The Producer Who Draws Stars

Psychological Warfare (3)

Chapter 19: Psychological Warfare (3)

 

12:20 PM.  

Yoo Ah-ra’s temporary manager, Kim Hyun-seok, parked the car in front of Director Yoon Seong-han’s studio. In the rearview mirror, he could see that Yoo Ah-ra had fallen fast asleep.  

The manager spoke up.  

“Ah-ra-ssi, we’ve arrived.”  

Yoo Ah-ra’s eyes slowly fluttered open. She puffed her cheeks and yawned widely.  

Yawning without opening her mouth—that was the first skill she learned after becoming a celebrity.  

“Hmm.”  

She wiped away a bit of drool and stretched.  

“Ah, I wonder how many hours it will take.”  

It was more of a rhetorical question.  

“I’m not sure about that either… Would you like to go in first? I need to handle the schedule for the ladies’ group, but I’ll be back once I’m done.”  

“Okay, that sounds good.”  

Yoo Ah-ra got out of the car first. The van drove off somewhere, and Yoo Ah-ra stood in front of the studio, pressing the doorbell with her forehead. Her arms were full of gifts, making it hard to manage.  

Ding-dong.  

After a short wait, Director Yoon Seong-han’s son, Yoon Woo-in, opened the door to greet her.  

“Oh. Hello.”  

“Hi! I’m Yoo Ara. I felt awkward and didn’t want to come empty-handed, so…”  

Yoon Woo-in smiled as he accepted the gifts.  

“Thank you. Please come in.”  

“Yes!”  

Yoo Ah-ra silently followed Yoon Woo-in.  

“Oh, you’re here.”  

As they hurried down the corridor, Yoo Ah-ra arrived at the recording studio and saw a man whose appearance seemed even worse than yesterday. His eyes were bloodshot.  

“You’re a little late, aren’t you?”

It was Heli.  

For a moment, Yoo Ah-ra felt her mind go blank.  

 


 

I didn’t have much pressure in terms of vocal directing. Although I provided the song, the directing was primarily the responsibility of the music director, Yoon Seong-han, while I was merely an assistant.  

However, Director Yoon had given me the opportunity, insisting that I would know my own songs best.  

And now, I was fully embracing that authority.  

“Again.”  

Inside the booth, Yoo Ah-ra glared at me as she asked.  

-…Why again?  

“Get rid of the kuse 1(“쿠세” (kuse) is a slang term in Korean, often referring to undesirable habits or quirks in behavior, usually related to how someone speaks, sings, or acts). Why do you keep… Never mind. Haah. Just do it again. Stop trying to show off, just sing it as it is.”

Yoo Ah-ra gritted her teeth without responding. She was probably frustrated. After all, they had only recorded three lines, and it had already taken over an hour.  

But there was nothing I could do. If the desired color doesn’t come out and she was struggling to get it right, how could I just let it slide?  

-Hufft, I’m going again.  

“…Suit yourself.”  

Director Yoon Seong-han, who had been quietly observing the situation, smirked and added something.  

“This is going to take quite a while.”  

“Oh, I’m sorry, I….”  

“No, I understand. Right now, Yoo Ah-ra-ssi definitely seems to be off. I don’t think she used to be like this.”  

Director Yoon Seong-han’s agreement was very reassuring.  

“By the way, that comment about how Yoo Ah-ra’s voice suits this song—I can see it a little better now that I’m hearing it.”  

“…Cough. Thank you.”  

While I was feeling unnecessarily moved by the director’s understanding, Yoo Ah-ra suddenly launched into the song.  

– As the wind blows, the approaching morning sunlight…  

This was just the beginning.  

Four hours had passed since then. 

 


  

Yoo Ah-ra rubbed her throat. It felt tight, and it seemed slightly swollen. As she touched it, anger suddenly surged within her.  

“Ugh, seriously!”  

She imagined throwing her headset off countless times. But she couldn’t do that. It was one thing if it was just Heli, but Director Yoon Seong-han was right next to him.  

If she misbehaved and damaged her relationship with the music director, it could inadvertently affect the drama.  

Even as she struggled to suppress her frustration, Heli’s voice came through the headset.  

– Let’s try again… No, wait.  

Five hours had already passed. They had sung the same lines hundreds of times. They hadn’t even gotten anywhere near the chorus. Five hours—five whole hours!  

– It might be better to take a break today. Are you upset, Ah-ra-ssi?  

What kind of comment is that? I feel like I’m about to burst into anger.  

“What if I am?”  

– That’s why your voice keeps getting strained. It’s a vicious cycle.  

“……”

Yoo Ah-ra let out a deep sigh, trying to calm her boiling frustration.  

“Then, let’s take a short break and try again…”  

– No. Let’s just call it a day. We’ve already spent five hours, and all we’ve gotten is the first five lines. 

Her insides boiled over again, this time erupting like a volcano. For a moment, her head spun, and she felt as though the thread of reason might snap at any moment.  

Yoo Ah-ra trembled, clenching her fists tightly.  

What on earth went wrong? This was nothing but a retaliation for yesterday. A payback, indeed. That pathetic pig of a guy!  

But right now, all she could do was swallow her boiling anger. Yoo Ah-ra fought to hold back her temper, and somehow, amid her turmoil, she felt a slight sense of pride in her restraint.  

– You can come out now. I’m sorry too. It’s just that the results aren’t what I envisioned, and I couldn’t help it.  

What insincere words! What a lie!

Yoo Ah-ra flung the booth door open and stepped outside.  

Still with her fists clenched and lips tightly sealed, she glared at Heli. Sparks seemed to fly from her eyes.  

But she couldn’t bring herself to unleash the curse words that danced on the tip of her tongue, redirecting her gaze toward Director Yoon Seong-han. She bowed her head slightly.  

“I think I’ll take my leave now. When can I come back?”  

“Hmm…”  

Director Yoon Seong-han looked at Heli. Once again, Yoo Ah-ra felt irritation bubbling inside her. If only it were Director Yoon Seong-han directing, she wouldn’t be so angry. Why did that damn glutton keep getting involved?  

“Since the song is finished, we have ample time for recording. What’s important now is the filming issue. It seems Ah-ra-ssi still has some deficiencies, so let’s prioritize the drama filming first, and we can schedule the recording with Heli separately afterward.”  

“That sounds like a good idea.”  

Heli grinned, flashing his teeth. Yoo Ah-ra’s face flushed red. She couldn’t comprehend it.  

What on earth does he mean by ‘deficiencies’? Is the music director in cahoots with that thug?

She gasped for breath and then finally screamed at the top of her lungs. 

“Fine!”  

Without hesitation, she turned and dashed out of the room.  

As soon as she stepped outside the studio, a cold wind wrapped around her. It was then that Yoo Ah-ra realized she had left her coat inside. But she felt hot—so hot that she couldn’t bear it without calling someone.  

– Hello…  

“Team Leader-nim! I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want that Heli!”  

The moment she opened her mouth, her voice burst out like fire. In contrast, Team Leader Lee Ha-yeon’s tone remained calm and composed.  

– But that’s already been decided. Why are you saying this again?

“Has it? Then just cut him off. Cut him off completely! Cut him off”  

– Ah-ra-ya, this is problematic…  

“No! I can’t do it! I can’t! I’m going insane!”  

Yoo Ah-ra stomped her feet as she yelled.  

– Just wait for a bit. I’ll talk to Heli and get back to you…  

Team Leader Lee Ha-yeon’s calm and collected response only added to Yoo Ah-ra’s frustration. 

 


 

Two days later, I stood once again in front of Lilac’s studio room.  

For some reason, the words I heard from the team leader yesterday made me more nervous than during our first meeting.  

My fate hinged on the quality of the song I would present today. Fortunately, after two days of refining my work, I felt confident…  

Hoo. Huu. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door.  

Three people were inside. First, Yoo Ah-ra’s cold gaze locked onto me.  

“Hello.”  

I greeted them as if nothing had happened and took a seat at the synthesizer.  

Yoo Ah-ra remained silent, while the other two seemed hesitant to even meet my gaze.  

“Well, I’ve brought a song. It’s catchy but not overly cheerful. It’s still a work in progress, though.”  

I spoke casually as I pulled out my USB drive. All three pairs of eyes turned to it.  

“I created it considering the strengths of each of you.”  

Kim Yoo-jeong’s pink voice is lovely, vivid enough to stand out no matter where it is placed.  

Lee Yeon-ji’s deep red timbre is solid and intense. It’s style that is more leading rather than following the rhythm. She possesses the explosive power of a true power vocalist, making her a perfect fit for dance or R&B tracks.  

And lastly, there’s Yoo Ah-ra.  

For her, the most fitting description would probably be ‘pure’. She has a clear, delicate white tone. While she can easily be overshadowed by other colors, when she shines, there’s no hue more dazzling and ethereal.  

The song I crafted, taking into account the nuances of these three colors, is tentatively titled ‘IdoL’.  

It’s neither a dance pop song nor a soft ballad, R&B, or rock. It’s simply a popular pop song.  

It’s lively without being loud, cheerful yet tinged with subtle sadness. The theme revolves around the life of an idol, which is envied by many, yet hidden beneath the glamor are struggles and loneliness.  

“If you have a good understanding of yourself, you might get a hint of your parts in this song.”  

Yet, there was no reaction.  

In the midst of that silence, I spoke. 

“Would you like to give it a listen?”  

“Let’s hear it.”  

At that moment, Yoo Ah-ra jumped to her feet. Perhaps eager to see just how well I had crafted it, she hastily grabbed the headset. Then, in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, she muttered. 

“I bet it’ll be awful.”  

I couldn’t help but chuckle and played the song.

Through the speakers instead of the headset.

“Damn it.”  

Yoo Ah-ra frowned as she took off her headset.  

The first instrumental of the song filled the room through the speakers.  

The imagery of this song is that of a beautifully dressed woman with sorrowful eyes.  

Though the colors are unfinished and the guide vocal is a bit clumsy since it was written for a trainee, I can take pride in the melody line.  

Unlike my previous OST ‘Mountain Scenery’, this song has a distinctly more popular color, making it compatible not only with Lilac but also with other girl groups.  

So, if I were to get cut today, I wouldn’t be too disappointed. After all, this song belongs to me.  

– People say I shine under the dazzling lights.  

The tempo is medium—not too fast or too slow. Each member of Lilac perks up their ears to listen.  

As time passes, their expressions gradually brighten.  

Perhaps they, too, feel it—this song is perfectly suited for them.  

Before long, the song reached its most crucial chorus.  

– …They say I’m loved and know no sorrow. They say I’m beautiful enough to be without tears.  

– I must always smile. I must never know loneliness.  

– But why… does my heart feel so lonely?  

I paused the song just as the chorus finished.  

An instant of silence enveloped the studio.  

All three stared at me in shock, their eyes sparkling. Thankfully, their reactions were positive.  

I first turned to Yoo Ah-ra, who had been in conflict with me.  

“What do you think?”  

Her clear gaze met mine. Seeing her wide-open eyes, it seemed this song struck a chord with her, unlike ‘Mountain Scenery’.  

Yoo Ah-ra spoke slowly.  

“…Is this ours?”  

Hmm, no, that’s not quite right.  

I shook my head.  

“No, it’s mine.”  

Yoo Ah-ra’s face momentarily went blank.  

She seemed to struggle to understand my words, so I added with a smile. 

“I had a brief conversation with the team leader yesterday. You probably know best what that was about.”  

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