Episode 3: Crossroads
The moment I hung up the call, I rushed to the recording studio.
“Hello.”
“Hey, Yujin’s here?”
As I bowed deeply upon entering, the person who’d called me greeted me warmly.
Engineer Baek Kyungmin.
We’re already on pretty friendly terms, like brothers, but his extra warmth today had another reason.
“Sorry for calling you out so late, Yujin. The guy who was supposed to do the guide vocal suddenly bailed.”
It’s because of the time.
Even for artists who live without a clear day or night, getting a call at 9 p.m. asking to record right now is, frankly, a bit rude.
But,
“No worries, hyung! I’m just grateful you called and gave me this opportunity.”
I responded with a good-natured smile.
Was I genuinely grateful for the chance? Not exactly.
‘It’s about the money, obviously.’
Before parting with Zia, I would’ve jumped at the chance to sing, no questions asked. But the me now is different.
If I had my way, I’d be at home, tucking a strand of hair behind Zia’s sleeping face, maybe poking her cheek playfully.
‘But now’s not the time to be picky.’
In this cutthroat Seoul, Zia was the main breadwinner for our little couple.
The problem? Determined to cut ties with me, she quit all her part-time jobs.
I don’t want to see her struggle, so that’s a good thing in itself, but the immediate lack of income is definitely an issue.
Sure, part-time jobs are a dime a dozen, but when it comes to our situation, the more money, the better, right?
‘What’s the point of knowing the future if I can’t use it right now?’
I know plenty about investments in this industry, but those are long-term plays, not quick cash for immediate needs.
For now, all I can do is flash a friendly smile and beg for more work.
In that sense, my gratitude isn’t entirely insincere.
‘The pay’s better at this hour.’
In my original life, around this time, I was too busy crying and searching for Zia to even remember Baek Kyungmin contacting me.
This is income I wouldn’t have had anyway, and with a higher rate? That’s a win.
No song should be too difficult for the current me.
“That’s him?”
At that moment, another figure appeared from behind Baek Kyungmin.
A wide face, flatfish-like eyes, and deep nasolabial folds—a classic “boomer” look.
A familiar face.
“Yes, sir. Yujin, say hello. You know who this is, right?”
Of course I do.
‘I’ve worked with this guy how many times?’
Bang Hokyung.
Even at this point, he’s undeniably one of the top star composers, with a three-digit hit song count.
A true hit-maker, his songs are so coveted that even established artists volunteer to do guide vocals.
In terms of inner familiarity, I feel closer to this guy than to Baek Kyungmin.
‘Though that’s just a memory only I have now.’
I pushed that sense of familiarity aside, bowed, and greeted him.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Han Yujin.”
Then, looking him straight in the eye, I said,
“I’d like to hear the song first.”
Bang Hokyung’s narrow eyebrows twitched.
The atmosphere turned chilly, and Baek Kyungmin, his face paling, opened his mouth to say something, but—
“Right. No time to waste, so let’s hear the track and talk. Kyungmin, play it for him. I’m stepping out for a smoke.”
With that, Bang Hokyung breezed out of the studio.
Baek Kyungmin pounced on me right after.
“Hey, what kind of greeting was that?! You’re lucky we’re short on time, or you’d be out the door!”
Watching his overreaction, I could only click my tongue inwardly.
‘This guy’s got no eye for people. No wonder he crashed and burned.’
Baek Kyungmin’s a decent guy with solid skills as an engineer, but his judgment is lacking.
If my memory’s correct, he got tangled up with some shady people and ended up blacklisted from the industry.
‘Bang Hokyung’s different.’
His old-school appearance and blunt speech rub people the wrong way, but Bang Hokyung is one of the most skill-obsessed composers I know—easily top-tier.
He’s the type to show respect to those he acknowledges, even speaking politely to someone like me, despite a 20-year age gap.
His philosophy? ‘Pros prove themselves with skill, not words.’
To him, grand promises like “I’ll do my best” are empty fluff, and common pleasantries like “I enjoy your songs” are practically taboo.
‘He knows his worth.’
Why bother saying people listen to his songs when he takes it for granted?
So, when working with Bang Hokyung, the key is to be direct, even bordering on cocky—it’s the right approach.
‘But if your skills don’t back it up, the backlash is no joke.’
And who am I?
The 2039 Grammy Award Record of the Year winner.
At my age right now, no one—absolutely no one—can match Bang Hokyung’s standards as well as I can.
Of course, I should probably smooth over this tense atmosphere first.
“Huh? What did I say? Is Han Yujin losing it? Man, I didn’t expect to meet the Bang Hokyung, so I must’ve lost my mind!”
Idol training includes acting lessons.
And I didn’t slack off on those either.
Fortunately, the atmosphere in the recording studio quickly improved.
‘Not because of my acting skills, though.’
It wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy, but it wasn’t bad either.
Aside from Baek Kyungmin, most people seemed to understand Bang Hokyung’s style, so there wasn’t much tension.
‘That’s good enough.’
The rest could be proven with skill.
“The song’s a bit rushed, so there are no lyrics yet. That okay?”
This kind of thing happens sometimes in this line of work.
The purpose of a guide vocal is to help singers who can’t immediately grasp sheet music understand the melody, so the absence of lyrics isn’t a huge issue.
In these cases, you can borrow lyrics from a song with a similar rhythm, or if that’s too much hassle, humming works just fine.
“Yeah, I’ll take a look and match the vibe.”
“Here’s the sheet music. The parts for the lyrics are marked, so check them out. I’ll play it for you now.”
Honestly, there was no need.
The moment I held the sheet music, the notes on the staff transformed into a melody, resonating in my head.
Ding-a-ling.
A slightly melancholic guitar intro.
I know this song well.
‘It came out this year, didn’t it?’
In my original life, I was too busy wallowing in despair over Zia to watch dramas, so it didn’t come to mind right away.
The drama ‘Second Time with You’.
Defying expectations of a typical romance, it revealed a subtle twist—that the “you” in the title referred to family. It was a well-crafted healing drama that won the Drama Category Grand Prize at that year’s Baeksang Arts Awards.
But what garnered even more attention than the drama was its main OST, ‘For You, a Moment’.
The lyrics, evoking the scenery seen from a subway ride after work, carried enough emotional weight to resonate with the struggles of ordinary workers in their 20s, 30s, and even 40s.
Even years after the drama ended, ‘For You, a Moment’ occasionally climbed the charts, a song covered by countless artists.
While I was lost in these thoughts, the guitar melody from the headset faded, and the song ended.
“Let me hear it one more time.”
“It’s a bit tricky, huh? Alright, let’s run it again.”
Tricky?
Not at all.
I know this song inside and out.
‘I never sang it myself… but Seonghoon did.’
Among the many artists who covered ‘For You, a Moment’ was Polaris’s lead vocalist, Seonghoon.
And who arranged it to suit Seonghoon’s voice? Me, Han Yujin, Polaris’s producer.
I’ve never sung it officially, but having deconstructed and rebuilt the song for someone else, my understanding of it is rock-solid.
“Hyung, one more time, please.”
Even so, I kept listening to the song because I needed time to think.
‘What do I do with this?’
They call it the curse of knowledge, don’t they?
The power of For You, a Moment lies in its melody, sure, but the lyrics hold a huge share of its impact.
Being a Bang Hokyung creation, I’m certain no lyrics could fit it better than the original ones.
The problem? Bang Hokyung hasn’t written the lyrics for For You, a Moment yet.
‘Lyrics? It doesn’t even have a title yet…’
Sure, I could recreate the song’s lonely essence, which struck a chord with countless workers, just by humming.
But…
‘When something more perfect is right in front of me…!’
As a singer, the knowledge that I could perform this song flawlessly with those lyrics stoked my ambition.
Yet, on the other side of the scale, another emotion kept my singer’s greed in check: my conscience as a fellow creator.
It wouldn’t be hard to sing it with the lyrics as if I didn’t know better.
And Bang Hokyung would notice immediately.
He’d realize there couldn’t be lyrics more fitting for this song.
‘Since he wrote those lyrics, he wouldn’t come up with anything more perfect.’
Then he’d put my name down as the lyricist.
My presence, having crafted lyrics that perfectly meet his standards, would grow in his mind.
The song would be perfect—obviously.
And that would increase the chances of me becoming the one to sing it.
‘If it’s Bang Hokyung, he’d definitely do that.’
That part doesn’t weigh on my conscience.
In this industry, it’s commonplace—almost routine—for a song or role to go to a more suitable singer or actor.
‘Ugh, this feels gross.’
A dilemma only someone who’s returned to the past could face stirs up my mind.
‘Just do it.’
The devil inside whispered.
A drama that would win the grand prize of the year, its soundtrack remembered and revisited time and again.
A connection with star composer Bang Hokyung.
And the storytelling of an unknown guide vocalist becoming the song’s rightful owner.
It’s an opportunity on par with winning a major audition, isn’t it?
‘Yeah, so what? No one would know.’
How is it any different from a web novel regressor hoarding all the opportunities?
Since I’ve already decided to walk a different path from my original life, taking chances meant for others won’t be a one-time thing.
As my singer’s greed began to tip the scales,
Bzzt.
My phone buzzed in my pocket like a bolt of lightning.
[Zia♥]
The moment I saw Zia’s name, my mind snapped awake.
‘What was I about to do?’
Having been given a chance to right my wrongs, I was about to become a monster again.
How is stealing Bang Hokyung’s work any different from Lee Heekyung driving Zia away from me?
My skills aren’t going anywhere.
The peak I’ve already reached once? I can climb it again, even if it takes a little longer.
So for now, I’ll take my time and look around.
With Zia by my side, it’ll be even more enjoyable.
So, let’s just take it easy, hum a little, and head back.
Maybe pick up some boneless chicken feet—Zia’s favorite—on the way.
For Zia, waking up around dusk, an unexpected late-night snack would be a pleasant surprise.
I took off the headset and turned to Baek Kyungmin.
“Hyung, sorry, I need to take a quick call. It’s really important. I’ll keep it short.”
“Alright, I did call you out in a rush. Just make it quick—don’t know when the boss will be back.”
“Yes, sir.”
I carefully set the headset down and darted to the bathroom in the corner of the studio.
“Where are you…?”
Zia’s sleepy, hoarse voice came through the phone.
Hearing it made me feel even more certain that my decision was right, and I answered with a smile.
“Kyungmin hyung called me to do a quick recording, so I stepped out for a bit.”
“Oh… I woke up and you weren’t there, so I got a little worried… Sorry, go do your work.”
Maybe because she was still half-asleep, her voice carried an unconcealed anxiety.
She was probably wondering if I’d left in anger over the late breakup talk.
There’s only one way to erase the guilt Zia hasn’t fully shaken off.
To keep showing her that she’s more important to me than anything else.
And I already know the simplest way to do that.
“I’ll finish up quick and head back. Go back to sleep. I love you.”
In my original life, I’d have cringed at such words, but I ended the call by expressing my feelings honestly.
It’s a shame I couldn’t see the “broken” Zia I could so vividly imagine, but…
‘I’ll have plenty of chances to see it from now on.’
I have no intention of stopping at just this one simple spell, so there’ll be many more opportunities.
‘Guess I really need to wrap this up fast.’
My reason to finish this recording quickly grew even stronger.
As I stepped out of the bathroom, I saw Bang Hokyung returning to the studio.
“Ready? Take a look at this. It’d be great if you could memorize it, but reading it’s fine too.”
He handed me a sheet of paper, seemingly torn from a notebook.
The moment I read the title scrawled at the top in messy handwriting,
[Working Title: For You, a Moment]
My mind changed.
This changes things a lot.