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Chapter – 06
Goblin Mask.
I was told that this was the only mask they could prepare on short notice.
“…It looks kind of scary.”
A pure white face with two rough red horns sticking out aggressively.
Its smiling expression, similar to a traditional Hahoe mask, somehow even looked relaxed.
At that moment.
The MC’s voice echoed across the stage.
“This next performance is a little special. Jeong Sori’s father will personally play the piano on stage!”
A single beam of light followed me as I stepped onto the stage.
After that,
when I turned toward the center of the stage, I was met with hundreds of eyes staring at me.
‘…This is a bit overwhelming.’
Compared to my daughter, who was brave and didn’t seem shy at all, my shoulders might have been shrinking more and more.
Even though I was wearing a mask, someone might still recognize me.
“My daughter Sori… she really is beautiful.”
Dressed up, she looked quite mature for an 11-year-old.
The pink dress suited her perfectly.
If I had paid more attention to my daughter,
I could’ve dressed her in such pretty clothes more often.
‘It’s not too late. From now on, I’ll be there for Sori.’
I said that to myself.
But on stage, my daughter actually looked more dignified than I did.
Soon the applause died down.
The stage became so quiet that even breathing felt audible.
‘You can do it. Do this for Sori.’
I had always supported others from behind, never imagined I’d be on stage myself.
I worried I might mess up due to nerves.
But I steadied my mind and imagined it was just Sori and me alone.
Like when we filmed videos in the living room.
I took a deep breath and placed my hands on the keys.
As the first note rang out,
the frozen stage slowly began to fill with piano melody.
Then the orchestra waiting behind joined in with violins.
The thin strings wrapped around the piano’s resonance, making the music richer.
And over that, Sori’s young voice layered in.
‘…Sori, you’re doing so well.’
An unbelievable strength bursting from such a small body.
A maturity no one would expect from a child.
Her voice soared through the orchestra’s melody all the way to the highest ceiling of the hall.
The audience held their breath.
Some opened their mouths in shock, others cried as emotions overwhelmed them.
“I saw Sori’s video before, but wow… she’s even better live.”
“At first I thought it was edited, but it really was a kid singing.”
“How can an 11-year-old express emotions like that?”
“I’m so glad I came today.”
It wasn’t just the audience.
Even the other performers watching from the stage seats wore different expressions.
At that moment, Sori was clearly the main character.
After Sori’s performance,
she bowed lightly to the audience and left the stage holding my hand.
“Wow, that was a sudden request, but you did an amazing job without a single mistake.”
Then someone approached us.
It was Song Yeon-seong, the PD of Sing Your Talent.
“Can we talk for a moment later?”
“Yes, of course.”
He had mentioned earlier that after our first performance,
he wanted to discuss future appearances.
The audience reaction had been even hotter than expected.
Song Yeon-seong must have really liked Sori’s talent.
Later,
we met him again in the program staff waiting room.
“Haha, I hope I didn’t catch you off guard by calling you so suddenly.”
“No, it’s fine.”
His tone was very polite.
He was known in the industry for being courteous.
But he was also a cold strategist who cut anything unprofitable without hesitation.
The fact that he was lowering himself meant he was very satisfied with today’s stage.
“You know our program is divided into Part 1 and Part 2, right?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Part 1 is like today—various performers singing their songs. But Part 2 is entertainment. Contestants sing cover songs and the audience votes. That kind of system.”
As he said,
Part 1 was usually for debut, comeback, or promotional stages.
Part 2 was a competition format using cover songs.
“Part 2 is divided into fixed and non-fixed contestants. How about having Sori appear as a non-fixed guest once?”
It seemed PD Song Yeon-seong wanted to test Sori’s potential.
Of course, for him, talent meant profitable content, so he was probably even more eager.
“Thank you for the offer. But I think we should discuss it properly with Sori first before deciding.”
“Then please contact me after discussing it. This episode will air in about three weeks at the earliest, so Sori might become quite famous by then.”
Once her face became known, normal life would be difficult.
This wasn’t just some obscure program.
It was a nationally famous show that everyone recognized by name.
After a brief farewell, I left the waiting room.
‘Sori must be waiting…’
I hurried toward the contestant waiting room.
Then, at the door—
I heard unusually loud voices from inside.
Who was in Sori’s waiting room?
I opened the door in surprise.
Inside were the 7-year rookie girl group Madriane.
“…Huh?”
Starting from leader Ria,
Sehee, Hael, Joo-i, and Minsi— all five members.
“One, two, three. Hello, we are Madriane!”
They bowed together in unison.
“Ah… hello.”
I tried not to show my confusion.
Maybe they were just curious about Sori.
“Hello, I’m Ria, the leader of Madriane. We’ve met before…”
Ria spoke first.
“Yes, I think we met on a music program before.”
“Ah! You remember! You used to be Frensi’s manager, right?”
“That’s right.”
Back when I was working as a manager,
senior idols usually ignored me or pretended not to know me.
But Madriane was different.
Even though they were already quite experienced, they never ignored me.
“We watched Sori’s stage. It was really touching!”
“I almost cried listening, so we ran over to get autographs.”
“She’s really only 11, right?”
They all praised Sori endlessly without stopping.
And not just that—
they each held sketchbook papers in their hands, apparently signed autographs.
With colorful crayon marks Sori had carefully pressed down.
“Oh, right. Manager… no, sir… I heard you wrote and composed the song yourself. Is that true?”
Ria suddenly asked.
Maybe because of Sori’s spotlight.
Unlike before, when I could roam broadcasting stations unnoticed, this attention felt unfamiliar.
“Yes… I wrote and composed the song myself.”
“Wow! That’s amazing!”
They clapped enthusiastically.
This felt like being trapped in a praise prison.
“You used to do composing?”
“…I studied it as a hobby while working as a manager.”
Every sentence I said drew reactions of amazement.
It was a bit embarrassing.
“…We…”
Then—
the quietest member, Joo-i, stepped forward.
She was the main rapper.
Despite her cute face, she had powerful charisma on stage.
Usually quiet, but when the team was in trouble, she always stepped up.
“Could you… maybe compose a song for Madriane?”
Her request was unexpected.
The other members stayed silent as if they had done something wrong.
Only Joo-i spoke to me.
I understood why they were asking someone who wasn’t even a professional producer.
A 7-year “failed idol group.”
No miracles for small agencies.
They had no trainer in their company and even production was done internally.
They had debuted with no support at all.
Even promotions and broadcast appearances had to be personally chased down by the members.
Madriane even took on low-tier events just to survive.
‘…They’re so young. That’s harsh.’
Their contracts were also nearing expiration.
Normally, they would leave the company and start new plans.
But perhaps because of their sister-like bond,
they didn’t want to disband.
“…This year is our last year.”
When I didn’t answer, leader Ria stepped in.
“We’re not trying to pressure you. We just wanted to ask if it’s possible.”
Then the silence was broken by my daughter, Sori.
She quietly grabbed my hand.
“Dad, these sisters seem like really nice people, right?”
“….”
I already knew.
Madriane had good hearts.
‘Come to think of it… what happened to Madriane after failing to renew their contract?’
Did even one of them succeed afterward?
Unfortunately, they all ended up surviving only in minor stages.
That was the cruel reality of this industry.
If you didn’t survive competition, you were discarded.
‘Right now, I can’t even take care of myself…’
Even if I received appearance fees or fixed schedules, it wouldn’t be enough to run an entertainment company.
Sori’s schedule would have to be carefully managed.
And more than anything—
‘Sori isn’t a tool to make money.’
I had managerial experience,
but that alone wasn’t enough to become an agency CEO.
Even if I gave them a song,
they likely couldn’t pay a proper composition fee.
If this was for Sori, I had to be extremely careful and calculated.
‘I said I wouldn’t see Sori as money, but an agency still has to be a profitable business.’
Just as I was lost in thought under their desperate gazes,
I realized I had to say something very difficult.
