Chapter 5: Hitting the Pavement (3)
My shelves were not filled with books but with trophies. I was a promising young artist. By the time I was about to graduate from elementary school, I had received interview requests from broadcasters, and I was already planning to study abroad before even entering middle school.
Naturally, people were drawn to me without any effort on my part.
At that age, I was too immature to think far ahead. On top of that, I was constantly told that I was good-looking, and I was taller than average, so I lived in a bubble of self-importance.
However, all that pretense and vanity were shattered in an unexpected moment due to a mistake I made that still pains me to remember. It was through my own fault that I realized what kind of person I truly was.
Drunk with my mere drawing skills and trapped by my shallow pride, I neglected what I should have cherished the most.
I had foolishly believed myself into thinking that I had grown and developed solely on my own, that I was a unique genius who would eventually achieve self-completion.
Once the fog of my narrow mindedness lifted, I could not even bring myself to pick up a brush. Art had confined me to a place I didn’t belong, so I had to run away from art myself.
And so, I gave up art and went to a regular academic high school.
It was at this regular high school that I met Jung Ha-yeon.
Perhaps the only time a common person can forge a connection with a top star is during those school days, where judgments are made without calculating real-world situations, where loved and hated are based on simpler, more naive criteria… It was during this time that I met her.
At first, I couldn’t adapt to school life. I had no idea what to do with myself other than art.
But the teachers acted as if they knew exactly what I should be doing.
They pushed me to pick up a brush again. I had decent grades and outstanding practical skills. I was the ideal student Seoul National University desired—or more accurately, the type of student high school teachers dreamed of.
I pretended to be indifferent at their sly suggestions to participate in school and external competitions. I didn’t resist. I didn’t have the energy to fight back, so I simply went along with it.
I ended up winning the grand prize at the citywide art competition I had previously dismissed as beneath me. I felt guilty about snatching the top prize from the school’s art club student who I considered inferior. I also managed to get a mediocre 10th place in the school ranking.
The teachers still praised me as a genius, but back then, I wasn’t truly engaging with art. I wasn’t investing myself in it.
Art had been demoted from being ‘everything to me’ to merely a tool to get into college.
And so, I lived a meaningless and monotonous life.
Then everything changed abruptly when Jung Ha-yeon appeared.
I still remember the ridiculous thing she said when she approached and suggested that I join the music club during club recruitment season.
– All art forms are interconnected. You’re good at art, then you’ll be good at music too!
My response was somewhat cynical.
– Yeah, right.
I scoffed and looked away, dismissing her claims without any further thought.
But it wasn’t long before I went looking for her again. The reason for that was…
Beep beep beep- Beep beep beep-
“…”
The alarm jolted me back from my distant memories.
I groggily opened my eyes and looked at my phone. It was 7:30 PM. I must have napped for three hours, likely because of thoughts about Jung Ha-yeon.
“Oh, right.”
I had something to do today. Groaning, I got up, stretching my arms and legs.
First… I needed to freshen up and clear my mind.
I headed to the bathroom and turned on the cold water.
Swoosh
As I douse myself with cold water, I revisit the information I had gathered about Yoon Hyeok-pil, just in case.
Yoon Hyeok-pil was a singer who rose to fame through an audition program. You could say he had been a bit unlucky. He was a talented singer who even won the top prize on NBC’s ‘Birth of a Singer’, but the program itself was so unpopular that he didn’t receive much attention.
He floated under the radar until he managed to join the relatively well-known ‘Letter Entertainment’ agency in the entertainment industry, a connection facilitated by the fact that the company’s CEO had been a judge on ‘Birth of a Singer’. He released an album and appeared on a few variety shows with the backing of his agency, but unfortunately, the response to his appearances was poor and his album flopped.
And so, a year passed…
There was no further information available after that.
I didn’t know either. Searching on Naver yielded no results. When there’s no information on the major portals, it typically means he failed.
Therefore, his appearance on ‘Singing Through the Times’, a reasonably popular weekday variety show, was nothing short of a miracle.
Yet, desperation that comes with this being his last chance doesn’t always translate into positive outcomes. His single performance on stage was objectively deserving of last place.
The arrangement didn’t suit him, and most importantly, you could sense his uncertainty about how to sing the song even as he performed it.
After such a hesitant performance, it was inevitable that he would come in last place.
Officially, the votes for the losing contestant are not disclosed, but it was obvious. He probably didn’t even get 100 votes.
But.
To me, he is an invaluable client.
“Phew.”
Shower done.
I roughly dried my hair, got dressed, and left the studio.
“Let’s go.”
Hyeok-pil-ah, or rather Hyeok-pil-ssi, or should I say Hyeok-pil-nim?
I’m coming to meet you.
Back in front of Ilsan NBC. At 9 PM, the audience started to exit.
But no matter how long I waited, Yoon Hyeok-pil was nowhere to be seen.
Why? I tapped my foot anxiously, it was past 10 PM before I finally saw his silhouette emerging from the entrance.
His shoulders were hunched over in a way that was a clear sign—he must have lost again today.
Taking a deep breath, I decided to approach him.
Holding the CD in my hand, I cautiously approached Yoon Hyeok-pil from behind.
“Excuse me?”
“Aargh!”
As soon as I touched his shoulder, Yoon Hyeok-pil let out a startled cry and jumped back about 5 meters.
“Whoa! Who… Who are you!?”
He shouted loudly and clutched his chest, his face flushed with surprise.
I felt a bit guilty.
I scratched the back of my neck and extended my hand.
“I’m sorry about that. Are you Yoon Hyeok-pil-ssi?”
Yoon Hyeok-pil looked me up and down with a puzzled expression before answering.
“…Yes. But what’s this about?”
For now, I decided to act like a fan.
“Well, I’m actually a big fan of yours. Hyeok-pil-ssi and I’ve been waiting here to meet you. I really enjoy your music. By the way, my favorite song is ‘Sad Song’.”
As soon as I mentioned the song title, Yoon Hyeok-pil’s expression brightened.
“Ahaha… Thank you.”
He smiled awkwardly, seemingly embarrassed to be walking alone without a manager.
Sensing he might feel uncomfortable if I stayed too long, I quickly handed him the CD.
“Oh, and this. It’s a song I wrote while thinking of you, Hyeok-pil-ssi. Would you mind listening to it just once? I’m an aspiring producer.”
The song, ‘Alleyway’, was based on Jeon-hyeok’s voice, but I hope it can bring you some comfort.
Besides, Jeon-hyeok and Yoon Hyeok-pil’s voices are both deep and somewhat similar in their blue tone.
“……Ah.”
Yoon Hyeok-pil, who received the CD, looked at it with a somewhat forlorn expression. On the surface of the CD, I had written, ‘Alleyway – For Yoon Hyeok-pil’, along with my phone number.
He hesitated for a moment, then managed a bitter smile.
“I appreciate the thought, but… there won’t be another album anymore.”
Was this his way of saying this was his last chance? I feel a strange sense of connection with him. He’s in a similar situation as me.
This industry is one of the cutthroat industries out there, so his reaction was understandable. In fact, I don’t even see any point in giving him a CD if there’s no chance of another album…
“But please listen to it. It won’t mean anything if it’s not you.”
My words seemed to affect Yoon Hyeok-pil. He looked at me, hesitating. I held out the CD, insisting. Reluctantly, he accepted it.
“Just once, please listen to it just once.”
He looked at the cover of the CD, then back at me. I smiled broadly and turned away so as not to burden him.
I hadn’t taken many steps when I heard a small voice reach my ears.
It was a gentle voice, carrying a hint of blue, filled with genuine gratitude.
“Thank you, I’ll definitely listen to it.”
I decided to cherish that voice, keeping it safe, the blue color of it, in the palette of my mind.
Bzzt—
11:30 PM. Just before falling asleep, my phone buzzed with a notification.
I rub my eyes and I glance at the screen.
It was Yoon Hyeok-pil.
“Hmm… Ah!”
I was staring blankly at the phone when suddenly I felt a chill run through my mind. Startled, I jumped to my feet.
First, I took a deep breath. Then, I needed to answer the call without sounding desperate.
“Whew… Yes, this is Kim So-ha, I mean, Helly.”
– “Uh… hello Composer-nim, this is Yoon Hyeok-pil, the singer you met earlier today. I… I listened to your song. It’s really good.”
“Oh? Ah, yes. I’m glad to hear that. But what brings you to call at this hour?”
His voice sounded somewhat nervous, which made me tense up as well. I focused intently on his words.
– “Well… I’m competing on ‘Singing Through the Times’… and I think the next round might be my last chance.”
Although ‘Singing Through the Times’ isn’t a competition where losers get eliminated, it was clear Yoon Hyeok-pil wouldn’t last much longer. There were already many viewers questioning why he was even on the show.
“Yes?”
– “Um…”
He hesitated, as if finding it hard to continue. I waited patiently.
As the second hand ticked around the clock, Yoon Hyeok-pil finally spoke.
– “Could you… help me with an arrangement, please?”
As soon as he said that, a thought flashed in my mind.
What a stroke of luck.
