Chapter 10 #3
“Your list?” Lia asked curiously as they walked up to the counter to pay for the CD and order their coffees. The owner’s eyes widened when he looked up at Cal, but seemed to respect that he was wearing a mask and a cap for a reason, and told them their einspanner coffees would be served to them.
“My list.” Cal nodded, sitting across her with a CD player between them. “I wrote it the night before we debuted. A list of the dreams I want to achieve with CoBOLT.”
He hesitated, as if catching himself on something. Whatever it was, Cal seemed to decide to let it go, because he continued to retrieve his wallet, a surprisingly old, worn leather thing crammed with slips of paper, scribbled notes on receipts and bills stashed between credit cards.
In a deep, hidden pocket was a hidden, folded piece of yellow paper.
The paper was softened and wrinkled, the creases deepening over time, and the ink fading a bit.
Some of the items were crossed out, some items were added in.
Cal spread the fragile paper on the table and showed it to her.
The crossed items were dreams they had already achieved—debut, music show win, live album, rookie of the year, Asia tour. Easy things.
But the others were still there, some items crossed out only to be rewritten.
Daesang
Billboard Chart
Tokyo Dome
World Tour
Grammy
“They all sound like good dreams,” Lia told him, touching the tip of the paper like it was a precious, fragile thing, and she supposed it was, to him.
“Bomseok hated this list. Called it my Dream Big List.” He smiled wanly.
It was hard to hide the hurt in his eyes, and Lia couldn’t resist the urge to take his hand, to brush her thumb over the back of his palm.
“I think he stopped believing in it, in the end. And to be honest, I still don’t know if it’s doable for us as we are now.
Other groups have achieved it. Maybe it isn’t for us. ”
“It’s his loss to stop believing in you,” Lia insisted. “I know he was my bias wrecker, but how could he not believe in you? If I had my way—”
“Again?” Cal was joking to relieve the tension, but Lia was determined not to let this slide. She had things to say, okay.
“Bastos ka.” She rolled her eyes. She tapped the side of the paper. “This list shows me that this band is everything to you. You’ve carried it with you for ten years, at least. And me, as a fan, I want all of this for you, too.”
“Tell me,” he said, and there was a fondness in his gaze that warmed her cheeks. “If you had your way. What would you do?”
She didn’t have to guess. Lia knew her eyes sparkled. It was like someone calling her up to the podium to talk about how to create a spreadsheet, an engaging deck, or “is anyone here an older sister?” This was how you activated her.
“You should be a band,” Lia began, and the words were ones she always felt like she had with her, but never had a reason to say out loud, until now.
“Not a KPop band, a band. Labelling all the music that comes out of Korea as ‘K-Pop’ feels entirely limiting. The fact that US Award shows feel the need to make KPop a separate category is ridiculous to me. It’s like the bookstores lumping all locally published books under a ‘Filipinana’ section. ”
“They do?”
“A different crisis.” She shook her head. “But I think CoBOLT should be a band. People should know you for your performances, for your live shows. You guys shine the best in live performances, when you’re doing that leg thing over your guitar—”
“That’s where the fanfic girls got it, didn’t they.”
“Or when you and Siwan turn to play your instruments facing Soobin because you don’t want him to feel lonely. You can reach new audiences on TinyDesk or Vocal Kill. Radio One Live, too! Japan has that Take One series now, too. You guys would be amazing on that.”
“You really think we could be on TinyDesk?”
“I think you would be phenomenal on Tiny Desk.” Lia gasped.
“Imagine your little screamy thing from ‘Coffee Baby’ in a small setup? You would shake the walls. You would get Soobin closer, too, in a performance setting, and Siwan, of course, just dazzling. I’m sure there are local TV equivalents of these too, doesn’t Seo Minji have one? ”
“Her super successful live radio show, yes.” Cal smiled, nodding. “What else?”
“Then you guys would fill the time between those tapings with festival performances. University fairs, Fuji Rock, Summer Crush in LU? It would mean a lot of touring, but it’s a great way to get a new, younger audience.
Then who knows? Another Asia tour? US? You weirdly have a lot of Brazilian fans too, you should play a few shows there. ”
“You can see us doing all of that?” Cal asked her. “Still?”
“Ano ka ba.” She scoffed. “Yes.”
She couldn’t read the look on his face when he blinked at her. She hoped it was all good things, but at the moment, it made her squirm and want to look away. There was an intensity there that she wasn’t quite ready for. Was he getting ready to tell her why she was wrong?
“God, that all sounds amazing,” he said instead.
And now it was Lia’s turn to be surprised.
“I would love to do it that way. But we can’t do it without a company,” Cal pointed out.
“And most companies scoff at their artists having ideas about both management and music production. We were lucky we have what we have with BINJ.”
“Maybe ten years ago,” Lia said. Because she’d been looking this up, obviously, catching herself up in an industry she’d walked away from. “But isn’t Damask encouraging that from their artists now? KST famously write their own music, ask things of their companies all the time.”
“Yeah, they do.” Cal’s laugh was bitter, like Lia had just asked if he still liked pie, except his current diet didn’t allow it.
Einspanner coffee, yes, pie no, apparently.
He crossed his arms and leaned back on his seat, and Lia knew she was going to have to stop pushing him on this.
She did. But she didn’t want the conversation to end here.
She wouldn’t let it. “We’re nowhere near KST, though. ”
“You’re nearer than most groups,” Lia reminded him. “Also Damask doesn’t have a rock band on their roster or their other labels yet. Isn’t Seo Minji signed with them?”
“Yes, but I’m not going to call her and say ‘Minji-yah, BINJ is kicking us out and my band’s on the verge of breaking up, can I maybe get a meeting?’’”
“What was it someone wise once said to me about connections? If it gets you what you want, doesn’t hurt anyone?” Lia mused, tapping her chin like she was totally lost in thought. And, since she was already deep into this conversation, she held up her fist close to her cheek. “CoBOLT, fighting!”
Cal’s loud burst of laughter filled the cafe as they were served their coffees. And that was how Lia learned what an einspanner was. It was cold, it had some kind of foam, and it was really bitter.
“You’re a great friend, Lia,” Cal told her. “Things don’t feel so impossible when you say them.”
“I am a great friend.” She said without a hint of self-consciousness or irony, taking a sip of her coffee. “People don’t appreciate me enough.”
“They really don’t,” Cal agreed.
That was when the owner of Loser Records came up to them with an apologetic smile, an acoustic guitar and a felt-tip pen. Lia hadn’t understood what was happening in the moment, but when Cal had the guitar on his lap and a pen hovering, she pulled out another handy vocabulary word she’d kept close.
“Handphone?” she said, offering to take photos and videos for the store owner.
Because she was a great friend, duh.
post by @LoserRecords
Thanks for dropping by the store @CoboltCal ! The guitar needed breaking in :) [translated from Korean]
Posted one hour ago
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Comments:
@Soobinx91(verified) Hyung why didn’t you invite me!
@Siwan (verified) *eye emoji* not jealous at all
@Minjiipers (verified) @Soobinx91 @siwan please tell Cal oppa to call me!