago, decent looks, solid skills, but every member works part-time jobs, so people call them ‘part-time idols.’”
“Then why haven’t they broken through?”
“Their agency is tiny— no staff, only that group. No money, no promotion.”
“Then they should disband.”
“The CEO pumped in every last won, even loans. Rumor says he drives ride-hail at night to cover debts.”
Hyunseung remembered the small-agency president who had begged him in his past life: ‘If you don’t give us a song, I’m finished.’
The Moon’s CEO must feel the same.
Old nightmares crept up his spine.
“You okay? You look pale.”
“I’m fine.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Kim snapped his fingers. “Oh, the leader writes all their material himself. Everything they’ve released is his work.”
“And still nobody noticed.”
Silence.
“I’ll have legal trace whoever left this and tighten lobby security.”
But Hyunseung was already elsewhere—maybe heaven was giving him a penance quest?
He shook off the absurd thought.
“What was that group’s name again?”
“We orbit the Earth—The! Moon!”
At a provincial college festival, The Moon opened their set with energy, but the crowd stayed cold.
“Who are they?”
Afterward some students muttered the festival was cheap for booking nobodies.
“I’ve had it,” maknae Lee Chanyoung grumbled in the van. “I quit today.”
“Chan-young, stop,” leader Ahn Jiho cut in.
But Chanyoung wouldn’t yield.
“We pay for clothes, makeup, even gas for five minutes on stage! Aren’t you sick of this?”
“We’ll talk at the dorm.”
“No. I’m leaving. Nobody knows us. Didn’t you hear them? We’re trash!”
Silence filled the cramped van.
“Chanyoung, enough.”
Jiho had to be firm. “What about the fans who cheer only for us?”
At the word fans Chan-young flinched and fell silent.
The phone in the console buzzed. Jiho put it on speaker.
“Yes, sir.”
“All done? Swing by the office; I’ve got good news,” said the CEO.
After hanging up Jiho looked back. “You heard him. Let’s hear the good news before you decide.”
“Good news?” Chanyoung scoffed. “The higher the hope, the harder the fall.”
“Then decide after you listen.” Jiho turned the key; the old engine rattled as the van pulled onto the road, heavy with the clatter of tired machinery.
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