Hyunseung had been getting text messages from men far more often lately—totally against his will.
“Why are they all acting like this…?”
Lee Du-seok and Moon Beom-jae would send greetings so old-fashioned it felt like they came from another generation, leaving him embarrassed over how to answer.
And Kang Hajun…
–Today I made “mu pickle.” ^^
–Hope it ferments nicely.
Apparently the guy was on a cooking show; any time he had a spare moment, he bragged about some radish-related dish he’d made.
Not that Hyunseung cared in the slightest.
“What on earth…?”
Then there was Ahn Jiho, who seemed to treat Hyunseung’s text window as a “send-to-myself” memo pad:
–Current chart ranking: #7
–Radio show “Rising Again Special” request
–Bacchus energy-drink commercial inquiry
—short notices any time the song climbed or a new booking came in.
And the real highlight…
–I told you to stop flirting around, right?
–Now they’re even looking for you from New York.
–If you keep this up, I’m going to have nightmares again tonight.
(from Manager Kim).
–We just got an official letter from the New York Philharmonic—call me when you see this.
–By the way, what day are you coming back to Korea? Should I pick you up?
–When you get home, I’ll give you all my cafeteria meal tickets.
–I’ll buy you coffee every day—venti. No, make that “giant-ti.”
Ever since Hyunseung left for Europe the man’s texts had dripped with unmistakable anxiety.
“Separation anxiety, maybe…”
Rereading the thread, Hyunseung’s eyes narrowed at one phrase: “New York Philharmonic.”
“Hm?”
Why had the Philharmonic sent an official letter? A potential collaboration with LS Enter? He’d never thought LS’s reach was that big…
Better call and check.
The matter looked serious, but before he could ponder further—
“Oppaaaaa!”
His sister burst from her room, breathless.
“What’s with all the racket?”
“Look—look at this!”
She shoved her phone in his face.
[TOP 100]
1 To the One Who Had Only Me– Yoon Jaeyi
2 Moonlight – Kang Hajun
…
5 le seul – The Moon
6 Dear My Beethoven – HS (feat. Moon Beom-jae)
The updated Korean streaming chart.
“So what about it?”
“Your songs are beating each other up for the top spots!”
Right now, Yoon Jaeyi’s “To the One Who Had Only Me” was everywhere thanks to a “Write a diary entry about your parents” challenge—in just weeks it had rocketed past Kang Hajun, who’d ruled #1 for nearly two months.
Even Hyunseung had teared up, thinking of a mother he didn’t remember. A cross-generational hit, no doubt.
Seeing her brother’s tracks duel for #1 and #2 made Hyuna ecstatic—yet, as a Hajun fan, a tiny bit sad.
Very, very, very tiny…
What really stunned her was The Moon climbing to #5, leap-frogging “Dear My Beethoven.” Their fanbase was growing; net reactions were great. The day The Moon took the crown would come, surely.
Hyuna, who had replayed Ahn Jiho’s “vocal guide” video 1,293,485 times lately, realized she might be falling for them.
No—she shook her head. As a premium member of Hajun’s fan café she couldn’t possibly support another guy… right?
But if you think about it, she wasn’t cheering The Moon per se—she was cheering her brother’s song.
Still, you can’t lie to yourself.
“Uuugh.”
This inner conflict felt harder than the entire K-Singer Star finals.
“Why isn’t there such a thing as co-#1 on the chart!”
Hyunseung watched her split personality with exasperation. What goes on in that little head?
Enough, he thought, ignoring her and grabbing his bag. Notebook, pen, laptop—just in case inspiration struck.
Tomorrow, we hop to Spain, he reminded himself. After that, back to Korea; a trip only counts when you come home.
Once home, the second half of the year would be swallowed by work on his new solo album. With all the new “instruments” he’d found, he felt sure it would surpass the first one.
“Min Hyuna, quit flailing and start packing.”
“Yessir!”
For now, making memories with family came first.
“Coffee delivery!”
Engineers practically pounced when Manager Kim arrived, arms full of cups.
“IV drip, right on time.”
“We owe you!”
“I was about to pass out.”
Peering past them, Kim saw their DAW (digital audio workstations) screens—dense code-like waveforms, a modern art mess of lines.
He had come to A&R to “transfuse” caffeine because they were burning through secret mastering sessions for Hyunseung’s “Project X.”
“How many tracks has he dumped on you?”
“Four so far,” Team-1 leader said. “At this point, I swear he flew to Europe just to work.”
“No kidding. Kid should try enjoying a vacation.” Kim chuckled.
“And these four are all in mastering?”
“Yup. He sent rough beats and guide melodies, then asked for ultra-fine mastering.”
Kim palmed his forehead—typical perfectionist.
“Slave-driver.”
“Honestly, it’s fun,” an engineer said. “These songs are so good it’s an honor to hear them first.”
Others chimed in:
“Sometimes we just sit there in awe and realize an hour’s gone.”
“I get tingles hitting play.”
Kim felt proud—like a dad praised for his kid. Our golden boy…
Yet a thought struck: Why hasn’t he called?
He’d texted about that New York Philharmonic letter and got silence. Did they contact him directly already? Worst-case scenarios spun in his mind. Anyone would covet that genius; maybe it was time to let him roam the world…
“Manager Kim, something on your mind?”
“Eh? No, nothing.”
“If you’re free, cafeteria lunch?”
He shook his head. “You guys go ahead.” Strangely, he’d lost his appetite.
David Austin kept to his routine, heading for Sarah Stewart’s studio.
Sigh.
These days whenever they met, both he and Sarah only sighed.
More than a week had passed with no clue to the owner of that discarded score. They’d staked out the café, cruised busy streets—nothing.
Going crazy.
Austin’s groan drew Sarah’s vigorous nod. Besides that anonymous piece, one of her own album tracks still waited because the mystery man had tweaked a section.
“Should we print ‘wanted’ posters?”
“Then I need a sketch before his face fades completely.”
“Maybe file a false report—let the police find him?”
“Too psychotic.”
Their hopeless brainstorming was cut short.
“President, here you were!”
Andrew, the company’s ace casting manager, burst in with a tablet.
“Make it quick, Andrew—not in the mood for jokes.”
“No joke. I’ve found something huge—want the video?”
Austin nodded wearily.
A busking clip from YouTuber Leo filled the screen.
The moment the woman began singing—
What is that voice?
Shock wiped the boredom from Austin’s face. Within one bar, goose-bumps stabbed from fingertips to scalp.
A nuclear-grade dynamite, not just “huge.”
“Got her identity yet?”
“Uh… that’s the thing,” Andrew winced. “We know nothing.”
Austin’s head spun. Damn. They still hadn’t found the mystery composer; now another phantom to chase.
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