The atmosphere in the Cheongdam-dong office was one of strict professionalism. A man with casual, disheveled hair and dark-framed glasses — Shinsadong Tiger, one of the sharpest minds in Korean music production — was listening to Sol-woo’s song with complete focus.
The man beside him, whose prominent build and imposing frame made him look more like a gym trainer or a bodyguard than an executive, crossed his arms and broke the silence:
"How many times are you going to listen to it? It’s clear the kid has talent. My only concern is his mixed background."
He then turned a hard look toward Director Yoon and spoke without filter:
"You know exactly how netizens operate in this country. That kid can have all the presence, the face, and the height in the world — but I’m worried the criticism will tear him apart before he even debuts. And listen to his music. How melancholic it sounds. It’s obvious this kid has been carrying something heavy. Does he have the mental strength to handle the pressure of this industry? I don’t want to waste my time on someone who falls apart at the first scandal."
Shinsadong Tiger listened to every word. Then he glanced sideways over the rim of his glasses with a dry, slightly theatrical expression and let out a short laugh:
"Talent? Calling this just ’talent’ is an understatement. This junior is destined to shake up the industry in South Korea. While the major agencies keep churning out the same commercial, generic music to sell television ads, this kid is going to shatter every stigma in one shot. He’s the best possible signing for MNO — a golden investment as the company’s first artist, both for the domestic and the international market."
The producer turned to PD-nim Yoon and added with conviction:
"Wasn’t this your great dream, Yoon? Finding an artist capable of blowing the doors open to the West? Well, you’re looking at your best card. The way this kid channels his emotions through music is, quite simply, a work of art."
Director Yoon, hearing this torrent of praise from the mouth of a proven hitmaker, looked at him in genuine surprise:
"He’s that good?"
Shinsadong Tiger adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, almost offended by the question:
"Not even in the West has a genius of this level emerged at nineteen. With this one song alone, he has everything. Absolutely everything." He touched his cheek thoughtfully and continued: "Of course, there are certain technical details to polish — the voice, the production — but this is not ordinary talent. I back his signing one hundred percent, and a long-term investment at that. I’ll put my name on it right now: in five to seven years, this junior will shine as a world-class celebrity."
Kang Tae-shik, the solidly built manager beside him, let out a skeptical grunt at the producer’s unbridled enthusiasm. He preferred to stay grounded in concrete facts:
"I won’t deny his musical abilities. But what about his character? What’s he like in person?"
Director Yoon smiled slightly and answered with complete calm:
"In temperament and maturity, he’s a thousand times better than you — imagine that. He’s focused, articulate, and carries himself with an enviable composure. In fact, though he probably doesn’t know it himself, his natural expressiveness would make him extraordinary as an actor too."
Shinsadong Tiger gave the desk a light, enthusiastic tap:
"Then what the hell are we waiting for? It’s time to be decisive. This is our golden opportunity to establish the agency from day one."
PD-nim Yoon nodded with gravity:
"Let’s draft a contract that’s fair — balanced for the company and for him. I have a feeling this young man is not naive in the slightest. We can’t start this relationship by giving him reasons to distrust us."
Tae-shik gave a firm nod:
"Count me in on that. You know I don’t lend myself to predatory contracts or junk clauses — I don’t waste my time with that kind of thing."
By midday, the front desk assistant received direct instructions from the director to schedule the appointment for the young man from the day before. She dialed without delay:
"Good afternoon, calling from MNO Entertainment. Your meeting with the director has been scheduled for four o’clock this afternoon. Could you please confirm your attendance?"
Sol-woo, who had been on standby by his phone all morning, answered immediately, his voice steady:
"Yes, of course. I’ll be there at four. Thank you very much."
When he hung up, the tension that had been building in the Mangwon-dong apartment dissolved at once. It was past eleven in the morning, and the silence from the agency had started to worry the family — Eun-ji and Uncle Min-ho had begun to fear the agency had changed its mind.
Seeing the smile on her son’s face, Eun-ji jumped to her feet:
"I’m calling my lawyer friend right now so he can get ready! We can’t leave any detail to chance."
Min-ho nodded with visible satisfaction. The Kang family, united and eager, waited with excitement for the start of an afternoon that would change Sol-woo’s path for good.
The hours leading up to the meeting passed in a mix of nerves and anticipation. The family prepared carefully for what promised to be a turning point. Eun-ji, after much deliberation, decided to come along — she couldn’t stay home waiting for news when it was her son’s future on the line.
So four people got into the car with their hearts running at full speed. Among them was lawyer Park Seung-won, the son of an old family friend, who took the responsibility with complete professional seriousness.
Lawyer Park glanced sideways at Sol-woo from the back seat. He remembered him as a restless child — but sitting before him now was a young man fully formed, with an exceptionally striking mixed-background appearance and a natural elegance in the way he carried himself. If my daughter ever laid eyes on this kid, she’d fall for him instantly. I’ll definitely need to keep her away from him, he thought privately, with a slight paternal jolt.
Clearing his throat, the lawyer broke the silence in the car:
"I don’t handle entertainment cases very often, but I have extensive experience in commercial and contract law, so there’s nothing to worry about." He paused, meeting Sol-woo’s eyes with a measured tone. "Sol-woo-ssi, under no circumstances are you to sign or agree to anything on your own. Let me review every clause first. In fact, limit yourself to answering only when they ask you personal questions — about your studies, your parents, things like that. If legal, financial, or rights-related matters come up, leave everything to me. We won’t allow anything predatory or one-sided. Your talent is your work. This is a business, and you must get the benefit you’re fairly entitled to."
Min-ho, driving with focus, gave a satisfied nod in the rearview mirror. The lawyer was saying exactly what the family needed to hear. Eun-ji, for her part, stayed quiet — visibly more nervous than her own son, her hands pressed together in her lap.
Just before four o’clock, the car stopped in front of the MNO Entertainment building. When they crossed into the lobby, the space looked noticeably cleaner than the day before — the moving boxes and initial disorder had almost completely disappeared.
Near the reception area, a man of imposing height and prominent build was standing waiting. Seeing him, Uncle Min-ho immediately assumed he must be some form of private security or a company bodyguard, and approached him with complete seriousness:
"Good afternoon... Are you some kind of bodyguard for the company?"
Director Yoon, who had just stepped out of his office after being alerted by the assistant that the car had arrived, caught the question in full. He felt an overwhelming urge to burst out laughing — but through a superhuman effort of self-control, he kept his composure.
Kang Tae-shik, the solidly built manager, froze for a moment. He wasn’t sure whether to feel offended or simply resigned — aware that his physical appearance always made that first impression. He composed himself as best he could and responded with rigid courtesy:
"No, no... I’m the agency’s head manager."
As he finished speaking, Tae-shik caught Director Yoon behind the visitors pressing a hand over his mouth to hold back laughter — and could only shoot him a sideways look of mild indignation.
Min-ho, feeling his face burn with embarrassment at the realization of his mistake, bowed immediately:
"Ah, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—"
"Please, don’t worry at all — it’s very understandable," Director Yoon cut in with a warm smile, stepping forward to smooth over the moment and guide the group toward the main area.
Once inside the inner lobby, Eun-ji wanted to say something, but thought better of it. She wanted Sol-woo to handle the situation with maturity. Watching her son standing straight beside lawyer Park — composed, dignified, calm — she smiled quietly to herself with pride.
Director Yoon addressed the group in a courteous tone:
"Only the lawyer and our future artist will come through to the meeting room. Please don’t take it personally — it’s standard procedure for reviewing the draft."
Eun-ji responded immediately, without hesitation:
"Of course, Director. That’s perfectly normal. We’ll wait out here."
She and her brother settled onto a sofa in the waiting area, while the agency’s assistant came over to offer them something to drink.
Before crossing into the office alongside the lawyer and the director, Sol-woo glanced back. His mother was watching him — and with a wide, radiant smile, she gave him a thumbs up.
Filled with a quiet, grounding warmth, his emotions steady, Sol-woo took a deep breath and walked through the door with his head high, ready to face his future.