Chapter 26: Session(2)

Art belongs to the realm of talent.

Some may refuse to acknowledge this, but there are more who would agree.

Sehyeon was among those who agreed with the sentiment.

Because he himself was someone with “talent.”

From a young age, he had been told he was good at singing.

As he grew older, his singing would amaze everyone around him.

During high school, however, he refrained from singing in front of others.

He didn’t want to discourage them.

But when he entered an arts university, it was a whole different world.

There were many who sang better than him, and countless others who showed great potential.

He realized he had been a frog in a well.

Because of that, he worked tirelessly to sing even a little better.

To prove that he was someone with talent, he sang until his throat bled.

Through this effort, he believed he had escaped being a frog in a well.

As he attended the arts university, collaborated with friends, and experienced both scoldings and praises from professors…

He felt he had his own share of “scenes” to reflect on.

He pondered what it meant to be an amateur and what it meant to be a professional.

He also refined the mindset necessary to be a professional.

A frog facing the great ocean must decide whether to return to the well or venture toward the sea.

He was the frog who resolved not to go back to the well.

By confronting his inadequacies, he prepared himself to face the world.

Yet, even the vast ocean he thought he faced—was it merely another well?

The clear tone of the guitar began with a soft chime, blending seamlessly with the tranquil piano line.

The instrumental track, which had felt bland without vocals, now sounded as if it naturally included them.

With the addition of the guitar line, he felt as though the entire song was waiting for his vocals.

No, to be precise…

It felt as though the entire composition was calling for him.

“Today, as always, I am waiting for you…”

The lyrics flowed effortlessly from his mouth.

“Wow, what is that?”

A friend who had come to help with the mixing muttered.

Sehyeon felt the same.

What on earth was that?

The next part was the hook, a segment where Sehyeon had put considerable effort.

It was the climax where the buildup of the first verse would explode.

The guitar was recorded to naturally support the vocals.

“Ah…”

Sehyeon let out a soft sigh of regret.

It would have been nice if the guitar had hit harder in this section.

Wouldn’t it have amplified the explosion of the climax?

No, that wasn’t right.

This song belonged to Sehyeon, and his vocals were its centerpiece.

The session player was there to enhance his vocals.

‘How could I almost forget that about my own song?’

The playing was precise, as if the session musician understood they were there solely to bring out the best in Sehyeon’s voice.

Impressed, Sehyeon marveled at the restraint.

How could anyone suppress their ego so completely, even as a session musician?

Surely, a little greed would be natural.

“Is this line okay?”

The voice from the recording room came through after the guitar part ended.

“Anything to fix?”

“Uh… no. It’s good as it is. Honestly, we could’ve just recorded that and been done with it.”

“Yeah, there doesn’t seem to be anything more to tweak,” his friend murmured.

Sehyeon agreed.

There wasn’t anything else to add.

It felt like they could have gone with the previous take.

“I think we can start recording right away.”

“Is the tone okay as it is?”

Tone? Sehyeon pondered for a moment what kind of tone would work best.

‘I’m not sure.’

“Just do it as you see fit. The current tone is fine.”

“Understood.”

While his friend adjusted the recording setup, Sehyeon fine-tuned the monitoring environment.

Meanwhile, the girl in the recording room seemed to be tweaking various tone settings.

“We’ll record the melody line first, then add strumming, arpeggios, and single notes as needed.”

“Ah, okay…”

“I don’t have an acoustic guitar with me right now, so I’ll simulate it as closely as possible with Guitar Rig. Do you need an actual acoustic sound?”

“Oh, no…”

One line would be sufficient, Sehyeon thought, but the session musician seemed to have other ideas.

Offering to record an acoustic guitar sound, even though it hadn’t been requested, gave the impression of great diligence.

Listening to the guitar sound flowing from the speakers, Sehyeon closed his eyes slightly.

‘This is good.’

A song that had felt unsatisfactory now seemed to be nearing perfection.

No, perhaps it was surpassing perfection, reaching 120%, even 130%.

“Should we add a solo?”

“Oh, uh… I think it would be good…”

Then came a suggestion from the recording room.

“Can we add a solo?”

“Sure, could you try playing it? I’ll need to hear it first.”

Sehyeon agreed, though his friend didn’t seem as convinced.

Ignoring his friend’s reaction, Sehyeon spoke into the microphone.

A moment later, the solo began.

And Sehyeon felt chills run through his body.

The bending note that signaled the start of the hook, followed by Ha Su-yeon’s hands coming to life.

Her fingers moved delicately yet boldly, like a spider spinning its web.

With her thumb anchoring, the four sisters danced across the fretboard.

Neither hurried nor sluggish,

Like a butterfly instinctively knowing its path, the melody progressed naturally.

‘This has to be included.’

The solo, a brief thirty seconds that felt like ten, ended.

Sehyeon immediately thought so.

And just as he was about to say it, his friend spoke first.

“This can’t be included.”

“…Why not?”

“The solo will definitely make the song incredible.

But then your vocals will get overshadowed.”

“What?”

“Your vocals can’t keep up with this solo.

If we go with the solo, we’ll have to tone down the vocals, and while the song as a whole will improve, your vocals will fade.”

Pondering his friend’s words, Sehyeon hesitated.

The quality of the song versus the prominence of the vocals.

Both choices made sense and held merit.

After a moment of deliberation, Sehyeon picked up the microphone and spoke into the recording room.

“Let’s go without the solo.”

“Understood. Let’s move on to the next section.”

‘This is the right choice.’

The overall quality of the song was important.

But what was even more crucial was that this album and song belonged to ‘Sehyeon.’

It was ‘Sehyeon’ who needed to stand out, not the guitar.

“Where did she learn that?”

“Huh?”

While thinking this, he heard his friend murmur.

“She looks so young.

But she doesn’t seem like a student from an arts high school.

Not that arts high schools even teach skills like that…”

“Hmm.”

Sehyeon and his friend, being arts high school graduates themselves, knew the environment well.

It was a space where everyone aspired to be the protagonist and believed they could be.

“She’s too young to have much session experience.

But she seems incredibly skilled.”

“Well… does it matter?”

As he listened to his friend’s musings, Sehyeon thought of the session fee they had agreed upon.

150,000 won per session (three to three-and-a-half hours).

Initially, he expected they’d need three sessions, amounting to 450,000 won.

He also worried that even after paying in full, the recording might not meet expectations.

‘But at this rate, the work might finish in two sessions.’

Somehow, he felt a twinge of guilt.

To receive such high-quality work and finish after paying only 300,000 won…

It felt almost like theft.

Ha Su-yeon strummed the guitar absentmindedly.

A faintly gritty, slightly driven tone—sharp yet clean.

She played only what was necessary and adjusted the tone again.

Now it was time for the arpeggios.

‘Is it really necessary to go this far?’

In the past, Ha Su-yeon would never have gone this far.

While she always did what was asked, she never exceeded expectations by adding her own touch to the arrangement.

After all, that too was effort—and money.

There is a saying that composition is about sensitivity, while arrangement is about study.

This is because composition is the task of creating the main melody, whereas arrangement is the task of creating various accompaniments, sound effects, and other devices that support the main melody.

In other words, it is work that requires effort.

And work that requires effort must be paid for. This is an unspoken rule in the industry.

Ha Su-yeon was someone who knew this rule all too well, but…

“If I start charging for things like this, no one will hire me for a session.”

If it were the old him, he would have said, “If you want me to do more, you need to either give me credit (copyright) or pay an arrangement fee.”

Because the one at a disadvantage wasn’t him, but those who called him.

He preferred doing sessions when he felt like it, and there were plenty of people willing to pay him.
But now?

“Just receiving this request is almost a miracle.”

He had posted his songs and contact information, but never thought anyone would listen and reach out.

After all, who would contact him just after hearing a cover song and one of his own compositions and say, “This person is really crazy!”

If there had been a junior asking him, “Is it okay to try this?” near Ha Su-yeon he would have slapped them in the back of the head.

They would just waste money.

But now, it had actually happened…

“I need to treat these kids well and build connections so that I can get more work in the future.”

Looking at their attire and the level of their songs, it was clear they were students from a prestigious university, walking around arrogantly claiming to be musicians, despite lacking real skill.

They were the exact type of people Ha Su-yeon disliked, but there was one good thing:

“They come from wealthy families, so they don’t care about 300,000 or 500,000 won.”

It was a rather prejudiced thought, but Ha Su-yeon believed it to be close to the truth.

After all, music should be about starting from nothing, earning money through performances, renting a small apartment, buying instruments, and struggling with a strong determination to succeed.

These days, the music young people make is soft and doesn’t even resemble real music.

Ha Su-yeon thought there must be a reason for that.

“Kids who go, ‘Ugh, mom and dad, give me money, I want to do music, wah!’ What kind of music can they even make… Tsk, tsk…”

“Thank you!! We’ll definitely spread the word to our friends!! Great job!!”

“Yeah, thank you.”

The sun had already set, and the street was lit by the pale moonlight. Ha Su-yeon holding his guitar, opened his phone after watching the two university students bow repeatedly.

“Was it 300,000 won?”

If it were in the past, he would have received around one million won.

Since he had done some arrangement work, he might have even gotten over 150,000 won.

But now, he had to be content with receiving less than a fifth of that.

“Well, I guess I should think of it as taking my first step…”

While lost in those thoughts, Ha Su-yeon ’s eyes landed on a Benz S-Class that arrived in front of him.

Through the open passenger seat, he saw Lee Hye-in.

“ Ha Su-yeon! Are you done?”

“Yes.”

“You can put your stuff in the back seat~”

After tossing the luggage in, he got into the front seat and fastened his seatbelt.

Meanwhile, Lee Hye-in kept smiling and looking at him.

“…What is it?”

“I heard you play the guitar, and you said you’re making money from it, so I’m surprised.”

“It’s not usually this easy to make money, uh… I’m just good at playing, that’s all.”

Ha Su-yeon quickly added something that might make her think being a guitarist is a well-paid job.

“I know, honey. Our daughter could only do it because she’s good at it.”

“…Yes.”

And then came the silence.

Ha Su-yeon stole a glance at Lee Hye-in’s face.

Even though it was quite late, she had come to pick him up.

Despite how tiring it might seem, there was no trace of reluctance.

“Do you think Ha Su-yeon will become a professional guitarist someday and make a living with it?”

“…Well, it’s possible, but…”

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to go that far. He had planned to only enjoy music in this life.

“But thinking about it, I guess I shouldn’t have done sessions in the first place…?”

The thought was interrupted by Lee Hye-in’s voice.

“ Ha Su-yeon, have you ever thought about doing a part-time job?”

“A part-time job? What kind of job?”

“At my company, there are office worker bands, and they seem to need someone to teach them.

You could teach them and also perform at the company café… that kind of thing…”

She continued talking, but her voice faded as they entered a tunnel, though Ha Su-yeon gathered that it was about a part-time job teaching guitar to amateurs.

“I’ll do it.”

“Really? Thanks.”

Looking at Lee Hye-in’s smile, Ha Su-yeon thought.

Teaching regular people, or lessons, was something he had done for over ten years.

It was almost like child’s play to him.

“Money just seems to roll in…”

Ha Su-yeon chuckled to himself, feeling as though one of his belongings would soon be in his hands.