The Double Life of a Genius Musician-Chapter 152 : A Kind of Boss Raid

Chapter 152: A Kind of Boss Raid
The rejection went out unfiltered.
Watching me on a day like this, CEO Park Taekeun asked,
“……Why on earth?”
I didn’t answer right away.
Why indeed?
Sometimes I found myself strange too.
Right now, I was a freelance composer.
I wasn’t affiliated with any company.
Several had reached out, offering exclusive contracts, but I had turned them all down.
It wasn’t because I had some grand ambition.
Nor was it out of some pretentious desire to say, ‘I’m a free spirit,’ or to indulge in some petty artistic play.
I just found this way more fun.
Bumping around different places and learning about the ecosystem one by one……
It felt like a kind of boss raid, a level-up.
Or like a quest.
ToMe, Tomorrow, Manny, KIM Entertainment……
They were all similar big-name companies, but their atmospheres and systems were entirely different.
Ah, KIM Entertainment felt a bit different. It was like… the main house?
Anyway.
‘The Amondyoung Project.’
At first, I really wanted to do it.
I wanted it so badly.
Amondyoung.
It was a friendly, familiar brand.
A homegrown beauty brand that had been thriving for over 20 years. I’d heard their revenue topped 4 trillion won.
They held an unshakable position as the dominant leader in the health and beauty market.
I had prepared a ton of materials and already envisioned it from multiple angles.
But before the meeting, during some additional phone calls, I learned that Amondyoung was aiming for its next step.
They were planning a leap into the luxury platform space.
I flinched at the word luxury.
That kind of thing…… wasn’t a fit for me.
It was a type of project where I couldn’t influence the direction and was expected to work with a very clear-cut concept — unfamiliar territory.
I had hoped to discuss this openly today, but instead, they were asking for an exclusive contract.
Publishing companies and entertainment companies were different.
Their structures, the way they made requests, even how they viewed the industry.
So I declined.
The more I wanted something, the more greedy I became.
And when greed took over, things would go awry.
I didn’t have the luxury for that just yet.
No matter how tempting this project was, I had to stay calm and follow the standard path.
Yes, this was a kind of emotional check.
I had to stop myself from getting swept up in excitement and stamping that seal without thinking.
Because the moment I stamped it, it would mean adjusting everything to that system.
“Hm…….”
Park Taekeun and Lim Gunwoo were both watching my mouth closely.
As I calmly gathered my words, Director Lim Gunwoo, seemingly unable to hold back anymore, asked,
“Why? Is it because the exclusive contract feels burdensome? The terms wouldn’t disappoint.”
To that, I could answer right away.
“No. It’s not that the exclusive contract feels burdensome. There’s just something more important.”
This time, Park Taekeun stepped in.
Looking intrigued.
He leaned in close toward me.
“And what would that be?”
“I wanted to approach this project not as a mere jingle, but as music.”
Lim Gunwoo raised an eyebrow.
But I went on unfazed.
“The term ‘luxury platform’ sounds nice. It carries a premium feel. But my music doesn’t pretend to be luxurious. It’s more about emotion than surface elegance, more about memory than concept. So, I wanted to start with the concept of Amondyoung as ‘a place that’s truly close to us.’”
Like my music.
I didn’t say this part out loud.
Because I figured it had probably already gotten across.
A brief silence followed.
Then Director Lim broke it.
“For example?”
“The place where you went to buy a gift for your girlfriend, the place you naturally stopped by to get hand cream for your mom, the store where you chose a supplement for a friend. For me, that place was Amondyoung.”
I made eye contact with each of them once and continued my answer.
“When the familiar parts of our daily life start to feel like unfamiliar luxuries, Amondyoung drifts away from us. It’s the same with music. I wanted to create music that brings back the small joys and warm scenes from our memories. Luxury doesn’t fit that direction.”
Park Taekeun kept his mouth shut and nodded.
Only Lim Gunwoo looked at me with a cold gaze and asked,
“Are you saying you won’t sign the contract because it’s not something you want to do?”
I slowly shook my head.
And said, politely but firmly,
“No. It is a project I want to do. But I believe the more I want something, the more objective I need to be. Especially in a case like this, where the project and the music I pursue don’t align.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
At his counter, I replied seriously,
“No. Not at all. The project I want to do and the music I want to make are completely different things.”
Just because something looked good or I craved it, didn’t mean I’d force my music to fit it.
That was a standard I had to protect.
“That’s why I’m not ready to sign an exclusive contract with Daebak Sound. I’m still not used to following a set direction.”
With a respectful bow, I concluded the meeting.
It was disappointing, but maybe I should say it was for the best?
If Amondyoung’s direction had aligned with mine, I might have stamped that seal like I was under a spell.
On the way out of Daebak Sound.
Strangely, my mouth tasted bitter.
And my ears felt kind of itchy too.
Lim Gunwoo stared at the seat Taeyoon had just vacated.
His head tilted slightly.
After crossing his arms and standing silently for a long time, he thought,
‘Those brothers are both so damn rude, huh?’
Stay’s words had sounded convincing.
Clean, even a little moving.
But that was all it was.
He knew.
Words like those came out more easily when someone lacked confidence.
Stay? That guy was just all talk in the end.
He had ambition but no guts to match it.
Or maybe he’d sensed the outcome would be painful, so he was making excuses in advance.
Lim Gunwoo chuckled and muttered to Park Taekeun,
“‘The project I want to do and the music I want to make are different’? Pfft. Sounded pretty convincing, right?”
Then he casually uncrossed his arms.
Stay — I expected more, but that’s all he’s got?
That was his honest impression.
But Park Taekeun had a different take.
While Lim Gunwoo saw Stay as someone who ran away, Park Taekeun assessed the situation from many angles.
Forty years of experience wasn’t for nothing.
He could tell the difference between someone who used words to escape and someone who staked everything on them.
To Park Taekeun, Stay wasn’t someone who ran.
He was someone who held his ground.
Even when he was dying to do it, he refused to get swept up by the system.
“Director Lim, do you really think that?”
In response to Park Taekeun’s question, Lim Gunwoo muttered with a sneer,
“Of course. I’ve never seen anyone who hides behind nice-sounding words actually pull things off. It just means they know they can’t handle it. So they hide behind talk of ‘philosophy’ or ‘direction’ to avoid it.”
Park Taekeun silently picked up his coffee cup.
The cold coffee tasted sour.
“Don’t you know the ones who talk well are the most dangerous?”
“Maybe I’m just all talk?”
Park Taekeun gave a short laugh.
“Yeah, someone who’s only talk isn’t scary. But someone who talks well and knows timing — those are rare. You never know where they’ll explode.”
At that, Lim Gunwoo fell silent.
“Choosing your words means you’re thinking. And Stay definitely knows. What he’s doing, what he’s holding back.”
Park Taekeun quietly looked out the window.
The image of Stay walking away from this very room came vividly to mind.
“The ones who hold back are the scariest. The ones who want to — but don’t.”
“But, sir.”
This time, Lim Gunwoo picked up his teacup.
He swirled it and continued.
“If restraint is a skill, then the scariest guy in the world must be the unemployed dude lying around at home doing nothing.”
Park Taekeun looked at Lim Gunwoo with a bitter smile.
Gunwoo was clearly irritated.
Why? Because he was the one who had most welcomed the luxury concept pitched by the Amondyoung team.
And now Stay had come out and directly challenged that very concept.
So this was about pride.
Park Taekeun nodded with his chin — urging him to go on.
“At his age, he could’ve just pushed through with guts. But the moment he backed out, it was already over. A guy who puts calculation ahead of instinct — he’ll end up ordinary. The ones who truly matter, they’re all crazy.”
If you ask me, Stay was the craziest of them all.
But Park Taekeun didn’t say that out loud.
Instead, he slowly pushed away his cold coffee cup with his fingers and asked,
“So Director Lim. You’re pissed we couldn’t scout Seo Dongyoon or Stay, huh?”
“Sir, what’s that got to do with this? And besides—”
Lim Gunwoo downed his cold coffee in one go and snapped.
“The Amondyoung project, it’s a huge deal. They must’ve already pitched it all over the place. Are you seriously letting this go?”
“I can’t, can I?”
“You know how these big corporate types work. If they’ve already locked in ‘luxury’ as the internal concept, no one can change that.”
“True……”
At that point, Park Taekeun agreed.
It was a rigid power dynamic.
That’s how big corporations operated.
No matter how much you say no, they never change.
You just have to do what they say.
Whether the project succeeds or flops—
That’s their responsibility to bear.
That’s how Director Lim had survived this long.
Whether a track fit or not didn’t matter.
As long as he made what they wanted and it got picked, that was it.
Who’s the underdog to comment on what the top dog’s doing?
Even if you did, they wouldn’t care anyway.
Director Lim drove the point home.
“What business does some no-name publisher have questioning the almighty client’s concept? They can’t. And they shouldn’t. Forget Stay or whatever — we’ll just start the project with our own guys. Tch, what a waste of time.”
With that, Lim Gunwoo stood up abruptly.
Park Taekeun didn’t stop him.
He even raised a hand slightly, as if to signal he understood.
Clack—
The door shut, and silence fell over the CEO’s office.
Park Taekeun pulled back the coffee cup.
The bitter and sour taste of cold coffee perfectly matched the thoughts swirling in his head.
‘Who’s really the crazy one? The guy chasing performance? The one chasing direction? This’ll be interesting.’
He quietly called for his secretary.
“Yes, CEO Park?”
“Set up a meeting with the Amondyoung team. I need to speak with them myself.”
Stay’s bold words kept lingering in his mind.
Time flew by.
Things got so hectic I completely forgot about Daebak Sound.
The prep for Lumière’s second album was just that intense, and every day was a blast.
Especially the choreography — it came out amazing.
From the first day I saw the choreography for Not Yet until now—
“Dan-dan-dan—”
I secretly copied the dance moves multiple times a day.
That little push-pull gesture where you softly press your palm forward as if rejecting something — it’s surprisingly addictive.
Nothing could be more playful than this!
Kim Minsoo looked like he was staking everything on this Lumière album.
I heard he poured a ton of money into both the choreography and the music video.
As expected of Kim Minsoo — I always knew I could trust him!
With a large coffee in hand, I headed to the KIM Entertainment practice room.
I was waiting for the elevator with my headphones on.
Someone tapped me on the back.
I turned around and saw it was Lumière’s leader, Lee Jeongin.
“Writer, were you just copying our choreography?”
I answered with a serious face.
“No way. Absolutely not.”
“Dan-dan-dan—”
No way.
The moment Jeongin sang the killing part, my palm moved on its own. Damn it.
Jeongin covered her mouth with one hand, trying to hold back laughter.
Then she gave in and burst out laughing.
“Oh my god. You really did it. I’m telling Gibong-oppa.”
“Please — anyone but Gibong-hyung!”
“Then should I tell Team Leader Dongyoon……”
Before I could even respond—
Ding—
The elevator arrived.
Jeongin jumped in like she was making a getaway.
“Hey, wait—! Let me ride too.”
These days, I was happy. I really was.
What mattered most was this place, this music, these people.
I had gotten pretty close with the Lumière members.
And I had made friends with the new staff at the label, Track Race.
I still hadn’t told them I was Blackhole.
The reason was simple.
……It was embarrassing. They’d definitely tease me.
The album recording was mostly wrapped up.
And on the day Blackhole’s DJing and rapping were laid over Lee Jeongin’s soulful vocals—
“Wait, the DJ’s totally the star here?”
“What’s with that voice?”
“I swear I’ve heard this somewhere before. What is it? What is it?”
Listening to their reactions in the meeting room, I awkwardly doodled in my planner.
The response was hotter than I’d expected.
Hey — Team Leader Seo Dongyoon.
Don’t look at me with those sly eyes!