Becoming An Idol Wasn’T On My Plan [EN]: Chapter 255

I Didn’t Plan to Become an Idol – Episode 255

Spoiler Overload. The company, which had never seen me cause even a minor mishap, trusted me enough to allow a spoiler broadcast, yet didn’t even assign a single monitor.

It was expected, but I was still a little worried someone might come to watch. Thankfully, I’m the only member who isn’t monitored during personal W App broadcasts, along with just one other.

Anyway, as a result, melodies burst forth without any warning.

I hummed snippets while talking about various episodes from recent work with the Luminaries.

“What’s that song you’re singing, Dong-hwa?”

Good heavens.

“You don’t know it? It’s a really good song.”

I made a face as if I couldn’t believe it any more than if I’d heard Ryu Iden eats fried chicken and drinks beer while smoking. (A humorous exaggeration implying disbelief at something obvious.)

A look of disbelief at someone denying the most obvious truth, devoid of any emotion, just intense shock.

―What is it? Why don’t I know it? All I do every day is check the charts.

―????

―Tell me!

Well, this is a bit fun. Having the upper hand in a situation of information imbalance.

But that’s something for the suited folks on Wall Street to enjoy, so I have to reveal it. It would be unconscionable to do that to the fans.

“I’ll play it briefly on the recorder. It’s a song you can’t help but know. As soon as you hear it, you’ll go, ‘Ah!'”

I took out the alto recorder I had prepared in advance.

I’ve always just shown myself sitting at the keyboard, so I’ve been practicing other instruments because I felt a bit bad about that.

I have a small wish to practice even weirder instruments next time.

The comment section was filled with reactions from Luminaries puzzled by the sudden appearance of the recorder.

The recorder is accessible because it makes sound just by blowing into it, but achieving detailed performance requires considerable skill.

You need to distribute the amount of breath evenly and effectively time the pauses. You also need to determine which parts of the sound to cut off and which to continue.

“Then, I’ll play it for you.”

The unique timbre of the alto recorder fills the room.

I’m the shortest in the group, but thankfully, my hands are the second largest, so I have no trouble covering the holes.

A sudden talent show, but practice doesn’t lie, so I quickly entered performance mode.

The Luminaries, who had been listening for a while, recalled why this situation had unfolded in the first place.

I announced I would ‘spoil’ something, so they listened attentively, but after talking about ‘behind-the-scenes production’ as if preparing for the spoiler, it suddenly turned into a recorder talent show.

―So what is this?

―lololololololololol that song only Ji Dong-hwa knows

―Why is he so good lololol Why did he practice it lololol

Actually, by this point, I don’t think there’s anyone who doesn’t know this song is a spoiler.

‘Squeak—!’

A sour note came out in the middle of the well-played performance.

“I’m sorry. My recorder playing skills are lacking…”

This is roughly the range the company allowed. A plan to ‘play something a little on the recorder.’

However, ‘something’ and ‘a little’ are open to interpretation.

‘Something’ can be seen as a general term for instruments, and ‘a little’ is an adverb indicating degree, so how much is a little varies from person to person.

And it is said that the voice is the most excellent of all instruments.

“I can’t do it alone.”

Also, an orchestra, in which several instruments are bound together, is often understood as a single instrument.

“I’ll need some help.”

Therefore, in conclusion, doing acapella is within the scope the company has allowed—of course, it isn’t. How can a conversation be established if you understand it that way? There are pragmatic rules, how can you do that?—. (This section is a humorous internal monologue justifying his actions.)

As soon as I finished speaking, Chae Ha-min, who had been sitting on the floor out of sight, stood up.

“It took you long enough, Dong-hwa!”

Looking at his grinning face, do the Luminaries know that this guy is the main cause of all this?

Following him, Lee Hyun-jae, Ryu Iden, and Seok-joon also stood up. Ryu Iden, uncharacteristically, patted his back and pretended to be tired. Even though he doesn’t hurt even after standing for hours.

“Oh my, why is the treatment of elders so poor in this household!”

“The household is a bit revolutionary, elder.”

And you’re a member of our household too. Why are you pretending not to be, old man?

“Today’s Monthly Ji Dong-hwa will feature a song I wrote for member Ji Dong-hwa. Of course, not the original, but a very short, arranged version.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Ryu Iden suddenly started humming.

I shouldn’t laugh, but I feel like a hollow laugh is about to escape because I really don’t know where this W App is going.

And then the members started humming in succession.

How did this happen?

* * *

The time was back in the early days of working on a solo song—the day after Chae Ha-min’s realization—.

I declared at the breakfast table.

“I’m doing a solo song.”

“What, is it already finished?”

Our Ryu Iden, who was diligently chewing on chicken breast, leaned forward as if to pounce before I could even finish speaking, his eyes full of anticipation.

“No.”

In the first place, according to the current plan, it can never be completed.

I chewed on the fried egg that Chae Ha-min had worked hard to make with renewed determination.

…Sweet. It seems like there won’t be anyone to eat it except for me and Chae Ha-min, so I should eat diligently.

“I’m going to get the contract fee for Monthly Ji Dong-hwa.”

“…Contract fee?”

Everyone had already received a song once, so they all stopped eating.

I alone continued to chew on the sweet egg, continuing the mastication until I finished eating. I tend to chew for a long time when I eat, so the silence lasted quite a while.

“…Hyung, are you addicted to capitalism?”

Lee Hyun-jae quietly asked, squeezing into the gap.

Addicted? I’m just trying to follow social rules.

Give and take. A principle that can be seen throughout the history of all mankind, beyond capitalism.

Even if you don’t consciously calculate it, there is always something to receive when you give something.

“I did that a long time ago and didn’t even write a contract, does it apply to me?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll accept it since I’ll probably lose even if I sue you anyway.”

Ryu Iden accepted reality and crunched on his salad.

“I want to use you guys as instruments in my solo song.”

After speaking, I picked up another egg and ate it.

It’s really sweet. I don’t really like overly sweet things, but I really like moderately sweet food. How can eating a fried egg make me miss sweet potato cake?

“Instruments?”

“Yeah. Instruments. I’m going to distort your voices and use them as electronic sounds.”

The album title and Monthly Ji Dong-hwa have different goals in themselves.

When writing the album title, there are many things to coordinate, such as concepts, so there are restrictions on writing songs as I please.

However, Monthly Ji Dong-hwa literally allows me to write songs as I please.

Until now, it was in the form of gifting songs to the members, so even that wasn’t completely free, but this time it’s my song.

So it doesn’t matter if it’s not famous or popular.

However, just like the saying that you run away when given sudden freedom, I felt overwhelmed when trying to write a song that I wanted, not what others wanted. Like the question of what you will do when the group disbands.

I had a lot of worries about what kind of song could express ‘me’.

Then I came to a conclusion.

If I write a song that explains ‘me’, shouldn’t I include the voices of these beasts in it?

I plan to leave the name Blossence behind my name for the rest of my life, and even if I don’t actually do any activities, I plan to fully utilize the binding power of that name.

So it’s not a popular method, and rather a bizarre thing, but I suddenly thought in the early morning that it would be nice to make these guys into instruments and create accompaniment.

I can’t even predict what the result will be like. Acapella is boring, and I’m really going to make them into instruments.

“…Hyung-nim, I’m a little scared—.”

Seok-joon, who was eating ingot bread [a type of Korean street food] instead of rice, trembled slightly and hid behind Lee Hyun-jae. The choice not to consider the size difference stands out.

I told the members about the plan one by one.

‘A plan that I can never achieve without you guys’, a small wish to share the feeling I felt through the Resolver Office with those guys.

* * *

However, what Ji Dong-hwa gifted to the members was a strange feeling.

The best thing about Ji Dong-hwa’s producing is that it’s clear.

He chooses the sound that is easiest for him to make, finds the best-sounding one among them, and clearly requests how to sing it.

It’s so nice because it’s easy to record and it ends quickly.

However, Ji Dong-hwa’s request today was very different from usual.

“Any sound.”

“Yes?”

Lee Hyun-jae, who had come down in advance to Ji Dong-hwa’s studio while another member went to take acting classes, let out a cry.

“Any sound is fine.”

“…Any sound?”

“I’m recording even what you’re saying now.”

“…Hyung, what do you want?”

Even Seok-joon, who had been sitting on the sofa in the back waiting, turned his head away from the ingot.

Something’s weird.

Even Seok-joon, whose baseline for ‘weird’ is relatively high, thought so.

“…Is this really a recording?”

“It’s a little closer to a documentary.”

In fact, Ji Dong-hwa is also filming this scene with his personal camcorder on one side.

The height of cottage industry to satisfy the requests of fans who want a documentary, and he plans to edit it himself later.

Lee Hyun-jae stood blankly in front of the microphone with confused eyes and barely uttered a sound.

“Heuh…….”

Just a rough breath. Ji Dong-hwa stopped recording and cut the sound to save it separately.

“I like that.”

“…Hyung, are you feeling very sick?”

Wouldn’t it be better to use the hospital like me? He cautiously swallowed the rest of his words.

“Next, laugh for me.”

“…Um, hyung, this is the first time I’ve wanted to run out of hyung’s studio.”

“Then I’ll confine you for the first time in a while.”

“So I read how to untie knots today.”

“I also read how a mountaineer ties knots today.”

“…I lost because I didn’t bring a knife. What should I do?”

The two spat out words with completely expressionless faces.

Seok-joon put down his game console altogether and stared blankly at this sight.

Seok-joon was the one who witnessed Ji Dong-hwa packing a string that was difficult to cut with a small knife into his bag this morning, so he only thought to himself, ‘Even if I had brought a knife, I would have lost.’

Lee Hyun-jae sighed deeply, and Ji Dong-hwa saved the file again and wrote ‘Lee Hyun-jae sigh sound’.

He recorded everything from laughter, crying, screams, scatting with any song playing, and humming with sheet music.

He also recorded randomly selected conversations without any rules.

Ji Dong-hwa was busy classifying and organizing all these records by time and feeling.

“End, thanks for your hard work.”

Lee Hyun-jae opened the door and rushed out with exhausted steps.

It was as if he had become a stand-up comedian or an actor performing a one-person play.

He’s not even good at acting, but he was asked to cry, laugh, then get angry and depressed.

In addition, it was as if he was trying to test the limits of his vocal abilities. He was asked to perform difficult techniques that he doesn’t usually have much to do.

Lee Hyun-jae briefly thought, ‘Is this harder than recording the title?’, then sat down quietly next to Ji Dong-hwa.

“Hyung.”

“Yeah.”

“This feels like a crazy thing.”

A comfortable expression.

Lee Hyun-jae couldn’t bring himself to say that the person he respected was crazy.

“I agree.”

A simple answer.

Ji Dong-hwa answers that way even if he understands the hidden meaning.

And Seok-joon, who had been watching this scene, felt a strange sense of unease as he saw Ji Dong-hwa’s head turning.

“…Am I going in?”

“Yeah.”