From A Producer To A Global Superstar-Chapter 337: Seojun.
The day after Busan did not feel like a "next day."
It felt like a continuation of the same storm, only louder, and faster, because now the hype had proof. People had seen Dayo pull a stranger onto a stadium stage and call him talented in front of the whole country. They had seen him say the words out loud. Welcome to JD Label.
And by morning, the label made it official.
A clean announcement dropped. No long speech. Just confirmation, a photo, a signature thumbnail blurred at the corner, and one line that turned the internet upside down again.
"Seojun has signed with JD Label."
The post did not even sit for five minutes before it started collecting translations in different languages, reposted with screaming emojis, reposted with disbelief, reposted with arguments.
Because now it was real.
Not a show. Not a stunt. Not a soft "we’ll see." Real.
They did the legal work immediately.
Jang-Wook did not allow time to breathe. Contracts. Identification. NDAs. Media protection. Travel clearance. Basic clauses that protected Seojun from the kind of industry people that would try to swallow a boy whole just because he had one viral moment.
Seojun sat through it all like he was inside someone else’s dream.
He kept looking at the paper like it might melt.
He kept looking at Dayo like he might wake up and find out he hallucinated the entire stadium.
When the signatures were done and the folder was closed, Seojun finally spoke, voice rough from lack of sleep and too much emotion.
"I... I really signed?"
Min-Jae leaned back in his chair like this was normal life and nodded. "You signed."
Seojun blinked. Then blinked again.
He looked like he wanted to laugh, but it came out as a breath that shook.
"I came to watch," he whispered. "I just came to watch you. Both of you."
He glanced at Min-Jae like he was looking at a poster he grew up with.
"I have been a fan since... since I was young. I can’t even count it. I used to copy your guitar clips. I used to pause them and rewind until my fingers bled."
Min-Jae’s expression softened, just a little.
"You should have posted your own clips," Min-Jae said. "That talent should not stay in a room."
Seojun’s throat moved. He swallowed hard, fighting tears like he was ashamed of them.
"I didn’t think I was good enough," he admitted. "And my life is not... my life is not built for big things."
Dayo watched him quietly.
The rawness was obvious. The shock. The disbelief. The way Seojun’s hands kept rubbing together like he was trying to make sure he was still real.
Dayo said, calm as always, "Big things don’t wait for you to feel ready. They just happen. And you either step into them or you spend your life regretting that you ran away."
Seojun’s eyes turned red fast. He nodded like that sentence hit a part of him that had been hiding for years.
Then his voice cracked.
"Thank you."
It was not a polished thank you.
It was not celebrity gratitude.
It was the thank you of a boy who had been carrying a quiet dream and suddenly found it standing in front of him wearing a contract.
Seojun could still remember when he started following Dayo and Min-Jae that was about five years ago he had seen their duo and become a fanboy and practiced their songs like like it was a do or die.
And now being under the very people that he admire was a dream come true just thinking about his life before today.
He had been a struggling graduate that loved music and pursued it buy never put himself out there he used his last cash to get to the tour but now his life has changw forever.
Jang-Wook clapped his hands once, brisk and practical.
"Good. You’re officially on the roster. Now pack your bag."
Seojun froze in shock. "Pack?"
Min-Jae smiled. "You’re coming with us."
Seojun’s face went blank.
"With you... to the next show?"
Dayo nodded once. "You were signed in Busan. Korea needs to see you again. Not as a fan. As an artist."
That sentence alone almost dropped him back into tears.
He stood up too fast, bowing like his whole body was on autopilot.
"Yes. Yes, I will. I will."
They left Busan the same day.
The crew moved like a machine now. The artists Dayo added to the tour roster were already traveling with them, the movie cast too, because the mini tour was not just music, it was an event. A moving celebration. A rolling wave.
And Seojun sat on the plane with his seatbelt on, staring at his hands like he was still trying to understand how those hands were now worth a contract.
He barely spoke the whole flight.
He only kept whispering to himself, too low for anyone to hear.
"Is this even possible?"
When they landed in Seoul, the answer hit him before he even stepped out.
Because the airport was packed.
Not just packed.
Packed the way airports looked when a world-class idol landed, not a "foreign guest," but a headline. Cameras. Fans holding banners. People screaming names so loud it echoed off the ceiling.
Some screamed Dayo.
Some screamed Min-Jae.
Some screamed the movie title.
And then—like the internet had spread the story faster than any official press—some people screamed a name Seojun wasn’t ready to hear.
"SEOJUN!"
He froze.
His head snapped toward the sound like his body did not believe it.
A girl at the front was waving her phone with his face already on the screen.
"SEOJUN! YOU DID SO WELL!"
Seojun’s mouth opened but no sound came out.
His eyes turned glassy he felt seen after forever like a newborn calf seeing the sky for the very first time.
Min-Jae leaned slightly closer, voice low. "This is what happens when you step out."
Seojun nodded, blinking hard.
He walked like someone walking on new legs he felt a new fresh air that he never imagine.
They moved straight into rehearsals, soundcheck, venue checks, security briefings.
Seoul was not Busan, but it had the same hunger.
And when the show started, the crowd energy did not dip.
If anything, it sharpened.
The moment Dayo mentioned Busan, the stadium screamed.
The moment Min-Jae walked out, the stadium screamed.
And when Seojun finally appeared on stage, holding his guitar with shaking hands, the stadium screamed again, not because they knew him fully, but because they loved the story the story of reaching that peak that we all want to.
They loved that it happened live.
They loved that it wasn’t manufactured.
Seojun played like his life depended on it.
Not perfect.
Not polished.
But raw and honest and hungry.
The kind of performance that made people say, "I saw him before he blew."
After Seoul, they went to Incheon.
A smaller stop compared to the first two, but the same fever followed them.
The same pattern repeated.
Tickets sold fast. Merch lines stretched. People came holding Train to Busan tickets like souvenirs, holding Dayo’s album like a passport stamp, holding phones like they were trying to capture proof that the world was really moving this way.
And by the time Korea was finally rounding up, the numbers were no longer "good."
They were ridiculous.
Jang-Wook sat in the hotel lounge that night with receipts and reports, and he read it out loud so Seojun could hear it too, because now Seojun was part of this wave whether he understood it or not.
BUSAN — Albums sold: 48,600 physical copies
That included the post-show signing rush and the outside-screen crowd buying merch like consolation.
SEOUL — Albums sold: 72,400 physical copies
Seoul moved like a capital should, and the signing line looked endless. People bought two, three, some even five copies, just to get different signatures.
INCHEON — Albums sold: 39,800 physical copies
Smaller venue, but insane conversion rate. Almost everyone who entered left with a copy.
Jang-Wook tapped the summary line at the bottom.
"Korea totals," he said, voice tight like even he didn’t believe it.
TOTAL KOREA PHYSICAL ALBUMS SOLD (Mini Tour Run): 160,800 copies
Seojun stared at that number like it was a foreign language.
"One hundred and..." he whispered.
Min-Jae nodded. "And sixty thousand."
Seojun’s breathing turned uneven.
He looked at Dayo slowly. "This is... because of you."
Dayo did not deny it. He didn’t accept it fully either.
He just said, "It’s because people want something to believe in. Right now, they believe in this."
Seojun lowered his head, trying to hide the way his shoulders trembled.
Dayo smiled at him and said. "You can make such numbers if you put the work."
Seojun went blank without even having anything to say the thought of the number was what occupied his mind till the next morning.
The next morning, Korea would be officially done.
Then the next announcement would come.
China.
Japan.
And the final stop the Americans had been begging for.
But for tonight, in the quiet between chaos, Seojun lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, whispering the same sentence again, softer this time, like he was finally allowing himself to accept it.
"This is real."
