Chapter Text
Brian Kang, a rising solo artist in his late twenties, with a hundred song credits under his name and a few titles on the charts, has reached a turning point in his career:
Preparing for his last album before enlisting in the military.
The entire project was ambitious—but it had only gotten to this point because of his company’s sentiments that he might be forgotten by the time he came back from his military service. So they asked him to release an album to allow his name to remain in the radar for at least a year.
Kang Younghyun would have opposed the idea. He wasn't uncomfortable with the thought of having a smaller spotlight after his military service anyway, and he just recovered from the stress of releasing an album four months ago. He thought about it hard enough and finally saw a silver lining—what if he does try and make something truly remarkable?
So he negotiated,
“Then I'll do it on my terms. Let me work with producers I'll personally pick, allow me some creative freedom, and I'll give you the album of my entire career.”
Setting that big of an expectation, the company that learned to trust his impulsive yet astonishing work ethics naturally gave him everything he needed—the budget and artistic freedom. They let him go crazy. Afterall, anything he’d come up with during that period in his career would benefit him either way with his current reputation. To the company, he didn't have to release something monumental, he just had to do something shocking enough. To Younghyun, however, it was do or die .
The time frame was four months—but he was able to quickly draft a couple of tracks with different artists and producers on his roster in just a month.
With a number of songs enough to almost go for a full album, strangely, Younghyun wasn't yet that satisfied.
Among producers, Younghyun is known for his methodical approach in song-writing—but one of his industry secrets is that most of his lyrics surprisingly aren’t personal. Truth be told, he doesn't find enough time to experience all of the heartbreaks in the songs he writes—although many speculate it's the opposite, since all of the love songs he's ever put out were particularly relatable.
He's really just a serial workaholic.
The result of his years of experience in songwriting now allows him to write anything out of everything which should be a blessing—but he rather finds it has recently become a curse.
So the work process begins like this: a session with a producer and a bottle of liquor—usually the kind that the producer likes—and they start talking for hours. He walks out with something like a successful therapy session, a happily drunk producer, and a crazy song draft. Younghyun is the type who's told one thing and learns ten other things by himself. When he hears a breakup, he knows how exactly to position his writing to make it sound more devastating—it's a carefully curated mix and match of different stories that the owners of the heartbreaks wouldn't even know.
However, for this album specifically, no matter how devastating the stories were, it just doesn't come out as Younghyun wants it to.
“You're getting burned out— ”
His manager on the other end of the line trails off.
“—That's exactly how you were two years ago, right before you ran off to Jeju-do alone without telling me. I know you didn't want to show it, but the signs were there.”
This isn't exactly the time to get burned out. No, I'm not burned out. Younghyun gaslights himself like this all the time even when he knows it barely works. Two years ago, when he ran off to Jeju, when he wanted to quit everything—he couldn't imagine himself doing the same thing twice. So he tells himself over and over again, There's no such thing as that.
Vivid images from that time briefly flashed in his eyes as if it were just yesterday. He sighs against the humid summer air, feeling the cold air condition blow past his fringe from the grocery store up ahead.
“If there's anything I should be running off to, it's this grocery store.”
“Maybe we could reschedule your studio session today with Producer Kim? You haven't rested in a while. You need a break.”
Reschedule. He wasn't going to miss his first day working with one of his favorite producers. Younghyun knew it wasn’t possible to reschedule last-minute anyway, so he jested, “Thanks hyung-nim, but I'll go even if I don't come up with anything today. I just have to meet. The. Producer. Kim.” Younghyun motioned his free hand aggressively, thrice—briskly walking toward the alcohol section of the grocery without even having to look for it. He didn't mind the weird stares from the people around him shopping at the early hour of 8 AM.
At least today, he wasn't Brian Kang , who’s usually either in a tight-fitting suit or a highly budgeted stage outfit. He’s Kang Younghyun, wearing jeans, a plain black shirt, and prescription glasses—hair unstyled with no make-up on.
“Have you ever even met Producer Kim yourself, hyung-nim—” Younghyun continues yapping to his manager who became more like a friend to him now that he's worked with him for six years since his debut. “You haven't either. Because that guy never shows himself in public. There are no pictures of him on the internet. His instagram account is full of album covers of the songs he's worked on, random plants and flowers —that's it.”
“Might just be an introvert.” A chuckle from the other end of the line. “Or you know— dads on instagram. ”
“But it's cool. It's intriguing. Because he's an artist, not a celebrity—he might also be a dad, who knows?” Younghyun finally arrives at the section he often personally buys from. “Would a dad like Rum? No... Maybe Whiskey is better? What kind should I buy?”
For some reason, Younghyun has long ago established the idea that Producer Kim was either in his late 30s or early 40s judging by the way he composes and produces his ballad songs. "You Were Beautiful" would have been made by a person who's gone through a divorce at least once —and although it’s only an unserious thought—that's how the image of Producer Kim came to be in Younghyun's mind.
“Does he even drink? I don't think he does. I talked to a colleague the other day.”
Younghyun abruptly stops in his tracks, almost dropping the phone in his hand. If Producer Kim doesn't drink, Younghyun must be in trouble. Would there ever be a man in their 30s or 40s who doesn't drink by choice ? He couldn't believe so. He paces back and forth through a few selections of high quality whiskey—head suddenly dizzy as he read through the names and the alcohol content with furrowed brows.
“Hold on hyung-nim, let me ask someone—” Younghyun removes his phone from his ear and starts texting the other producer who gave his manager a referral to Kim's studio.
Bri: Hyung-nim, just in case, what kind of drink does PD Kim usually like?
MPD: You mean alcohol right?
MPD: That guy barely drinks.
Bri: Really?
Younghyun has never encountered this kind of situation in his career as a songwriter.
Eventually, he figures a successful man like Producer Kim must have at least tasted a beer or soju once in his life. With that in mind, he picks up a light drink—that rosé wine stood out to him almost glimmering on the shelf. The alcohol content was just fine, he didn't have to finish the entire bottle—it can sit on a shelf as decoration if Kim really didn't fancy drinking.
“I've never seen you buy something this light”
Younghyun pulls out a card from his wallet.
“The things you do as a fan.”
Kang Younghyun, who usually buys a variety of brandy, whiskey, vodka, rum—has never thought of the day he'd consider buying something as light and as pink as this.
Best Song
1
Producer Kim has worked with many popular artists despite not having appearances in the media. He’s never been on the news, but almost every song he’s been involved with has managed to make it onto various music streaming platform charts.
There seems to be something in it. Whatever it is, he can’t pinpoint—but it’s definitely different .
Younghyun might have been one of the few people who caught on to it early as soon as he heard “I'll Try” back in 2017—which Kim participated in composition and lyrics, aside from producing and arrangement. A year later, another song he participated on started charting locally, and Younghyun had only been wanting to work with him since.
But it was hard to get his number, let alone book a session. That was how today’s meeting became the highlight of his entire week, more than anything else.
Producer Kim's studio was a long drive all the way to Incheon .
When he slept in the passenger seat, he closed his eyes to a congested Seoul, and when he opened his eyes an hour and a half later, the sun was shining so bright that he had to squint to see the fields through the windows. They passed by open land, rice fields, and heritage sites. More and more small houses started to appear in what seems to be an old neighborhood.
Arriving, a tall green gate was open, as if they were already expected. After briefly parking by the sidewalk, he quickly reaches for the bottle of rose wine and a fruit basket on the backseat—both of which his manager was surprised to see him buy for the first time.
“I didn’t know this was his actual house—”
He grows more and more intrigued as he steps out of the car. Not a lot of producers invite clients to their homes. At least, most of the ones he’d worked with didn’t. Have grass always been this green? It's a little fascinating. Eyes can't help but roam around—in awe of the small plants along the sides of the gates swaying along the light, cool breeze.
Back in Seoul where buildings were densely packed, and the air felt dry and suffocating, it was rather nice to be out in the open with fresh air. He pauses on a step just a few seconds away from the car and takes it all in:
Slow, steady, natural scenery. Wind brushing against skin. A nice, dry, sunny weather. Being still.
Younghyun secretly craved things like this. Perhaps it’s because his career demands him to always be running—that days like this feel like luxury to him. But anything that is luxury to him always seems to come to an abrupt stop.
“Will you get drunk today?”
“Looking at this? I'll be painfully sober.” Younghyun lets out a chuckle before waving to his manager who’s usually left in the car. Looking at his relaxed expression, he figures he might go on a drive around the city for the meantime. “Drive safe.”
When Younghyun walked through the gate, he was greeted with a wide front yard and a cascading fountain to the right attached to a wall. The house was rather compact with a small lanai area, and the yard took over half of the entire lot. He guessed the owner of this house must love nature.
Up ahead, the house had floor-to-ceiling windows that reflected the outside, creating an illusion of a bigger space. A hanging door chime that rang to the wind every few seconds was the only thing that didn’t seem to fit the entire minimalist theme of the house.
He rings the doorbell once, and the door swings open not long after.
“Mr. Brian Kang? It’s nice to meet you. I'm Kim Wonpil.”
Called a warm gentle voice, before a slim hand flies out in front of him. He immediately reaches out to shake it in return and bows.
“Mr. Kim, pleasure meeting you—”
As Younghyun stood up straight and made eye contact, his eyes widened at the sight of a… Young man ?
Producer Kim Wonpil—whom he thought was a man in his 40s—rather looked like a guy in his mid 20s. What the hell . Maybe even younger. Younghyun caught himself gasping a little. So this was… Producer Kim Wonpil. He’s…
Handsome?
Younghyun must have lost track of space and time as he unconsciously kept looking while trying to rewire the image in his head.
There was something about him that felt strangely serene yet striking. Perhaps it was the slightly curly hair that fell just above his dark, round eyes. Or the fact that he was only a little smaller in height, slim in figure but not skinny, wearing a white oversized fluffy knit top—which contrasted his prominent eyebrows, high nose, jawline—
Beautiful might have been a better term.
“... Mr. Brian?”
The warm voice called out again, and only then Younghyun realizes he’s still holding Producer Kim's hand quite firmly. Ah. He lets go politely, wishing he wasn't just caught staring. Neck warming up in embarrassment, he bows his head slightly.
“Sorry—”
If Producer Kim was this… Why hasn't anyone ever told him? He must have not been the only one reacting this way.
It wasn't like Brian didn't meet pretty people in his field of work. In fact he did, all the time . Perhaps he was just shocked by the fact that the producer he had been looking up to for a long time—the one who made those heartbreaking tracks—wasn't the shabby 40 year-old man he imagined. I should have dressed a little more neatly. All of a sudden, he’s wondering how he looks to Producer Kim at that moment. Did I look strange just now? Do I have anything on my face or shirt? He really wished he knew but didn’t at the same time. Like it matters at all.
“No—it's fine—”
Younghyun avoids meeting his eyes, which have suddenly become too intimidating to look at. Before he knew it, words just kept pouring out of his mouth. Like he just has to explain.
“—It's just that it's my first time meeting Producer Kim like this and I didn't expect you to be—”
Younghyun swallowed nervously in the best possible timing.
He could feel the intense gaze on him—from Producer Kim who must have been waiting for answers—even when he wasn't looking. He’s used to giving compliments in the name of professionalism, but for some reason he could never compliment a person's appearance out loud and upfront if he really truly meant it. Not on the first meeting for something like… work.
“... Young?”
Producer Kim thankfully completes the sentence on his behalf. Younghyun quickly nods to agree before finally looking up.
Their eyes met for a quick second. Kim's round eyes almost disappeared. Producer Kim laughed .
“I get that a lot. I guess I do look younger than other producers. Anyway, please come inside Brian-ssi—”
He stares at the small back of Producer Kim walking inside—still feeling dazed.
It was surprisingly cute when he laughed.
It’s a thought so vague and ridiculous that he holds back a laugh. Has he ever thought of a Producer to be cute ? Those two words don’t match. When he thought of the images of making music—at least in his short career coming from a small company—it was a dark cramped room, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol, sweatpants and hoodies, cables and wires across the floor, dark circles around his eyes and overgrown stubble on his face.
This? This was nowhere near what he knew.
A smell of sweet burning wood welcomed him and grew less and less faint while he timidly followed behind Producer Kim inside toward the spacious living room. Natural light seeped through sheer white curtains that it’s bright enough to see every vibrant furniture in his house—especially the large upright piano placed on a corner to his right.
“Brian-ssi, would you like coffee or tea?” Producer Kim settles in front of his kitchen aisle. Younghyun follows and places the fruit basket on the kitchen top.
“I usually prefer alcohol,” He jests, raising the bottle of rose wine he bought. Producer Kim chuckled. Younghyun doesn't miss Kim's smile looking from the side, feeling a sense of accomplishment as he landed a joke. “Does Producer Kim drink?”
“I've heard about Brian-ssi's songwriting process. I think it's quite amazing.” Kim reaches up to open the cupboards and freezes for a bit. “... But I don't think I have wine glasses.”
Younghyun chuckles at the expression on Producer Kim. It almost looks like a lost kid’s face. He assures he doesn’t mind using anything since it’s just the two of them anyway, so Kim returns to the sofa in the living room with two mugs in his hands before gesturing for him to sit.
“Please make yourself comfortable.”
Feeling a little more comfortable, he lets his eyes roam around freely this time. Something colorful stood out at the far corner of the living room—a few children's toys which were kept in a cloth storage bin, and a small shelf filled with children's stories and coloring books. By the way everything was kept, it looks like it was just recently used. Maybe the rumors were right that Producer Kim has a family.
But as Younghyun looked at Producer Kim again, he didn't seem like a married man at all. He looked more like a college student than anything else.
Kim was now examining the pink bottle with a puzzled expression after he sat opposite him. Being fully immersed, Younghyun stood up from his seat.
“PD-nim, just a moment—”
He timidly ran back to the kitchen and took a corkscrew he spotted from the cupboard earlier. When he shuffled back, Kim was looking at him with wide eyes almost hidden under his hair. Without thinking about the rest of his features, they actually look kind of warm instead of intimidating.
He politely handed over the corkscrew, and as Kim received it with both his hands, Younghyun didn't mean to notice—
His left hand doesn't have a ring.
But he did have a small black mark that looked like a tattoo on the ring finger of his right hand.
Was he… perhaps... separated?
Younghyun mentally slapped his forehead for thinking and prying too far in Producer Kim's personal life without even being close to him yet. He must have been lost in thought when he realized Producer Kim had by now successfully opened the bottle of wine.
“You're quite observant Brian-ssi,”
Younghyun flinches on his seat.
“Producer Kim..?”
Did he catch me looking?
“I forgot I had a corkscrew in my kitchen. Thank you.”
Seeing Kim's eyes disappearing into a smile again, Younghyun caught his breath in relief.
“I guess that's why Brian-ssi is so good at writing lyrics,” Kim said. “ No, that's not true Producer Kim.” Younghyun waved his hands, failing to suppress the smile creeping up on his face. He's honestly feeling all conflicted by himself. He was initially prepared to get scolded for being nosy, but he received a compliment instead.
Wonpil pours a generous amount on a mug and Younghyun receives it with both hands. He's practically avoiding brushing against Kim's fingers with all his might.
“I loved all the songs in your previous album. The melodies are so nice too. It's honestly my pleasure to work with you.” Producer Kim said without ever breaking eye contact. “I'm a fan of Brian-ssi.”
Younghyun, who didn't know how to calmly react any further to such genuine compliments, suddenly bowed his head formally—both hands and feet tucked in—and spoke in a loud rookie-employee like tone, “Thank you—I'm really honestly a big fan of Producer Kim too—” To which Kim bursts into another series of laughter. “Why are you like that?” He placed a slim hand over his lips and chuckled a little more.
“I'm a little shy when I get complimented, PD-nim. I really have been a big fan of yours since 2017.”
When Producer Kim was still, he had a calm demeanor. At first glance, he looked like the type who wouldn't laugh at jokes with his intense gaze—and that’s the scariest thing in the world for Younghyun. But so far, Kim was surprisingly friendly, he took jokes rather lightly, and smiled so nicely.
“But Brian-ssi, please just call me Wonpil.”
“Then please also call me Younghyun, Wonpil hyung-nim .”
Wonpil bit his lip. Younghyun thinks he might be suppressing a smile.
“Younghyun-ssi, how old do you think I am?”
He tilts his head. “Please don't ask me to guess. You look very young.”
Wonpil is only 27—Younghyun 28. How is it possible that they're only a year apart?
“But then we're only 4 months apart?”
“We could just be casual, Wonpil-ah .”
“But there's no way I could just call you Younghyun-ah . To such a famous artist…”
Their conversation went on like that as they talked about their tenure, who’d been in the industry longer, and who should call whom hyung . None of them wanted to lose to each other's compliment battle—so they ended up just not settling the debate and rather called each other semi-formally .
“ Younghyun-ssi , let's go”
It actually feels lighter now that he confessed he was a big fan of Kim since his early career days. Somehow, he had also mentally accepted that Wonpil might just be a family man and had kids. Sometimes he wondered if his kids looked like him. Younghyun had a lot of questions, but he held it in as he followed right behind Wonpil in a room.
“Here's the studio.”
Unlike the rest of the house, this room had no windows. It's similar to the studios he knew in Seoul—only this one smelled like incense, and cables weren't strewn across the floor. A bass, electric, and acoustic guitar hung across the room, and a full-size electric keyboard in the middle, in front of a computer set-up with amplifiers attached to the corners. Neon mood lights that spread across the room, along the tables, and even in the recording booth. This felt somehow familiar to him this time.
“I guess Seoul and Incheon are the same after all,” Younghyun muttered to himself, but Wonpil looked at him with big eyes as if he caught that.
“I'm sorry but Incheon is a little better than Seoul—”
Wonpil jests with a flat expression for the first time which catches Younghyun off-guard.
“—Isn't this why you came all the way here?”
“We'll have to see, Wonpil-ssi .” He grins when his back is fully turned away from Wonpil. This guy's playful arrogance wasn't coming from nowhere at all.
A resonant piano sound pierces through the room in minor key chord progression.
I guess it is different, Younghyun thought, straightening his posture. Was it retro jazz? RNB? Younghyun tilts his head, impressed as he pulls out a pen and a notebook from his bag.
Perhaps Producer Kim is a little more different than he thought.