Chapter 186: Distortion (2)
“What’s the title?”
“Ah. I’m not sure. I don’t think it’s been decided yet. Right now, it just has a bit of humming in a foreign language, so the lyrics will probably be written anew.”
The song’s title was still undecided.
But even without hearing its name, I could already tell with certainty—this was a completely different song from that one.
It was a slightly different situation from our debut album days.
Back then, thanks to Cha Seongbin, the quality of the sample song had been improved… but this time, the entire foundation of the song was different.
The beat’s rhythm was different, the tempo was different too.
There were no overlapping parts in the melody either.
It was only after listening to the guide track from the A&R team a couple more times that I could finally let go and accept it.
This was just a different song.
“……”
Then where did that one go?
I wanted to know what had happened to the song that was supposed to be the original title track.
So, though it might’ve seemed a bit odd, I carefully brought it up.
“There’s something I’m curious about. By any chance, was a sample song titled Flexion submitted to the song camp?”
“Flexion…?”
The A&R team staff looked thoughtful, their expressions clouded with concentration.
They were the ones who had received countless sample tracks from the composers during the song camp.
Of course, among them would be songs hastily made and below standard, but the majority were good enough to be included in an album right away.
And if it was a candidate for the upcoming albums of the artists under Doubles, they would’ve listened carefully—and if it had a familiar title, they’d surely remember it.
However—
The responses I got were lukewarm at best.
Kim Seyoung, manager of the A&R team, tilted his head and answered.
“That’s the first I’ve heard of it. I don’t think there was a song like that.”
“Me too… Do you happen to remember the melody? I can try searching for it.”
There was a chance that Flexion had its title changed, but it felt risky to suddenly hum the melody here.
They might suspect the leak of an unreleased song. I waved my hands and let out a light laugh.
“No, it’s fine. I just feel like I’ve heard that title somewhere recently.”
Fortunately, they didn’t seem to think much of it.
I naturally shifted the topic to something else and moved on.
And then, a week later—
I heard news of that one from an unexpected place.
.
.
.
.
Cha Seongbin’s studio. The small studio space Doubles had set aside so he could focus on composing was now packed with sound equipment to the point there was barely any space to stand.
Seongbin had always said he worked best alone, so not many of the other members visited this place often...
‘I heard you’ve been struggling to come up with new songs lately. Is it a slump or something?’
I’d come to the studio to console a worried Cha Seongbin, and while I was there, I got to hear some unreleased sample tracks.
“This song…”
I murmured in a trembling voice. Seongbin turned to me with wide eyes.
“What? You don’t like it?”
What I’d just heard was one of Cha Seongbin’s Unreleased Sample Tracks No. 7.
A heavy bass line, with a synth sound mysteriously woven in.
A blend of powerful yet dreamy melodies—it was clearly the Flexion I knew.
So this was Cha Seongbin’s composition.
No wonder it wasn’t included in the song camp selections.
Seongbin looked up at me with a puzzled expression, but truth be told, I was just as confused as he was.
I swallowed and asked him,
“Why didn’t you submit this song this time?”
“Uh…”
Before choosing the title track, the A&R team had also reached out to Cha Seongbin for a song.
He’d contributed a lot to Stardust’s title tracks since the debut album.
Doubles already regarded him as an equal composer.
Being a team member didn’t earn him any special points, but if the song was good, the A&R team was more than willing to consider it fairly.
So they must have asked him for one—why didn’t he give them this?
That was what I wanted to know.
After a moment’s hesitation, Cha Seongbin let out a short reply.
“I wasn’t sure about it.”
“Weren’t sure?”
I frowned, trying to grasp what he meant.
The Seongbin I knew never really had a strong sense of certainty in himself, but hadn’t he gotten better compared to the past?
He used to have such a fragile mentality he’d considered quitting the team altogether.
But now, he was doing just fine, and he seemed more confident in his composing than before.
So why had he left Flexion, a song he’d released without issue in the previous life, buried on his hard drive?
I spoke with a reluctant expression.
“You’re good at composing, hyung.”
“No, not that kind of certainty. I know I’m good at composing now~.”
He smiled sheepishly and continued.
“I mean certainty in this song.”
I blinked and turned to look at him. Judging by his small smile, he was being sincere.
“Why? You don’t think this song is good?”
“It feels lacking.”
He clicked the mouse and played the guide track again.
The Flexion I knew flowed from the speakers.
“Don’t you think so too? Something’s missing. It doesn’t feel like a title track~.”
He hummed a bit and shook his head.
“Still a bit weak.”
“……”
As I listened to his words, memories surfaced.
Honestly, Stardust’s 2nd Full Album title track Flexion had achieved decent results.
The keyword here being decent results. It hadn’t been a smash hit.
Stardust had been riding a massive wave of momentum ever since their 2nd mini album.
But for the highly anticipated 2nd Full Album, they’d only managed to break even.
It hadn’t brought significant growth in first-week sales or career milestones.
At the time, maybe sensing an opportunity, fans from rival fandoms pounced with criticism:
–“Did Stardust already peak?”
└“What are you talking about? Their first-week sales increased. Can’t you see they hit 600K in first-week sales?”
└Before the album came out, they kept media-playing about it being a million-seller in pre-orders, but it's true that they flopped. LOL
└Originally, survival idol shows often peak with the debut album. It usually declines after that—but at least these guys declined slowly.
└What are you saying? They haven’t peaked yet. LOL
Cha Seongbin’s comment that it wasn’t title track material might’ve been sharper than I thought.
But that didn’t mean this was a bad song. It was a song that would do just fine.
Maybe misinterpreting my deeply thoughtful expression, Cha Seongbin quietly looked up at me and spoke.
“Ah. Actually, after the discord rumors came out, I thought about it a bit…”
“Discord rumors?”
“No, it’s just—Junseo said something like, the fans love you just the way you are.”
Cha Seongbin cleared his throat, looking a little shy.
“I really wanted to make the title track for this full album. Even if everything else is just average, composing is what I do best. If I could contribute to the team that way, that would be nice.”
I hadn’t known he was thinking like that.
He’d been constantly criticized by solo fans, so it seemed he thought writing a good song and getting it chosen as the title was the only way to secure his position.
“But… there’s no need to desperately prove myself to the people who hate me. If I’m not satisfied with a song, there’s no reason to force it onto the album. I figured, if a better song comes along, I could submit that instead. That’s all I was thinking~.”
In the previous life, his impatience led him to put an unfinished song as the title track.
Since it was a high-quality song and a self-composed track by a member, Doubles probably polished it just enough and made a comeback with it.
The results weren’t bad.
“Mm.”
“What’s with that reaction? Was the title track you heard yesterday not that good?”
Cha Seongbin tilted his head as he asked.
“Sounded good to me. Why, do you prefer this hyung’s song?”
With a mischievous tone, he grinned playfully. I answered without hesitation.
“No. This song was better.”
“…That’s harsh.”
Cha Seongbin grumbled, but he didn’t seem too hurt, like he kind of agreed himself.
Still, I felt a bit afraid.
This song definitely wouldn’t flop if we went with it.
But there was no information at all about the new song. Until it was revealed to the public, there was no way to predict the reaction.
Cha Seongbin glanced at me as I stood there silently.
He seemed puzzled by my contemplative look while facing his song.
“What’s up with you…?”
“Ah.”
A few minutes passed, and I finally made up my mind.
“Shall we go record the title track?”
I decided to trust my ears.
“We’ll go right into the next shoot!”
The MV shoot for the pre-release track <Thicket>. As proof that Doubles was putting serious effort into this 2nd Full Album, the set was impressively large.
Behind the stage stood a massive wall. The green vines covering it looked grand through the camera.
“The visuals are gonna come out great.”
“This looks amazing, huh?”
Jin Sehyun turned and admired the camera with a low murmur.
Seo Haim had been walking around the MV set with a handheld camera for a while now. It was for filming the behind-the-scenes content.
Seo Haim pointed the camera at us and asked,
“Seohan-ssi, Sehyun-ssi, how are you feeling today?”
“Feeling good. It’s warmer than expected.”
“Right?”
Since the song was being released in spring, the outfits were light, and we’d been worried it might be cold because of the outdoor shoot.
But now that we were here, warm sunlight bathed the set.
I smiled at the camera and gave my greeting.
“I think the song came out really well this time, and I feel like Dusties will love it…”
“I think so too.”
“Please look forward to Thicket a lot!!”
Just then, the camera director called out to me.
“Seohan-ssi!”
Time for my solo shot. I jogged over to the set, and two people followed right behind.
“Ah, let’s go watch Seohan’s shoot!”
“Let’s go supervise how our Youngest’s filming goes.”
My solo cut involved flying a blue paper airplane from the top of the wall.
A small paper plane folded from a ticket. For the shoot, I had to climb and sit on top of the wall.
“Be careful climbing up!”
“Yep.”
It was higher than I expected.
Cha Seongbin, who had just finished his own solo shoot, joked playfully.
“Do Seohan’s scared~.”
“Not really.”
Though I was afraid of rides, I didn’t have a fear of heights, so I grabbed the ladder without hesitation.
The support staff ran over to stabilize it, but I didn’t mind much.
“Oh, I’m good.”
Creak—
Climbing the slightly wobbly ladder, I sat down atop the wall.
Looking down, I was a bit startled. Now I knew why the hyungs had teased me.
“Whoa, it’s high…”
Felt like over two meters. I thought it’d make for a majestic shot if filmed from below, and tapped my feet in the air.
“Oh, what’s this? Do Seohan looks super cool.”
“Hey, it looks really pretty from here.”
As the hyungs praised me, the director’s booming voice echoed across the set.
“Seohan-ssi, we’re starting your solo cut.”
The red light of the camera captured the scene from multiple angles.
The paper airplane gently lifted from my hand.
Leaning my head back, I let the warm sunlight soak into me.
A fresh, crisp MV scene matching the refreshing vibe of the song.
I thought it would take a while, but we got the OK sign without any major issues.
“Not bad.”
“I think we can go with this. Let’s check the monitor.”
“Yep! Got it.”
I nodded and immediately climbed down from the wall.
“Today, we’ll shoot each member’s solo cuts, and tomorrow we’ll film the group scenes. Seohan-ssi, for now, you can rest in the shade…”
It happened the moment I casually stepped onto the ladder.
Thunk.
The ladder bolt came loose, leaving no time to find my balance.
“Hey, Do Seohan!”
Sway—
My body tipped.