Chapter 11
After Serin finished her individual practice, I listened to Juha as she came out next. From the sound of her voice, it seemed Juha had understood my intentions quite well.
However, since she wasn’t used to it yet, there were still problems with her pitch and pronunciation.
“Juha, even if it feels frustrating right now, you have to do it this way. If you keep practicing like this, your vocal cords will gradually adapt to that relaxed state. The sound you’re producing now is the sound you’ll need to make in the future, and that feeling is your proper tension.”
“Uh… okay, oppa. But it suddenly feels like I became worse at singing….”
“That’s normal when you change your voice. At first everyone feels that way. But you have to endure it to find a better sound.”
“Okay. I understand.”
The truth is, abandoning bad habits is much harder than forming new ones.
When someone has already become accustomed to an incorrect method, even if they try the correct technique, their voice often sounds worse at first.
That’s because their vocal cords and muscles are already conditioned to the wrong method.
But if they keep practicing, eventually their voice begins to change.
Many singers and trainees fail to endure this stage and end up unable to abandon their ingrained bad habits.
I had Serin, Juha, and Miren continue with their individual practice while I started Mu-jin’s personal training.
Mu-jin’s biggest problem was that he tried too hard to stylize his sound, which caused the basic shape of his oral cavity to collapse.
“Mujin, the foundation of sound is proper vocalization. And an important part of proper vocalization is the structure of the oral cavity. Don’t try to decorate your sound yet. First find your natural pronunciation.”
“I didn’t know I had that kind of problem.”
“Well, if no one points it out, it’s hard to notice. Let’s start by correcting your awkward pronunciation and articulation.”
“Okay, oppa.”
Mu-jin began correcting each of the five vowels one by one: a, e, i, o, u.
At first he kept slipping back into his old habits, but after some time he understood what I meant and started showing some improvement.
Fortunately, all the members were following the intended direction fairly well.
We continued the training like this.
Pointing out key issues, individual practice, checking, correcting, checking again…
After about two hours, there wasn’t any dramatic change yet, but everyone had grasped the direction I was guiding them toward.
At the end, I told all the members,
“Changing your voice and finding a good sound requires patience. Your voice won’t improve immediately, so people often get impatient and return to their old habits. If you’re certain the method is correct, you have to take a long-term view. Only then will your voice change and improve.”
Everyone nodded.
Miren spoke in a noticeably brighter tone.
“Wow, it definitely feels different somehow.”
Juha, still speaking calmly, gave a thoughtful reflection.
“I think so too. The key point is looking at it long-term. Thinking about it now, I guess I was too impatient.”
“Serin, don’t try to sing very high notes for the time being. If you do, your neck might rise again and you’ll end up using your old bad technique.”
“Yes, oppa.”
At that moment Juha asked,
“Oppa, but if we want to keep improving, someone has to keep checking our training. You said you’re quitting soon… so what will we do?”
It was something I had been thinking about myself.
Miren added,
“Yeah. Will the next vocal trainer say the same things as you? From what I can see, oppa seems… kind of special.”
I had expected the question, but it was still difficult to answer.
Honestly, the best thing for them would be for me to continue training them.
Which meant I would have to keep teaching them.
But giving them false hope that another trainer might do the same job just because I didn’t want to continue didn’t sit well with my conscience.
It was a serious dilemma.
In the end, the only thing I could say right now was this.
“Director Choi and Team Leader Kim will find a good trainer. Until then, let’s work hard.”
Even I felt heavy saying those words, and the members’ expressions briefly fell.
But the trainees soon nodded, as if thinking that even this was better than nothing.
Their faces carried a sense of consideration for my awkward situation, and I felt grateful.
They’re trying so hard to show they understand… it makes me feel even more sorry.
As much gratitude as I felt, the burden grew just as much.
Anyway, we had practiced enough for today.
“That’s it for today. Since you used unfamiliar vocal techniques, practicing too long might tire your voices. Training is important, but you should only use your voice to the point where it can recover by the next day. If fatigue accumulates, you might have to rest for a long time.”
“Understood.”
Juha answered firmly.
“Yes! Teacher!”
Miren replied energetically.
“Yes!”
Serin answered briefly but with determination.
And Mujin nodded seriously.
Their responses were so enthusiastic.
Completely different from how they had acted in the car yesterday.
Maybe it wasn’t me who had transmigrated.
Maybe it was them.
After dropping the members off at their homes and returning to my place, I began monitoring the current K-pop industry in earnest.
It was clear that groups with truly outstanding vocal ability were hard to find.
At best, most singers were only at a basic level.
Of course, the recordings were heavily processed, so it wasn’t possible to hear everything clearly.
Still, it was enough to judge their fundamental skill level.
Even after that much mechanical editing, this is the result…
Since I hadn’t been continuously following the Korean music scene, perhaps that allowed me to see the characteristics of modern K-pop more objectively.
Compared to the past, vocal ability clearly held less importance.
Instead, visual appeal, dance, and stylistic concepts stood out more.
Group performance seemed more important than individual ability.
Sacrificing some vocal quality appeared to be an inevitable compromise for those other elements.
This must be the current trend.
But if they didn’t give up…
If they could draw out their best potential…
Even in an era where visuals matter, singers are still singers.
People don’t call them dancers.
They don’t call them performers.
If our trainees could really follow through…
Maybe—
No.
I forcefully suppressed the sudden surge of determination.
If I wasn’t willing to take responsibility, then hope and expectation had no meaning.
Until the next trainer arrived…
Just then, the vibration of my phone scattered my complicated thoughts.
It was a call from an unknown number.
“Hello?”
— Oh, Manager Yoon? It’s Director Choi.
Ilseon.
Of course he must be curious about today’s training.
“Yes, Director.”
— How was the training today? It must have been difficult. Did the kids follow well? What do you think should happen going forward?
Let’s ask one question at a time, Ilseon.
“I focused mainly on their biggest issues during training. Naturally they won’t be solved immediately, but fortunately everyone followed well. And…”
His question about what should happen next.
I paused briefly before answering.
“From now on… they need patient training in directions suited to each of them. Their voices will become very different from now.”
There were actually more concrete ideas in my mind, but I held back.
During the training incident I had spoken impulsively out of concern.
But from now on, I didn’t want to present solutions I couldn’t personally carry out.
Since I didn’t know how long I would even be involved.
— I see. How much time do you think it will take?
“Honestly, the longer the better. Voices don’t change quickly.”
— Of course I know that. But Luminous is currently a top-tier idol group. What I mean is they can’t spend unlimited time training like trainees.
I knew that well too.
Which made me want to say: then you shouldn’t have asked me.
But instead I said,
“If you rush things, there won’t be any real change. The more urgent it is, the more calmly we must follow the proper path. Personally, I think it would take at least six months to show noticeable changes.”
— Ha… six months. Hmm. There are complicated issues you might not be considering, like convincing the company. But to be honest, I agree strongly with what you’re saying. So…
Whenever someone says “So…”, there’s about an 83.56333333% chance something troublesome will follow.
— Tomorrow morning I’ve called a meeting with people from each department regarding Luminous’s new album. Manager Yoon, I’d like you to attend as well.
Statistics never lie.
Starting tomorrow…
When all the core people of the entertainment company gather, what exactly would a mere road manager like me say?
“Director… what exactly would I—”
— Don’t worry about that. I have something in mind. Just remember this: postponing the album was my decision from the beginning. That will make it easier to persuade the CEO later. Keep that in mind and just speak your opinions comfortably. I’ll make sure you can.
Ilseon cut me off quickly, as if he had expected my hesitation.
Still, I couldn’t understand why he trusted me this much.
Had Ilseon always been this quick in judgment?
No—this was closer to insight.
Well, someone who had spent thirty years in this industry and become the production director of a giant company like Reunion must have accumulated that level of experience.
Well… I guess I’ll just go.
“Yes, Director. Please tell me the time and place, and I’ll be there.”
— Good! Around 11 tomorrow. Check with the information desk once the meeting room is assigned.
And just like that, I ended up agreeing again.
To be fair, I wasn’t the type to start something and then leave it half-finished.
Maybe speaking clearly would suit my personality better.
Still… would anything I said even matter?
Whatever. I’ll listen to some music and sleep.
Thinking about it wouldn’t solve anything.
Just let things flow as they will.
For now.
Unlike yesterday, I woke up feeling refreshed.
The videos and music I had monitored late into the night were still vivid in my mind.
And strangely, something like a chemical reaction seemed to be happening inside my head.
As if five minds were working together to analyze the current music industry.
My head isn’t going to explode from this, is it…?
Information was organizing itself into my mind far too quickly.
But that couldn’t actually happen.
Probably.
Today Luminous didn’t have any special schedules, so training was set for 3 PM.
Following Director Choi’s request, I arrived at the Reunion building in the morning.
It was 10:50 AM.
I asked the information desk for the meeting room for the Production Director’s meeting.
Room 503.
When I went to the elevator, Team Leader Kim was standing there.
“Oh, Yoon Jung-hu. I heard yesterday went well. Mujin told me.”
Of course they must have talked.
“Yes. I just pointed out the most important issues first.”
“The members were asking if you’re really getting another vocal trainer. Are you sure you won’t keep doing it?”
The same conversation again.
“I already discussed that with Director Choi.”
Team Leader Kim nodded without saying much.
“Alright. Let’s go up.”
The look on his face made me feel like something was going to happen today.
Maybe having five minds combined made my instincts sharper.
When I carefully opened the door to Room 503, several people were already seated in discussion.
It seemed I had been deliberately called in slightly later.
Director Choi stopped speaking and looked at me.
“Oh, you’re here. Sit over here.”
I sat where he pointed, and the others looked confused.
Naturally.
This was an important meeting about Luminous, Reunion’s flagship artist.
And suddenly some young guy had walked in and taken a seat.
One man asked,
“Who is he?”
Director Choi began introductions.
“This is Go Han-min, head of the Reunion manager division.
Ahn Jun-gyu, strategy planning team leader from the management division.
Yeon Tae-chan, A&R head from the music production division.
And this is Kang Hye-ju, general team leader of the planning department in the music production division.”
Among them, Kang Hye-ju stood out.
Not only because of her striking appearance—she looked almost like a celebrity—but also because she appeared to be in her late twenties, around my age.
For someone that young to be a team leader in a major entertainment company like Reunion…
Clearly Director Choi valued ability more than age.
Finally, Director Choi pointed to me.
“This is Yoon Jung-hu, currently Luminous’s road manager.”
The room filled with puzzled looks.
Then Director Choi said,
“Anyway… Manager Yoon. Could you give us a briefing on Luminous’s condition?”
What?!
No warm-up. No preparation.
Just straight into it.
Ilseon… if we were in the old days, you’d be dead.
Even when he worked under me before, he had always been like this.
Recklessly pushing forward—but always with a plan.
Still, being on the receiving end of it now made it frustrating.
When I didn’t respond immediately, he said,
“Manager Yoon, don’t be nervous. Just speak comfortably.”
Nervous?
Not at all.
It was just that the situation was too absurd.
How did my life end up meeting you again…
Well.
Since things had come this far, I had to speak.
Everyone was watching me with doubtful expressions.
Not even looking directly—just glancing sideways as if wondering what nonsense this road manager might say.
I opened my mouth.
“Luminous…”
Then I said,
“Fortunately… they are a complete mess.”
That was my first evaluation of Luminous in front of Reunion’s core executives.
“They’re a complete mess.
