The word “gi-i-hada (기이하다)” is a word that carries the meaning of being peculiar and strange.
It’s also a word not often used in everyday life.
Because usually, experiencing peculiar events or phenomena is uncommon.
But right now, to Kim Woohyun, only the word “peculiar” came to mind for this situation.
“It’s really peculiar. Peculiar….”
No wonder.
Odd collaboration letters and proposals were coming in through the management inbox.
And that wasn’t all.
The A&R team was no different.
“Division head…”
The team leader who headed A&R Team 2 was someone who rarely ever groaned.
“Emails and calls are flooding in so much right now we can’t work.”
But that team leader now was groaning and looking at him with eyes begging to be saved.
“For now, just ignore all of them….”
Feigning ignorance of that look, Kim Woohyun turned away.
There was nothing he could do for them at the moment.
Right.
The reason emails and calls were pouring in right now was because of Hyunseung.
Before the broadcast even began, Red Thread was already the talk of the town.
As the first episode started to air, it was revealed that HS had sung the main OST and the public cheered.
Last time, they even gave him the nickname “a voice of a thousand tones,” saying his vocal here felt different from “Letter,” which he’d sung himself on his solo album.
Up to there was fine, but… it seemed the buzz wasn’t only among the public; composers were chattering day after day as well.
Right.
At present in Korea, just having the name “HS” on a headline guaranteed stable clicks, and the saying went that any singer who sang an HS song had boarded the express train to the charts.
Moreover, HS himself sang the song?
And then he even sings well?
To an unknown composer without a single hit, or a limping one-hit-wonder composer, HS would look like a lifeline.
Sure, of course.
It wasn’t incomprehensible.
“Is it normal for composers to send love calls to a composer?”
The team leader swept back neatly arranged hair and asked for a moment.
“Well, if Mr. HS sings it, it’ll sell, so I guess I’d do the same.”
At that, Kim Woohyun nodded, “That’s true.”
It wasn’t just talk. He really agreed.
But what good is an agreement?
For Hyunseung, it would be entirely unwelcome news. No doubt he’d furrow that smooth forehead and say, “Why would I do that?”
From what Kim Woohyun had seen of Hyunseung, he only chose to do things he thought would be fun and enjoyable.
The two songs he sang himself were fun projects to him, so he sang them.
Above all, other composers’ songs wouldn’t be fun.
Therefore, he would never sing or feature on another composer’s song. Arranging, maybe, but that was different.
“Uh, then…”
Unaware of what Kim Woohyun was thinking, the engineers, excited, raised their hands one after another to add a word.
“If the day comes when Mr. HS goes into the recording booth, can I go in as assistant director?”
“Then I’ll do the final mastering!”
“Me too, me too!”
Come to think of it, it struck him that the people who clicked best with Hyunseung in the company were the engineers.
For the first time in a while, Kim Woohyun joined Hyunseung at the company cafeteria and just watched for an opening.
“Hm….”
He had called him out to talk about the peculiar phenomenon happening in the LS Entertainment building.
No, not the building.
Around Hyunseung.
But as for how to put it into words…
At first he thought he just wouldn’t tell him, but then decided he should, since it was an issue about Hyunseung himself, and set his chopsticks down.
“Hey, Hyunseung…”
Just as he was about to finally force his lips to move—
Bzzzz!
Hyunseung’s phone vibrated.
“Ah, again….”
Whatever it was, when he checked the screen, his brow crumpled hard.
“Something wrong?”
“Jayble is talking nonsense.”
“What nonsense?”
“He’s asking me to feature on his solo album.”
At that, startled, Kim Woohyun said, “Huh?”
“I mean, does it make sense to stick me on there just because he has no one else to feature? I’m a composer.”
“That’s because you sing well…”
“Leaving that aside, why on earth would I be desperate enough to feature on a song another composer made? Right?”
With his face practically in his lunch tray, Woohyun answered, “R-Right,” and gulped down a large spoonful of soup.
It felt like the rice had gotten caught in his throat; he thought he might get indigestion.
Yes, better not tell him after all.
So thinking, he changed his mind, deciding he’d post an official notice on the company intranet to reject en masse any love calls or collaboration proposals coming to HS.
“Weren’t you going to tell me something?”
Popping a meat patty into his mouth, Hyunseung asked.
“Ah, no! I was wondering if Hyoeun’s song was done.”
“We’re actually recording it this evening…”
Suddenly, the phone on the table—Woohyun’s—buzzed.
Bzzzz!
Jerking his chin toward the phone, Hyunseung added,
“Dad, your phone’s ringing.”
“Ah, oh…”
Not realizing it was his, Woohyun hastily picked up the phone he’d left face-down on the table.
Then:
“Huh?”
His eyes went wide as saucers as he read yet another peculiar text.
Summoned by a call from the head of the company’s security team, Kim Woohyun hurried down to the security office.
“What on earth is going on?”
“Sorry to bother you when you’re busy.”
Whatever had happened, the head was already drenched in sweat.
“She was making such a serious disturbance in front of the building that we judged other fans could be put at risk, so we brought her to the security office first and contacted you.”
Shifting his gaze toward the inner room, he added, embarrassed,
“She’s shoving a family relationship certificate at us and claiming she’s the mother of our artist, Lee Hyoeun.”
“Ha…”
“She’s demanding either Composer HS or a person in charge come out, asking whether we can sign a contract without a guardian’s consent.”
Clutching his head, Woohyun thought: the day has already come.
He wasn’t more surprised than he’d expected, because he’d heard the backstory from Hyoeun.
Of course.
It did make him think, “So there really are mothers like this in the world.”
Just because you gave birth, doesn’t mean you’re entitled to be called “Mom.”
“I’ll go in and talk to her.”
Straightening his lapels, Woohyun walked to the security room door.
“Be careful, Division Head. I don’t think her hands are very well-behaved.”
Nodding once at his’s warning, he slowly opened the door and went in.
Creak.
A woman visible through the crack.
Eyes unfocused and gone slack.
Lips and fingertips trembling.
A face gone sallow and rough, drained of blood.
“How wretched.”
The woman he’d pictured, listening to Lee Hyoeun’s story, was sitting in a chair, huffing—exactly as he had imagined.
Honestly.
He’d hoped she would be at least a little different from his imagining.
Right.
Because it was so exactly the same, the shock doubled back on him.
“Truly the worst.”
To anyone’s eyes, she looked like an alcoholic.
“Are you Ms. Lee Hyoeun’s mother?”
Without betraying anything, Woohyun posed the question.
“Yeah!”
But.
For some reason, like a wild beast starved for days, she immediately bared her teeth and shouted.
“I told you I’m Lee Hyoeun’s mother! How many times do I have to say it! Are your ears just for show?”
“We need to verify your identity. May I see your family relationship certificate and your ID?”
The woman claiming to be Lee Hyo-eun’s mother then yanked the certificate and ID out of her pocket and flung them toward his face.
“Hey! Check it! I said check it!”
Thanks to a quick twist of his body, Woohyun didn’t get hit, but it had been a long time since he’d been treated this rudely, and he was in a foul mood.
However, He was the face of the company, a division head.
He couldn’t just respond emotionally.
“If you keep resorting to violence instead of conversation, our legal team will have no choice but to get involved.”
“Law, law, law! Always so high and mighty, aren’t you? From the cops on down, why is everyone only giving me sh*t!”
Even so, he had no intention of letting her meet Hyoeun, much less Hyunseung.
Right.
They absolutely must not meet.
“Victim and perpetrator, after all.”
Just then, as Woohyun showed a hard glint in his eyes and took a step toward the woman presumed to be Hyoeun’s mother.
Creeeak.
The security room door opened.
Clomp, clomp—
A man presumed to be Hyunseung walked in with imperious air, a flame-mark helmet pulled down over his head.
“Y-You—why are you here?”
Woohyun wasn’t the only one flustered at the sight.
“What is that now?”
Startled, the woman staggered backward and even tripped over a chair, falling comically.
Striding over to her, Hyunseung crouched in front of her and asked in a flat tone,
“How can you call a person ‘that’?”
“W-What!”
“‘That’ seems a bit much.”
“Who are you!?”
“Apologize for calling me ‘that.’”
A person who refers to someone as an instrument and yet bristles at the word “that” is a bit contradictory, but it’s one way or another.
Even a hedgehog finds its own young cute, doesn’t it?
“Yeah, calling a person ‘that’ was too much.”
As Woohyun was nodding minutely,
“Hey, you’re the one in charge, right?” the woman, still flustered, pointed a finger at him and asked.
“I said I came to see my Hyoeun! Is it okay to lock people up and try to intimidate them like this?”
Veins bulging in her neck, she started screaming at the top of her lungs, as if lashing out.
There’s a saying that a loud voice wins, but this was too loud.
“We have a duty to protect our artists, so after we confirm her wishes—”
“Artists my ass! I’m her birth mother! Cut the crap and bring me Lee Hyoeun right now!”
At the unspeakable rampage, Woohyun muttered under his breath, “S-sh*t…”
Rrrrk, rrrrk—
Hearing a strange scraping sound, he turned his head to see Hyunseung scratching the back of his head (the helmet).
Rrrrk, rrrrk—
With the helmet on, he couldn’t tell what expression he was making.
“You lot like the law, right? I’m calling the cops too. Just you wait!”
Brandishing a threat, the woman pulled out her phone.
Whoosh.
Quick as a flash, Hyunseung snatched the phone and held it high above his head.
“Hey, that’s theft! Theft!”
She stretched her hand up to seize it back, but compared to Hyunseung’s height, she fell far short—futile.
“Ajumma.”
“What? Ajumma?”
“You are an ajumma.”
Then Hyunseung added, his voice low and leveled,
“Ajumma, what makes you so confident?”
“What?”
“Lee Hyoeun felt guilty even toward someone like you.”
In that flat voice, a deadly chill seeped out as he ground down her spirit step by step.
The helmeted head tilted very slowly, canting to one side.
“No, it’s just… I really don’t understand, okay?”
His tone lifted at the end as if he were truly curious, yet there was something overbearing about it.
“So how about answering properly?”
Imagining what expression Hyunseung must be wearing, Woohyun felt a chill run down his spine.
But one thing was certain…
“W-W-What?” … that handling a crazy b*tch takes a nutcase.
“Why is it that while some parents are always sorry toward their children, and others become the bad guy in order to protect them. You, ajumma, can be not just brazen but downright proud of it?”
And another thing certain was that right now, Hyunseung was very, very angry.
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