Standing in front of LS Entertainment’s headquarters, Lee Hyoeun felt a peculiar lift.
Probably…
It was a feeling spun out of belonging.
Honestly, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt she belonged somewhere.
Back in school at least, taking on club roles or serving as class president had let her feel that sense of belonging… and that she was alive.
But once she entered the world, making a living was so daunting that, rather than feeling attached to anything, she lived with her focus fixed only on earning money.
Because of that, her emotions now could only surge all the more fiercely.
During the first OST recording, embarrassing as it is to admit, she’d been a little more focused on the fact that she was recording Hyunseung’s song, with Hyunseung.
Above all, compared to the singers who’d already passed through Hyunseung’s hands, her own skill was sorely lacking, so she spent time worrying they might call off the exclusive contract they’d talked about.
But now, she was inarguably an LS Entertainment artist… and hadn’t Hyunseung made her a debut song himself?
“Instead, tell me your story.”
A song filled with her story and feelings—things no one had cared about, things she’d have preferred no one knew.
“You’ve never told anyone this stuff, have you?”
“No…”
“Then how about telling your story in a song?”
She was about to sing it herself.
Step, step.
She was passing through the lobby, vowing to do well, when—
“Ms. Lee Hyoeun?”
The security guard manning the gate quietly called her name.
“You’re Ms. Lee Hyoeun, right?”
Figuring she wasn’t a familiar face and he was asking for security’s sake, Hyoeun smiled first and greeted him.
“Yes! I look forward to working with you.”
But…
“Ah, yes…”
the guard’s response was distinctly lukewarm.
No. He looked more like someone who had something to say.
And when she was curious, she couldn’t just let it go.
“Do you perhaps have something you want to say to me…?”
Hyoeun stepped closer and asked carefully.
“N-no. It’s not that, it’s just…”
Flustered, the guard’s eyes darted here and there and his words trailed off.
Only for a moment, though.
“I was wondering if things with your mother got resolved amicably…”
“Pardon…?”
“Ah—did you maybe not get a call from the company about it?”
With her trembling chin tucked in, she barely managed a nod.
Why on earth had the word “mother” just come out of a security guard’s mouth?
Don’t tell me…
Had her mother come here? No, no.
How would she even know to look here?
Sure, the drama Red Thread whose OST she’d sung was doing well, but her mother drank every day and hardly watched TV.
And the most talked-about OST was the main theme “Only After the Flowers have Faded,” sung by Hyunseung; the OST Hyoeun sang hadn’t drawn major attention yet.
Right.
He must be confusing her with someone else.
Look. Even the guard had that “oops” look on his face.
“Maybe you’ve mixed me up with someone?”
Hyoeun forced a smile and added,
“I don’t have a mother.”
With that, she all but ran through the gates and bolted up to the studio.
Because if… if something really had happened, it might mean she was causing trouble for Hyunseung again.
Inside the reserved studio.
After telling her to wait, Hyunseung kept his headset on and stayed buried in work.
Had something happened?
She studied his face for signs, but it was as calm as if nothing at all were wrong.
Right.
The guard must have been mistaken.
Forget about Mom.
Steeling herself, Hyoeun clenched her fist.
Tight.
Today was the day she would record her debut song.
Tap—!
With a forceful hit to the space bar, Hyunseung swiveled his chair to face her and met her eyes.
“Did you practice a lot?”
“Yeah!”
“And the homework I gave you?”
“I did it, but…”
She let her words trail off, checked his face, and added,
“I don’t know if it’s any good.”
“Let’s see.”
“Mm, I wrote it down and brought it.”
Taking the A4 sheet she’d brought, Hyunseung straightened his posture.
Gulp.
Just seeing him get set to read seriously sent a wave of nerves through her.
Understandably so. The homework he’d given was to write the lyrics for her debut song herself.
In other words… her lyrics might actually end up in the song.
Granted, he’d warned her that if the lyrics weren’t good, he’d toss them without hesitation.
But still—you never knew.
“Is… is it okay?”
Watching his rather grave expression, she asked cautiously.
But Hyunseung just hummed under his breath and stared at the paper for a long time.
“Mmm.”
He didn’t say anything.
So her lyrics really weren’t any good, then?
She figured.
She’d never had a knack for writing, so it was unlikely she’d be good at writing lyrics.
I did pour my heart into it for a few days, though…
Just as her shoulders sagged and she started letting go of hope—
“Not bad.”
At last, his mouth opened.
“Not all of it. Some.”
“R-really?”
“Mm. You wrote it in a way that’s you.”
“In a way that’s me?”
“Yeah. The busybody really comes through.”
Before she could say, What do you mean by that? he went on:
“If I mix this with what I wrote, I think it’ll work. Give me a minute.”
With that, he turned back to the console and started jotting on the A4.
Sccccritch, sccccritch—
He drew lines through parts of her lyric and filled tiny handwriting beneath them.
Ah.
So Hyunseung’s handwriting isn’t great.
“Pfft.”
Peeking at it, the thought just popped out, and a small laugh slipped free.
“What are you laughing at?”
He set the pen down and asked.
“Huh? N-no, nothing.”
“Feather-brained.”
Then he handed the A4 back to her.
“Okay, five minutes from now.”
“Huh? For what?”
“You need to memorize the lyrics if we’re going to record.”
“Can’t I do it while looking at the sheet?”
At that, he bit his lower lip and shot back,
“Ahem. And you are… what, again?”
She tilted her head for a second, then, as if accepting her fate, answered plaintively,
“A… potato.”
Right.
She’d agreed to be a Potato.
“Exactly. Can a potato think or ask questions?”
“No…”
“Good. Singing Potato No. 1—memorize.”
Before she knew it, any clammy feelings about her mother were completely gone, and she was cramming the lyrics like a student the night before an exam.
Before the five minutes were even up, the studio got noisy.
“Potato, long time no see?”
“Oh, Potato!”
“Hey, you don’t call a lady ‘Potato.’”
The engineers had trooped in.
They seemed to be on pretty friendly terms with Hyunseung; they came in and, as if it were natural, each took a seat, ogled the workflow, and chatted him up.
Of course, Hyunseung looked put out, but…
“We’re about to start recording, so if you want to shoot the breeze, please step outside.”
Polite, but firm.
All at once, the engineers clammed up.
Apparently, no one wanted to leave.
“Potato, c’mon.”
Hyunseung crooked a finger at her.
“Okay!”
“Then before you go in, how about a nice, energetic three cheers for ‘Singing Potato’?”
“H-here?”
“Mm. Or do you want to go do it out in the lobby? That works too.”
Glancing around, Hyoeun asked again,
“W-we have to do it now, right?”
“Or shall we put the recording off till later?”
“N-no! That’s not it…”
It would be one thing if it were just the two of them, but the engineers were here…
This is so embarrassing.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she threw both hands up and shouted, “Hooray for Singing Potato!” three times.
When she cautiously opened her eyes—
“Huh?”
Hyunseung and the engineers had all turned their backs and were settled in, ready to work.
“What are you doing? Not going to record?”
For some reason, she felt very much like she’d just been had by Hyunseung.
Flustered, Hyoeun forgot one thing for a moment.
Right.
Once you step into this booth, getting out isn’t easy.
Sssslide.
The moment Hyunseung said to take a break, she slumped to the floor with her back against the booth wall.
Right now, she wanted to open that door and collapse onto the soft couch, but she didn’t have the strength left.
“Not coming out?”
His voice came through the speakers, but she waved her hands, saying she wouldn’t.
Through the booth window, Hyunseung’s face somehow looked perfectly fine.
Positively handsome, practically gleaming.
Is he even…
human?
While she was wrapped in a strange awe—
“Wow, she’s the real deal. I mean, the Potato.”
“As expected, the Singing Potato.”
“So that’s the power of the triple ‘hooray’?”
Compliments on Hyoeun were pouring out of the engineers.
Of course, the talkback was off, so she couldn’t hear a word.
“Mmm…”
Even at their praise, Hyunseung frowned, clearly unsatisfied.
Then one of the engineers, Ki Yeonseon, glanced at him and asked quietly,
“Isn’t this good enough?”
Sharpening his gaze, Hyunseung shot back,
“Since when have I started okaying ‘good enough’?”
“N-no, I only meant, she was a civilian not long ago, and by any measure this is plenty good, so…”
Rattled by the edge in his tone, Ki started babbling.
“Civilian or former trainee, if you’ve come in here, you’re an artist all the same. What does that matter?”
“T-that’s true.”
“More importantly, she hasn’t poured it all out yet.”
He jerked his chin toward the booth, where Hyoeun was sprawled like a piece of luggage, and continued,
“If this were a song I’d written for her to sing, I might call this level satisfactory.”
Then, in a grave tone, he added,
“But the lyrics of this song are her story. If there’s no sincerity in my story, who’s going to listen?”
Listening in silence, Ki ventured carefully,
“Then… how about talking with her about that?”
But Hyunseung shook his head hard.
“Sincerity isn’t something you can force out just by asking for it.”
Hyoeun came back into his line of sight. When their eyes met, she forced a bright little smile and waved.
That busybody.
She was so good at meddling, but when it came to telling her own story, to taking care of herself, she looked clumsy.
He’d told her to bring lyrics, and—true to form—she’d brought busybody work.
Right.
Asked to tell her story, she’d written words to others—to people living with a heart and circumstances like her own—telling them it’s okay, it will get better.
Granted, Hyunseung himself wasn’t exactly deft at talking about what was inside him.
But he hadn’t neglected himself while looking after others.
That idiot.
Withdrawing his gaze, he said softly,
“We wait until she can open up on her own.”
And then,
“Lee Hyoeun, we’re going again. Up you go.”
The recording, paused for a moment, resumed, and as Ki looked back and forth between Hyunseung and Hyoeun, he thought:
This track… something serious is going to come out of it.
Of course, everything forged by HS’s fingertips always was.
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