Chapter 43 : Open Mic (3)

Music director Kim Jae-hoon stared at the young girl in front of him, thinking about how much he wanted to smoke a cigarette.

The girl, with her eyes slightly closed, was listening to music.

She looked like she could be a middle or high school student.

Maybe not a senior in high school or a college freshman—her appearance didn’t suggest that.

She hadn’t fully matured yet, and there was still a lingering sense of youthfulness about her.

Even so, her features were striking enough to make one wonder if she could become an idol or actress someday.

But music isn’t something you can do with just a pretty face.

Well, in certain fields, maybe you can, but not in the one Jae-hoon needed right now.

“That bastard Im Joon-hong… If he couldn’t do it, he should’ve just said so instead of pulling this kind of crap. Did I ever treat him poorly or something?”

The drama’s schedule had been running smoothly.

But then, it was completely derailed by a controversy involving one of the supporting actors.

The actor was forced to step down, and now all the scenes had to be reshot with a new actor.

The production team had proposed simply replacing the actor while keeping the setup intact to speed things up.

However, the writer and main PD had a different opinion.

They decided to revise the entire story and remove all related scenes to maintain the quality of the drama.

That was fine.

After all, who wouldn’t want to work hard and deliver the best result? The problem was that music typically came into play at the very end, which left Jae-hoon with a ridiculously tight schedule.

“And that’s why I just grabbed whoever was available for this session…”

Jae-hoon didn’t have a close personal relationship with Im Joon-hong, but they had worked together several times and were on good enough terms to ask for favors.

So, Jae-hoon had asked him to come. But Joon-hong had another schedule.

“What about someone else? Anyone you can recommend?”

“Most of the skilled session players I know are also tied up. Oh! I know someone affordable, talented, and promising. It’s their first time doing a session, but I can vouch for their skills. They’ll do fine. Is that okay?”

“If you’re recommending them, sure. Let’s give it a shot.”

And that was that. Jae-hoon didn’t think much more of it.

If Joon-hong was reliable, then surely his recommendation would be as well.

But when the guitarist arrived…

Jae-hoon’s expression grew more and more irritated.

The staff nearby exchanged nervous glances, worried about catching the fallout.

“She’s just going to get yelled at with, ‘If you can’t handle this, go home. Damn it, Im Joon-hong,’” one staff member whispered.

But the real concern was that they would be the next ones to feel the brunt of Jae-hoon’s frustration.

“Ah, damn it…”

“Does Joon-hong or whoever even have a sense of responsibility?”

“What if she’s his student or something?”

“Or maybe they’re… involved? But isn’t that illegal? She looks so underage.”

As absurd theories swirled among the staff, the girl, Ha Su-yeon , remained still, eyes closed, until the music ended.

The moment it stopped, she played it again.

This time, her posture changed.

Her hands, previously resting on her lap, began to move subtly, tapping along with the rhythm.

It was only a few minutes, but even that felt like a waste of time to Jae-hoon. He signaled one of the staff with his eyes to start searching for someone new.

The staff member quietly slipped away as Ha Su-yeon opened her eyes.

“Where’s the chord sheet? I asked for it earlier.”

“This is insane…”

Grudgingly, Jae-hoon handed over the chord sheet.

Ha Su-yeon placed it on the desk, picked up a pen, and said, “All right, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

The music began.

It was a 90s rock ballad-style OST to suit the retro-themed drama.

The song started with a slightly rusty vocal tone in the intro and middle sections, building up to an explosive climax toward the end.

The staff, initially skeptical, watched as Ha Su-yeon jotted something down.

Her actions seemed oddly old-fashioned, leaving them puzzled.

“I think this should work. Is the composer here?”

She put her pen down as if there was nothing more to add.

“He went out for a smoke…”

“When he’s back, we’ll go over it. If there’s nothing else, we’ll start recording right away. By the way, you only brought electric guitars, right? I think we’ll need both acoustic and nylon strings. The MIDI dampening isn’t great.”

Curious about how far she could go, Jae-hoon nodded at the staff to follow her lead.

She picked up a Fender guitar, which caught someone’s attention.

“We have an Anderson—”

“This track will sound better with the Fender.”

Jae-hoon let out a scoff, watching her handle the Fender.

Just then, the composer rushed in, having heard the commotion while smoking.

“What’s going on? Where’s Joon-hong? Who’s this?”

“Mr. Joon-hong decided to send her as a substitute. Apparently, she claims she can handle the recording herself.”

The composer looked at her in disbelief.

Ha Su-yeon , unfazed, asked, “Do you have any specific preferences or parts to emphasize?”

“Well… The D-bridge has a build-up starting at the third measure.”

“Then we’ll add some drive there. Or should we start it earlier for a gradual buildup?”

“No, not earlier. Keep it short and fast, though.”

The initial skepticism began to waver as the composer and Ha Su-yeon discussed the arrangement.

Soon, the conversation turned into a serious exchange about how to structure the part.

“Are you asking for quick, percussive low tones?”

“Yeah, something like that, I think.”

The staff, who had been watching with suspicion, began to reconsider.

“Is she really cut out for this session work?”

Finally, Ha Su-yeon put down her pen.

“Okay, let’s start recording. Engineer!”

Seated with her headphones on, Ha Su-yeon checked the sheet music and said, “Let me test the sound real quick. Is the effects output okay?”

“Sounds good!”

The doubtful glances she’d been receiving started to shift toward approval.

Most first-time session players, especially at this level, didn’t know what to do.

They’d waste time figuring things out, often struggling through the process.

But Ha Su-yeon was different.

Despite it being her first session, she listened to the track, reviewed the chord sheet, created a line, and incorporated the composer’s feedback seamlessly.

“Let’s start with the backing for the chorus.”

The chorus, the song’s climax, began.

Ha Su-yeon gestured for the playback to start and began strumming rhythmically.

Jae-hoon listened to the guitar sound coming from the control room, blending into the backdrop of the 90s rock ballad climax.

It wasn’t anything extraordinary. Just basic backing strums.

But Jae-hoon felt an odd sense of unease.

Something felt missing—something he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Seok-joon.”

“Yes, just a moment—yes?”

As Ha Su-yeon signaled the transition to the next part, Seok-joon prepared for another take.

Jae-hoon stopped at the remark.

“Play the recording we just made again.”

“What? It seemed fine to me…”

“No, play it again.”

With that, the play button was pressed.

The backing track that played sounded fine even to his ears. “Seok-joon

seemed to think the same and gave Jae-hoon a puzzled look as if to ask what was wrong.

“Why is the balance perfect on this?”

“What? Oh… you’re right.”

It had been recorded in one go, with no post-editing.

Yet, the strumming that lasted several dozen seconds was flawless, as if it had been polished post-recording.

The balance was perfect from beginning to end.

“At this level, we could probably just add it directly to the track.”

“Move on to the next part.”

Saying this, Jae-hoon stepped back slightly, standing behind them. The recording continued.

Arpeggios, obbligatos supporting the melody, harmonies in the bridge, and other guitar sections—all progressed seamlessly without interruption.

“Is this recording for real? Are we under some kind of hypnosis?” the composer muttered.

Jae-hoon glanced through the control room window at Ha Su-yeon .

She was clenching and unclenching her fists to loosen them.

Then, she adjusted the amp, saying, “I’m going to set up for the solo.”

“How is this even possible?”

“What is?”

“That we’re getting through the recording this fast.”

“Well… it’s rare, I’ll give you that.”

In response to Jae-hoon ’s question, the composer replied and then turned to “Seok-joon , who was handling the equipment.

“What’s the name of this session musician again?”

“She said it’s Ha Ha Su-yeon…”

Jae-hoon half-listened to their conversation and thought.

Even if a highly skilled session musician—like Im Junhong, who had recommended this girl—was brought in, the recording wouldn’t progress this quickly.

It wasn’t that Junhong lacked ability.

If he had, he wouldn’t have been called in the first place.

But to anticipate the composer’s needs, suggest fitting elements for the track, and produce such flawless quality without any sense of insufficiency in such a short time… Could Junhong pull that off?

Jae-hoon couldn’t easily answer “yes” to that.

Such work requires experience.

The purpose of a drama OST is to promote the drama.

To fulfill that purpose, the music should feel familiar and easy to listen to while offering a distinctive atmosphere different from the norm.

At the same time, it must adhere to the grammar of the musical genre.

In urgent situations like this, the performance must instantly match the scene.

To achieve all that so effortlessly requires more than talent.

It demands experience.

Overwhelming experience built from doing such work tens, hundreds, or even thousands of times.

From countless practice sessions that train you to identify the perfect solution on instinct.

“And yet, this kid is doing just that. As expected of someone recommended by Im Junhong. I might owe him a drink.”

Thinking about the time they saved, Jae-hoon chuckled.

He had already forgotten all the curses he had hurled at Junhong in front of the staff, calling him all sorts of names.

“Alright, starting the solo.”

Amidst this, Ha Su-yeon spoke after finishing her preparations, strumming the guitar a couple of times.

Then, the music played.

With calm picking, the sound of a Fender with clean tone and a touch of drive flowed smoothly from the speakers.