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Chapter – 05
The punk rock song “Rendezvous” was the very first song I ever composed for the band.
But I hadn’t written it alone.
I first created a rough draft—something like a blank canvas—and then completed it by gathering everyone’s ideas.
Although we all loved rock music, our favorite subgenres were different.
Trying to combine everyone’s opinions hadn’t been easy. We argued countless times, and I couldn’t even remember how many revisions we made.
Even then, it wasn’t an objectively outstanding song.
It held deep meaning for us, but our skills at the time had obvious limitations.
But things were different now.
“Could the current me finally do this song justice?”
To find out, I decided I needed an objective approach.
Drawing upon my memories, I began layering instrument tracks that matched the original version of “Rendezvous” as closely as possible.
I couldn’t recreate it perfectly, but I got surprisingly close.
Hearing that familiar music again naturally brought a smile to my face.
It absolutely reeked of amateurism.
But it was also filled with memories.
Some of them… embarrassingly so.
The reason “Rendezvous” was a punk rock song was because, back then, we wanted to rebel against mainstream commercial music.
Pop songs and idol music dominated the charts, hip-hop had swept across Korea, and we thought stubbornly clinging to rock made us look cool.
Back then, I believed idols were nothing more than pretty dolls singing songs chosen by their agencies without thinking.
I also thought hip-hop was music for people who couldn’t sing.
Of course…
Now I knew just how embarrassingly immature those thoughts had been.
Music only has value if someone listens to it.
Considering what listeners enjoy isn’t something shameful.
It’s natural.
Even admirable.
Which meant…
We had been wrong.
That was why I wanted to convince my old bandmates with this song.
Because good music carries power.
With that thought in mind, I began rearranging the original.
I transformed the old “Rendezvous,” which had been overflowing with amateurism and niche prejudices, into something people would genuinely enjoy.
I lowered the tempo to a medium pace and replaced the excessive variations with rhythmic patterns that flowed together more naturally.
At the same time, I reduced the overall presence of the melody guitar, saving it for specific moments where it could shine.
If the melody guitar dominated for too long, the song became too difficult to follow, making it harder to appeal to a broader audience.
I left the chorus mostly untouched.
I wasn’t trying to create pure pop, after all.
I even considered changing the guitar tone, but decided against it.
That would have stripped “Rendezvous” of its identity.
When I looked at the finished arrangement, the once-pure punk rock track had evolved into a medium-tempo pop rock—or perhaps pop-punk—song.
“…Hmm.”
Eighty points?
Maybe eighty-five with nostalgia bias.
Either way…
I liked it quite a bit.
The owner of ST Studio, Jo Hyun-seop, now ran only the recording studio.
But years ago, he had been an incredibly famous producer.
Long before the term K-pop even existed, he’d been inspired by Japan and experimented with producing idol groups.
That was ancient history, though.
He had been running ST Studio for over fifteen years now.
The day before, he had received a phone call from Jang Deok-cheol of Strings of Resonance.
Apparently a high school student named Cha Seo-ha, who played with extraordinary skill, would be coming to record.
Jang Deok-cheol had been practically shouting with excitement.
“He’s recording an original song tomorrow. Listen to it when he comes. He says composing is his real strength, but honestly, I can’t imagine him being better at composing than he already is at guitar.”
Jo Hyun-seop’s feelings were split.
Half curiosity.
Half skepticism.
If Jang Deok-cheol thought highly of the kid, then he had to be talented.
But extraordinary?
A high school student?
And he claimed he was even better at composing?
That was why Jo Hyun-seop deliberately came to the studio during Cha Seo-ha’s booking.
“Has Cha Seo-ha arrived?”
The part-time employee, Park Min-ji, answered.
“Yes.”
“So? What’s he like?”
“He’s tall and really handsome. Honestly, he looks like an idol.”
“An idol?”
“Well… maybe not exactly. Probably a trainee? Even his signature looked incredibly stylish.”
“Really?”
Jo Hyun-seop tilted his head.
So maybe what Jang Deok-cheol meant was simply that he was a handsome kid who could play guitar pretty well.
“Move.”
Jo Hyun-seop sat down in front of the studio monitoring screen.
Even sitting down, the boy looked tall and well-built in his neatly worn school uniform.
His face still retained traces of baby fat, but once he matured a little more, he looked like the kind of person who could easily build a massive fanbase.
At that moment…
The boy inside the recording booth played back the song he’d just finished recording.
The instant the music started, Jo Hyun-seop blinked in surprise.
It was far heavier than he’d expected from someone who looked like that.
Rock?
And fairly hard rock at that?
It sounded like an amateur homage to 1980s punk rock.
Not bad.
Actually…
It was nostalgic.
Just as he found himself wanting to hear more…
The boy stopped the playback.
Park Min-ji, who had been watching beside him, spoke.
“What do you think, boss? It already sounded pretty good when he was stacking the instrument tracks.”
“It’s decent.”
“For an amateur.”
“Are you just underrating him because he’s handsome?”
“What ridiculous nonsense.”
“A kid that handsome who can play like that is incredibly rar—”
She quickly corrected herself.
“I mean… incredibly precious.”
Jo Hyun-seop shrugged.
That was exactly the kind of reaction he’d expected.
Jang Deok-cheol had reacted similarly.
Just as he was about to lose interest…
Another version of the song began playing.
It wasn’t an entirely different song.
It sounded like an arranged version of the previous one.
But…
The quality was on another level.
The medium-tempo arrangement immediately lifted his mood.
Nothing got in the way while listening.
Which meant every instrument blended together beautifully.
The refreshing verse maintained just enough tension.
Then…
During the pre-chorus…
Something began building.
The tension steadily intensified.
The drums joined in.
The instruments surged forward together.
And the instant the chorus exploded…
All that accumulated tension released at once, revealing almost the same energetic punk rhythm as the original.
“Huh?”
Only after reaching the chorus did he understand.
The kid had masterfully built anticipation throughout the pre-chorus.
Most amateur composers simply tried to make the chorus louder and stronger.
This kid actually understood songwriting.
To make the chorus hit harder…
Everything leading up to it mattered.
And he had executed that perfectly.
Because of it, the emotions landed with remarkable clarity.
A youthful feeling.
Immature.
Excited.
Just listening made him picture teenagers in school uniforms running beneath a bright blue sky.
It was unbelievable.
This wasn’t amateur work.
It was professional.
The kind of quality expected from one of today’s successful producers.
How could a mere high school student do this?
Then what was that original version?
“Wait… was he hired to rearrange someone else’s song?”
But unlike Jo Hyun-seop, the boy himself didn’t seem satisfied.
He tilted his head thoughtfully.
Then spent another twenty minutes tweaking the track.
Jo Hyun-seop wasn’t bored for a second.
If anything…
His anticipation grew.
What is he changing now?
Unfortunately…
He never got to hear it.
The student finished monitoring everything through headphones alone, exported the file onto a USB drive, and never played it through the studio speakers.
Without speaker playback…
The control room couldn’t hear anything.
Then…
The student started composing an entirely different song.
The moment Jo Hyun-seop heard the guitar riff…
He knew.
This one’s going to sell.
Not just sell.
It had a very high chance of becoming a huge success.
Although…
The key sounded better suited for a female singer.
“Who exactly is this kid?”
He was talented enough that Jo Hyun-seop wanted to sign him immediately.
With looks like that…
If he debuted as an idol, he’d make a fortune.
“He’s already with an agency, right?”
“Obviously,” Min-ji replied.
“There’s no way someone reaches that level through training alone.”
“Kid.”
“That isn’t something training can produce.”
It was talent.
Pure, natural talent.
Even so…
He was probably already signed.
There were simply too many people in the industry capable of recognizing a diamond in the rough.
Some time later…
The studio door finally opened.
The student he had only seen through the monitor walked out.
He was even more handsome in person.
And despite his age, he carried an unusually mature presence.
He had incredible screen presence.
“Excuse me… where’s the restroom?”
Even his voice sounded good.
“It’s around the corner.”
“…By the way.”
“Yes?”
“I happened to overhear your recording while monitoring.”
“Were those your original songs?”
The student calmly nodded.
“Yes.”
“Were you hired to arrange them? The quality difference between those two versions was enormous.”
“I just…”
“I revised a song my friends and I wrote a long time ago.”
A long time ago?
He’s still just a kid.
How long ago could that possibly have been?
“Which company are you signed with?”
“I’m not signed.”
“…What?”
“So you’ve done all this completely on your own?”
“Yes.”
“I honestly enjoyed your songs so much…”
“If you’re willing, I’d like to introduce you to a few excellent agencies.”
The student stared quietly at him.
Only then did Jo Hyun-seop realize how suspicious he probably sounded.
He hurriedly handed over a business card.
“I’m the owner here.”
“I promise I’m saying this with no ulterior motive.”
Park Min-ji quickly added,
“You know ‘Uptown Boy,’ right?”
“He wrote that song.”
“He was the producer for the group that sang it.”
“I appreciate the offer.”
“But I’ll have to decline.”
“It’d be a shame to waste talent like yours.”
“You don’t have to sign anything.”
“Just go and talk with them.”
“I’m not alone.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m getting ready to start a band with my friends.”
“…Ah.”
The word band made Jo Hyun-seop sigh in understanding.
He’d assumed the music was merely rock-influenced.
He hadn’t expected the boy to genuinely pursue a real rock band.
“If you ever need anything, please contact me.”
“Why?”
“Because…”
“I used to be in a band myself.”
“And Deok-cheol couldn’t stop praising you.”
“I… see.”
“Thank you.”
The student accepted the business card.
But he didn’t seem particularly interested.
“Can I ask how you’re planning to promote your band?”
He knew he was probably overstepping.
But the current band scene had become painfully stagnant.
What worried him was seeing someone this talented crushed after discovering how harsh reality really was.
The student’s answer was simple.
“We haven’t even finished recruiting all the members yet.”
“Still…”
“Thank you for your kindness.”
For some reason…
This life seemed to attract middle-aged men.
I knew there were plenty of people from older generations who still carried nostalgia for rock music…
But it felt strangely similar to a Pokémon game.
Like meeting a new Gym Leader every time I entered another town.
Interestingly…
Both of them had asked me the same question.
“In a band market that’s practically dead… what exactly are you trying to achieve?”
