The Reincarnated Idol Hard Carries an Indie Band - Chapter 103

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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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The Former Idol’s Indie Band Hard Carry
Chapter 103
Moon Ga Young’s voice cut sharp as a blade.
Ordinarily she was docile and kind, but once the unexpected overseas schedule landed on her shoulders, irritation was inevitable.
And now, unprompted inquiries from various music companies about Oktatop’s agency and future direction came flooding in.
I found myself thinking of the countless agency staffers who had approached me rudely back when I was active in the United States.
Compared to them, Moon Ga Young’s reaction was almost genteel.
“I’m really, truly sorry. I had no idea something like this would happen to you.”
-No, it’s fine. You guys didn’t do it on purpose, and I was being oversensitive anyway.
I apologized sincerely.
We hadn’t done anything wrong, but regardless, this situation had arisen because of us.
“Going forward, if you get any calls like that, just pass them to Jo Hyun Seop. I’ll send you his number.”
-That doesn’t solve the fundamental problem, though.
I couldn’t help it.
I couldn’t very well establish a company and send a manager to the United States on short notice.
Moon Ga Young’s anger had nearly subsided, but tomorrow would bring broadcasters and journalists asking about our progress again.
Her mood would reset.
“And—I haven’t forgotten the debt I owe you.”
-What are you talking about all of a sudden?
“You said you wanted to make music. You’re going to do that for sure later, right?”
A moment of silence passed, then a soft laugh came through the line.
“You’ve helped us so much this whole time. I’m going to take responsibility for that, so just hang in there with us.”
-Come on, it’s nothing between friends—
See that?
The moment music came up, her attitude softened in an instant.
-I’ll take photos of all the business cards I’ve received so far and send them to you, so at least accept those.
“Oh, thank you. Really.”
-And get into a company or something. Don’t cause trouble for anyone else!
“Got it, you brat.”
After telling Moon Ga Young to hang in there, I ended the call.
Starting a company was grand talk we didn’t need yet.
If anyone wanted to reach Oktatop, they went through Jo Hyun Seop.
The method that worked in Korea was no exception overseas.
For now, that single point of contact was enough.
* * *
Moon Ga Young sent photographs of the business cards she’d collected so far.
Twenty-three cards in total.
The number was higher than I’d anticipated.
And Moon Ga Young’s stress must have been even worse than I’d imagined.
A manager would certainly have accepted the cards, but frustration was still warranted.
Among those twenty-three requests, more than a few had likely come from people who approached her without respect.
Our country maintains at least some decorum, but from my experience, America has no shortage of people who don’t.
Regardless, I began reviewing and organizing the cards.
Most of the broadcasts were small to medium-sized operations.
There were no major networks.
I filtered out the smaller broadcasters and selected only those that seriously covered music.
Four cards remained.
I planned to contact these four directly and accept an offer from whichever one gave us the best terms.
So I sat down at my computer and began composing emails.
* * *
When people speak of rock’s homeland, England comes to mind—but truthfully, the genre was born in America.
England amplified it, but America created it.
Even granting that, I’d wanted to handle our first overseas engagement in England, where the authentic image is stronger than in America.
But since the offer came from America, we had to go there.
And frankly, moving in America rather than England would be more beneficial for us right now.
In any case, America was calling out to us.
“So we’re going to America?”
“Yeah. We have to.”
Heo Jun Sung asked with a vacant expression.
The guy had such a weak grip on reality he looked ready to drool.
“Close your mouth, you idiot. You look stupid.”
“He’s always stupid.”
Kim Ji Hu and Heo Jun Sung started bickering, and I shifted my focus to Lee Do Young.
“You’re serious, right Seo Ha? No scammers latching onto us or anything?”
“Yeah, it came through Ga Young. You can relax.”
I showed them the twenty-three business card photos I’d received from Moon Ga Young.
“Whoa! Are we going to all of these? Does that mean we have to live in America?”
Heo Jun Sung asked with unbridled excitement.
“No, we’re only going to one place.”
“Huh? Why? We hit number one on the overseas chart—isn’t this the perfect time to make the rounds?”
Heo Jun Sung was buzzing with enthusiasm, and his point had merit.
But there was a flaw in his reasoning.
“We can’t. Getting properly established in America costs serious money.”
Just thinking about living expenses, we couldn’t afford it.
Even with a company backing us, pushing forward recklessly would mean collapsing and coming home—that’s how American expansion typically goes.
“The moment we start struggling just to survive over there, the goal stops being music and becomes mere existence. Then we’re no longer Oktatop.”
“True enough. But doesn’t it feel like a waste going to just one place?”
“Yeah, I think we’d be better off hitting a few more.”
Their point wasn’t wrong.
If we were going anyway, hitting a few more places would be better.
But only one place had offered acceptable terms.
“I sent emails to a few places yesterday.”
“And?”
“Everywhere else, we’d have to cover our own costs. This place alone is offering flights and lodging.”
The Greenroom.
A broadcast format that plays music and does talk segments.
They didn’t stand on much ceremony, and it was perfect for getting our faces known without pressure.
The Greenroom was known in the industry for treating artists generously.
And since they maintained a sponsorship relationship with Sounda, they’d likely be even more favorable toward us.
Of course, I didn’t mention any of this to the guys.
“The other broadcasts have gaps between their shoot dates. We can’t survive financially until then on our own dime.”
Heo Jun Sung and Kang Min looked genuinely disappointed.
“America is just about adding a line to our resume.”
“Quite the line, though.”
Lee Do Young smiled as he replied.
‘Number one on the overseas chart, appeared on an American broadcast.’
To return to Korea carrying just that single line.
That was the sum total of this venture.
What mattered was hitting hard and fast, then coming back with the image of a band recognized in the authentic market.
* * *
Full-scale expansion is one thing, but timing exists for a reason.
Our American debut would come after we’d lifted the Korean indie scene higher than it is now.
Days later, Jo Hyun Seop looked into The Greenroom personally and reported back.
“It’s a pretty solid program. A lot of indie musicians who’ve appeared there have gone on to make it big.”
With the industry heavy’s seal of approval, Jo Hyun Seop said he’d accompany us himself.
The Greenroom provided flights and accommodation for our members and staff.
The schedule was three nights, five days.
That level of provision was generous.
The reason the broadcaster was offering this much was probably because Sounda wanted to showcase their number one chart artist.
The booking agency even handled the performance visas, so there wasn’t much for us to worry about.
And so our first overseas engagement was set.
Schedule management went smoothly since the broadcast was cooperative.
But the problem erupted from elsewhere.
“Wait, we have to do talk segments there too, right?”
Heo Jun Sung’s face went pale.
“I can’t speak a word of English.”
“Hello. I am guitar.”
“……That means you’re a guitar.”
“But I am a guitar player, right?”
“No, you moron. You say ‘guitarist.'”
“Oh.”
I knew Lee Do Young’s English was decent enough.
But that was just standardized test English—his conversational ability was another question.
Kim Ji Hu had no worries.
The problem was those two fools.
“Lee Do Young needs an introduction like this.”
-I am a baseline.
Heo Jun Sung wrote something nonsensical on paper, and Kang Min nodded along.
“It’s ‘bass line,’ you idiot. What did you write? Vaseline?”
“Oh. Ah. Right. I got confused for a second.”
Kim Ji Hu shook his head at those two.
“Just speak Korean, you two. We’ll interpret.”
“We?”
My words drew everyone’s attention to me.
“You’re not the third biggest idiot in this band?”
“Yeah, Seo Ha. As the leader, don’t feel like you have to show off. Ji Hu and I will figure it out.”
“No, I’m fine with English, actually.”
“No way, Seo Ha. Don’t talk nonsense.”
Looking at him, I caught glimpses of Lee Do Young’s petty mischievous side from time to time.
“Wait, didn’t he write all those emails in English? Seriously?”
“Must’ve used a translator.”
“Pretty good technology these days.”
Honestly, I could have handled the talk segment and interpreted everything solo.
But I didn’t want to prove that right now.
I wanted the guys to push themselves to say at least one sentence in their own voices.
In my past life—my days as a solo idol walking global stages.
English was something I’d had to learn whether I wanted to or not.
What I’d learned back then in loneliness had become a weapon to protect my friends in this life.
After the banter died down, I watched them sitting and studying English with quiet satisfaction.
Kang Min and Heo Jun Sung starting from basics.
Lee Do Young focusing on conversation.
Kim Ji Hu just lounging around, fidgeting with his phone.
His composure looked quite cool.
“I want to eat hamburger.”
“Hey, hey! Sugoi! Honmono no burger!”
“Hehe… I’ll eat plenty when we get there.”
“Jun Sung, if you keep that up you’ll really turn into a pig. Did you forget how hard I worked to get you in shape?”
“But hamburgers are health food, right? They don’t make you gain weight.”
……
“Eat as much as you want, then.”
Kim Ji Hu and Heo Jun Sung started round two.
With these loud guys around, even if things got chaotic, everything felt like it would work out.
Anywhere. Anytime.
And so another commotion had passed.
Ring.
Kim Ji Hu’s phone buzzed, and he checked something.
Without thinking, I glanced at his expression—and it froze, just for an instant.
Then our eyes met.
He quickly looked away.
The others didn’t notice.
They were too caught up in English lessons and hamburger talk.
But I saw it.
In that brief moment, I saw the shadow that crossed his face.
In my past life, Kim Ji Hu ultimately quit music.
That fact caught somewhere in my chest.
In the excitement of preparations for departure,
Only one person bore a different weight, wearing the mask of a smile.

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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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