Chapter 11 #3
The music video ended with a final, dramatic pose, leaving the five of them stewing in a thick, uncomfortable silence.
Andy, perhaps, the most uncomfortable of all.
Cracking a breezy grin and tossing out a cheesy joke would’ve easily broken the group’s tension.
Something a leader would do, steering everyone from their despair toward a more helpful, moving-forward mindset.
But it wouldn’t have been real. Only deflecting the inevitable.
“I think we can all probably agree that we’re in for an interesting challenge with this song,” Andy finally said.
Tae Woo quietly huffed. “With all respect, sunbaenim, I know you're being facetious. But I genuinely believe it's a good song. A lot of people still like it.”
“You still don't get it,” Min Jae sharply countered. “We’re not just covering this song. We’re reinventing it. How much you or the Dream Makers like the original is irrelevant.”
Tae Woo frowned, either at Min Jae’s rebuke or finally understanding the situation for what it was. But Woo Jin spoke up next.
“So, we could do anything we like, then. Right? Like, turn that sickeningly syrupy bridge into a sick rap section.”
Min Jun excitedly nodded. “And level up the harmonies. They had five guys, too. But they were only doing two or three-part harmonies.”
Woo Jin chuckled. “Hell, yeah. Five-part harmonies and a sick rap bridge.”
“And make it darker,” Min Jae added. “Costumes all in black and oxblood. Amp up the bassline like a heartbeat.”
Woo Jin snorted. “No way. I mean, no offense, hyung, but turning it into some emo rocker track would be just as bad, but dressed in black.”
Andy frowned, both at Woo Jin’s comment and his surprising pushback to his former leader.
“No, we’re not doing that, Woo Jin.” Everyone turned to him.
“We’re brainstorming right now, so no takedowns of other ideas.
It just kills the flow.” Woo Jin opened his mouth to reply, but Andy didn’t give him the space for it.
“And I like where Min Jae’s going with this.
” Min Jae’s right eyebrow floated up, but Andy ignored that, too.
“Going dark is a good start. But we should push it further than that. Really dig into the song’s foundation.
” He turned to Tae Woo. “What’s it about? ”
Tae Woo’s eyebrows bunched together. “I’m sorry?”
“The song. What’s the song about? What do the lyrics say?”
Tae Woo frowned. “It’s a basic love confession. The singers are confessing their feelings to the girl of their dreams. If she chooses them, they say they’ll be together forever.”
Andy nodded. “Basic, yeah. Not exactly groundbreaking stuff, but it’s meant for a broad audience, so it has to stick with the most broadly appealing concepts.
” He turned to Min Jae, ignoring Min Jae’s apparent surprise and his own, deeply buried anger.
Deal with that later. “You said make it dark, and that’s just as basic.
Dark versus light. But you meant more than that, right?
Not just putting us all in black leather. ”
Min Jae’s other eyebrow floated up. “I did.” Not exactly a question or confirmation.
Andy nodded anyway. “Exactly.” He glanced at Woo Jin and Min Jun.
“And your killer rap bridge and five-part harmonies. Those are great ways to showcase our skills. But, what ties it all together?” The idea was there, floating just out of Andy’s reach.
If he just kept going– “What makes it current? What makes it relatable to a modern, more sophisticated audience?”
“Sex.” Everyone turned to Min Jun, who seemed just as surprised as them that he’d said that aloud. “The song glosses over the implication that the singer is attracted to her.”
Woo Jin burst out with an almost forced laugh. “That’s what you think this song needs? A little fucking?”
Andy ignored Woo Jin’s outburst, focusing on a random point on the wall as he let his mind work.
Sex would definitely work, but that wasn’t quite right.
Sex appeal definitely sold, but he wanted to push it further.
Not just sex, but– “Seduction. That’s how we make it dark.
That’s how we update it. It’s not a love confession.
It’s a lust confession.” He turned to Min Jae.
“It’s sultry darkness, with black and oxblood, because we’re setting a sensual mood.
” To Woo Jin. “Your killer rap bridge leans into your sex appeal.” To Min Jun.
“We expand the vocal harmonies into the lower register to make them a little more dangerous.” And, finally, to Tae Woo.
“And it all honors the original song, updating it in an honest, open way.”
Andy sat back, letting everyone absorb his pitch, knowing it was the right direction. Beating everyone over the head with it wouldn’t help. He needed their buy-in.
Woo Jin slowly nodded. “Okay, I see it. I could rap more in my lower register, too. Spit harder, but slower. More deliberate. Give it some sauce. I like it.”
Min Jun was nodding, too. “Lower harmonies would give the melody more depth. Make it sound more mature.”
“This totally turns the song on its ear,” Tae Woo countered. Then he grinned. “I really like it.”
That left Min Jae. Andy expected him to protest just to be defiant, like he’d been on the treadmill that morning. Or, to gaslight everyone into thinking it was his idea. That would actually be fine. Andy didn’t want the credit. He wanted to win.
“I can already see several ways,” Min Jae finally admitted, “where we can build on the original choreo. Make it more sensual.” He glanced around the room. “As long as you all don’t mind taking some risks.”
“Taking risks is the name of this game,” Woo Jin replied.
Andy nodded. “Hell yeah, it is. We’re risking it all just by being here.” He leaned forward, finally allowing himself to grin. “And now it’s you and me, forever.”