Siblings Working in Business (161)
“One hour.”
Payoff tilted his head.
“I’ll recreate Payoff’s song exactly as it is.”
As if taking the bait, Payoff’s brow furrowed.
He chuckled and crossed his legs, as if to say, Go ahead, try if you can.
Sitting like that usually exuded a certain aura of confidence. However…
With Payoff, the sight of his bony ankles peeking out from his trouser cuffs only evoked a sense of pity.
So, feeling a pang of sympathy, Eun-ji added,
“Including the meaning behind the dissonance.”
If you don’t understand, I’ll show you through music.
“Y-you’re going to create a song in an hour?”
Even if it was just recreating and modifying…
One hour was impossible.
Absolutely impossible.
Payoff’s appalled reaction was exactly what Eun-ji wanted, and she smiled brightly, stretching luxuriously.
Then, with practiced ease, she started working on the music program, as if becoming one with the monitor.
Unformed sounds bounced from the large, high-quality speakers, lacking a proper rhythm.
About 10 minutes passed…
Eun-ji had already found all the virtual instruments used in Payoff’s song and replicated the distorted sounds.
Payoff, who had challenged her, slowly closed his mouth, speechless.
The music coming from the speakers was taking shape, becoming almost identical to the song he had brought.
‘Hear that?’
Eun-ji swiveled her chair towards Payoff and nodded.
Anyone with ears could tell.
Payoff shuddered, overcome by a sense of defeat.
‘Th-three weeks I spent on this song…’
The actual work hadn’t taken that long.
But since the person he was presenting it to was none other than ‘Lee Eun-ji,’ he had put in extra effort.
Lee Eun-ji, who had a massive fanbase that would swarm in and dominate the music charts, praising her like a cult, whenever she released something.
Although it might seem natural, Payoff’s nervousness stemmed from a different reason.
Eun-ji didn’t appear on TV often.
It was because CEO Park and Eun-ho tried to prevent it due to her rough language.
Yet, she had built a huge fanbase solely through her music.
This song… was meant to impress Lee Eun-ji.
It was a song Payoff had poured three weeks of his life into, tearing his hair out.
But the song he had painstakingly crafted was criticized for its ‘dissonance.’
And just then, his manager, who had gone to get drinks, returned.
Eun-ji’s manager, seemingly bewildered by the sudden recording setup, tilted his head.
And when Payoff’s song was fully recreated…
“She’s not the type to make such a crappy song…”
The manager murmured, looking at Eun-ji as if questioning her sincerity.
Eun-ji didn’t hear him, but Payoff did.
‘Crappy,’ ‘dissonance.’
‘That inexperienced brat, yeah, let’s see how good she really is.’
Payoff gritted his teeth.
Eun-ji gave a short, pointed nod, as if asking, See?, and immediately began dismantling and rearranging the recreated song.
Of course, she put on her headphones this time.
‘It wouldn’t be fun if he knew beforehand.’
She decisively deleted and separated the numerous dissonant notes that filled the screen and pulled the microphone closer.
It was to re-record the potentially usable melodies she extracted from the dissonance.
The recording started, and the previously noisy, dissonant melody was replaced by Eun-ji’s captivating deep voice.
After the recording, she didn’t do much editing, just adding reverb to smoothly connect the different parts of the song.
Payoff watched her, tilting his head curiously.
When she was done, he looked at the clock. Exactly one hour had passed, as expected.
30 minutes were spent finding and recreating the virtual instruments and distorted sounds Payoff used.
Another 10 minutes were spent replicating Payoff’s song.
And the remaining 20 minutes were used to modify Payoff’s song.
In other words, she only spent 30 minutes actually creating the song.
Perhaps because of the unbelievably short time, even though he had witnessed it himself…
Payoff’s face crumpled even further.
“Bullshit. What kind of song can you write in 30 minutes?”
“Haha.”
“Does this punk think composing is child’s play?”
“…”
Payoff muttered loud enough for her to hear.
And as he intended, she heard it clearly.
Eun-ji turned her chair and looked at Payoff.
Payoff, meeting her gaze, was momentarily speechless.
“You know, Payoff, want to make a bet?”
Bets with Lee Eun-ho were usually jokes.
Playful banter, where even if Eun-ho won, they would laugh and joke about it.
But this was different.
Composing was her life.
Just as she expressed her thoughts through music, composing was a crucial part of who she was.
Eun-ji smiled at Payoff.
“What kind of bet?”
It wasn’t the fake, mask-like smile she used to imitate Eun-ho, nor her usual playful grin.
It was a relaxed smile that exuded confidence.
However, her light brown eyes, staring at Payoff, held a chilling glint.
Payoff gulped nervously at Eun-ji’s strange smile.
“How about betting your song?”
“Ha! Bet my song? Are you crazy? Why would I? What’s in it for me?”
Payoff’s outburst earned him a sharp glare from his manager, who had been quietly observing.
Eun-ji was a precious asset to NRY Entertainment.
So they couldn’t help but be sensitive about matters concerning her.
Payoff, seemingly intimidated by the manager but not by Eun-ji, noticeably avoided his gaze.
“It’s okay, Oppa.”
“…”
Eun-ji raised her hand to stop her manager.
“I’ll take the fall.”
“Ha, Eun-ji, that’s why we’re trying to step in…”
Eun-ji was a treasure.
To be precise, a treasure that could explode and destroy everything if the password was entered incorrectly even once…
The manager sighed and rubbed his face at Eun-ji’s smiling remark.
Payoff looked back and forth between the manager and Eun-ji, slightly bewildered.
As Payoff was trying to grasp the situation…
Eun-ji continued talking about the bet.
“You asked what’s in it for you, right?”
“…”
“You came here to use my name.”
Eun-ji’s wide smile as she hit the nail on the head made Payoff flinch, his intentions exposed.
Payoff’s situation was as desperate as Eun-ji had guessed.
For a while now…
Soundmate, where he was a temporary member, had been giving him less work, often passing it on to others without contacting him.
His junior from college already had more hit songs than he could count on his fingers.
But he himself was stuck in the past, unable to move forward.
Perhaps it was to be expected.
Money, talent, results…
Using people or buying them drinks only worked if you had something to offer.
The meaningless expenses on alcohol and the mountain of debt that had piled up…
He had to produce results before he was crushed by his debt.
To get more work, he needed places that would accept his songs.
For that, he needed two things:
Good songs or a reputation as a famous composer.
Of course, having both would be ideal, but if it were that easy, he wouldn’t be in this situation.
He needed a hit song.
If he consistently released songs, he would eventually get one, but he didn’t have the time.
The bank loans, and especially the private loans, were suffocating him, the amounts ballooning by the day.
Thousands could turn into millions in an instant.
That’s why he needed her.
A singer who could dominate the charts the moment she released something.
In other words, ‘Lee Eun-ji,’ the top 10 killer, the chart killer, who would line up all the tracks from her albums on the charts.
Eun-ji was famous for being a music chart slayer.
She was a singer who fulfilled both of Payoff’s requirements.
And since she composed her own music, there was a low chance of his song being taken by another composer.
Besides, someone he had lent money to in the past had recently secured a position at NRY Entertainment.
It was perfect.
He thought he couldn’t ask for a better opportunity.
That was, until he faced the fierce Lee Eun-ji, who was harder to win over than he expected.
“But if the song I fix is better received, I’m releasing it under my name only.”
Payoff frowned.
She was going to steal his song.
“Why do you even want to make this bet?”
Just then…
The manager, seemingly genuinely curious, cautiously asked Eun-ji.
Eun-ji, unlike when she glared at Payoff, turned to her manager with her usual playful demeanor and replied,
“Because it’s fun.”
“Huh?”
Payoff chuckled at her audacious answer.
‘As if she could surpass the song he spent three weeks perfecting in just 30 minutes.’
Impossible.
Absolutely impossible.
Payoff was confident because he was certain.
“Fine. Let’s bet.”
Go ahead, try. Let’s do this.
As soon as Payoff agreed, Eun-ji made her proposal.
They would use O-Tube, and Eun-ji would upload both songs simultaneously to her channel, presenting them as candidates for her next release.
Since it was Eun-ji’s channel, most of the viewers would be her fans.
So, to give Payoff a fair chance, positive comments on his song would be awarded 3 extra points.
3 points out of 100 was quite generous.
Conversely, positive comments on Eun-ji’s remake wouldn’t count.
The odds were clearly in Payoff’s favor.
Eun-ji and Payoff smiled brightly, each certain of their victory.
After uploading both songs, Eun-ji turned and spoke,
“Payoff, you said creating a song in a short time is child’s play, right?”
“Yes.”
Payoff was confident, his opinion unchanged.
Eun-ji smiled leisurely at him.
“But you know, the songs you spent so much time on, how did they turn out?”
“…”
Payoff’s expression hardened.
‘You seem to underestimate how terrifying ‘child’s play’ can be. Let me teach you.’
Eun-ji gave him a pointed look.
Payoff shuddered, a chilling sensation washing over him, as if a giant snake was coiling around him.
‘You know nothing about the life I’ve lived, the struggles I’ve faced to be able to create a song in this amount of time.’
She wanted to say more, but she held back.
She wanted him to listen and judge for himself.
Whether her ability could be dismissed as mere ‘child’s play.’
“You know that, right?”
“…?”
“That the ‘children’ you speak of will eventually surpass you, the one who’s fallen behind the times.”
Eun-ji’s lips curled into a dangerous smile.
Before her manager could stop her…
Eun-ji finished her sentence and took off her headphones, playing her remake of Payoff’s song through the speakers.
Since it was just a guide, it still needed polishing.
But as the music played, Payoff felt his face go numb.
He didn’t know what expression to make, his composure gone.
“H-how…”
That was all he could manage to say, even after a long pause.
He couldn’t help but be shocked.
He had wracked his brain for three weeks, trying to perfect the music in his head.
But the woman before him, whom he considered a child, did it in a single day, no, in a mere 30 minutes.
As if she had seen inside his mind, Eun-ji created the exact feeling he had envisioned.
As the ‘cautionary tale’ he had hoped for, Payoff’s song was perfectly, horribly, executed.
“I’ve learned a lot.”
Eun-ji smiled and bowed to Payoff.