Chapter 16: I Don’t Know if It Will Help, But I Will Give It a Try
It was no exaggeration to say that an original soundtrack dictated a drama’s success these days. The importance of the OST in both dramas and movies skyrocketed by the day.
Rarely, a soundtrack even eclipsed the drama itself.
As the prestige of OSTs climbed, unknown singers could stumble upon the perfect track and rocket to stardom, forcing the public to re-evaluate their vocal prowess. Tracks once relegated to mere guide vocalists now held immense power.
Drama music directors typically monopolized production. They dictated the album’s concept and even composed the tracks themselves.
Music Director Kang Chuljoo—famously dubbed the ‘Owl’ for devouring night shifts until he achieved perfection—had successfully wrapped up the soundtracks for ‘The Flower That Bloomed in Memories’ and ‘An Ordinary Day’ the previous year. Recently, he took the helm as the general director for TVM’s upcoming drama, ‘Pygmalion Effect’.
For weeks, Kang Chuljoo had practically lived in his studio, single-handedly composing, recording, mixing, and mastering the tracks for ‘Pygmalion Effect’ in a grueling timeframe.
His blood, sweat, and tears paid off. Six of the seven required tracks sat nearly complete. Only one remained.
“No matter how many times I listen to it, this is the one I prefer…”
Kang Chuljoo thought of the only externally sourced track among the seven.
“‘The Song of Yearning…’ he muttered. ‘Just how did someone compose a piece with this kind of resonance?'”
Initially, when the production company pushed for an external track, Kang Chuljoo scoffed.
It felt like a direct insult to his skills.
Possessing unshakable confidence in his own music, he had never accepted an outside track while directing an OST.
Yet the moment he heard the Song of Yearning, he abandoned his current work and surrendered to the melody.
Kang Chuljoo had listened to countless songs in his lifetime, but the feeling the Song of Yearning evoked was unique and profound.
Its texture felt distinctly different from anything ever released domestically.
If someone asked whether it mirrored foreign pop, the answer would remain no.
It possessed a melody so distinct one could classify it as an entirely new genre.
It had yet to feel alien or discordant.
Despite the unfamiliar melody line, the ear adapted before three measures even passed, leaving the tune lingering endlessly.
“Let’s see. The recording date is a week away? The vocalist is… Han Gyeoul from Heart Signal. Hiss… I prefer real singers to idols…”
Kang Chuljoo recalled a bitter memory. A massive entertainment agency once strong-armed a production company into forcing a talentless idol to record an OST as the lead vocalist. The song failed to match her tone, and she lacked even basic skill, leaving Kang Chuljoo trapped in the studio for days, desperately trying to salvage the track through mixing and mastering.
***
Ever since her agency confirmed the recording date for the Song of Yearning, Han Gyeoul tossed and turned, losing sleep for nights on end.
“Kyaa! What do I do! I am finally recording as a solo vocalist!”
Burying her face in her pillow with a muffled scream of joy, Gyeoul thought of the Song of Yearning. She had sung it dozens of times a day recently.
“The Song of Yearning gets more charming the more I sing it. Plus, I feel so attached to it, almost like it is my own baby… Wait. Does that make Kyuha the dad? Kyaa! What am I even saying.”
Thrashing around on her bed alone, Han Gyeoul sprang up as a thought struck her.
“Ah! Should I ask Kyuha to come with me to the recording studio? It is the day before filming anyway.”
Gyeoul immediately fired off a KakaoTalk message to Kyuha.
– [Gyeoul] Kyuha! Are you sleeping? You’re not asleep already, are you? (Suspicious Emoticon)
Kyuha’s reply arrived 15 minutes later.
– [Kyuha] I’m just at the agency practicing my lines. Haha.
– [Gyeoul] Oh~ As expected of the lead actor~! (Thumbs up)
– [Gyeoul] It’s nothing much, but if you don’t have any plans on the 19th, could you do me a favor? ㅠㅠ? (Please Emoticon)
– [Kyuha] The 19th? I don’t have anything going on, but what is it?
– [Gyeoul] I have the recording for the Song of Yearning OST at the studio that day, and I was hoping you could come with me. Since you’re the composer, I feel like I’d gain a lot of strength if you came along… Could you please come with me~? (Please Emoticon)
Having an empty schedule that day, and harboring a genuine curiosity about how his creation would transform into a modern OST, Kyuha readily agreed.
– [Kyuha] Sure, let’s go together. See you then.
– [Gyeoul] Oh yeah~! Thank you so much!! (Heart Heart) I’ll see you by 10 AM on the 19th! I’ll send you the address separately.
Gyeoul clenched her fists tightly.
“Yes! It’s done! I feel like the recording will go much better if he is watching. After all, Kyuha is my human totem.”
In Gyeoul’s eyes, Kyuha stood as a man capable of anything. Convinced he could effortlessly resolve any problem, she drew immense strength just knowing he would be there with her.
***
The day of the Song of Yearning OST recording.
Music Director Kang Chuljoo arrived at the studio bright and early to set up for the recording session. Around 10 o’clock, Han Gyeoul and her manager, Han Solhee, walked into the recording studio together.
Despite her lingering nerves, Han Gyeoul greeted Director Kang Chuljoo with a bright voice.
“Hello, Director! I am Han Gyeoul! I look forward to working with you today. I will do my very best!”
“Nice to meet you, Gyeoul. I am Music Director Kang Chuljoo. I look forward to working with you today as well. First, have a seat here and let’s have a cup of coffee.”
Brewing a warm cup of drip coffee for Gyeoul and her manager, Director Kang Chuljoo discussed the concept of the song and various details regarding the recording.
“Just a moment, Director!”
Gyeoul scrambled to pull a notepad and pen from her bag, furiously scribbling down everything Director Kang Chuljoo said.
‘Hmm… Unlike kids these days, she is very polite and diligent.’
Kang Chuljoo found Gyeoul’s proactive attitude rather favorable. Judging by how diligently she took notes, he sensed the session would proceed smoothly.
“By the way, where did you get this song, the Song of Yearning? A song of this caliber couldn’t have been made by just an ordinary composer.”
“Ah! The Song of Yearning? Hehe, it is a really great song, isn’t it? Actually, the composer said he would be coming to the studio today.”
“Oh, the composer himself?”
Right on cue, the studio doors opened, and Kyuha arrived.
“Kyuha! Over here!”
Director Kang Chuljoo looked at Kyuha’s face, his expression filled with uncertainty.
“I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before…”
“You must be the Director, right? Hello. I am Song Kyuha.”
“Kyuha… Song Kyuha… Wait!? Are you perhaps the male lead for this upcoming drama?”
“Yes, that’s correct. You have a keen eye. Most people usually don’t recognize me.”
“Then, the composer of the Song of Yearning is you, Song Kyuha? But how…?”
Judging by the originality and polish of the track, Director Kang Chuljoo had assumed it belonged to an established veteran. Realizing an actor penned the masterpiece left him dumbfounded.
“Calling it composing feels a bit embarrassing. It is just a tune I played around with when I was younger, and Gyeoul sang it well.”
“Huh… Regardless, it is astonishing. To think the person who created the song is the cast actor, Kyuha.”
Though still reeling from the shock, Kang Chuljoo knew the recording took precedence. He gestured toward the equipment, signaling the start of the session.
“Alright, first, Gyeoul, please head into the booth and warm up your voice.”
Looking slightly tense, Gyeoul entered the booth. She lightly warmed up her vocals while running through the lyrics one last time.
“Alright, we will begin now.”
Following Director Kang Chuljoo’s cue, the official first rendition of the Song of Yearning echoed through the studio.
[Lost in the space between you and me, I feel no emotion.
My heart aches, and I can barely breathe.
I wish you would hurt me, so I wouldn’t have to be sad anymore.
It feels like I’m falling, this feeling of dropping into the darkness.
I don’t even know where to go.
Staring only at the stars, yet ultimately wondering about you.
Are you looking down at me?]
Listening intently, Kang Chuljoo lived up to his meticulous reputation, firing off a string of exact instructions.
“Gyeoul, that was solid, but for the opening verse, sing it as effortlessly as possible. Then, let’s dump all our power into the chorus highlight. Make sense?”
“Yes! Director, I will try it one more time!”
Gyeoul nodded, her expression flashing with determination. Before long, Director Kang Chuljoo flashed the OK sign.
“Yes, that’s good. Let’s take a short break.”
Stepping out of the booth, Han Gyeoul stood beside Kang Chuljoo to review her recording.
Kang Chuljoo furrowed his brow, evidently unsatisfied.
“The vocals are fine, but… something is missing.”
Han Gyeoul felt a pang of disappointment. The overwhelming emotion she experienced when Kyuha first played the track had yet to materialize in the recording.
“As expected, without Kyuha’s grass leaf flute accompaniment, it feels incredibly empty.”
Kang Chuljoo, having been lost in deep thought, looked at Gyeoul with a baffled expression.
“A grass leaf flute? The original had a grass leaf flute in it?”
“Actually, when Kyuha first revealed this song, he played it on a grass leaf flute. Now that I hear it, the grass leaf flute suits it far better than a regular instrument.”
“A grass leaf flute… That is incredibly refreshing. Excuse me, Kyuha? Could you step over here for a moment?”
Sipping coffee at the lounge table, Kyuha walked into the booth at the sound of his name.
“Kyuha, I heard you can play this song on a grass leaf flute? It feels like something is missing, so would you mind trying to match the accompaniment with the grass leaf flute?”
Kyuha fell silent at the unexpected request. Yet, meeting Han Gyeoul’s desperate gaze, he eventually nodded.
“I don’t know if it will help, but I will give it a try.”
Plucking a crisp leaf from a potted plant in the corner of the studio, Kyuha stepped into the vocal booth alongside Gyeoul.
“Thank you so much! I will really do my best!”
“You are already doing well enough, Gyeoul. Just sing it like you always do.”
As the prelude swept through the speakers, Gyeoul poured her soul into the microphone.
When the interlude bridged the verses, Kyuha lifted the leaf to his lips, and his melody wove into the track.
*Ppii-ril-ril-li~*
*Hwi-ri-ri-ri~*
“That’s it! This is the one!”
The raw, haunting sentiment flowing from the grass leaf flute elevated the song’s lyrical depth. Blending with Han Gyeoul’s voice, it forged a breathtaking harmony.
“Okay! That was fantastic. Great job, both of you,” Kang Chuljoo called out.
Finding the track’s quality far exceeding his expectations, Director Kang Chuljoo happily called the final cut.
“Thank you for your hard work, Director!”
Thus, the recording for the ‘Pygmalion Effect’ soundtrack successfully concluded. Collapsing onto her bed that night, a thoroughly exhausted Gyeoul sent Kyuha a final KakaoTalk message.
– [Gyeoul] Kyuha, thank you so much for coming today! Thanks to you, I feel like the recording went incredibly well. [Thumbs Up]
– [Kyuha] I was glad to have such a fun experience too. Haha.
– [Gyeoul] When you have some free time, I’ll buy you something delicious!! Now that I think about it, I’ve only been receiving from you. ㅠㅠ
– [Kyuha] Sure, let’s go grab something good later.
“Kyaa! Isn’t this basically a date? No… probably not… Kyuha clearly only sees me as a younger sister… Am I not attractive enough? I am pretty popular, though. Ugh, I don’t know! But Kyuha seems to be good at everything. He is so amazing… As expected of my human totem. Oh my god, what am I even saying? I need to wash up and go to sleep.”
Han Gyeoul fussed, talking to herself to her heart’s content, before humming the Song of Yearning and slipping into the bathroom.
“But I wonder… what kind of woman is his type?”
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