Chapter 7 #2
“Here’s one,” Cal said, and then proceeded to sing the jingle for QQ Shake, the popular jelly drink the band famously shot a commercial for, with music that Cal proudly announced paid for his first jeonse. She laughed so hard she nearly fell off her chair, especially when Cal started dancing.
And when you do the QQ
You have to shake it too too
And so it was with that friendly camaraderie that she agreed to join Cal, her brother, and the rest of the band for an afternoon at BINJ.
They were in the recording studio today, contrary to Lia’s request for no spoilers.
But she could get pretty absorbed with work when she needed to lock in, and so she was content to sit in a corner of the couch in the control room.
“We’re recording this song live. Part of the whole ‘we’re giving everything a shot,’ approach.
” Teddy was telling Lia from his spot behind a large panel with more buttons and switches than Lia had anxieties.
Despite nibbling on a kimbap roll at 2PM for lunch, he was in high spirits, which, to Lia, was always a good sign.
“It’s the most insane thing to want, in a time crunch like this. ”
“Why?”
“It’s kind of like choosing to watch a musical versus a movie.
” Teddy explained. “You have the time to finesse every second of a performance in a movie, really fine tune a song to the best version you can make it in the time you have. And Cal likes to go by line when he does it, sometimes doing the harmonies on the spot so the producer can keep layering it later on. Then he listens back and repeats or edits.”
“I take it you can’t do that live.”
“Definitely not.” Teddy snorted. “Doing it live is preserving a moment as it happens—with all the mistakes and the decisions and ad-libs, even. A musical usually runs more than once, and an audience member can get a different show every time. Every song in this album will contain everything that makes a moment. It’s messy and chaotic and even harder to contain.
But every time the band performs the songs will be different from this record. Better, we’re hoping.”
“It’s like giving themselves a place to start over again from,” Lia said immediately, and at her brother’s raised brow, she said nothing. “You know, for a guy who doesn’t know his way out of a mall, you look like you know what you’re doing.”
“I am bad at directions, it’s true.”
“Yeah, Andi told me about that time you had to call her to find your way out of Greenbelt.”
“Yeah, because how are there FIVE Greenbelts? Stupid.” Teddy ran a hand through his hair.
He mumbled something about it being his job and kept talking to the sound engineer about…
whatever it was he had to say to a sound engineer.
Had Lia told him lately how proud she was of him that he was doing this?
On the other side of the glass, the band was setting up, Siwan tuning his bass while Cal was reviewing what Lia guessed was some kind of song hits with Soobin. Did Cal know what song hits were?
“They already know the song?” Lia asked curiously.
“Well, Cal toplined the song. Toplining is—“
“An artist writing lyrics and vocal arrangements on an existing track.” Lia supplied. “I’m living with an idol and a producer. Also, Siwan told me.”
“They’ve rehearsed it a few times, too, on top of their usual rehearsals,” Teddy said, still not looking up from…Lia still had no idea what he was doing. He pressed a button on the panel and said, “We’re almost ready, guys.”
Cal gave him a thumbs up in return before putting his guitar down and leaving the room to speak to one of the staff. Soobin was speaking to one of the engineers about the hi-hat, and Siwan was stretching.
“They rehearse between albums?” Lia asked, and whatever button Teddy had pressed for them to hear her must have still been on, because the two remaining boys looked through the glass to look right at her. “What?”
“Of course we rehearse between albums,” Siwan answered first, throwing her an odd look.
Even if all Lia could think was, ‘oh wow, blessed with a Siwan face that isn’t 100% sarcasm.
’ “Our usual schedule would mean we’re promoting a new single in Korea while touring a Japanese album.
Then, when we decide to stage a new Korean release, we have to arrange live performances. So, rehearsals will always be needed.”
“It keeps the band synced,” Soobin added, after asking Siwan for the right word. “The schedule can get crazy, and rehearsals make it harder to make mistakes.”
“And you don’t get tired of it, huh,” she said, more to herself than him.
Because surely being a model for brands in France and Italy, and having commercial deals in America, was more lucrative.
Siwan, in particular, had walked for Hermes during the last Paris Fashion Week.
And Soobin was literally heading off to start filming for a new drama in a few months!
“I suppose I just love it.” Siwan shrugged.
“It…” She half expected him to give her a pithy remark of some kind.
“It’s still surreal to me that people want to hear us play.
But I love being on stage. I love people getting interested in the bass, in hearing me.
It’s not exactly the instrument you hear first—”
From the back, the sessionist playing rhythm guitar strummed a couple of chords, pressing down on a pedal by his feet, as if to prove Siwan’s point.
“—but it’s mine,” Siwan continued. Lia did not miss the bit of fondness in his voice.
“Did you know that the company used to pay the music shows so we could perform live?” At the confused tilt of Lia’s head, Siwan continued.
“When we debuted, when we performed for music shows, we had to hand sync. Meaning a backing track would play, and we would have to pretend to be playing while Cal hyung sang. Bomseok hyung was the first to point out how stupid we looked.”
“I remember that!” Soobin added, shaking his head like the thought was absolutely silly now. “I had a few sunbaes ask me if we actually knew how to play. Thought we were faking it.”
“So Bomseok hyung and Cal hyung put on a united front to convince the company that something had to be done. That we were a band, and we had to actually play music. But the shows themselves weren’t set up to accommodate live performances.
So they gave the agency a number to make it happen.
The agency said yes. And now they have at least three bands performing every recording. ”
Lia hadn’t realized she’d completely stopped working until she felt her laptop click shut. She’d never heard this story before. She hadn’t even realized it was an issue, although she did remember it was odd in those early days that the stage wasn’t a mess of wires when they were on it.
But the band had hit mainstream the moment they debuted, and she supposed that gave them a little more negotiating power, allowing them to pave the way for newer, younger acts.
“Hey, Siwan. I don’t think I’ve heard you talk this much about our early days.” Cal said from the front, reclaiming Lia’s attention. The fondness in his eyes had a very Daddy Hen pride to it. “Maybe next time you should be the one to talk to reporters and agencies.”
“I should,” Siwan agreed. “Old men need their rest.”
“I second the motion,” Lia joked.
“Aray!” Cal said, clutching his chest as if Lia shot him with an arrow. “Should I be jealous?”
“Uh, why would you be?” Lia asked from behind the glass, reopening her laptop because she was supposed to be making a deck with her ideas for the album relaunch! She was supposed to be locked in! “You already had your turn as my bias. Give chance to others.”
“Oh right,” he nodded like he’d completely forgotten. “I’ve always enjoyed a good exes to lovers story myself.”
Lia almost fell off the couch chair, and Cal had the audacity to laugh this time. They couldn’t see her, could they? “Who taught you about tropes, sir?”
“I learned it from the same place you did. Do you know Ao3?” he told her with a wink before his attention was called by one of the backup vocalists, and he turned away.
God help her. He broke delulu rule number one, and they’d only known each other for a month! She was so not locked in.
In front of her, Teddy very clearly pressed the same button that allowed the band to hear her talk. The engineer had since left the live room, and Dong Yeon, the band’s manager, was in the corner, doing a better job than Lia of actually doing some work.
“Hey, Ate?” her brother suddenly asked, and Lia shook her head as she looked back at her document. What the hell was she trying to say with this sentence, “—opportunities for sdfhassldffhjkk,” what a mystery.
“Hmm?” locked in. She was locked in.
“Have you heard the new song?”
“No, I—” she almost said she was trying to avoid spoilers, but no, she was typing here. “I don’t know how I would have.”
“How did you find out about that park with the pink grass?”
“Oh, the one I posted on Instagram? It was…recommended.”
“And CoBOLT’s first single is called—?”
“Bolt of Blue,” Lia said immediately. She didn’t realize what she’d done until her brother’s face changed from relaxed old cat to evil kitten. “Damn it! Who told you?”
“Oh please. I have eyes.” Teddy rolled said eyes. “You and Ate shook the entire house when you were watching that KDrama together. I know you and Cal are friends. And I know because I see you and him sending each other illicit thirst traps in a secret group chat.”
Lia's jaw hung open in shock. She knew her brother was observant, she just never thought he would use those powers on her…? “Teddy, it is not a secret group chat if it's just two people! And just because it’s a selfie doesn’t mean it’s a thirst trap!”
“And I also know you were the CoBOLT fan because Ate Frankie just asked me what the drummer’s name was.”
“Ate’s a Soobin bias?” Lia asked, to confirm, and Teddy nodded.
“As a fan, do you think recording the song live in a studio is a good idea?”