Chapter Seventeen: I've Been Targeted

“Achoo, achoo…”

“Are you coming down with a cold?”

“The weather has turned cold so quickly these past couple of days; I must have caught a slight chill. It’s nothing serious.” The man rubbed his nose and gazed quite earnestly at the woman standing before the recording studio.

Lee Ji-eun, a figure of considerable influence in the Korean music scene, was now standing right in front of him. After that contract signing and the ensuing buzz, he was finally meeting this senior artist from the same company again.

“Won’t your throat be affected?”

“I’ve been taking throat lozenges and drinking warm water, so it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“You should rest first. I’ll inform the producer in the studio to wait for you.”

IU, dressed in a sky-blue sweatshirt, still looked somewhat concerned and decided to postpone the originally scheduled recording session for a while.

Fortunately, neither she nor the senior in front of her had any other commitments today, so it wouldn’t cause much delay.

Though he longed to shed the labels attached to him, the man held deep respect for the gentle senior IU and didn’t object to the company’s arranged collaboration.

He cradled a cup of warm water as he sat on the sofa outside the studio, watching the senior converse with the recording engineer. Only when he saw the approving hand gesture did he finally relax.

“All set. The producer said he can wait until you’re ready to start recording.”

Though she was nearly thirty, one could still see traces of a girl in her—bouncing and hopping out of the studio with none of the airs usually held by a senior artist.

“Thank you, senior.”

“Don’t be so quick to thank me. If your performance isn’t up to par, the producer will scold both of us.”

“In that case, I’ll stand with the producer and join in on the scolding.”

For a veteran who had been in the industry for over a decade, recording wasn’t a difficult task.

Yet even at IU’s level, she still had to listen to the producer in the studio and risk being reprimanded.

“Take care of your throat next time. For a singer, the voice is far more important than looks.”

Lee Ji-eun was a responsible senior. She not only wished to support this promising junior in his work but also hoped to offer advice to help him avoid unnecessary detours.

For instance, greeting staff backstage during promotions, protecting the voice as much as possible, and focusing on creating good music rather than relying solely on appearance—these were experiences she was willing to share.

Besides, the young man was indeed quite good-looking.

No wonder a fresh wave of young girls had gathered near the company entrance recently—it was all because of him.

She could also tell that the company placed great importance on Lim Soo-hah, repeatedly using their own influence to pave a smooth road to fame for him.

Whether others were willing to admit it or not, having a connection to IU did make gaining recognition somewhat easier.

Such treatment, bestowed upon a newly debuted artist, was enviable enough.

“By the way, has the company discussed your year-end schedule with you?”

As the year drew to a close, various awards were already in nomination and voting stages, and TV stations had begun contacting agencies to organize their year-end performance lineups.

“For now, they’re in talks with SBS,” Lim Soo-hah thought back to what his manager had mentioned a few days ago.

“SBS usually has a solid lineup,” Lee Ji-eun nodded. This news didn’t surprise her; the company’s relationship with SBS was consistently good, making it not too difficult to secure a performance stage for promising rookies.

However, participating in the year-end music festival was no simple recording session—it required full dedication to earn recognition.

But the rewards were also substantial; outstanding stage clips could easily surpass a million views.

“It hasn’t been finalized yet.”

“It’s not a difficult matter.”

Whenever Loen proactively arranged stages for their artists, TV stations seldom objected.

After all, the pre-announced artist lineups were never guaranteed 100% attendance—there were always last-minute dropouts due to health or scheduling conflicts.

Rather than scrambling to find replacements at the last minute, it was better to prepare in advance.

Word had it this year’s music festival would feature many special stages; it remained unknown which group he would be assigned to.

“The year-end music festival’s audience is very broad. Seize the opportunity, and you’ll surely get what you want.”

IU patted the young man’s shoulder. She didn’t like to always play the senior role—it felt stifling. She’d rather hang out with friends or sit by a window, quietly enjoying a light drink.

“All right, if you’ve rested enough, let’s get to work. This is quite a big project.”

Lee Ji-eun lazily rose from the sofa. After going over the necessary notes, she naturally wanted to finish this task sooner rather than later.

To be fair, Lim Soo-hah’s talent was top-tier; otherwise, he wouldn’t have received so much praise and attention right upon debut.

It was just that he lacked experience, and collaborating with a national treasure like IU naturally made him nervous.

“You’re singing too forcefully. Relax your throat!”

...

“Too tense, relax a bit.”

...

“Relax, don’t waste everyone’s time.”

...

“I hope what I say today won’t need repeating tomorrow. Once you enter the studio, you must ensure you’re in a state you’re satisfied with. If you’re not ready, don’t waste our time.”

As expected, the odd little old man producer pulled out the newbie who always slipped up during recording and gave him a fierce scolding.

Lim Soo-hah was well aware of his shortcomings. As the song’s rightful singer, his performance today convinced no one.

The man, barely daring to breathe during the reprimand, only whispered a farewell to the producer after leaving the studio.

“I told you, you must be prepared before recording.”

IU was helpless. This was already the best condition she could secure for him. With such conditions but such a performance, not only the producer but she herself felt like scolding him.

The original song was clearly credited to Lim Soo-hah—how could he sing it like this?

“Practice well. Now that you’ve caught the producer’s attention, if you can’t deliver something satisfactory…”

“What will happen?” Lim Soo-hah looked dazed, his mind still not fully present.

“You’ll suffer terribly.”

“Singing isn’t just about showing off tricks. Your voice is excellent, and your foundation solid. This poor performance is all in your head.”

“Relax, will you? If the junior of Lee Ji-eun performs like this, it’ll be hard for me to get by in this industry.”