Chapter 186. Welcome, It’s Your First Time Debuting, Right? (3)
I got straight to the point without any preamble.
“You submitted a song for our title track blind test, didn’t you?”
“Gah, ugh…”
“Oh dear. Disgusting.”
As Lee Doha took a long sip of iced Americano from his tumbler to calm his nerves, he suddenly spit out his coffee. I had already anticipated such a reaction, so I calmly handed him some tissues from the nearby box. Lee Doha, wiping his mouth clumsily with the tissues, looked back at me.
“…How did you know?”
“I saw your laptop. The demo file was right there on your desktop.”
“Ah.”
Only then did he remember that he had given me his laptop password a few days ago, and he let out a dumbfounded sound.
See? I told you. Why would you give me your password without thinking about what I might find?
But that wasn’t the only clue, so I leisurely drummed my fingers rhythmically on the armrest of my chair.
“And even if it wasn’t that, you wouldn’t have holed yourself up in your studio to work on a song during this busy time unless there was a reason.”
“……”
“You’re much more efficient than I give you credit for.”
During the Miro Maze days, Lee Doha had halted all other song projects except for sketching out and developing any sudden bursts of inspiration. It was much more “efficient” to focus on arranging the mission songs and preparing the performances.
And now, this guy is glued to the studio at a time when even dancing day and night isn’t enough?
There’s definitely a reason for this.
‘He probably set up a makeshift studio at the dorm during his vacation to work on a song to submit for the blind test.’
Sure, fine. If a guy who’s good at composing wants to compose, who am I to stop him?
The problem is that Lee Doha’s actions aren’t efficient at all.
After all, the overall producer of our debut album is Seo Taeil, and our company’s A&R team is well-regarded in the industry. Even Ji Suho advised us to focus on the debut itself first.
So, there’s no need for Lee Doha to strain himself like this and join the race for the debut song selection.
‘He’d be better off getting more sleep and practicing dance instead.’
I wondered how I could explain this to him so that he’d understand without any misunderstandings.
‘With someone like Seo Judan, it’s enough to coax and comfort him, but… Lee Doha isn’t going to respond to that.’
If I said something like, ‘Aren’t you overdoing it? You don’t have to push yourself so hard,’ he’d probably just reply, ‘I’m not overdoing it. It’s fine.’
Many different dialogue scenarios played out in my mind like simulations.
Then, I suddenly recalled what Lee Yugeon had said earlier.
-“He’d feel more at ease if he did that, so just leave him alone.”
-“People like you wouldn’t understand.”
-“Being a burden makes people want to run away.”
I don’t know what exactly went through that angsty Yugeon’s head when he said those things, but I, more than anyone, understood the feeling of wanting to escape from facing my own shortcomings and limitations.
Lee Doha is a much more honest and diligent person than I am, so it’s unlikely that he’s trying to run away and hide from the world like I once did…
‘He’s probably just trying to prove his worth to the team.’
Even though no one would deny that Lee Doha is an essential member of our team, he likely doesn’t see it that way. I understand better than anyone the anxiety that comes with that.
After a long period of contemplation, the only thing I said to Lee Doha was this:
“So, did you make it?”
“Huh?”
“Oh, right. You must’ve made it since you’re still working on it. So, does the company know that your song got selected?”
I leaned against the chair back, folding my arms around the headrest, and deliberately asked in a more nonchalant tone. As expected, Lee Doha looked flustered and shook his head.
“No, I submitted it under a nickname.”
“Oh, a nickname. What was it? Can I ask?”
“…Deon.”
“Oh, Deon. …Wait, Deon?”
I knew I’d heard it somewhere before. Wasn’t his laptop password something like Deon-something? Come to think of it, Deon was the stage name he used in the previous timeline as well.
‘Tying up loose ends neatly, huh.’
It felt kind of amazing how certain things inevitably happen.
Of course, the ‘Deon’ from the previous timeline was a solo rapper who eventually sold off all his equipment because he hated making music alone, while this timeline’s ‘Deon’ is just the nickname of Kairos member Lee Doha, so there’s a big difference.
I rested my chin on my arms, which were folded over the chair back.
“What does it mean, anyway? Deon. Like, dropping the ‘M’ from DEMON or something?”
“Gah, cough…”
“Oh my, that caught me off guard.”
It was just an offhand question, but Lee Doha turned beet red and started coughing as if he had choked. Seeing him like that made me feel a mix of compassion, thinking I shouldn’t pry further, and mischief, wanting to find out and tease him about it no matter what.
‘Lee Doha’s embarrassing past…? This is valuable.’
What a shame. If we’d known each other for just one more year, I’d already be teasing him with lines like, ‘Deon? How’s it going, Deon? Working hard on your project, Deon? What does Deon mean, anyway?’
If only the ink on the contract stamp had dried, I’d have already been gleeful about finding something to tease him with. But since we were still somewhat formal with each other, I held back on the jokes.
In the end, I suppressed the mischievous urge bubbling up inside me, and with great effort, maintained a gentlemanly and kind poker face, pulling out my social persona.
“Ahem, well. Anyway. Is there anything I can help with? Like being a guide vocalist or something?”
“…Guide vocalist?”
The idea seemed to tempt him, as Lee Doha’s eyes darted around. His gaze wandered toward the monitor, where his tracks were neatly lined up. After staring at the gaps between the tracks for a long time, he eventually shook his head.
“No. Then you’d know what my song is.”
“That’s even better. I could make sure your song gets picked.”
I knew what he meant, but I pretended not to and shrugged nonchalantly. I was testing the waters, waiting for his reaction.
But again, Lee Doha shook his head.
“No, then it wouldn’t mean anything.”
“……”
“If you guys don’t genuinely choose my song, then it doesn’t mean anything.”
“…Yeah. I get what you’re saying.”
Lee Doha’s conviction was clear, and the certainty he sought was evident.
I realized that, just as Lee Yugeon had said, it was a time to let Lee Doha do what he wanted to do, so I stood up from my seat.
Seeing me rise, Lee Doha seemed to think I was upset by his rejection of my offer, looking uneasy as he awkwardly stood up as well. But I didn’t bother to correct his misunderstanding as I grabbed my bag.
“Are you leaving?”
“Yeah. I’ve said everything I needed to say.”
“Oh… Okay.”
“And you’re coming with me. Home.”
“…Me?”
“Yeah. Pack your stuff, quick.”
I nodded toward the wall of the studio. Once again, Lee Doha opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Then, as if to resist, he finally managed to say…
“Why…me?”
…Wow.
Looks like our big bear is broken.
“Isn’t the blind test the day after tomorrow? You’ve already submitted the final version, right? And from the look of those tracks, there’s nothing left to fix. You’re just hanging around here because you’re anxious and want to tweak something for peace of mind.”
“No, well…”
“Remember how, two days before the college entrance exam, it was more about mental control and managing your condition than studying? It’s the same thing. Listening to the same song over and over again, fixing it again and again… Eventually, you’ll lose objectivity and end up fixing things that don’t need fixing. You heard that our debut schedule is going to be super tight, didn’t you? At the very least, you should be sleeping at home and eating properly if you want to sing, dance, or whatever. Am I wrong? Am I?”
Feel the sting of the truth bomb you’ve been dropping on me all this time, you jerk.
I deliberately didn’t give him a chance to argue and bombarded him with a rapid-fire barrage, and it seemed to have overloaded his brain. Like a broken robot, Lee Doha clammed up.
I crossed my arms decisively and nodded toward him with a stern face.
“Pack up. We’re going home.”
“…Okay.”
Elapsed time since the start of the hunt: 32 minutes and 57 seconds.
I successfully captured the target, ‘Studio Bear Lee Doha.’
Bear Hunting Mission: Clear.
* * *
When Doha and I returned to the dorm, we were greeted by Jung Siwoo, who was sitting in the living room.
“You’re back?”
“Where are the others?”
“They were all exhausted and fell asleep. We have to leave early tomorrow.”
“Why aren’t you sleeping…?”
“Oh, I was waiting for you guys and monitoring practice videos.”
Only then did I notice
the tablet PC on the table in front of Jung Siwoo. I felt a bit guilty for keeping him up.
“I also wanted to talk to you, Hajin.”
“To me?”
Ah. I must have felt like Doha earlier when he was all tense from my words.
I experienced a sense of empathy, realizing what it’s like to be on the receiving end, and obediently sat down next to Jung Siwoo. Meanwhile, Doha greeted him briefly and went to the bathroom to wash up. Now, only Siwoo and I were left in the living room.
“What did you want to talk about?”
“It’s about Yugeon and Taehyun.”
“Oh.”
So that’s what it was.
My back and shoulders, which had tensed up in anticipation, relaxed as I heard the topic, and I sank deeper into the soft couch. Jung Siwoo chuckled at the sight of me, then leaned comfortably against the opposite armrest.
“They seemed to have a bit of a fight. During the dinner after the final.”
“…At the dinner?”
“Yeah. I didn’t have much time to get the details, but… I think it’s okay to leave them alone.”
“Really?”
They were so ready to tear each other apart, and you think it’s okay to just leave them?
I couldn’t believe it, but hearing it from Jung Siwoo made me feel strangely reassured. Was it because of his face? Sure, that face could probably convince me if he said he was frying marinated chicken, not making soybean paste.
Noticing my confusion, Siwoo shrugged with a relaxed smile.
“It felt more like a marital spat.”
“Huh?”
“They didn’t seem to genuinely hate or dislike each other. Both of them seemed a bit sorry and a bit upset. They want to make up, but it’s not going well, so they’re getting more frustrated.”
“Wow, that sounds so childish just hearing about it.”
“They’re kids.”
Jung Siwoo chuckled as if he found his younger teammates adorable, then stood up from the couch.
“So, let’s just leave them be for now. Both Taehyun and Yugeon are acting out because they want to do better.”
“Well… I don’t know the details, but if you say so, I guess it’s fine.”
“What? That’s really nice of you to say.”
Jung Siwoo lightly stretched and patted my shoulder. Then, glancing toward the bathroom where Doha was still inside, he asked,
“How’s Doha doing?”
“Well, I think it’s best to leave him alone for now too. I brought him back here today because I think he needs some rest.”
“Good. Let’s just make sure he doesn’t overdo it too much and help him pace himself. When Doha gets too absorbed, he can’t seem to stop.”
It seemed that Siwoo, who had been the closest to Doha since our special class days, already had him figured out.
Truly an amazing person. By now, I wasn’t even scared of him anymore—just in awe. Honestly.
“Then I’ll head to bed first. Make sure you get some good sleep too, Hajin.”
“Yes, sir. You get some rest too.”
“Yeah, good night.”
As I bid goodnight to Jung Siwoo, who was heading back to his room, I grew more certain that he was the right person to lead Kairos. Opposite the room shared by Siwoo and Taehyun was the largest room, where the youngest members and Yugeon were likely sleeping.
“…Well, if they’re going to fight, better they do it now.”
Still, I thought I should treat them to something sweet and have a talk with them when I get the chance, and with that thought, I turned off the lights in the living room.
“Ah, whatever. It’ll work out somehow.”
What’s the worst that could happen?
* * *
And then, two days later.
At the blind test site for Kairos’ debut song.
“So, the debut song has been decided as Track A.”
“Track C is really good too, but… Track A was just too overwhelming.”
“Who’s the composer for Track C? Should we at least contact them?”
“Oh, for Track C….”
I ended up regretting the flag I had raised so carelessly.
“The composer for Track C… Ah, it’s Deon. I’m not familiar with that name.”
Lee Doha’s song was eliminated in the blind test.