Liang Yun’s earth-shattering ‘demonstration’ completely overturned CRAVITY’s nine members’ perception of him.
If, before, their impression of Producer L.Y. was still split between ‘talented but introverted senior’ and ‘that cute guy online who blushed when scared by a big dog,’ then from that day on, this impression unified into an incredibly clear, even slightly awe-inspiring image: a music tyrant.
A true artist who pursues perfection in music and tolerates no flaws.
This awe directly translated into ultra-high efficiency in their work.
During the subsequent recording process, CRAVITY’s members seemed to have their meridians unblocked, each bursting with unprecedented potential as if injected with stimulants.
Main vocalist Woo Bin’s high notes became more penetrating and tearing, and the rappers’ flow became more aggressive and rhythmic.
Liang Yun’s work also became much smoother as a result.
He no longer needed to spend a lot of time explaining and guiding; more often, he just needed to sit behind the mixing console like a calm commander, making minor adjustments to details.
“Serim, the tail end of this line, make it a bit shorter and sharper, like a bullet shooting out, don’t drag it.”
“Minhee, for your harmony part, make your breath more stable, imagine you’re a wall, providing the strongest support for the main vocalist.”
He still didn’t say much, but every word hit the mark.
The boys’ response to his instructions evolved from initial tension and fear to heartfelt trust.
They knew this Producer truly understood them and understood music.
Half a month later, the recording of “Flame” was successfully completed a full week ahead of schedule.
When the last line was recorded and Liang Yun said “OK, good job” into the intercom, a cheer of relief erupted in the recording studio.
The nine boys rushed out of the recording booth and, ignoring Liang Yun’s ‘don’t come near me’ expression of resistance, forcibly surrounded him and then, like football players celebrating a touchdown, tossed him into the air.
“Producer-nim! Kamsahamnida!”
“Brother! You’re so cool!”
Tossed into the air, Liang Yun felt like a fish thrown onto land, his limbs stiff, his mind blank.
He had never experienced such… enthusiastic physical contact in his life.
He could even smell the boys’ scent, a mix of sweat and youthful hormones.
Just as he felt he was about to perish on the spot from social energy depletion, CRAVITY’s leader, Serim, extended an invitation in an irrefutable tone.
“Producer-nim! To celebrate the successful completion of the recording, we’re treating tonight! Let’s go out for dinner!”
The words “dinner” acted like a spell, instantly freezing Liang Yun.
Eating with nine… energetic, passionate young men?
Just imagining the scene made him feel suffocated.
He was about to use a lame excuse like “I still have work” to refuse, but Serim spoke first: “Please don’t refuse! This is a small token of our appreciation from all the members! We saw how many nights you stayed up for our album. You absolutely must honor us with your presence at this meal!”
The other members also chimed in, each looking at him with bright, expectant puppy dog eyes.
Liang Yun looked at these nine sincere pairs of eyes, and the words of refusal simply wouldn’t come out.
So, that night, a very peculiar scene unfolded at a barbecue restaurant in Seoul’s Mapo District.
At a long table, nine young men ate with gusto, noisy and boisterous, as if they were going to tear the roof off.
And in the farthest corner of the long table sat a figure that didn’t fit in.
Liang Yun sat silently there, his grill piled high with the tenderest beef, enthusiastically grilled for him by the younger members.
He kept his head down, eating small bites at an almost mechanical pace, trying to minimize his presence.
He felt like a socially anxious employee forcibly dragged to a company team-building event; the surrounding commotion had nothing to do with him, and he just wanted it to end quickly so he could go home and play games.
“Producer-nim!
I’ll toast you!” Rapper Allen approached, holding a glass of cola, his face full of admiration, “Your rap demonstration that day was truly amazing!
I pondered it for days before I found even a little bit of the feeling.
How did you think of handling it that way?”
The beginning of a topic meant the beginning of a social interaction.
Liang Yun braced himself and chatted with him for a few minutes about flow and rhythm.
Immediately after, main vocalist Woo Bin also came over with his cup, asking about vocalization techniques. New chapters come out on g.com first.
Then came the other members, one by one, taking turns, treating him as a life mentor, discussing everything from music to the future, from the hardships before debut to funny stage anecdotes.
Liang Yun felt as if he had attended a three-hour fan meeting, except he was the idol being questioned.
By the time the dinner ended and he emerged from the barbecue restaurant, he felt like his soul had been drained.
CRAVITY’s van was already waiting at the entrance.
The boys reluctantly said goodbye to him, each eager to add him on KakaoTalk, saying they would continue to seek his guidance if they had questions in the future.
Amidst calls of “Brother, goodbye!” and “Producer-nim, you worked hard!”, Liang Yun fled into his own van as if escaping.
“Home, home…” he said weakly to Manager Kim Min-ho.
Kim Min-ho looked at him, appearing as if his essence had been sucked dry, and suppressed a smile as he started the car.
“Brother, your popularity among the company’s juniors is quite high now.”
Liang Yun buried his face in his hands and let out a painful groan.
It was almost midnight when he returned to his apartment building.
Liang Yun dragged his weary body into the elevator.
Just as the elevator doors were about to close, a fair, slender hand suddenly reached in, blocking the closing doors.
The elevator doors reopened.
A familiar figure stepped inside.
Ahn Yujin wore an oversized light gray hooded sweatshirt, paired with black athletic joggers, and white sneakers.
She wore a black baseball cap pulled low and a face mask, completely bundled up.
But the vibrant youthful aura that emanated from her, and those large, still-sparkling eyes beneath the brim of her cap, allowed Liang Yun to recognize her instantly.
She seemed to have just finished exercising; a faint sheen of sweat glistened on her fair forehead, and her cheeks were a healthy pink from exertion.
A faint, refreshing scent of sweat mixed with a pleasant shampoo fragrance wafted into Liang Yun’s nose.
“Yo, our great Producer-nim, just back from the celebration party, huh?” Ahn Yujin said with a teasing tone as soon as she entered, her eyes curving into two beautiful crescents.
Liang Yun was stunned: “You… how did you know?”
“It’s all over our company group chat,” Ahn Yujinpouted, a hint of sourness in her voice that she herself didn’t notice, “Those CRAVITY boys’ photos of throwing you into the air are almost the company’s internal ‘best photo of the year.’ Everyone’s saying that our Producer L.Y. not only makes good music but is also especially gentle and kind to his juniors.”
As she spoke, she scrutinized Liang Yun from head to toe, her gaze like someone examining their own possession to see if it had been dirtied by others.
Liang Yun felt uncomfortable under her gaze; he could sense that Ahn Yujin’s mood today seemed a bit… off.
“I… I just…”
“Just what? Just happy being surrounded by nine grown men?” Ahn Yujin pressed, the sourness in her voice growing stronger.
Why was this woman jealous of men?
Liang Yun felt bewildered.
With a “ding,” the elevator reached Liang Yun’s floor.
He scurried out as if escaping.
“Well… I’m going back now.”
“Wait.” Ahn Yujin followed him out and grabbed his wrist.
Her hand was cool but soft, yet surprisingly strong.
Liang Yun felt an electric current shoot through his wrist where she held him, instantly making it hot.
“Wh-what?” he stammered.
Ahn Yujin didn’t answer; she just pulled him to his apartment door.
Then, she released his hand and held up a convenience store bag in her other hand, shaking it slightly.
Inside the bag were two cans of non-alcoholic beverages and a bag of shredded squid.
“Have a late-night snack with me.” Her tone wasn’t a request but a command.
Liang Yun was completely bewildered.
What was this situation?
Midnight, a man and a woman alone, having a late-night snack?
If D Dispatch caught this, he could pack his bags and go back to his home country tomorrow.
“N-no, right? Why are you coming to my apartment to have a late-night snack with me??? This is too…”
“What’s wrong with it?” Ahn Yujin cut him off.
She took off her mask, revealing her delicate yet slightly stubborn face, “I’m… not in a good mood today. As my exclusive ‘big dog,’ is there a problem with you having something to eat with me?”
There she went again.
That kind of unreasonable logic that made it impossible to refute.
Liang Yun looked at her bright, slightly moist eyes.
In them, there was none of her usual liveliness and cunning, but instead a rare, fragile weariness.
The words of refusal once again caught in his throat.
“Ha…”
Finally, he could only sigh resignedly and open his apartment door.
He had a premonition that tonight would be a sleepless night.
Inside the apartment, Fang Zi was already asleep.
The living room was dark, with only the city neon of Seoul filtering in from outside the window, casting dappled light on the floor.
Liang Yun turned on a small floor lamp, and the dim, warm light instantly made the small space feel a bit ambiguous and cozy.
The two sat cross-legged on the rug in front of the sofa.
Ahn Yujin skillfully opened a can of non-alcoholic beverage and handed it to him, then opened one for herself and took a big gulp, tilting her head back.
“Ha—refreshing!” She exhaled a warm breath, and the tense expression on her face, caused by her melancholy, seemed to ease a little.
Liang Yun watched her bold manner, somewhat astonished.
Was this really the dazzling top girl group member on stage?
She looked more like an office worker drinking with his buddies to drown his sorrows after work.
She wasn’t even an adult yet, but she was acting like an old office worker.
“You… what’s wrong? Why are you in a bad mood?” He hesitated for a moment but still asked.
Ahn Yujin tore open the bag of shredded squid, chewed a mouthful vigorously, then pushed the bag towards him.
“IZ*ONE…” she whispered, a hint of imperceptible hoarseness in her voice, “is coming to an end.”
Liang Yun’s heart sank sharply.
He knew that IZ*ONE was a temporary group formed through an audition program, and from the day it was established, it was destined to disband.
It was only when this day was truly approaching that he genuinely felt the reluctance of parting and the confusion about the future in Ahn Yujin’s tone.
“We’ve been together for over two years,” Ahn Yujinlooked at the can in her hand, her eyes unfocused, “Practicing together, debuting together, winning first place together, holding concerts together… Twelve people, just like family. I really… can’t imagine one day when everyone will separate, return to their respective companies, and go down completely different paths.”
Her voice grew softer and softer, and her eyes gradually reddened.
Liang Yun watched her sadness, and his heart also felt heavy.
He wanted to comfort her but didn’t know what to say.
Empty words like “all good things must come to an end” or “the future will be better” seemed so pale and powerless at a time like this.
He could only silently pick up his drink and take a big gulp.
“You say,” Ahn Yujin suddenly turned to him, her wet eyes full of uncertainty, “When we return to Starship Entertainment, will Wonyoung and I really do well? Without the IZ*ONE halo, will everyone… still like us?”
This was the first time she had shown such a vulnerable and insecure side to him.
Liang Yun looked at her, and his heart felt as if something had gently squeezed it, a little painful.
He put down the can, his expression more serious than ever.
“Yes, you will.” He looked into her eyes and said in an undeniable, firm tone, “You definitely will.”
He reached out, wanting to pat her head gently, just as she had done to him last time, to offer her some comfort.
But his hand stopped halfway.
He saw, behind Ahn Yujin, a furry head peeking out from the slightly ajar gap in his bedroom door.
His roommate, Fang Zi, groggily and bewilderedly, was staring at the bizarre scene of them drinking late at night in the living room.
Their eyes met.
The air instantly froze.