Not just individual talent, music, albums, and operations, but SM's heavy promotion and resources.
The more attention Girls' Generation got, the better their results, the more envy they drew.
Compared to peers, they were the favored daughter; other groups, stray kids.
Even the top-earning boy band wasn't spared.
No chance to strike? Fine. But the girls' instant fame inflated their egos.
No honorifics for seniors? Wow~
A free knife handed over. Not taking it would be rude.
To wear the crown, bear its weight.
Clearly, Girls' Generation hadn't grasped that yet.
"President, their rise is beyond expectations. Should we prep a girl group?"
No boy group—Yoon Hye-na knew his taste.
Look at the company: not a single male artist.
Even trainees? No guys in sight.
As they spoke, the TV cut to Girls' Generation's stage.
Into the New World. Great song!
"Talk to Chief Kim, bring me a plan."
"Got it."
A girl group now? Training from scratch was too slow. Poach from big companies' talent pools.
The best, most capable? Out of reach.
But those cut by big firms weren't all flops.
Some just needed time or a bit more luck.
Plenty had real skill.
"Rep Yoon, we need our own selection system, urgently. Everyone's effort, two years—I want our mark in South Korea, Japan, China, Thailand."
"SM's approach with Girls' Generation? Have a team analyze and learn. Japan's ahead here—prioritize it."
"Ne~ But SM's in trouble now."
After the performance, the studio talk returned to the "disrespecting seniors" issue.
Stand too tall, the wind breaks you.
SM's solo reign was crumbling.
A girl group? What songs should he "create"?
Alone in his office, Lee Jin-woo pondered his "creations."
Yoon Hye-na gathered management for a meeting.
"Planning and creative departments need to start fast. I can ask senior contacts to try out," said Kim Seung-jae, a trained pro with industry ties.
"Rep Yoon, I know some juniors job-hunting. Should I call them?" Jung Duk-ho, a management grad, had connections too.
Yoon Hye-na, new to the industry, lacked such networks.
"Then, thanks to Chief Kim and Agent Jung. Selection system—we'll discuss details once planning's set. For now, jot down ideas. Hard work, everyone."
For days, Lee Jin-woo camped at the company, working or creating, going nowhere.
Too many choices, too much agony.
He stopped choosing. Excluding grayed-out (used) songs, he "created" all available ones.
Why? He watched Abracadabra go from bright to gray to black while hesitating.
It was taken—someone else created it, stealing his chance.
Damn it, just damn it!
His only thought: stab himself twice.
Losing a ready-made hit hurt worse than death.
"Idiot, total idiot." Cursing his stupidity, he "created."
No, not copied.
Creating, while scolding himself.
He sent all songs to KCC for registration.
KCC—Korea Copyright Commission.
Once registered, the song was his, untouchable.
Composers check KCC's library before creating to avoid wasting effort on existing tracks.
It's crushing—pouring your heart into a song, only to find it's taken.
Some never recover, quitting the industry.
He'd forgotten: entertainment library rewards need cashing in.
Luckily, daily reports came.
"Reports" meant eating and drinking with the kids.
While enjoying food, they shared the day's work.
Lee Jin-woo ordered heaps of low-calorie, low-fat dishes, waiting in the office.
Under his lead, Zy Plus's vibe was tight-knit.
This rhythm stopped with a call. "I'm meeting Fu-jeong noona. Company's on you."
Telling Yoon Hye-na to keep the team dinners, he left Driver Kim, driving the Land Rover to Shilla Hotel.
"Ah~" A goose-down pillow flew as he entered.
Smack~
Swatting it aside, he eyed the trashed executive suite. "What's up? Who pissed you off?"
Lee Fu-jeong flicked her hair, sitting coldly on the sofa.
Picking up the pillow, he headed to the mini-bar. "Beer or whiskey?"
"Whiskey, on the rocks." Holding two ridged glasses and a crystal bottle, he filled them with ice, pouring a splash of whiskey.
Clink~
Ice rattled as Lee Fu-jeong downed the amber liquid.
She slid the glass forward, signaling another.
"You'll get drunk." Still, he refilled it.
Swirling his glass to dilute the whiskey, he sipped. "Not bad. Seems you prefer whiskey, noona."
"Sorry you saw that."
Two drinks in, her rage subsided.
Earlier, she'd wanted to kill.
That damn man—she pitied him, let him back. And what'd he do?
Day one, he hit a club, got wasted, and crashed among cheap women.
No big deal; she felt nothing for him.
But photos leaked, forcing her to pay a hefty hush fee.
And it still spread quietly.
A surprise expense, plus being mocked—that's why she exploded.
"Jin-woo, don't end up like me. Your marriage better be happy!"
Her regret grew, questioning her past choices.
"No worries. I'm anti-marriage."
Her skeptical look met his grin. "Noona, isn't just enjoying love's thrill better? Passion fades, part clean. Why let it get messy?"
"What's that nonsense? Kids?"
"Need marriage for kids?"
He tapped his head, then lit up. "Oh, marry a woman, have the kid, divorce. Sign a prenup, no issues. Foreigner's best—less drama. Mixed kids are trendy, right?"
Lee Fu-jeong was floored.
You're making me look dumb…
"Kidding. Feeling better?"
Pouring more whiskey, he raised his glass. "Cheers."
Clink~
Sipping diluted liquor, her cheeks flushed peachy, cool eyes turning misty, like spring pools.
Thump~
His chiseled jaw and profile, tilted back, rippled her calm.
Gulp.
Her throat parched despite downing the drink.
"More." The crystal bottle emptied.
Eyes hazy, she propped her chin, staring. "Jin-woo, am I not pretty?"
Curvy, full—how could she not be?
"Gorgeous," he said honestly.
"Then why not look?" She tilted her head, smirking naughtily.
He sipped, quelling his stir. "I'm a man of principles."
"Aigoo, our Jin-woo's such a saint… Company girls enough for you?"
Cough~
Her sharp intuition, striking from odd angles, was terrifying.
"Stressed? Just quit."
"Quit? How do you ditch the life you're used to?"
She swayed upright, eyes dazed, staring. "Tell me, how do you abandon what you have? If you never had it, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much."
He pointed at himself, grinning. "What about me? A monster?"
"You… yeah, a monster." She counted on her fingers. "Look what you've done."
"Jin-woo, leaving home—how? Did Chairman Lee slip you cash?"
"Nope~" He shook his head.
A cheat-code life needed no explanation.
Thump.
Clutching her forehead, she winced. "Ah~ Hurts."
Seeing her fully drunk, he sighed. "Aish, drunk and still acting tough. Be weak like other women—it won't kill you."
Scooping her up, he strode to the bedroom.
Sleek suit pants, white shirt, chest adorned with a white flower, lace framing a faux V-neck—she looked sharp, as always.
"Aish, relax a bit. Being so tough—what's it get you?"
Pulling the blanket over her, her soft, pale arms looped around his neck. "Jin-woo-ya, noona needs someone now. Stay, ah~?"
(End of Chapter)
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