My Fired Uncle Is a Genius Guitarist? - Chapter 30

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Potter

◈ My Fired Uncle Is a Genius Guitarist? ◈

Chapter 30: That's Quite a Lot. Are You Sure?

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Every eye in the waiting area was on us.

I looked steadily back at him. How long had it been since we had stood face to face this close, with nothing between us? Remembering that the last time had been across a conference room table, I barely managed to hold back a bitter smile.

This Taeo was not that Kang Taeo. I had no debt to collect from, or repay to, the Kang Taeo of this world.

No one dared approach for an autograph, but pulling out their phones also felt awkward. That strange tension filled the entire waiting area. Even Noise Line, who had just won, were glancing over at us from a corner.

In an atmosphere where everyone was careful even to breathe, Kang Taeo looked around briefly before speaking in a low voice.

“This isn't really the place... Shall we move somewhere else for a moment?”

I had no reason to refuse. When I nodded, the manager standing behind him quickly pointed toward an empty waiting room and led the way.

I set the Fender case I had been carrying on my shoulder down on the floor. I could feel Yun Taerin, Bae Somi, and Cha Sion staring holes into the back of my head.

“U-Uncle...?”

Yun Taerin sounded dazed. She clearly had a mountain of questions.

“I'll be right back.”

I gave the kids a short answer and followed Kang Taeo. Behind me, the murmuring of the crowd broke out again.

During the short walk down the hallway to the empty waiting room, I ran through the numbers in my head.

Selling a song to a band was different from selling one to an idol or pop singer. A band's identity was built around writing its own songs. Even if I had a mountain of songs piled up, they were not something I could shove at just any band and ask them to buy.

But Muri was an exception.

I had already gone through all their music credits. Just over thirty percent of their songs were original songs written only by the members. Every other song had at least one outside composer or co-composer listed.

The reason was obvious. There was no one in the band who could keep producing songs.

In my previous life, I had written most of Muri's songs. Taeo, Wonwoo, and Gibeom were not particularly good at songwriting. And it did not seem like the guitarist who had replaced me was any better at it.

Someone had to fill that gap. And I knew better than anyone who could fill it best.

That was why I figured I could sell them as many songs as they wanted. It was why I had confidently told Kang Taeo, “I can write one for you,” when he made that joke.

The manager opened the door at the end of the hallway. A sign on it read, “Judges' Waiting Room.”

As the manager stood by the door, Kang Taeo pointed to the sofa inside.

“Have a seat.”

The moment I sat on the sofa across from him, Kang Taeo got straight to the point.

“What you said earlier... Was that true? You can write songs for us?”

“Yes.”

At my answer without a moment's hesitation, the smile at the corner of Kang Taeo's mouth faded. He stared at me silently for a while. He no longer looked like the relaxed judge trading jokes onstage, but like the musician who used to argue over songs in the rehearsal room.

Kang Taeo placed his clasped hands on the table and let out a quiet sigh.

“Still... are you going to keep that on?”

“What?”

“The mask. If we might be doing business over songs, it feels a little strange to talk without knowing what you look like.”

He had a point.

There were no company employees here, and this was not a public setting. If I thought about it, there was no reason to hide my identity from the Kang Taeo of this world. If I was going to sell him songs, it was better to talk face to face anyway.

I slowly raised my hand and slipped the mask loops off my ears. Then I removed the black cap I had pulled low and dropped it onto the table.

When the face hidden beneath the mask was revealed, Kang Taeo stopped speaking and looked me over. Then his brow narrowed slightly.

“...Excuse me.”

Kang Taeo tilted his head a little and carefully opened his mouth.

“Have we really... met somewhere before? I've felt something strange since earlier.”

His eyes were uncertain. He could not place me yet. It made sense. The Lee Han Yong in his memories was a skinny little anchovy from sixteen years ago, while the person sitting in front of him now was a 105-kilogram potbellied man.

I did not avoid the question.

“We met before.”

“...When?”

“Sixteen years ago. After I passed the audition, we practiced together for about a week.”

For a moment, Kang Taeo's gaze wandered through the air. His eyes darted as if he were digging through old memories.

At last, a breathy exclamation escaped him.

“...Ah.”

Kang Taeo's eyes widened. He finally put the pieces together, overcoming the sixteen-year gap and my drastically changed build.

“...Lee Han Yong?”

I only gave a small nod instead of answering. There was no need to explain everything that had happened to me in detail. He did not ask what I had been doing for the last sixteen years either. Stories of people giving up music and disappearing were all too common in this industry.

Kang Taeo muttered with a short, incredulous laugh.

“...Ah. That's why you're One Dragon. Han, Yong.”

“Yes.”

“Wow...”

A faint smile returned to his lips. I had gone from an unidentified man in a mask to the guitarist who had confidently made it into his band sixteen years ago. Once he confirmed who I was, the wariness in his eyes visibly eased.

“Wait, should we drop the formalities now...? We were the same age. I think we spoke casually back then.”

“...”

Dropping the formalities. I did not mind. Until recently, we had spoken casually to each other, so it would be more comfortable for me.

But it would be different for him. We both knew that changing how we spoke would not restore a relationship that had ended sixteen years ago.

“No wonder... I've felt strange since I saw you onstage. You seemed like someone I'd never met, but it didn't feel like I was seeing you for the first time.”

His face was full of questions. I silently unscrewed the cap of the water bottle on the table.

“But back then...”

“Yes?”

“...Never mind. Let's talk about the past another time. That's not why I came here today.”

Kang Taeo shook his head and stopped himself. It seemed he had chosen not to pry. I did not add anything either. I had not come here to talk about old times. I had come to sell songs.

“To be honest.”

Kang Taeo adjusted his posture and spoke again.

“After I was assigned to judge, I watched videos of all ten finalist teams. But I don't know how many times I replayed Footsteps. RUN was also very good today. The two songs have completely different styles, but strangely, both were exactly my taste.”

He looked like he did not know why himself. But I did. He had always liked the songs I made best.

“They're a little different from the songs we've been putting out lately. This is the kind of music I like.”

He shrugged with a self-mocking smile.

“Do you know what rock fans have been calling us lately?”

“...I don't.”

“Old-man idols. Old-man idols. We do fairly well on the charts, but people in the rock scene call us that.”

I almost laughed at the familiar phrase. I never expected to hear it directly from the person in question after hearing Assistant Manager Kim giggling about it behind a monitor.

“So I wanted to know more. What kind of person wrote these songs. And for our next album... I want to try going in a different direction.”

It was not something the vocalist of the number-two band on the domestic charts would normally say in an amateur competition's waiting room. At the same time, that was exactly why it sounded sincere.

Kang Taeo abruptly changed the subject, as if to lighten the mood.

“What did you think of Noise Line's performance earlier?”

He did not seem to be testing me. It was simply the pure curiosity of a fellow musician.

“It was good. It had the highest level of completion of all the teams today.”

Then, as if it were nothing, I added,

“If not for the bass right before the second chorus, it would have been flawless.”

“...”

I shrugged as though it were no big deal.

“Well, they caught up immediately, so it did not rise to the level of an accident.”

It was exactly the same assessment Kang Taeo had made as a judge.

“You heard that through the waiting room speakers...”

He murmured to himself, then looked at me again. His expression said he had become certain of something. I simply watched the change in him without pretending to know what it was.

“So... when can you have the songs ready?”

Kang Taeo returned to the main subject.

“You have a job now, and writing new ones would take time.”

“I already have songs.”

“...What?”

“Songs that would suit Muri, too.”

Kang Taeo fell silent. A few seconds passed.

“...You know our songs well?”

“I've listened to them a lot.”

It was not a lie. I just did not say which world's Muri I meant.

Kang Taeo studied me for a moment, then broke into a pleased smile.

“I want to hear them. How many songs do you have?”

“How many do you need?”

“As many as you have.”

“I have quite a lot. Are you sure?”

This time, Kang Taeo laughed out loud. He seemed to think I was joking.

At Kang Taeo's glance toward the manager by the door, the manager quietly approached and handed me an expensive-looking business card.

“Our email address is here. Send the demos to the company, and I'll review them right away and get in touch.”

I accepted the card. Contact information and an email address printed beneath the agency name. The way out for the songs sleeping in my drawer was written on that single piece of paper.

Kang Taeo stood and held out his hand.

“Then I'll be waiting, Mr. Lee Han Yong.”

“You can look forward to it.”

‘I’ll pick songs you'll love and send them over.’

After we shook hands, he walked toward the door, then turned back with his hand on the knob.

“Oh, and about that 100 points earlier.”

“Yes?”

“Today was the first time I've ever given a perfect score to someone else's stage, judging or otherwise.”

Leaving only those words behind, Kang Taeo grinned and left the room. The manager followed with a brief bow, and the door soon closed.

Alone in the empty waiting room, I looked down at the business card in my hand once more.

Click.

The moment I opened the waiting room door, something lurched forward at me.

“Eek!”

Yun Taerin, who had been pressing her ear against the door, lost her balance and nearly fell. I barely managed to catch her. Behind her, Bae Somi hurriedly stepped back with her face bright red, while Cha Sion leaned against the wall and pretended she had heard nothing.

It was obvious that the three of them had been lined up with their ears against the door until just now. Yun Taerin rushed at me with a question.

“What did he say?! Is he really going to buy songs from you?”

“Keep your voice down.”

“W-What did you talk about in there...?”

Bae Somi carefully asked too, her face still flushed. Cha Sion quietly came closer and got to the point.

“So, are you giving him some?”

“Yeah.”

“...What about our songs?”

Cha Sion's eyes wavered slightly.

“I'm not giving him those. Yours are separate.”

Only then did Cha Sion's expression visibly relax. Yun Taerin, who had been watching beside her, narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“You're not giving all the good ones to Muri, are you?”