Became The Leader of a Girl Group Destined To Fail - Chapter 22

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 22.

The first day after the team was formed.
Each team scattered to prepare their stage performance.
Ours was no exception.
Lee Ju-seon and Yeon Ju-hong disappeared to scour the internet for concept references.
Kim Geum and I slipped away to the Studio within the Entertainment Company to work on composition.
I glanced up at the Studio ceiling and spotted a camera installed there.
Oh PD had mentioned that the frequency of cameramen following us around would decrease.
Instead, they’d installed cameras throughout the Entertainment Company and planned to air it like an observation variety show based on that footage.
The Studio was one of those locations.
One might think the absence of a cameraman would feel liberating, but it was the opposite.
It was actually more suffocating.
Even though I couldn’t see it, every single action I took would be broadcast.
I couldn’t let my guard down.

“Geum.”
“Yes?”
“Want to go somewhere without cameras instead?”

Of course, that didn’t mean they’d installed cameras in every Practice Room and Studio.
There were far more trainees not participating in Make a New Color. They needed spaces to practice too.

“Are you… planning to hit me or something?”
“…Why would I…”
“If that’s not it, let’s move. I’m fine with it too.”

And so we relocated to a Practice Room without cameras.

“Actually, I like it better here. I usually come here to write songs.”
“Have you made a lot of songs beforehand?”
“Yes.”

Kim Geum opened her laptop and showed it to me.

“About this much.”

…Did you perhaps just eat and make songs?
Since I was also a singer-songwriter, I’d created a lot of music.
Though not every song could make it out into the world.
In the ten years since my debut, I’d probably created over 500 songs…
Yet she hadn’t even debuted and already seemed to have hundreds.

“Not all of them are complete compositions. Most are just top lines, really.”
“That’s still impressive.”

I recalled the Kim Geum I’d seen in my past life.
Kim Geum had succeeded as an artist, but also as a composer.
Whenever she gave songs to other singers, they became hits, so she always ranked high in royalty income.
True genius showed its colors from the very beginning.
I found myself marveling anew.

“Originally, I wanted to use one of the songs I’d already made. That’s why I asked Oh PD about it.”
“He said no, didn’t he?”
“Yes. He said absolutely not. That it wouldn’t be fair.”

It was the answer I’d expected.
Fairness aside, using something pre-made like that would make the broadcast less entertaining anyway.

“I have to create something new from scratch. Besides, none of what I’ve made so far perfectly matches our concept.”
“Hmm…”

I nodded.

“Can I ask you something?”
“Are you asking why you picked me?”
“Yeah.”

It’s good to read intentions accurately.
I need to know what someone wants from me so I can give it to them.

“To be honest… I was curious.”

Kim Geum straightened her posture and looked directly at me.
Right, it makes sense that she’d be curious.
A trainee who showed absolutely no talent for composition suddenly brought an original song to her self-introduction video.
For Kim Geum, who had such a keen interest in composition, the curiosity was justified.
A rival had appeared, after all.

“So here’s the thing—I have a favor to ask.”

What kind of favor could it be?
I tensed up.
Did she want to probe around with a rival right beside her?
Did she want to see my work?
Was she trying to intimidate me?

“Please save me!”

Huh?

“Please! Debut with me! I can’t make a full team album by myself!”

What?

“The Entertainment Company keeps telling me they only trust me and want me to produce all twelve tracks for the full album myself. Everyone around me expects Colors’ composition member to naturally create everything. How am I supposed to make all of that alone?”
“That’s… that’s true.”
“Senior artists didn’t create everything from scratch either. But nobody wants to help me because expectations are so high! And the other trainees don’t even care about composition or songwriting!”

Kim Geum finally unleashed all the frustration she’d been bottling up.

“Am I some kind of song-producing machine? I’m just an eighteen-year-old high school student who didn’t want to take the college entrance exam!”
“You’re right, you’re right….”
“I was actually thinking about running away, just escaping, when you suddenly appeared!”

Wait… wait…?

“The moment I heard your original composition, I thought to myself.”

Thought what?

“That’s it.”

What on earth is happening to me?

“I’m not alone anymore.”

Kim Geum’s eyes gleamed with the intensity of a tiger’s gaze.
She seized both my hands firmly.

“Even if I don’t debut, you must debut. Do you understand?”
“Huh?”
“I said, do you understand?”
“Oh, yes, I understand….”

Why was my spirit deflating like this?
Only then did Kim Geum seem satisfied with my response, nodding before pointing at the monitor.

“Then let’s work together and find the perfect song.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I’ll trust only you and follow your lead.”

Weren’t you supposed to be the composition position?
Wasn’t I supposed to be the lyricist position?
I was about to protest, but when I saw Kim Geum’s face—worn down from all she’d already endured at Colors—I closed my mouth.
Memories of my own debut days surfaced, and my heart ached with sympathy.
I had been the breadwinner of a small entertainment company.
From the agency’s perspective of launching their first idol, every single won was precious and irreplaceable.
Representative Seo, unable to afford expensive songs, would spend nights in tears clinging to me desperately.

‘Nok-ha, I’m sorry I don’t have the ability… I’m sorry I can’t even afford to buy a single song….’

As a result, my composition skills had been forcibly honed at an accelerated pace.
…Even now, thinking back on those days makes the back of my head throb.
Having gone through such times, I understood Kim Geum’s heart completely.
You were becoming the breadwinner of this group too.

“Geum.”
“Yes.”

Fine then.
Since things have come to this.

“I know what you’re feeling. Let’s see this through together.”
“!”
“I’ll do everything I can.”

Let’s carry this with everything we’ve got.

“Unnie.”
“Hmm?”
“My soul belongs to you now.”

That’s… not necessary.

***

And so I formed an alliance—or rather, something like one—with Kim Geum.
Deep down, I’d been hoping to rely somewhat on her composing abilities, if I’m being honest.
But that was naive thinking.
I should have squeezed out another song instead of leaning on a rookie.
After deliberating, I recalled one of the songs I’d composed long ago.
A track I’d never released in my past life—one I’d earmarked as a sub-title song for the future.
The title track I’d prepared in my previous life felt too precious to waste on a competition mission.
After debut, I’d need to keep producing songs.
A song good enough to be a title track deserved to be preserved.
Even the sub-title song felt like a slight waste, but…
Let’s use it.
In this world, I don’t exist anyway, so what does it matter?
Might as well squeeze out everything and make my mark.
If I played the complete song from the start, she’d definitely suspect it was something I’d made beforehand.
So I played just a few lines of the chorus first.

“!”

Kim Geum listened intently to my melody, her eyes blazing with fervor.

“Just a moment, unnie.”

Kim Geum quickly worked on her laptop, crafting something, then played it back for me.

“What if we try structuring the progression like this?”
“!”

This time, I was the one caught off guard.
The melody that emerged was far more refined and exhilarating than my original composition’s progression.
This… is actually good. Really good.

“That sounds great, doesn’t it?”
“Right? It works, doesn’t it?”

Kim Geum asked me with a deeply satisfied expression.
Though she’d asked for my help, she was fundamentally a genius in her own right.
She’d never intended to entrust everything to me alone.
Two minds are always more reassuring than one.
Whether it helps or not, having a collaborator makes you feel secure.

“Yeah. It’s really good. Then let’s work on the intro section together too.”
“No, unnie.”
“Hm?”

Kim Geum’s expression turned resolute.
She looked like she was heading into battle.

“From here on, I’ll handle it. Once we debut, we’ll create together… but this is my position right now. I think I need to do this myself.”
“…You sure about that?”
“Yes. Just leave it to me.”

She was truly reliable.
Kim Geum flashed me her characteristic bright smile and gave me a thumbs up.
Then, energetically donning her headset, she began arranging beats and elements.
Her concentration was remarkable.
I could genuinely feel her passion for composition.
Colors… what on earth did you do to her?
To someone who loves composing this much…
Watching Kim Geum work so diligently, multiple thoughts swirled within me.
The determination not to fall behind, and the desire to match her passion with equal fervor.
I reviewed the song as Kim Geum created it, refining and adjusting the lyrics to complement her composition.
Together, we collaborated to bring the song to life.
Time flew by as we worked.

“Geum. It’s already 3 a.m. Let’s go back and get some sleep.”
“No, I can’t. Just one more hour….”
“I understand how you feel, but the brain doesn’t work better when you push it to exhaustion. You’re more efficient when you’re well-rested. We’ll continue tomorrow.”
“But just… just a little longer….”
“Sleep.”
“Yes.”

Kim Geum reluctantly closed her laptop, setting aside her disappointment.

“Leave the laptop behind.”
“…Fine.”

Did she think I wouldn’t understand what she was feeling?
I’ve been through all of this myself.

***

After dropping Kim Geum off, I returned to my Gosiwon.
It had been a long time since I focused so intensely on songwriting.
At first, I’d planned to stick with the original composition I’d created, but watching Kim Geum develop it further sparked something competitive in me.
A strange pride—I couldn’t lose to a junior so much younger than me.
…The feeling was peculiar, yet oddly pleasant.
Living with friends who hadn’t even debuted yet made me feel like I was returning to my roots.
It wasn’t bad at all.
I showered quickly and picked up my phone.
It had been nearly twelve hours.
I’d been so caught up today that I hadn’t checked it once.
But something felt off.

“…Twelve missed calls and thirty-nine messages?”

What on earth happened?
I frantically checked the call log first.

-Yeon Ju-hong (12)

All twelve missed calls were from Yeon Ju-hong.
Did something happen while I was out with Lee Ju-seon?
Anxiously, I opened the text messages.

Yeon Ju-hong

Oh no, noona!

Unnie, something terrible happened

Could you and Kim Geum unnie come here?

Lee Ju-seon unnie left…

Lee Ju-seon unnie got really angry and left during filming… What do we do??

Lee Ju-seon unnie must have lost it, I mean she won’t listen to reason

The other messages weren’t much different from this.
Skimming through them, I could sense what was happening.
It seemed Lee Ju-seon and I had clashed pretty hard during the concept discussion.
The other messages were serious, but this one was the worst.

Yeon Ju-hong

Ju-seon unnie, our team is leaving.

This was bad.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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