Raising a Neglected Singer-Songwriter - Chapter 10



Only Krnovel

Episode 10. Start-up (2)

Iron Crack-

As soon as the door opened, a boy came running with his arms outstretched.

“dad!”

“Oh my! My son!”

Hong Young-pil quickly picked up the child and hugged him.

My son is now 10 years old.

It was a bit difficult because it was too heavy to lift all at once at my age, but it didn’t matter.

Late marriage.

And even unexpected blessings.

It couldn’t be better.

His wife and children were Hong Yeong-pil’s reason for living.

As I walk with my child in my arms, I see my wife cooking.

“came?”

“It smells good?”

“My favorite soybean paste stew.”

My wife, whose nose wrinkles when she laughs.

In his arms is a son who loves and follows his father more than anyone else.

A man who has nothing to envy in the world.

He was the current Hong Young-pil.

A guitar riff that tickles your ears and your heart is heard.

A song by Guns N’ Roses.

This is Hong Young-pil’s bell ringing.

“for a moment.”

I put my son down and checked.

[Producer Ahn Chi-seop.]

He’s a PD from a broadcasting station.

The relationship between A and B has long since disappeared, but this is still a story between people of similar levels.

As soon as Hong Young-pil pressed the call button, he ran to the small room.

“Oh. PD Ahn, it’s been a while. Haha.”

– Oh, yes. How are you? I didn’t know the manager’s contact information, so I contacted him directly.

A very dry tone of speech.

Hong Young-pil is older.

It’s not that many, but he’s a guest on various entertainment programs, a keyboardist for a band that’s been around for a while, and a variety show PD who’s got a knack for making hit songs.

The balance of power is overwhelmingly tilted.

Still, there must be a good reason why I called first.

As expected, PD Ahn Chi-seop got straight to the point.

-I heard you were in a band before. Is that right?

“Ah. Yes.”

These days, when people see Hong Young-pil, they ask, “Is he a comedian?” or “Is he an entertainer?” Hong Young-pil’s roots are in music.

– Then it is true that you played on stage at night after the band failed?

The question is blunt, but that doesn’t matter.

The sound of my son’s laughter and the smell of soybean paste stew coming from the open door of the small room gave me the strength to not think much of it.

“Yes. I did this and that. I did a performance at Misari for about 5 years. Oh, there were a lot of fun things back then. One time, there was a different woman who came every week… … .”

– Oh, sorry, but that’s fine. I’m in charge of an audition program this time. So I’m thinking of inviting you to be a judge.

huh?

Hong Young-pil’s pupils dilated.

This is a completely different story.

Rather than asking you to bring out the humor by revealing episodes or playing the role of an old person who has gone out of style on variety shows, you’re a judge?

From a funny character who was always messing up to being a judge… … it could be a great opportunity.

But it didn’t even take 10 seconds for Hong Young-pil’s expectations to be shattered.

-Would you mind if the station was a little damaged?

A brief thought crossed my mind, wondering how the hell the judges could possibly be so screwed up, but it didn’t matter.

It’s okay.

It’s okay.

“I will. If I am a judge, I am fixed, right?”

-Oh, yes. Well, it’s fixed.

Fixed program.

A fixed income that comes with it.

That would be happiness.

* * *

The summer was starting to heat up as the preliminary round of Super Musician was broadcast.

I am at the preliminary round of .

A single small fixed camera.

A single chair just sitting there.

And across from the chair is a white table with two people sitting at it.

“How much do you weigh?”

“69 kilos.”

My older sister, who was asking me a few questions, suddenly stopped asking questions and looked me up and down.

“Is that 69 kilos?”

“yes.”

“49… … It looks like about kilos?”

“It’s 69.”

I’ve lost too much weight and am currently trying to gain it back. My goal is 69 kilograms. So of course, I’m not 69 now, but I’m definitely not 49 either. Somewhere in between.

“Excuse me. Can someone please bring me a scale?”

“… … .”

It didn’t take long for the lie to be exposed.

What idol audition preliminary round has a scale?

Like a pig being weighed in a slaughterhouse, I was dragged up and placed on a scale.

“59… … kilograms. You’re so skinny.”

“I’m still eating. Hey, can you make it 60? It’s 60 if you round it up.”

“How tall are you?”

“180.”

Then, my older sister tilted her head again and shouted again with more force.

“Here, give me a line!”

And he nods his head slightly as if to confirm that his judgment is correct.

“As expected. You’re 183cm. What a strange friend. You gained weight and lost height.”

It’s not that he’s shrunken, but he’s grown a bit more because his growth plate hasn’t closed yet. They say weeds grow even in barren land, so I guess he’s grown tall despite not eating or drinking that much.

My older sister, who got up from the judges’ seat, seems to want to perform a ritual while she’s at it, so she touches my body here and there, poking and tapping me.

“It tickles.”

“Why did you grow your hair out?”

“I just wanted to raise one since I was 20 years old.”

“I can’t see your face very well, but is it okay if I crop it or something?”

“yes.”

“Would you like to sit down for a moment?”

And when I sat down, the judge took out a rubber band from her wrist and wrapped it around her hair to tie it up.

“Oh… … It’s much better than I thought? I’ll call a stylist right now, so cut it… … .”

“Wait, wait!”

A man’s voice interrupted my sister’s words from one of the open walls.

“PD?”

The judge’s older sister stopped moving, and a person called PD walked in.

“wait for a sec.”

And then this man stares at me again.

“Wake up.”

“… … .”

ah.

I just don’t want to listen to what you say.

But the actions of a person with a purpose cannot but be submissive.

I got up from my seat with a start.

“You’re tall, bend down.”

“… … .”

As I bend down, the man starts to ruffle my hair.

Then… …the little child inside me began to whisper.

‘Don’t hold back! Rock is rebellion!’

No, you crazy bastard. Calm down… … Calm down, Dong-ha… … .

“This is funny. Don’t you have a company? Are you a regular participant?”

“Company? No.”

“okay?”

The PD man said with a satisfied smile, although I don’t know what he found out from me.

“Let’s go like this. Let’s mess up our hair and make it look as natural as possible. So that we can’t see our faces properly.”

Then he taps me on the back and adds a word.

“You do well. I look forward to it.”

* * *

As I leave the gym and walk, Beomseok is waiting for me.

“Did you do well?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Why don’t you know?”

“Ah… … It’s X.”

“what?”

First, I quickly got into the car.

“I’m screwed. Let’s find something else.”

“What? How did it fail?”

Sigh… … I can’t answer.

Because I was sold out.

So I changed the subject.

“Can a doctor just go around auditioning leisurely?”

“Emergency doesn’t do treatment or surgery. And, uh, I’m the center director. Rather, not going out is helping. I’ve done more than enough so far.”

While Beomseok was answering, he reached into the backseat, grabbed a blanket, and covered his face with it.

“Sleep.”

“What are you sleeping on? Are you really screwed?”

“Oh. Perfect.”

Even if it was scratched, it was scratched really well.

* * *

Ohana, the main writer of , is a successful otaku.

In fact, most broadcasting station writers are like that. They start out as fans and through various connections, they end up drinking a sip of broadcasting station water.

Then, when you come to your senses, you become children of darkness working outside of the labor laws of the Republic of Korea.

starvation.

Overtime.

A job where you have endless rest when you rest, but are so busy that you don’t even have time to wash your face when you work.

“How is this? This one just glows.”

“Oh. I have a feeling.”

“Right?”

but.

However, what kept me from letting go of this work was not something grandiose like a sense of accomplishment or calling.

It’s a hobby.

Writers in similar situations are putting their heads together and staring intently at their monitors.

It’s not just the writers who are like this, all the staff members are in a similar situation.

Check the people who participated in the preliminary round.

Check it out.

And mark it with an X.

That’s how I categorize it.

Click—

The youngest writer’s mouse moves to the next contestant’s screen.

Ah… … , it’s him.

“This child will definitely attend the live broadcast.”

The other writers all made strange expressions at Ohana’s words.

reason?

“I can’t even see your face properly?”

“You look like a stray dog ​​running away from home.”

“Are you a girl or a boy?”

Her hair is in a loose, slightly bangs that hang down her middle.

But it seems like they didn’t manage it properly, because their faces are covered.

“Your nose is big? If you lift your head, it’s surprisingly sculptural, isn’t it?”

“Have you seen a sculptor walking around like that? He’s an idol too.”

They have different opinions among themselves.

So.

“Just look at it.”

He said and hit the space bar.

Then… … an awkward greeting screen begins.

There’s even a scene where Ohana ties up a man’s hair with a hair tie.

In that scene, the youngest writer pressed the space bar without realizing it. He paused the screen to look at it for a long time.

“Wow! This… … What is this? Did you see it? Why did you hide this good thing?”

“I have a feeling. Maybe it’s because it’s not managed, but I’m more excited to see what it’ll be like when I touch it.”

Slaves of fandom who are already drooling.

This is what writers are like.

At first glance, it seems pure.

So, you’re the ghost of the broadcasting station, smiling with greasy hair.

If they get dressed up and go out somewhere… … right?

Main writer Ohana pressed the space bar instead of responding.

After PD Ahn messes up his hair and pats him on the back, the scene of the preliminary round continues.

-What are you good at? It says here that you play guitar and vocals.

―… … .

The dog that appeared on the screen suddenly sat down after standing there for a while without answering.

-hey?

-Can I sing a song?

-yes?

Whether Ohana is flustered or not, she suddenly starts singing while sitting down.

All of a sudden, without even turning on the MR.

Even pop songs.

Moreover, it is not a calm and emotional song.

“What song is this?”

“queen?”

“Queen… … This… …?”

“What is this?”

Since we all saw the movie Bohemian Rhapsody that was popular a few years ago, even if we don’t know the title, we all know that it’s a Queen song.

“But are you good at it?”

“Good job.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Who is this guy, really?”

The sapling that appeared in the screen poured out the queen’s words in one breath while still sitting in the same position.

Without any particular inconvenience.

“… … You’re the main vocalist?”

When one of the writers said that and turned his head, Ohana smiled bitterly.

“Keep watching.”

-Your vocals are amazing. Do you dance a little?

-I can’t cry.

-You don’t have to be able to dance, so just dance once.

-You don’t like it?

The conference room was momentarily filled with silence.

Everyone took their eyes off the screen and awkwardly looked at Ohana.

I wonder what kind of situation this is…

Whether everyone was shocked or not, the play bar on my laptop continued to move.

-……yes?

-I don’t like it.

-Uh… … Hmm?

-Shall we sing one more song? Or should we go?

Even though Ohana has had a lot of time on the air, she is a writer, not a host or main producer. It is only natural that she is unable to deal with this situation.

A man’s voice was heard outside the camera.

This is PD Ahn Chi-seop.

-You brought a guitar. Play it.

-I don’t like it.

-Then what is the form?

-No?

-Then why don’t you play it? Are you not confident in playing the guitar?

-I’m much more confident in the guitar.

-Then try it.

-no, I do not want.

-Hey, you can’t play guitar. It’s just form, form.

-You’re good at it, but you don’t feel like playing right now.

-Then sing one more song.

-no, I do not want.

-You said you were going to sing one more song?

-That was earlier. I don’t like it now.

-Why? What is the reason?

-Who are you, sir, and why do you keep telling me to do this and that?

– Mister? Hahaha! Hey, you’re really a funny guy, aren’t you?

what……?

What about this fight in Jagangducheon?

Everyone turned their gaze half to the screen and half to Ohana, demanding an explanation for this unknown video.

“That’s the end of it. And then he suddenly left. I thought, is this the only broadcasting there is? PD Ahn was so happy when he saw that that his mouth fell open.”

When PD Ahn said he liked it, everyone understood why he passed.

Cooking isn’t some kind of magic. You can’t make it spicy and stimulating without any ingredients and just say, “Yay!” and it’ll turn into mala-tang.

To create a stimulating taste, you first need great ingredients.

The sapsaree that came out of the house was used as an ingredient and firewood for mala-tang.