Chapter 308

Chapter 308

The second day of the retreat arrived, and we continued arranging songs amid raucous laughter.

“Hahaha!”

“That sounds so stupid!”

The process of combining a children’s song with idol tracks had turned out to be even more absurd than it sounded, and the result was a slew of bizarre arrangements. Only adding to the absurdity, we’d picked the songs through lots.

We’ll never be able to reveal these. The moment someone realized we were the ones to make them, there would be controversy accusing us of mocking younger groups. I played my combination of “Dreamy Little Bear” and “Hacker” for the others, then turned it off without regrets.

Dreamy little bear! D-d-d-dreamy little bear!

It was the strangest garbage I’d heard in a while. Raebin, however, managed to create something interesting even with this.

“Wow, Raebin! The beat for this is from that Golden Age song, right?”

“Yes. I used the beat of the verse to give it a more sophisticated feel!”

“So… this is how a children’s song sounds when remixed…?” Bae Sejin asked in puzzlement.

But Raebin’s mash-up was unique and appealing enough to warrant this response. It was hard to imagine that a common children’s song could sound so trendy.

My intention was that all of us would fail and lessen Raebin’s burden. Our failures only seemed to excite Raebin more, but this was a good thing. I looked around at the others. The retreat had become a riot of laughter. Then I stood up.

“Moondae, where are you going?” Big Sejin asked.

“Checking on the chicken.”

We were making whole chicken soup in the pressure rice cooker, and I was going to check on it. Someone unexpected joined me, however.

“I’ll come, too!” cried Eugene.

I thought he said he liked chicken soup far less than actual fried chicken. He seemed excited to be on a retreat. I shrugged and headed to the stove, Eugene trailing behind me. I noticed the ginseng liquor on display, seemingly untouched, on the indoor balcony nearby. I was reminded of my early morning drink with Raebin.

Who would have thought I’d use the breath freshener spray for something like this? We’d changed and used breath spray, so nobody would notice we’d been drinking. The tiny bottle we’d drunk wasn’t going to get anyone drunk, anyway.

Wait… That was true for me, but what about the others?

“The more I listen to this, the more I realize that you made a good choice using only the most addictive part of the melody from the children’s song!” Raebin was saying to Big Sejin.

“Ahaha! You think so? Does it make you want to keep listening?”

“Yes! It’s very interesting!”

I wondered if Raebin was being so talkative because he was slightly drunk.

Well… If he’s relaxing, that’s not a bad thing. Nobody knew why he was so relaxed, after all. I passed by the liquor beyond the glass.

That was when Eugene whispered, “Hey, did you drink that?”

How’d the son of a b*tch know?! But wait, I’ll deny it to start with.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“You’re lying! I don’t believe you.” Eugene grinned and pointed at the fridge. He said in English, “I noticed an empty bottle in the fridge this morning. It’s from that strange alcohol out there, right? I found it while I was looking for a soft drink.”

So that’s how he figured it out. It wasn’t surprising, since he was probably the most voracious person among us. I stared at him, wondering if he wanted an extra leg of chicken or something. Eugene surprised me by shrugging and glancing at Raebin.

He continued speaking in English, “You drank it with him, right?”

“Yes.”

“I knew it. No wonder he looks so comfortable. Alcohol sometimes makes a person talk more.”

“Who told you that?”

“Uh… My grandma?”

I was beginning to understand why he and Raebin had gotten along so well, starting from when they’d been with their previous agency. I thought back to what Raebin said about his grandmother, and what she’d said about the ginseng liquor, before casting the thought from my mind.

Eugene lowered his voice, reverting to Korean. “It’s nice to see him so relaxed.”

I was pretty proud of him, hearing him say that.

“You must have been pretty worried. Why not tell him yourself?” I asked.

He shrugged. “We’re the same age,” he said in English. “It’s a matter of pride.”

That hardly seemed like something he should be saying, since he was the one who had gone to Raebin crying during Idol Inc.

Or is that a totally different sort of thing? In any case, I nodded to him and checked the rice cooker.

Eugene followed after me again, and this time gave me a thumbs up. “You’re amazing, by the way.”

You mean the chicken soup?

He started speaking English once more. “You’ve been helping Kim Raebin to write more music for ages now.”

“That was just him,” I said.

Raebin would have done fine no matter where he went. He’d turned a children’s song into a legitimate pop track.

But Eugene crossed his arms. “No. Our previous agency wasn’t very smart! Raebin has talent, for sure, but they didn’t let him compose much.”

“Hmm.”

“But you trusted him from the start, and Raebin has often said how grateful he is for that.”

I’d expected them to be shouting each other down all the time, even when I wasn’t around. I hadn’t known they had conversations of that nature. This was such a heartwarming conversation that I was embarrassed that my belief in Raebin was largely because I’d seen his Maestro trait in the status window.

But Eugene was not done. “Athletes and artists are bound to experience a slump at some point. It’s not because you burdened him in some way that Raebin fell into one.”

I stared at him.

“I’m sure Raebin would want you to know that, so I’ll say it for him. As his best friend!”

I hadn’t expected that he’d follow me into the kitchen to hand out words of encouragement. He thumped me on the back, though I wasn’t clear what meaning he was trying to convey with the gesture.

“And look at that! Even your magical little drink worked. Frankly, I’m impressed.”

Huh.

I looked at his smile, then glanced at Raebin again. I replied briefly, “Thanks.”

“Hehe.”

“But don’t tell anyone about the liquor,” I warned in English.

“Okay! I’ll keep a secret for my friends,” he said in English before reverting to Korean. His eyes gleamed. “But let me drink with you! That’s the condition.”

The ginseng liquor? I didn’t think he’d like it much. Perhaps he was expecting it to taste like sweet wine or something because of the color.

“When?”

“Now! Or no… How about tonight?”

Come on.

I grinned at him. “Fine. We’ll drink.”

Eugene smiled and held out his fist.

A gloomy voice interrupted.

“Drink what?”

“…!”

What in the world are you doing here? It was Bae Sejin. He stared at Eugene’s fist with an uncomfortable look on his face. Then a shocked look came over his face.

“You… you drank that liquor!”

Damn it.

“Actually, we…” I began.

“Kim Raebin! Did you drink that stuff with Park Moondae?”

“Oh, yes! We drank some in the morning— Oh…” Raebin seemed to abruptly remember what he’d said about keeping it a secret so that the other members wouldn’t feel left out. He spoke with an embarrassed look on his face. “Sorry. I should have restrained myself until evening… I’ll set some out for dinner!”

“You…!” Bae Sejin’s face turned red, but he repressed whatever he was about to say.

Would you look at that? Color me impressed.

“All right…”

“Okay!” Raebin said.

“Wait, what is this about?” Big Sejin asked.

“We were talking about drinking the ginseng liquor in the evening!” Raebin said.

“G-ginseng…?”

“Oh, that.”

There was an odd look on the members’ faces, but they didn’t argue. I’d been off alcohol for a while, and they probably didn’t want to come for Raebin right now. Did this mean the matter would be glossed over?

Bae Sejin seemed to have also guessed there was more to our morning drinking than met the eye. It was all right, since I didn’t really feel much excitement about drinking anymore.

That means I’ll get to have some more for dinner—

Bae Sejin took my shoulder. “You don’t get any more.”

Hey!

“Look at him! He’s fine. A little bit of wine won’t do any harm!” Eugene said.

“That’s not wine. It’s hard liquor!”

Eugene made a sad face and whispered, “Sorry, Moondae.”

Whatever… I didn’t get to put another drop of alcohol in my mouth for the rest of our time in the cabin. Even so, the retreat turned out well overall. By the time we left, Raebin’s laptop was back in his hands, instead of tucked away in my backpack.

***

After we’d returned from our three days of solitude, we turned our focus solely on concert preparations. Not that we didn’t have a little spare time on the side, of course. I sometimes opened WeTube and checked on the arrangements for 127 Section, which Big Sejin had uploaded with background images and everything.

In short, they were getting a much better reaction than expected.

- Who is this guy?

- OK I’m not joking. This is soooo interesting

- No way

- What’s Ruin Factory doing? Pay this guy. It would be so amazing if this plays as the boss music

The game series had a lot of dedicated fans all over the globe, and those online who liked checking out music covers kept on finding and watching the videos. This seemed to have led to word-of-mouth exposure for the tracks.

I expected as much, thanks to the quality. We’d also attached some strong keywords in the description so that search engines would show the videos to users.

And naturally, Raebin’s theme song elicited the most enthused reactions. Raebin had edited ours as well—almost remaking them from scratch—but the track he’d made himself was of much better quality. Most of the comments were lauding Raebin as a genius.

- Okay, I’m sure this person is already in the industry

└ You sound pretty confident for an uncultured swine. In the eyes of someone working in the industry, this is some young genius who hasn’t yet begun his career

└ LOL who are you calling uncultured, you f*cking pig? It’s obvious he has loads of talent in arranging music right off the bat

I very intentionally let Raebin see these comments. In fact, I even read some of them with him.

“This is what they’re saying,” I said.

“Yes, uh… It’s a bit embarrassing, but I’m grateful!”

I wanted him to see the comments and feel certain that he’d escaped his slump. These were, on the surface, similar to the comments that had caused Raebin’s slump in the first place, but there was one key difference.

These commenters don’t know who he is. There were no high standards or background knowledge motivating these reviews. People were praising him, pure and simple, for the arrangements without any bias. This could be a great motivator for him. And he didn’t have to be afraid of criticism, since the videos were anonymous anyway. Were they to receive any criticism, Raebin had room to shrug it off because he’d made them with us, beginners at arrangement.

Regardless of how well or poorly this goes, nothing more will come of it. It also had the added benefit of reigniting his interest in composition.

I caught Bae Sejin looking at the feedback for his song multiple times.

“Wh-what?”

“Nah, it’s nothing.”

I sometimes looked at the comments for mine, so we weren’t all that different. In any case, we kept an eye on the feedback that didn’t have to mean anything as we prepared for our concert. Perhaps because of this, Raebin seemed to be focusing without trouble, even though this was the first concert in which he had not participated in the arranging.

There was even someone taking advantage of this.

“Moondae,” Big Sejin said.

“…?”

We had just finished choreography practice, and we were about to go back to the dorm. Big Sejin came over to me holding a tablet PC.

“Hmm… We haven’t touched the music at all for this concert because of Raebin and all that, right?”

“Yes.”

“That means we’ll get our arrangements faster… Why don’t we focus on other elements more with the extra time we have?”

That sounds like a good idea.

“How?” I asked.

“Like this!”

He turned the tablet screen on and showed me a setlist—only it wasn’t the existing one, but one that he’d modified.

“…!”

“Not bad, huh?”

He was right.

I immediately said, “This is good stuff. Why don’t we bring it up at tomorrow’s meeting?”

“Okay!” Big Sejin said with a grin.

Productive. He shared the file with me as I drank some water. This wasn’t the end of the day’s events, however.

“Uh… so we got this comment…”

Bae Sejin showed me something on his phone on the way back to the dorm. It was the comment section on our anonymous arrangement channel, which was starting to become a familiar sight. The comment had gotten so many likes that it was now at the top, and it was an official invitation.

- Hello, this is T1 Plays. You have no contact information on your channel, so we had no choice but to try to reach you through a comment.

“…?”

The long-winded comment ended with the email address of a staff member at T1 Plays. I recognized the email address.

“It’s the same person we spoke with for the game collab.”

“You’re right,” I said.

A massive and completely unintentional ruse had just begun.