David Austin received an unexpected message from Vincent Mah asking to visit the CEO’s office.
Although he was an artist under the label, their schedules were both so busy that, aside from major meetings or contract discussions, they rarely met face to face.
‘What is this about?’
Austin wiped down every inch of the sofa armrest where he sat, spinning through several guesses.
Could it be…?
Is he trying to transfer to another company? Or a complaint about contract terms?
No way.
There is no agency better than the global Unice Group.
Even if someone offered to set up a one-man label just for Vincent, they still could not satisfy him better than Unis in terms of contract conditions.
Then what?
Dating? Marriage? Or could he possibly have caused some incident?
As guesses swirled, Vincent arrived outside the office and knocked.
Knock, knock, knock!
Austin cleared his throat and called out for him to enter.
“Come in.”
Soon the office door opened, and a somewhat agitated Vincent strode quickly toward him.
Austin wanted to ask immediately why Vincent had come, but first told him to take a seat.
“I have prepared a warm tea that is good for the throat, so let us drink slowly and talk.”
But unlike Austin, who meant to speak calmly, Vincent opened his mouth the moment he sat on the edge of the sofa.
“Could I have the contact information for someone named HS?”
He was perched on the very end of the cushion, looking like he might spring up and run out at any moment.
“HS?”
“Yes.”
Austin could more or less guess why. Probably because of Sarah Stewart’s title track.
Sarah Stewart, who had declared she would never accept another composer’s song, had openly revealed she sang another person’s piece, so he must be curious.
Besides, since Sarah Stewart’s debut they had been rivals for the top spot on the Billboard chart.
Of course, from Austin’s position as the producer of both, it was preferable that the two not get along.
Right. Just as Vincent, already seated at the summit of pop music, was beginning to grow complacent, Sarah’s appearance had made him tense again.
Ah. And Sarah Stewart, for all her show of indifference, also seemed to be keeping an eye on Vincent Mah.
“Why do you want his contact information?”
Austin looked Vincent up and down as he fidgeted.
But what came out of Vincent’s mouth was a little different from what Austin had expected.
“He told me to contact him through you.”
Was Vincent looking for HS, or was HS looking for Vincent?
Well. For someone of Vincent’s level, any composer in the world would covet him. He was the kind of artist who carried epithets like “unruffled since debut,” “the emperor of Billboard,” “a voice given by God,” “a singer who made a deal with the devil.”
Even so, Austin could not readily hand over HS’s contact.
If HS truly wanted Vincent Mah, would he not have sent an official letter through the company?
And if that was too much trouble, he could at least have asked Austin separately.
Ah, of course, if it were Vincent…
Assuming he did not know Sarah Stewart had sung HS’s song, he would likely have refused to even listen to a composer not yet known in the United States.
“I will be the one to reach out.”
At Austin’s answer, Vincent looked surprised and asked again.
“Why? If you would just give me his contact…”
“No. I will contact him myself, and if it seems fine, I will pass it on to you then.”
Vincent opened and closed his lips without finding words.
No wonder.
It was surprising enough that Austin, the marquee name of Unice Music Group, would personally reach out; moreover, for a star like him to ask for a composer’s contact should be a cause for celebration on the composer’s side.
Yet here it was the opposite: Austin was saying he would ask the composer’s permission before sharing the contact, as if the positions were reversed.
‘The world has definitely gone crazy.’
Vincent’s pride took a deep crack, but he could not really object.
Austin might act like a crazy eccentric when it came to music, but he was still the head of a global distributor and major label.
In other words…
From a business standpoint, he was a man who would favor those who were advantageous to him. An operator.
If someone like Austin was acting this way toward him, then clearly this “HS” was someone who, when run through the calculator, came out as considerably beneficial.
At that moment, Austin broke the silence first.
“Well then, you may head out.”
By now, something like a stubborn streak was bubbling up inside Vincent. A desire to make this HS person anxious for him.
“Wait a moment.”
Vincent raised a hand lightly and added,
“Please pass this along as well. Tell him that although he failed to meet the terms of the bet, I am willing to propose a different wager, as a special exception.”
Then he hurried out of the office.
After a moment. Austin looked at the firmly closed door and let out a long murmur.
“Hmm…”
He was extremely curious about the contents of the bet that had passed between them.
Kim Woohyun and Hyunseung went to a traditional set-menu restaurant for the first time in a while.
“Ah, I am stuffed.”
Even when they had finished with sujeonggwa (cinnamon punch) for a palate cleanser, Woohyun still had his phone in hand.
“You are practically about to climb into that phone.”
Despite Hyunseung’s teasing tone, the smile on Woohyun’s lips did not fade.
“It is not that. It is just amazing to me that your song is getting popular overseas too.”
As Woohyun said, “Look at me,” which Hyunseung had composed, not only charted on Billboard, but many pop stars were uploading cover videos of it.
And that was not all.
“Black angel,” which Hyunseung had arranged, had reached number one on Billboard despite being only a B-side.
However.
The person himself, Hyunseung, was not happy.
Right. No matter how many times “Black angel” hit number one, it meant nothing if the song he had directly composed, “Look at me,” was not number one.
“Your fans say that going overseas is fine later, but please at least do a fan-sign before you go.”
Woohyun had not noticed how bad Hyunseung’s mood was. Normally, even about his own affairs, Hyunseung carried himself as if they were someone else’s business.
Woohyun assumed it was the same this time and chattered on excitedly.
“Should you not hold a fan-sign sometime soon? If you really start overseas activities in earnest…”
“Division Head.”
“Huh?”
“Drink your sujeonggwa before it gets warm.”
Woohyun looked down at the cup. This was a cold sujeonggwa—what was supposed to get warm?
“Geumdong, are you sick?”
“If you are finished, let us get going.”
Hyunseung stood up silently. The reason “Look at me” was not number one on Billboard was entirely because of his own ability.
Still, maybe he would throw a little tantrum.
“I am feeling down, so Mom, please pick up the bill.”
“Huh?”
“I really am so down today.”
At Hyunseung’s brazen request to pay, Woohyun found himself practically dragged to the register. If he had known, he would have suggested the company cafeteria…
‘The response really is strong.’
While he watched Woohyun looking flustered from behind and tried to hide his smile, Hyunseung’s phone began to chime repeatedly in his pocket.
Ding! Ding!
“Hm?”
He checked the sender on the screen and raised his eyebrows.
[ New messages from Mr. Alcohol Addict +2 ]
It was none other than Austin.
When they first met, he had smelled like the kind of man who would not leave a single germ alive. Since he sprayed alcohol on the sofa before sitting down and seemed to use a handkerchief soaked in alcohol, Hyunseung had saved him as “Alcohol Addict.”
Sliiide—
Hyunseung quickly drew his pattern and checked the contents.
[ Do you have a moment for a call? ]
He tilted his head at the first message.
[ This concerns Vincent Mah. I have something to tell you, so please call when convenient. ]
By the time he read the second, a smile slowly spread across his lips.
Then holding out a card over Woohyun’s shoulder, Hyunseung spoke.
“My mood just improved. Use this to pay.”
After the meal, Hyunseung returned straight to the studio to speak with Austin.
Woohyun…
Went out to the cafe terrace to buy coffee for after the meal.
Left alone, Hyunseung immediately placed an international call to Austin.
Soon a measured voice came through the receiver.
“I know you are busy, so I will keep it brief.”
As expected, he was a man to Hyunseung’s liking.
“Did you tell Vincent Mah to contact you through me?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Today, Vincent asked me for your contact information.”
Silently, where he could not be heard, Hyunseung formed an “Oh” with his lips.
He had more or less guessed from the text, but still…Vincent, with that lofty nose in the air? He had not even done one month straight at number one on Billboard yet, much less three.
However the question did not last long.
“He also said to tell you that even though you did not meet the conditions of the bet, he is willing to propose a different wager.”
Of course.
Some things never change, even from the previous life.
“Shall I tell Vincent to contact you directly?”
“One moment. Did you give him my number?”
“Not yet.”
“Then could you relay a message from me instead?”
Right.
This lifetime, he would either snap that sky-high nose of Vincent’s or something close.
“Tell him if he keeps acting tough, I will not accept any proposal.”
There was a heavy silence on the other end for a beat.
“All right, I will do that.”
With that brief reply, the call ended.
“Ah, damn…”
Looking at the blacked-out screen, Hyunseung regretted it.
I should have asked him to find out how much he lifts on the big three.
When our shoulders bumped last time, he felt like he lifts a little.
Knock, knock, knock!
Just then, Woohyun returned with the coffee.
“How long do I have to keep being your coffee errand boy?”
“Given how things are, how about you retire and become my road manager?”
“Will you pay me more than a division head’s salary?”
“The job is nothing but coffee and snack delivery. Asking for that kind of salary would be shameless, do you not think?”
As Hyunseung traded silly jokes with Woohyun and gulped coffee,
“The Red Thread coordinator was looking for you.”
At those words, Hyunseung choked and sprayed coffee everywhere.
“Khmm, ahem, who?”
Seeing that, Woohyun fetched wet wipes and began to dab at his clothes.
“Why are you so startled?”
“When was I?”
“Anyway, you did not forget you promised to meet the Red Thread drama coordinator, right?”
“Was it a woman?”
“Yeah, quite pretty, actually.”
For a moment, Hyunseung’s ears perked up, but he calmed himself again.
Right.
No matter how pretty, she was exactly the noisy, hectic type he hated. And her voice had no value as an instrument.
“Do not tell me you told her to wait.”
“Do you think I do not know you? Of course not. She was pleading with security to let her see you just once, so I told her to go back and we would call after checking.”
Hyunseung let out a sigh of relief and pressed a hand to his chest.
“I knew she was intense, but I did not expect her to show up in person after I blocked her number.”
“Oh, that happened? Why is she so set on finding you?”
“No idea. My guess is the higher-ups are pushing her to set up a meal with me. I actually feel a bit sorry for her, but anyway she is relentless.”
“No wonder there was madness in her eyes. She looked ready to camp here until she saw you.”
Hyunseung flinched and asked again.
“She did go back, right?”
A nameless sense of foreboding crept over him. What if she lies down and waits for days?
Ah.
With that woman, who knows?
“I told her firmly enough. She should have gone.”
Before Woohyun even finished, Hyunseung grabbed his helmet.
“Where are you going all of a sudden?”
“To check.”
“And if she did not go?”
“I will tell her to.”
Woohyun followed him out, trying to dissuade him.
“What if she latches on and makes trouble for you?”
“Before she keeps pestering me, it might be best to say it clearly to her face.”
This time, Hyunseung intended to make it clear to the broadcaster through her.
Never again.
HS would not do OST work.
.
.
.
He fully meant to deliver that message firmly, but…
The moment he turned the corner into the lobby, he regretted it.
In the distance…
The closer he drew to a very familiar voice, the more clearly he saw a face he knew all too well.
“Please, just once! Just! One! Time! Could you pass it along? I will sit quietly and wait!”
Right.
A face from so long ago that it had been erased to the back of his memory.
T/N: The “Alcohol Addict” nickname for Austin can confuse people. Think in terms of rubbing alcohol/hand sanitizer type. Austin is a germaphobe, I guess.
Also what’s this cliffhanger about a pretty woman who’s not instrument worthy??
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