The Double Life of a Genius Musician Chapter 117 : A Certain Firm Line

Chapter 117: A Certain Firm Line

The title of Taeshi’s song is Shift?

Honestly, I was appalled at first.

I an, what on earth is this?

The title is Shift, Shift!

Seriously, this is a bit ridiculous.

The title determines the first impression of a song.

Is it okay? Or not?

It’s not hard to pronounce though.

Apparently, a bit of my confusion ca through during the call with Director Han Ji-hyuk.

“Title? Shift? Who decided that?”

– The CEO did. It’s a bit… yeah? Hahaha.

“……How about taking a bit more ti to decide on the title?”

– Sure. Then I’ll see you on Wednesday……

I let it go for now.

‘Why does this keep bothering ?’

I was taught that coming up with the title is also part of lyric writing.

And who taught that?

Of course, Teacher Oh Jisoo did.

Of course, there are tis when the production company gives a strong keyword and asks for lyrics based on that.

Or when the composer, lyricist, singer, CEO, and producer all co together and brainstorm.

But I have a slightly different view.

This is Taeshi’s song, Taeshi’s ssage.

So the title should be completed by Taeshi as well.

Did they even ask for Taeshi’s input?

I don’t think so.

I don’t know what made her pitch the song so easily.

But it was clear that CEO Tae Junggi hadn’t completely let go of the steering wheel.

‘……Is this his last bit of pride?’

If that’s the case, I was willing to give in a little.

If soone could protect their pride because of .

That would be sothing to feel good about, in its own way.

Well, might as well hear both sides first.

…So I thought.

Co on, what’s the big deal if the title is Shift. As long as the song hits, that’s what matters.

…Part of really felt that way.

And then—

“Shift, Shift… hmm.”

Saying it out loud, it didn’t actually sound so bad……

Just like Taeyoon predicted.

Tae Junggi really wasn’t backing down on what seed to be his last shred of pride.

But it wasn’t sothing trivial like the title.

He didn’t care about such minor things.

Maybe he pouted inside, but—

The real deal was sothing else.

He hid his true intentions, let others misunderstand, and eventually steered things in the direction he wanted.

That was Tae Junggi’s way.

…At least that’s what Dongyoon thought.

Because of that—

“……Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Giving up producing too? That’s really unexpected.”

“Only A&R knows for now.”

Dongyoon felt both glad and awkward about the situation.

Giving Stay the role of producer?

When Taeyoon said he’d chosen Taeshi.

Part of him wanted to stop him.

Not because he didn’t trust his brother’s decision.

But as an older brother, he thought it would be better to take a well-paved, stable road.

Even objectively speaking.

Legacy was already well-established, Cardo held a dominant spot in the hip-hop scene, and then there was Taeshi—faintly known under the shadow of their father.

Wasn’t the conclusion obvious?

But Taeyoon flipped all expectations.

Because Taeshi made a brilliant song? No.

Because the puppet-like Taeshi had changed? No.

Just with that one song, he had broken through Tae Junggi’s stubbornness.

That was the key to this project.

Team Leader Bang Hyunwoo, who had been listening, asked:

“What does it an exactly, to entrust soone with producing?”

Han Ji-hyuk waved his hand and answered.

“Literally what it sounds like. He really liked it.”

“Uh……”

“What, don’t believe it?”

“You know. It just feels like there’s sothing more to it.”

Dongyoon chid in subtly.

“There isn’t so hidden aning, right?”

“Hey now, what’s with you guys.”

Entrusting a composer with production—

It ant one of two things.

First, a simple reason: entrusting the entire plan to them.

Or—

“It’s not like he’s saying, ‘You guys handle it however you want,’ is it?”

An unspoken pressure to take full responsibility—whether it crashes or succeeds.

Everyone at the table knew the answer already.

“They’ll do fine. They already did. After seeing the Signum album, I’m not worried at all.”

Dongyoon felt like Han Ji-hyuk’s words were more of a self-assurance than a statent.

Maybe this wasn’t agreent.

More like stepping back, crossing his arms, and watching.

To see just how well they’d do after causing all that chaos.

‘No way. This is Stay we’re talking about. Positive thoughts, positive thoughts.’

He had seen similar situations many tis before.

When the hands-on staff couldn’t be swayed.

Tae Junggi would pretend to side with them but quietly watch the chaos unfold with a chilling stare.

Even if Tomorrow Entertainnt was called one of the Big Three managent companies, not every move could be a ho run.

That said, he wasn’t the kind of jerk who would demand accountability, request written apologies, cut salaries, scold people to their face, or crush morale.

He just—

‘Told you so.’

Spoke only with his eyes.

Only those who had experienced it knew how terrifying that was.

Dongyoon had endured that stare before too.

The ability to bind soone without saying a single word.

That was Tae Junggi’s truly frightening trait.

“Why? Is this bringing back mories, Deputy Dongyoon?”

“Ugh.”

Dongyoon laughed awkwardly, hit right on the mark.

Han Ji-hyuk tried to comfort him.

“This ti, it won’t be like that. Don’t worry.”

“……”

Dongyoon didn’t reply, and Han Ji-hyuk paused to think of what to say next.

So people would run from situations like this.

But Dongyoon wasn’t that kind of person.

Still, it was true that this was a precarious situation.

So, he said this for now:

“I know what you’re worried about. But this ti, it’s different. We just need to do the best we can. I’ll support you—fully. And if you’re unsure, rember the Free Pass ticket, yeah?”

“That’s not it.”

Dongyoon’s firm response made Han Ji-hyuk flinch.

Dongyoon knew.

That Taeyoon and Taeshi would pull it off in the end.

He believed in them. Just like always.

But this guy.

He’s not nervous or anything… right?

After the eting ended,

Dongyoon casually sent a ssage to Taeyoon.

Dding—

While waiting for the elevator to the CEO’s office, a ssage from my brother ca in.

[My brother: You there? Good luck with the eting.]

At first, I thought it was just a simple schedule check-in.

He did the sa when I worked with other entertainnt companies.

But just as I was about to reply briefly and move on—

Dding– Dding– Dding–

[My brother: I know you’ll do great, but don’t get scared.]

[My brother: Just say ‘got it’ to whatever he says. I’ll take care of everything afterwards.]

[My brother: Say everything you wanna say. Screw it, okay?]

ssages poured in one after another.

The corners of my mouth curled up on their own.

My brother didn’t really have anything in particular to say to .

He was just worried.

As always, in his awkward way.

And the ssages kept coming.

Jeez, why does he type so fast?

[My brother: Our CEO may look scary, but he’s surprisingly soft, you know?ㅋㅋ]

……What is he doing.

That’s just how my brother is.

He still sees as a kid.

I used to hate this kind of overbearing attention.

But now, I get it.

With that feeling in mind, I replied:

[: Yup yup, don’t worry.]

Ignoring the smartphone that kept buzzing in my pocket, I stepped into the CEO’s office.

“Have a seat.”

“Yes.”

I sat down across from CEO Tae Junggi at a stately table.

A subtle tension filled the space.

Tae Junggi was, as always, authoritative and curt.

He was very different from all the entertainnt company heads I’d t before.

Even though they pretended to be perfectly armored with social masks—

They couldn’t hide the musical sensibilities that seeped from deep within their core.

But this man, I still couldn’t read him.

“Coffee okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

I glanced around the office.

It was a dead ringer for a chaebol chairman’s office straight out of a TV drama.

Cold furniture, monochro walls, decorative items subtly flaunting luxurious taste.

There wasn’t a single trace left of his free-spirited, rebellious rapper days.

Like soone deliberately trying to erase the past.

“How much have you been told?”

“I was told the song was pitched, and that you entrusted with producing it as well.”

“Hmm. So you’ve been told everything.”

Tae Junggi sat down, placing his finished coffee on the table.

Not only did he accept the song, he also gave production responsibilities.

This ant… more than a positive review—sothing in him had shifted.

“Yes, thank you for the opportunity in many ways.”

Should I add more? Or wait?

I made up my mind quickly.

Just stay quiet.

That was the best move in front of this man.

A short silence passed.

Then Tae Junggi broke it and called out to .

“Composer Stay.”

He spoke slowly and deliberately.

“I want to see how far you can bring out Taeshi.”

His tone was cold, but he couldn’t hide the expectations underneath.

Why was that?

Sohow, I could see he was trying hard to suppress his emotions.

But I didn’t need to sink into that with him.

Whether this man was the CEO of Tomorrow Entertainnt,

or Taeshi’s oppressive father,

or a man with the power to cut off in an instant—

It didn’t matter.

In front of music, everyone is equal.

That’s my way.

And then—

“I’ll prove it with the music.”

This man, too, must be soone who understands that.

Once I finished speaking,

I t his eyes without looking away.

Honestly, I was a little… scared.

It’s not like Tae Junggi is just any CEO.

He’s the CEO of an entertainnt company with a market cap over 10 trillion won.

If you’re not scared, you must have guts made of steel.

But wait, huh?

The corner of Tae Junggi’s lips twitched ever so slightly.

A faint smile flickered and disappeared.

Okay, this was enough.

A grand speech would just be overkill.

See?

There’s no such thing as a bad person in music.

“Ahem.”

Clearing his throat, Tae Junggi opened his mouth again.

“Composer Stay. There’s sothing I’d like to ask.”

“As much as you’d like.”

“Shift—was that a calculated song, by any chance?”

Ah, co on.

Things were going too smoothly.

And now he throws in a drift like this?

He was already continuing the conversation assuming the title was Shift.

I replied.

“You can’t force good music, and you can’t calculate it either. In the end, it has to co naturally. The working title Shift was the sa.”

I emphasized the word ‘working title.’

In a way, I was drawing my own clear line.

Taking a breath, I continued.

“If I interpret it my way—when Taeshi sang the working title Shift… she looked happy.”

This ti, I was a bit more nervous.

Maybe I went too emotional with that one.

But it couldn’t be helped.

The words were already out, and they were my truth.

If the singer is joyful and happy—

What more do you really need?

Listeners can tell, too. They can feel what kind of heart the singer is singing with.

“I think that alone is enough.”

Tae Junggi narrowed his eyes and chuckled.

Huh? That smile… it was clearer now.

More definite than before.

With a calm but sharp tone, he asked:

“Composer, you didn’t like the title Shift, did you?”

Eh—what? Was it that obvious?

Well, I’m glad he brought it up first.

Why Tae Junggi changed his mind,

what he expected from us—

None of that really mattered anymore.

But this one thing—I wanted to make sure.

“Why was it Shift?”

“The aning’s good, and it sounds good.”

He shrugged.

Like, what’s the problem?

Now it was my turn to throw in my opinion.

“I actually had a title of my own prepared.”

At those words, Tae Junggi leaned in closer toward .

Oh? So he’s interested?

Without any buildup or explanation—

I just said the title straight out.

I was confident.

Confident that with just one word, I could spark real interest.

“Ashes.”

Was it a bit too cool? It sounds good though?

You might not believe it,

But I really thought so.