The renowned singer-songwriter and CEO of RT Entertainment, Kang Beom-jun.
He was a benefactor-like figure who greatly aided me in becoming an active professional composer.
For that reason, I still vividly remember it.
—
“Director Kang.”
“Hmm? What is it?”
“Why did you decide to take me into the company back then?”
“Ah, that?”
Upon my question, Kang Beom-jun’s face inexplicably broke into a sly smile.
And he answered my question like this:
“These days, it’s rare to find aspiring composers who personally visit agencies asking for their songs to be heard. I felt a certain desperation in you.”
“Admittedly, it was a bit of an old-school method. But surely, that’s not the only reason, right?”
“Ho ho, how could it be? What was my first impression of your composition, again?”
“Uh… I seem to recall you said they were all ‘honest.'”
“Right, honest. And that, by the way, was actually a compliment.”
“…?”
Still, I never managed to ascertain from him exactly what he meant by “honest.”
Probably, I should just think that I have considerable talent for composing, and he wanted to scoop me up before anyone else did.
And…
“But putting everything else aside, there’s something you possess that’s rare among people today, isn’t there? In that sense, your goal hasn’t changed, has it?”
Without a moment’s hesitation, I nodded in response to Kang Beom-jun’s question.
As a composer, my goal—or rather, my dream—
Is for Baek Ye-rin to sing my compositions.
When I told him this for the first time, Kang Beom-jun laughed so hard that I was taken aback.
“Haha. No matter what comes of it, it’s wonderful to have such a romantic dream. To be honest, I’m curious how your romance will ultimately end.”
Of course, I could feel that his laughter carried no mockery.
Though… in the end, I suppose I showed him a rather ordinary story that didn’t quite meet his expectations.
The artist I loved so much that I wanted to collaborate with had suddenly passed away, and the song I wrote in her memory ended up being a major hit. It was a rather unremarkable tale, really.
So now, I’m thinking of rewriting that unremarkable story.
About five days had passed since I began sending daily emails to Kang Beom-jun asking for his feedback on my original compositions.
[Here’s my phone number. Please contact me as soon as possible!]
Suddenly, a reply from him arrived with his number.
Considering how busy he must be preparing for an important audition or something, I thought it was relatively quick.
In truth, it’s because it was Kang Beom-jun that I even got any kind of reply at all.
Anyway.
From the reply he sent, it felt like I had successfully passed the first hurdle.
This definitely sounded like someone wanting to meet me in person.
Still, what could it mean to want to see me face-to-face?
This reasoning applies in most situations.
It’s likely that the person finds my talent or ability so promising that they want to recruit me immediately. But just in case, they want to meet and evaluate who I am before proceeding further.
Conversely, if all goes well after the meeting, it means a fast-track offer to join.
Of course, that will absolutely not happen in my case— not even with the friendly Kang Beom-jun.
“Hello! This is Ryu Won, who contacted you.”
Tap!
The instant my cheerful greeting ended, the man standing before me dropped his phone.
Uh… I hope that modern smartphone doesn’t have a cracked screen despite its evident value.
Naturally, I couldn’t help but worry as my eyes landed on the man still standing in front of me.
More precisely, on Kang Beom-jun’s face, which looked as if he’d received some great shock.
I had somewhat anticipated this situation when I had informed him earlier in the afternoon that I’d visit the main office and received the reply that he would personally greet me.
He must be denying reality at this moment.
The fact that I’m a student…
More accurately, a middle schooler in the prime of my youth.
If that’s the case, his next reaction is fairly predictable.
Perhaps to ensure it’s truly me, the real ‘Ryu Won’ who sent the email.
“Yes, that’s me, Ryu Won. Could you tell me the title of the song you received from me today?”
“Haha… Right. At least it doesn’t seem like you’re lying.”
I followed Kang Beom-jun into RT Entertainment’s main office building for the first time in what felt like ages.
It was probably newly built, but it looked somewhat different from how I remembered it.
Still, even the unfamiliarity didn’t feel too bad.
As if heralding a new beginning.
—
“Looks like all we’ve got to drink here is Americano and mixed coffee.”
“In that case, I’ll have the mixed coffee. I don’t really like overly bitter things. By the way, what does plain Americano taste like?”
“You’ll probably think differently when you grow up.”
—Not really.
Unfortunately, my taste in the future won’t differ much from what it is now.
That’s when it happened.
“Besides your composing skills, your taste in drinks certainly confirms you’re a real middle schooler.”
Sitting across from me on the sofa, Kang Beom-jun commented as much.
He seemed to treat me more casually after we had entered the room, unlike before.
He must’ve come to terms with the situation to some extent.
Still, one word in his remark caught my attention.
Truthfully, I was curious too.
What my songs might sound like from the perspective of a professional at this point in time.
Let me casually probe.
“I was a little surprised to hear you wanted to meet me. Was it because of the songs I sent by email?”
“Hmm… I wonder if you’re really clueless or pretending to be.”
“Uh?”
“First, let me ask you one thing. What do you think of the songs you composed yourself?”
Suddenly, I found myself in the position of being questioned.
Kang Beom-jun usually feels like a friendly older brother figure, but once we transition to work-related matters, he transforms into someone different.
Just like right now, sitting across from me with a quite serious expression.
It’s also a bit troubling how to answer this question.
What do I think of my own works… right?
The question itself is difficult, and it’s not something I’ve ever seriously pondered during my life.
But seeing Kang Beom-jun sitting across from me made an idea flash into my mind.
“Honest, maybe?”
The meaning may not be entirely clear even to me, but wouldn’t Kang Beom-jun, who gave me that review when he first heard my song, perceive it differently?
And just as I expected—
“Haha! You know exactly, don’t you?”
Kang Beom-jun laughed heartily.
That laugh clearly expressed satisfaction with my response.
—
What is an “honest” song, exactly?
It was the highest compliment Kang Beom-jun, who makes a living through music, could give.
To define this, one needs to think about where the rhythm and melody that keep driving the creative process actually come from.
Kang Beom-jun believes they come from life itself.
Every life has its stories, and it’s not just filled with common, predictable tales—there are also poignant ones.
And everyone, whether they’re an artist or not, can, at least for a moment, share a resonance like a song, a story filled with personal joy, sadness, anger, and regret.
Sometimes it’s something that can’t remain unsaid, a story that has to be shared.
And when such honest stories come out, they strongly shake people’s hearts, sometimes even making them cry and laugh, creating a profound sense of emotion.
So, what if such a poignant story is expressed in the form of a song?
‘Surely, it would be a good song.’
To Kang Beom-jun, “honest” songs are exactly like that.
They stir people’s hearts effortlessly and shake their emotions, penetrating the weak spots of humans as empathic creatures.
Of course, creating such songs is not as easy as it sounds.
Most emotionally moving songs are predictable: lyrics with similar feelings, melodies sharing similar vibes, and loud high notes added for impact.
But the emotionally resonant songs created by composers producing “honest” songs are fundamentally different in some indescribable way.
Because that “something” is undefinable, most people cannot produce such songs, and Kang Beom-jun considers this to be true talent.
In that sense, the boy sitting in front of him right now was a “genius.” And not just any genius, someone fully aware of his own talent.
When he also considered that this person was only 15 years old—a middle schooler—it frightened him.
—
Kang Beom-jun, the renowned singer-songwriter and head of a rising entertainment agency in South Korea, had no choice but to gulp as he considered this.
An incredibly brilliant talent, one that made him feel embarrassed to compare himself.
The songs submitted by this boy were good enough to cause a major stir in the music industry right now. Especially the one he had listened to last, “Rewind.”
Kang Beom-jun was incredibly excited to see what kind of stories this shining talent would weave.
At the same time, he felt an urgent desire to stay close and witness the unfolding of those stories.
Looking back, perhaps he had been chosen by the boy the moment he asked for feedback.
The exact reason why the boy had specifically asked him to review his music was intriguing, but that could be unraveled as they went along…
“I’ve thoroughly listened to the songs you sent. They’re really good, not a single flaw. The harmony of instruments, the composition, the overall completeness of the songs—there’s really nothing to criticize.”
“Oh, really?”
“Listen, Ryu Won. Would you consider seriously pursuing composition under my mentorship?”
For now, he wanted to secure this boy by his side.
If that were possible, he was ready to revise all the plans he’d been drafting.
RT Entertainment’s historic first audition? Discovering and nurturing promising trainees with great talents?
Yeah, that’s fine. All good.
But let’s just move those plans slightly back for now.
“I’ll do my best to support your growth, using my name as a guarantee. Of course, I’ll also help you release the songs you’ve sent as digital music.”
“Um… thank you, but I do have some concerns too, honestly.”
The boy started contemplating the offer seriously.
That was understandable.
After all, no matter how exceptional the talent, he was still a teenager who had yet to fully grasp the ways of the world.
Especially when the suggestion involved deciding his career path—it was certainly something to ponder over.
It was the right course to allow him sufficient time for deliberation.
But…
“You mentioned about helping with the digital release of my songs, right?”
“Um, yes?”
“So, if we’re doing that, can I personally choose the singer for the recordings?”
The ensuing question felt surprisingly simple.
Of course, the choice of who performs a personally crafted piece is a crucial matter for any composer.
Especially at that age, there’s likely a particular favorite singer he wants to entrust his songs to.
The degree of difficulty would vary depending on who it was, but for Kang Beom-jun, it wouldn’t be an insurmountable demand.
He knew full well that the moment this boy’s songs were heard, the singer they sought would find it impossible to refuse the offer.
The songs the boy had created wielded such power.
“Alright, within the possible limits, I’ll do my best to hire whoever. As long as it’s not someone entirely out of reach… you know…”
“Are you really serious about that?”
At that instant, the boy’s—no, Ryu Won’s—eyes changed.
Where his gaze had been purely innocent just a moment ago, it now seemed like a predator eyeing its prey.
“I’ll do it. I’ll compose under you, Director Kang, and I’ll personally take care of getting parental consent.”
And he started accelerating at an alarming rate.
There was a chilling undertone to Ryu Won’s abrupt shift, and Kang Beom-jun quickly asked:
“Alright, wait a moment. Exactly who do you want to sing your songs?”
“Don’t worry too much. If you put in a little effort, I think you’ll be able to secure her. Or would you like to go with me and see?”
“Go together?…”
Kang Beom-jun furrowed his brow in confusion.
But it didn’t take long for his expression to shift from confusion to bewilderment.
Because…
“We just need to go to Haneul Middle School. Coincidentally, that person will be performing at their school festival in two days.”
Ryu Won’s desired singer turned out to be someone much more outrageous than Kang Beom-jun could have ever imagined.
