Debut or Die-Chapter 331
In Kim Rae-bin’s encouragement-only mountain retreat composition camp, the feedback was limited strictly to praise.
So even if a beginner fumbled a bit, everyone would just laugh it off. After all, it was supposed to be a fun getaway.
But when it’s “work,” everything changes.
Let’s look at the tentative suggestion Bae Sejin dared to offer.
“...Um, anyway, the song that won the grand prize was ‘Promise.’ So what if we use that as our base and make a series out of it?”
“That’s a perfectly reasonable proposal!”
You might think the feedback ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) would end on that warm note, but no.
“Sure. Pushing the top-performing song makes sense. But its response overseas was nothing special.”
“R-Really?”
“Exactly. I feel like overseas audiences would prefer something intense, like ‘Drill’.”
“I agree—I’m against it!”
In an instant, his idea was shredded without mercy.
“...Fine. Then we can just cancel it!”
“I actually liked it. Too bad, Sejin.”
“Ahem. Okay. So, what do you all think?”
There’s no outright vilification—if the majority rejects you, you just get swept aside.
“Any fresh ideas?”
“I’ve got a unique concept! What if we emphasize machine sounds with MIDI and electric noise for a robot theme...?”
“Oooh, cheesy~~”
No, there’s even someone who openly sneers.
“Cha Yoo-jin, you haven’t contributed a single idea but you’re quick to criticize—that’s very inappropriate.”
“Ok! I’ll speak up. I like transform-hero themes!”
“We did that in ‘Ajusa,’ and using it in the OST would be too repetitive. Rejected.”
“Ugh....”
Feel free to mock yourself.
Anyway, most members offered some clever input—they were just quickly and tacitly dismissed for not fitting the current direction.
As a result, the brainstorming turnover was extraordinary.
“The discussion is all over the place. Let’s map it out in a chart: the concepts that got the best overseas reaction, and the core of the hero-movie OST concept.”
“Okay~ So you’re making it, Mundae?”
Naturally, the work gets delegated.
“Sorry, Mundae. I should probably learn how to do this too.”
“No problem. You’ve got plenty on your plate.”
In the end, it took us exactly half a day to distill the concept traits we should target.
Intensity (hero movie)
Uniqueness (TeSTAR)
Familiarity (American)
I didn’t even pause to breathe as I organized it.
“An intense action beat as the foundation, American-friendly, with TeSTAR’s signature uniqueness.”
“.......”
“.......”
“Wow.”
If this came down from headquarters, you’d want to beat your boss to death—but we have to do it. That’s how the arts work.
“From now on, let’s use this as our central framework... and discuss specific concepts and songs.”
“Yes...”
The savage, rapid-fire meeting ping-pong paused for a moment.
“My throat hurts...”
“Yoo-jin, from now on whisper instead of shouting—we can’t perform concerts on hoarse vocals.”
As I listened to Ryu Cheong-woo gently fact-check Cha Yoo-jin, I checked on the others.
‘Kim Rae-bin’s solid.’
He’s practically a standout. Pass.
‘Big Sejin’s got vision.’
He’s actually more capable here than at the casual retreat—excellent at filtering good ideas and shaping consensus.
‘Cha Yoo-jin brings energy.’
He voices objections bluntly but without offense, keeping the meeting going.
‘...Not a bad group.’
They’re not just spouting ideas; even under constraints, they deliver worthwhile input.
Then, when we moved into the composition phase, one member unexpectedly excelled.
It was Bae Sejin.
“...Since we’re going for an American vibe, how about borrowing metaphors from American literature?”
No one had thought of that approach.
“American literature?”
‘That feels promising.’
I immediately asked back.
“Do you have anything specific in mind?”
“I was thinking... among the classic novels, Edgar Allan Poe’s works.”
Edgar Allan Poe.
A pioneer of American mystery and horror fiction.
“The, um, the macabre stuff—so famous and distinctive....”
“Oooo.”
Encouraged by the response, Bae Sejin brightened and spoke quickly.
“You know Poe’s ‘The Black Cat,’ right? It’s chilling with a twist... That kind of uniqueness suits what TeSTAR wants.”
“...!”
“I think so too...!”
Oh.
As a well-read guy, he made a plausible symbolic suggestion.
‘Classic horror literature, huh.’
Not bad.
Kim Rae-bin’s eyes lit up.
“If it fits the concept, quoting it in the rap lyrics could be really cool. I’ll make sure to note it.”
“...Right.”
It was almost the first time Bae Sejin himself had stepped up with a producing idea.
‘Surprisingly talented.’
His face showed a stunned pride—he hadn’t expected such a warm reception.
Ryu Cheong-woo summarized with a smile.
“So, let’s go with a Hollywood-movie feel based on American classics, mixed with our own world.”
“Let’s tentatively adopt that production direction.”
I rubbed my chin.
Honestly, it still felt... incomplete.
‘Something’s missing.’
But at least we’d sketched a direction.
‘We can refine it alongside the actual OST work.’
The real aim of this camp wasn’t to churn out a high-quality product immediately.
It was more about assessing and encouraging each member’s producing ability.
‘We wanted to see if the label could run smoothly.’
Now the group was halfway to standing on its own.
‘As an independent label, decision-making power increases—some will need an adjustment period.’
And so far, most members had done well—talkative and cooperative.
‘Ryu Cheong-woo’s got talent for coordination.’
I’d given almost everyone a passing grade.
But looking around, one person remained.
“.......”
“Seon Ah-hyun.”
“Uh...!”
The guy who’d mostly just nodded all day lifted his head.
“I’m curious what you think of the proposals so far.”
“Uh... I think everyone’s suggestions are, um, good...!”
“What parts, specifically?”
Seon Ah-hyun flinched but answered slowly.
“The Hollywood movie thing is... very mainstream and cool. Adding the depth of classic literature makes it even better, I think....”
“...Right.”
Yes. When you ask him one by one, he gives decent feedback.
The problem is... his real-time performance—vital for work—doesn’t materialize.
‘He can’t speak up.’
Seon Ah-hyun is great at conveying assigned tasks, but he’s weak on original ideas.
And unless it’s a moral issue, even if he disagrees, he won’t argue.
His consideration leads him to step back and listen, but he misses the chance to interject.
In short, in this context he just adds a vote to the majority.
He knows it too.
– Hyung! Any thoughts?
– I, I... not yet.
– Hmm~ OK.
– ......
After that exchange with Cha Yoo-jin, Seon Ah-hyun dropped his head.
I sat beside him.
“Take your time. It’s okay.”
“...Mm.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded.
That was actually good.
‘He’s got some pride.’
He feels a strange competitiveness over his weaknesses. There’s room to grow....
“Hey, why so quiet?”
“...!”
Big Sejin chimed in with a laugh.
“Ah~ Mun-dae scolded Ah-hyun for not giving many ideas, right?”
“....”
“N-No!”
Seon Ah-hyun reacted a beat too late. He must have realized.
“Aw, don’t worry about it—so many people here are great at producing. Just enjoy it, Ah-hyun!”
Of course, those words didn’t comfort Seon Ah-hyun.
“There’ll be a moment when I have to do it myself, too....”
Big Sejin smiled slyly.
“Then Mun-dae will help you!”
“...!”
“Mun-dae won’t produce your solo later?”
“M-My solo??”
“Yeah! Someday we’ll all do units or solos~”
He skillfully omitted the sad “when the others go to the military” part.
I couldn’t help a small laugh.
“If you want, of course I’ll do it.”
“...!”
“See? You can relax now.”
“Okay.”
Seon Ah-hyun gave a faint smile, then got up looking much more at ease.
“Th-Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Judging by his eyes, his will to try hadn’t died—he just felt more comfortable.
“I’m heading in. Check it later.”
“Okay.”
“It was nice working with you, Ah-hyun—see you tomorrow~”
The camp felt like it was wrapping up; a few had already left.
Seon Ah-hyun followed them into the suite’s living room, lost in thought.
“.......”
Big Sejin stayed silent until Seon Ah-hyun disappeared.
Then he suddenly spoke.
“You really look out for Ah-hyun, every time.”
“We’re members.”
“Hm~ Right?”
Big Sejin added in a casual tone.
“Mun-dae, you know Ah-hyun really shines once he starts producing and preparing, right?”
I know. He just needs nurturing.
“Instead of worrying about a peer, let’s stay focused on ourselves~”
“Sure.”
Actually, you’re all younger than me. I endured Big Sejin’s laugh and shoulder tap.
‘This guy’s still in good shape.’
His stamina’s intact—if I retort now, I’ll regret it.
I decided to look for a moment to share my own “situation” again tomorrow as I stood up.
“Where are you going?”
“The bathroom.”
I’d just gotten an unexpected message on my phone.
[Your concert was amazing, the best everㅠㅠ]
“.......”
It’s Keun-dal.
[Are you touring nearby?]
[Yes! Since it’s in the neighboring country, I made time on the weekend and it was the best healing ever...]
Right—he’s loaded enough to fly first class everywhere.
I shrugged as I estimated his fortune—it’s his business as long as he doesn’t get scammed.
But another text arrived immediately.
[Is video call okay? I have something I want to check.]
Huh.
Something must be up.
[Sure. One sec.]
[Yes!!]
I walked into the small room where Ryu Geonwoo was typing on his laptop.
“Hey, I’m about to video-call Hyung.”
“Mm, okay.”
I’d considered booking a new room for the call, but that might look suspicious. This suite was my room.
He’d cut off anyone else poking their head in.
‘It’s reassuring to have someone I know here.’
“I’ll introduce you if you want.”
“Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
I called Keun-dal on video. The moment it rang, he picked up.
“Hello!”
“...Hyung, you keep calling me ‘Hyung.’”
“Ah, sorry... Are you outside?”
“Yes.”
No more surprise mishaps this time.
“You been well?”
“Of course.”
Keun-dal immediately corrected his tone, and I finally asked how he was before getting to the point.
“So why did you want to call...?”
Just then, Ryu Cheong-woo called from behind me.
“Mun-dae?”
He’d said I could introduce him, so why ask again?
“No, it’s just... Sejin said he wants to say hi too.”
“...!”
“K-pop member Sejin, not my brother Sejin.”
When I turned, I saw Bae Sejin standing nervously behind the door.
Ryu Cheong-woo looked a bit flustered.
“He says he knows you... Is that right?”
This is driving me crazy.
I looked at Bae Sejin. He cleared his throat.
“Well... I guess you guys video-call often. I thought I’d say hello too....”
“...Um, sure.”
If I’d agreed casually here, he’d just keep up the pointless lie. I racked my brain for a way to end this absurd situation.
Then—
“What are you all doing in there... Hmm?”
Big Sejin approached, spotting three of us huddled at the door.
I immediately hit “end call.”
Ding.
“Park Mundae, you were on a call!”
“Ah.”
Bae Sejin jumped as if he’d made a mistake. Big Sejin laughed awkwardly.
“You were on a call? I thought you went to the bathroom.”
“I just got a message from someone I know.”
“Really?”
Big Sejin glanced between Ryu Cheong-woo and Bae Sejin, then shrugged.
“...So you all know each other?”
“Ah... He’s someone who helped me when I was younger.”
“Ahhh~ I see.”
“You know, Mundae’s been looking for someone since last year. That... um.”
Bae Sejin caught the vibe and fell silent.
‘Damn.’
He’d assumed Big Sejin knew and started to speak, then realized he was wrong—worse than saying nothing at all.
“Anyway, it turned out I know him a bit too....”
“Ah... Okay.”
“.......”
Big Sejin fell silent. An inexplicable awkwardness hung between the doors.
“...Shall we go rest? This is Mundae’s room, after all.”
“Y-Yeah.”
Bae Sejin looked at me as if he’d erred, but when I shook my head, he closed his mouth and followed Ryu Cheong-woo out.
“Sejin, you too—come on in.”
“.......”
Instead of replying to Ryu Cheong-woo, Big Sejin rubbed his own shoulder.
A moment later, as if about to turn and leave, he suddenly spoke.
“Isn’t this... a bit much?”
“...!”
His voice trembled with emotion.
“I’ve... I don’t know how many times, everyone seems to know except me.”
Fuck.
It was understandable he felt that way.
“No, not everyone knows. It’s not that kind of thing. The situation before was....”
“Then why, if it’s hard to explain, does everyone know? Even that guy now....”
Big Sejin seemed to bite back the next words. Then he fell silent.
“.......”
‘Speak up.’
I summoned the words I’d been holding back, and opened my mouth as calmly as I could.
“So....”
“Park Mundae, you just freeze in these situations—aren’t you even sorry to me?”
“...!”
The words slipped out reflexively.
“No, I am.”
“Really? But....”
Big Sejin opened his mouth as if to snap at me, then... closed it again.
“...Let’s talk later, okay?”
“Wait. You....”
“Later.”
Big Sejin murmured to himself in an oddly not-angry tone, then burst through the door.
Bang.
He left so fast I could hear the front door slam.
From the hallway, I heard Bae Sejin whisper.
“...Sorry.”
“.......”
We’re screwed.
