"So," Chae-rin said, her pen poised over the blank page titled Duet Project. "How do you see the song?"
I blinked at her, my brain still buzzing from the earlier performance.
"I thought..." I stammered. "I thought you were choosing the song? You know, a cover? Maybe some Ed Sheeran? Or a nice, safe K-Ballad?"
Chae-rin looked at me as if I had suggested we perform a kazoo concerto.
"A cover?" She scoffed. "San, this is the Autumn Festival. Covers are for amateurs. Of course, Professor may choose the cover version, but... We need an original. Unless..." She raised an eyebrow. "You're out of ideas after writing for your little band?"
Another problem, I groaned internally. My head is going to explode.
I rubbed my temples. An original song. Right now. With the Ice Queen watching.
I closed my eyes. I thought about the chaos of the day. The running, the hiding in lifebuoys, the adrenaline of the stage, and the constant feeling of just barely keeping my head above water.
I took the pen from her hand.
At the top of the page, I wrote two words:
Almost Okay
"It's about... trying to convince yourself that you're fine when the world is burning down around you," I muttered.
I started to hum. It wasn't a fully formed melody, just a fragmented acoustic riff. A little melancholic, a little hopeful. I tapped the rhythm on the desk.
"Da-da-da... and then the chorus hits... Not yet fine not yet fine, but I'm walking this line..."
Chae-rin watched me for five minutes in silence. She didn't interrupt. She just observed, her eyes tracking the movement of my hand as I scribbled chords.
Then, she leaned in.
"That transition is weak," she stated.
She tapped the paper.
"Here. You're going down to a minor chord. It drags. Stay on the major seventh. And here..." She hummed a harmony line, her voice crystal clear and perfectly controlled. "Instead of stopping, we should repeat the line. I can layer a vocal run underneath. Like... Hooo-ooo-ooo..."
I listened to her harmony. It instantly elevated my scratchy humming into something that sounded expensive.
"Wow," I admitted. "Yeah. That works. We repeat it, and you do the floaty ghost vocal thing."
RIIIIING.
The bell for the next period shattered the moment.
"Sight Singing," I sighed, reaching for my bag. "We should probably—"
"Pack your guitar," Chae-rin commanded, standing up and smoothing her skirt.
"What? Why?"
"We're losing the flow," she said, checking her phone. "We are going to the studio."
"But... school? Attendance?"
"Don't worry," she said dismissively, walking toward the exit. "I'll deal with it. It's 'Field Study.'"
I stared at her back. Must be nice, I thought bitterly. I'm over here parkouring over fences to avoid detention, and she just makes a phone call. The life of a nepo-baby.
"Are you going to stand there all day, San-ssi?" she called out from the door. "Or are you taking your guitar?"
When I hear my name from her lips I felt... Somewhat energetic.
I grabbed my guitar case and ran after her.
Five minutes later, a sleek, black sedan with tinted windows pulled up to the curb outside the school gate. The driver, a man in a black suit, opened the door for Chae-rin.
I slid onto the beige leather seats, feeling incredibly underdressed in my sweaty uniform.
"To the company," Chae-rin told the driver.
As the car glided through the Seoul traffic, we continued dissecting the song.
"The second verse or maybe the bridge," I said, looking at my scribbles. "I was thinking... maybe we switch languages? To add texture?"
"Full English?" Chae-rin asked.
"No. Ukrainian."
Chae-rin wrinkled her nose. "Ukrainian? San, that's risky. It might break the immersion."
"It's melodic!" I argued. "Trust me. Just four lines. It fits the theme. It adds... exotic longing."
She looked skeptical. "I don't know. It sounds messy."
"Let me record the guide," I pressed. "If you hate it, we cut it. But you have to hear it in the booth."
"Fine," she sighed. "One take. If it sounds like gibberish, it's gone."
The car turned a corner and pulled up to a massive, futuristic building that looked like a spaceship had landed in the middle of Mapo-gu. The sleek, angular architecture screamed money and power.
YG Entertainment.
My jaw tightened. I had seen pictures, but actually walking in...
The security guards at the entrance didn't even ask for my ID. They just bowed to Chae-rin.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Yoo."
"He's with me," she said, gesturing to me.
We walked into the lobby. It was a cavern of concrete and LED screens. Music videos were playing on the walls.
We headed toward the elevators, Chae-rin walking with a confidence that suggested she owned the place (which, technically, she might one day).
The elevator doors opened on the 5th floor—the studio level.
We walked down a hallway lined with platinum records. I was busy gaping at a poster of 2NE1 when a figure turned the corner, walking toward us.
He was wearing oversized sunglasses, a beanie pulled low, and a jacket that probably cost more than my entire education in Ukraine. He walked with a distinctive swagger—loose, relaxed, undeniable.
I froze.
Chae-rin didn't. She smiled.
"Oppa!" she chirped—a tone I had never heard her use before.
The man stopped. He pulled down his sunglasses.
It was G-Dragon.
Kwon Ji-yong. The leader of BIGBANG.
He looked at Chae-rin and a lazy, affectionate grin spread across his face. He reached out and patted her on the head like she was a puppy.
"Oh? Look at our Chae-rin," he said, his voice raspy and familiar. "How fast you grew. Are you skipping practice again?"
"No," Chae-rin pouted playfully. "I'm working. School project."
She gestured to me. I was currently doing a very good impression of a statue.
"This is San. My classmate," she introduced. "We're here to record a song for our duet evaluation."
G-Dragon turned his gaze to me. He looked me up and down—the messy hair, the guitar case, the stunned expression.
"San?" he repeated. "The one you complained about to the vocal teacher?"
My soul left my body. He knows who I am?
"H-hello," I squeaked. "Big fan."
GD chuckled. "Nice to meet you."
He looked back at Chae-rin, intrigued.
"A duet project? You usually work alone, Chae-rin-ah. This must be interesting."
He glanced at the studio door behind us, then back at us.
"Is the track ready?" he asked.
"We're just laying down the guide," Chae-rin said. "It's an acoustic original."
"Original?" G-Dragon's eyebrows shot up. He adjusted his beanie. "Woah. Bold."
He took a step toward the studio door, putting his hand on the handle.
"Well," he said, looking back at us with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I have thirty minutes before my meeting. Mind if I listen? Maybe I can offer some... advice."
My jaw didn't just drop. It hit the floor, dug a hole, and buried itself in the foundation of the building.
G-Dragon wanted to produce us.(well, actually he didn't, but San had already jump in with conclusions)
Chae-rin just smiled.
"Sure, Oppa. But don't be too harsh. He's fragile."