Top Star By Luck [EN]: Chapter 174

174. The Composer

A high-end car glided along quietly.

A man in the passenger seat muttered to himself.

“Things have gotten a bit complicated.”

Even in his brief grumble, his voice resonated with a commanding tone.

A voice that would make anyone turn around the moment they heard it.

But even more famous than his voice were the sounds he had crafted over the past decades.

How many Koreans wouldn’t recognize this man’s sounds?

[The sound of raindrops on the eaves fills my throat, as willow branches sway in a heart that won’t turn back.]

On TV.

[The tightening tension becomes a point, heading towards you from the corner. Like Rachmaninoff’s Cello Sonata.]

On the streets.

[Vroom, vroom, vrrrroooom. My heartbeat, vroom, vroom, vrrrroooom.]

In cafes, restaurants, and even in this very car, this man’s sounds echoed.

Once a hit singer-songwriter, he transitioned to a full-time composer, achieving even greater success.

“Hoo.”

Son Hee-jeong, the composer who boasted the highest royalties in Korea, was precisely that kind of person.

Someone called a representative composer of Korea. Seeing this star behind the stars looking so listless, his manager, who was behind the wheel, smiled gently.

“It’s not every day I get to see Hee-jeong complaining like this.”

“I’m only human. Nothing particularly special about me.”

“You’re too modest. If you’re not special, how many special people are there in Korea?”

Well, he was special, indeed.

But this time, the situation was a bit different.

‘Not just Korea, but America of all places.’

America, where all the hotshots of the music industry gathered, especially Billboard, and at the very top, there was someone.

William Lockhart.

A man who it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say had his name emblazoned on a page of the history of commercial music, not just in America, but on the entire planet.

‘William Lockhart.’

His job now was to receive Lockhart’s new songs and appropriately tweak them to fit the scenes in the movie.

“Ugh.”

Son Hee-jeong groaned, sensing that things wouldn’t be easy.

“I accepted it, but now I’ve got a headache.”

“Isn’t arranging what you do best?”

That wasn’t wrong.

Who was Son Hee-jeong? He had arranged hundreds, even thousands of songs. Even hearing a single sound, countless plausible arrangements would come to mind.

The moment he heard the name William Lockhart, he accepted without a moment’s hesitation, thinking he could definitely do it.

“Just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean you can always do it well.”

Yeah, if he had known where the song would be used, he would have hesitated, even for a moment.

“I could understand if it was for some unknown rookie singer, but to have me arrange it to fit actor Lee Min-ki, that’s insane!”

The problem was that the other party was Lee Min-ki.

Son Hee-jeong pressed his temples, as if trying to soothe his throbbing forehead.

“He’s never even sung a song before, and they’re using him as the performer for the movie’s OST [original soundtrack]? That’s ridiculous. And they want me to arrange it?”

Son Hee-jeong groaned as if facing the riddle of the Sphinx, and his manager asked, looking puzzled.

“Haven’t you taken on similar jobs several times before?”

“I have.”

“You’ve even given songs to tone-deaf people. And they ended up selling well on variety shows.”

“They sold well.”

“See? I don’t see why it wouldn’t work with Lee Min-ki…”

The manager’s words weren’t entirely wrong.

He could arrange it. It would be easy, if anything.

But this time, the material was poor, while the demands for the result were extraordinary.

“They want me to create a global hit, that’s what they’re saying.”

Since the whole world would be listening, the pressure was immense.

To refine a novice’s song to a level that anyone in the world would find plausible? It was insane.

Clutching his burning face, Son Hee-jeong muttered.

“‘Holding a poisoned chalice’ must have been about me. No, ‘biting into a poisoned apple’ would be more accurate.”

The manager, who was getting tired of the hours-long complaining, chuckled and said.

“You never know. He might be better than most professionals.”

“I wish, but I heard he only started vocal training a little over a month ago, with no prior singing experience.”

“Sometimes there are talented people. People who do well even after learning for a short time.”

“That’s usually the bluster of musicians with shit for brains. Those desperate to look like geniuses, inflating their worth.”

“Haha…”

Behind the manager’s strained laughter, a voice full of complaints continued.

“They always do that, pretending they didn’t learn when they did. Pretending it’s their first time after doing it as a hobby for over a decade. Pretending a job that took hundreds of hours was finished in minutes. There are too many guys in this industry desperate to be called geniuses.”

Come to think of it, maybe those guys would be better.

They’re annoying enough that you wouldn’t want to talk to them, but at least they’re skilled. Unlike someone like Lee Min-ki, who’s starting from the very bottom.

“I might have to take a month off soon due to some unavoidable problem with my semicircular canals [inner ear structures responsible for balance].”

He was getting tired of complaining.

The manager, who had been listening silently, rolled his eyes and cautiously opened his mouth, as if testing the waters.

“Your slump, it’s not over yet, is it?”

“…”

The moment that word came out, Son Hee-jeong, who had been talking non-stop, closed his mouth and blinked for a moment before saying.

“It’s just a block in my inspiration. I’ve had it countless times while making a living. It’ll pass soon.”

“I hope so.”

“Doing something new might help. The world needs more challenges.”

He spoke as if it were nothing, but that wasn’t the case.

It had already been 100 days since Son Hee-jeong had stopped composing.

His mind was blank, he had lost inspiration and confidence in his work, and only the methodology remained.

“You didn’t sleep yesterday either, did you? Get some rest, even if it’s just for a bit.”

“Okay.”

And so, amidst everyone’s lack of expectations, the luxury limousine smoothly sped down the road.

Towards Lee Min-ki, the actor who was becoming Korea’s highest-paid.

* * *

‘This is crazy.’

Lee Min-ki cried out.

In the studio, he cried out as if he didn’t care that people were focusing on him.

“It’s Son Hee-jeong! Son Hee-jeong!”

“Actor, please calm down.”

“No, how can I calm down in this situation? Director, Son Hee-jeong said he’d help me make my song?!”

Lee Min-ki roared like a silverback gorilla in an excited voice.

“Isn’t this a great honor? For someone like me to have this kind of luck.”

“… Strictly speaking, it might be even luckier for Son Hee-jeong than for you, Actor.”

“Hey, watch your tongue.”

Lee Min-ki didn’t realize he was being rude to the director.

But this time, he really couldn’t help it.

Because.

‘If it weren’t for Son Hee-jeong, I would have given up acting several times by now.’

His music had sustained Lee Min-ki’s spirit during his past life as an unknown actor.

‘Whenever I had a hard time, I held onto my heart by listening to Son Hee-jeong’s songs.’

Son Hee-jeong’s songs had hope. They had positivity. They had a hymn to humanity. They had a rainbow after the rain.

Lee Min-ki loved Son Hee-jeong’s music and, moreover, respected him.

And now, such a person was willing to help him with this project. If he didn’t rejoice at a time like this, when would he?

“Hehe, I’ve only ever heard Son Hee-jeong’s songs on the charts, I never thought the day would come when I’d receive one directly.”

Joo Ha-na smiled gently at Lee Min-ki’s voice, which was overflowing with pure joy that he couldn’t hide.

“Strictly speaking, it will be in the form of Son Hee-jeong refining William Lockhart’s song to fit your voice, Actor.”

That’s right.

This composition would proceed in a thoroughly collaborative form.

Originally, they were planning to touch William Lockhart’s song as little as possible and sing it as is, but the plan had changed slightly.

[If they’re talented, they can solve the pronunciation problem in a short period of time. But singing isn’t just about pronunciation. It’s a completely different story.]

Lee Min-ki encountered obstacles in the process of learning to sing, not just pronounce.

Pronunciation had answers that could be found by groping around with luck. But singing was different.

[To give an example with a picture, pronunciation is paint, and singing is a painting. There is a right way to mix paints, but there is no right way to express them.]

Singing had parts that required time.

In the first place, even amateur singers spend at least a dozen years building up their expressiveness. How could an actor catch up in a month or two?

So, Maiar Pictures came up with this method.

[If we find someone who can coach them on the expression and entrust them with the arrangement, it might work.]

Instead of fitting Lee Min-ki to the song, they would fit the song to Lee Min-ki.

It was practically a bespoke suit.

And the person they were introduced to was Son Hee-jeong. A composer who knew everything best when it came to composition in Korea.

“Son Hee-jeong.”

It also happened to be Lee Min-ki’s favorite composer.

“Ha-na, I didn’t know much about composing, but I heard that Son Hee-jeong? Singer? Composer? That person coaches idols from the beginning when they release songs.”

That was what they commonly called producing.

Son Hee-jeong had accepted the job of being Lee Min-ki’s exclusive producer for this project.

“You’re lucky, Min-ki. For someone of that caliber to accept right away.”

“I know, right? I was worried he’d refuse because he was busy.”

He was lucky.

He happened to be on a break. When they mentioned arranging William Lockhart’s song, he accepted right away.

That’s what Director Seo Jeong-woo said.

It seemed like a lot was omitted in the middle, but salespeople usually enjoy omitting process explanations.

Since he accepted, everything should be fine, right? What’s done is done.

“Actor, I understand you’re happy.”

Director Sim Seong-bo chuckled and said.

“But since you’re an actor, you know that acting comes first, right?”