Chapter Text
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so, brown eyes, I'll hold you near
cause you're the only song I want to hear
a melody softly soaring through my atmosphere- where soul meets body (death cab for cutie)
BACKSTAGE Exclusive: Catching up with WOOZI
By Entertainment Correspondent Boo Seungkwan
…and well, what isn’t there to love about WOOZI? Not only is he a talented musician, the darling of the industry is also famous for his kind personality. He’s known to listen to his fans, yes, but he is also exceptionally thoughtful to people like me, who work behind the scenes. Every time I get to talk to him, it always feels like a nice chat between friends, like we’ve known each other for ages.
It’s no different for today’s interview. We have a very limited amount of time today, but the star is as gracious as ever, and helps find a quieter spot when I confess that I’ve been having trouble finding a suitable location for us to sit down. That ends up being his dressing room, where I see that papers and notebooks line the counters in front of the mirrors.
You’re likely to know already, but in case you’re new around here - Woozi writes all of his own music and performs it all himself too. In addition to his primary instrument, the guitar, he can play the drums, piano, and a whole host of other instruments. It’s absolutely exhilarating seeing Woozi’s creative process up close like this - when I tell him my thinking, he smiles, and I swear I could fall in love! There’s only enough time for one question tonight though, so I shake it off and cut to the chase.
It’s been two years since “Ruby” hit the top of the charts - a cultural phenomenon that wasn’t just confined to the music industry. There are many aspects of the song that contribute to its longevity, but one of my favorite aspects is Woozi’s choice to describe the singer/himself as turning into a jewel - yet another example of the singer’s fascinating lyric-writing. I ask Woozi if he could do us fans a favor and tease his next project?
“Well, I think it’s going to be something no one expects,” the singer says. His demeanor has shifted into something more serious. “I’ve been experimenting - trying some old things, some new things, some things that are in-between. Also -” There’s a pause here - “I would like to say sorry to my fans. I know you’ve been waiting a while, right? I admit that I’ve been rather stuck.”
He chuckles, in that somewhat self-deprecating way that is simultaneously charming as well as very heartbreaking. I was never a prolific songwriter myself, but having some experience as a singer and performer, I know firsthand how horrible creative blocks are.
I compliment Woozi on his openness. “It’s nothing really,” he says, simply waving it away. “I don’t think it’s anything to be ashamed of. And my supporters deserve transparency, hm? I wouldn’t be anywhere without them.” He smiles again - the thoughts of fans seemed to have cheered him up. “I can’t say much now, but I promise it’ll be great. I can’t wait to reveal it to you all!”
There’s a soft knock on the door - it seems that it’s time for Woozi to go. As I leave the room, I see him carefully gathering his things, neatly collecting the loose paper and notebooks into his bag. For some reason, that image has stayed with me.
To WOOZI, if you happen to be reading this humble article, know that the readers and I are cheering you on! We can’t wait to hear what music you’ll release next. Whatever it is, it’s sure to be amazing!
⌖ ⌖ ⌖
It only took Jihoon’s manager a few minutes to explain the clause, on one dim afternoon after they had returned from an interview. In the fading light of the day, Wonwoo wanted to draw his attention to a specific part of his contract. A clause, regarding insurance, the manager had said, an unfamiliar sadness clouding his voice.
The company could collect insurance in case he couldn’t perform. The company also collected all royalties from his catalog after his death.
I see. Jihoon had said, with the uncomplicated directness of his youth. But I’m okay if I don’t end up very wealthy, I just need enough for Chan’s education and medical expenses.
Only later, did the full gravity of his situation sink in.
One of Jihoon’s closest friends in the industry, Lee Seokmin - better known as the pop star Dokyeom, also signed to Jihoon’s record label - didn’t show up on the night he was to receive a major award. It was incredibly unlike the star, who had been looking forward to thanking his fans.
The night ended early, as Seokmin’s scheduled half hour performance vanished from the program. The sight of Seokmin’s fans, still holding their signs and banners high even as they grew increasingly worried, haunted Jihoon throughout the event.
Both Seokmin and his manager, Yoon Jeonghan, were reported missing the day after the ceremony. Jihoon spent a restless week distracted from his work, attention fixed on following the police investigation minute by minute.
Jihoon had thought that he’d prepared himself for the worst already, but the room tilted sharply all the same when he saw the mangled wreck of Seokmin’s van being pulled out from a lake on TV.
Police Chief Wen reported the findings in a press conference earlier this afternoon, the anchor was saying.
The TV cut to a recording of a somber man in front of a podium. “Foul play has been ruled out, as confirmed per autopsy results from Medical Examiner Xu. We will not be taking any further questions from the public at this point.”
A week later, Jihoon visited Seokmin’s boyfriend, Hong Jisoo, as well as Jeonghan’s fiancé, Choi Seungcheol. He couldn’t answer when Jisoo asked him why no one was talking about the fact that the lake was several miles away from the venue. Neither did he know why the news was reporting like there had been heavy rain that night, when in fact it had been at most light, like Seungcheol pointed out. Jihoon noticed that the company had sent them each identical flower arrangements, down to the silver card that said Condolences.
The workers at the record label had been whispering to each other about the CEO’s arrival this morning. Isn’t this the fourth new car this year? Where is he even getting the money from?
When Jihoon returned to his apartment, he nearly tore his office apart before he found his copy of the contract, having filed it haphazardly away on the assumption that he wouldn’t need to worry about it.
The dull words now jumped out to him.
If Jihoon died, he wouldn’t be able to write albums or perform - to fulfill his contractual obligations. The company could then claim insurance. That payout would be worth far more than Jihoon would ever earn in his life and - as evident from Seokmin’s last album currently recharting higher than it ever did before as fans mourned - Jihoon would secure profits for them forever if he died young and especially tragically.
Jihoon called Wonwoo and didn’t bother keeping his voice level when the manager picked up.
“That must be why they call it the death clause,” Wonwoo whispered, into the silence after Jihoon had finally stopped, having lost his voice. “I had a suspicion, but I didn’t know they’d actually go so far.” A pause. “ If I knew, I wouldn’t have let you sign with us. I’m sorry.”
⌖ ⌖ ⌖
“Hyung!”
“Hi Channie. I'm sorry that I haven't called in a while.”
“Oh, It’s okay, you're touring! I bet the venues are packed, aren't they?”
“Well - same old, same old.”
“You're really too modest.”
“...but I'm calling because I wanted to know how you've been. Are classes okay so far? Making friends?”
“Silly hyung. Of course I am! The classes are great. The campus is beautiful. Actually, I saw a flyer for a dance club earlier. Apparently they're pretty serious and even host a dance competition with other universities each spring. Isn't that really amazing?
“You should join.”
“Well…what would I do, watch from the sidelines?”
“You could choreograph.”
“...I suppose you're right.”
“When do they meet?”
“..Next Monday, at four.”
“See, you've memorized the details already. Why don't you give it a shot? Ask the club president if they've already decided on what they're performing in the spring. It's a good chance to meet more people, either way.”
“You know what? I think I will. It seems fun!”
“Tell me how it goes. Leave a message or text if I can't come to the phone. I'll try not to miss it though…I'm sorry again…”
“It's really okay, hyung. You're really busy and I don't want to distract you from your work. Speaking of - is everything alright? Can I do anything to help?”
“The best thing you can do for me is to be happy.”
“Oh, Hyung! You say that every time!”
“I'm serious, Chan-ah.”
“Alright. Well then, I'm only happy when you're happy, alright? You better be taking care of yourself, Lee Jihoon!”
“Okay, Chan-ah. I will.”
“Good.”
“Channie, I have to go now. Keep me posted, okay? I'll look forward to it.”
“Okay! Goodnight, hyung. Talk to you soon!”
⌖ ⌖ ⌖
Jihoon’s apartment had never felt warm, but at night, the space seemed to grow sharper in its emptiness. Though the dark dulled his vision, his furniture - the needlessly stately living room, the slightly-too large kitchen island, the high ceilings that made him feel strangely unmoored - seemed to quietly taunt him in its uselessness. The shadows felt almost tangible, curling around corners and windows.
At night, it was also harder to ignore the sliver of light under the door down the hallway, where his bodyguard stayed. Kwon Hoshi, the agency had told him, seven years ago. A precaution, to combat the surge in concerning incidents. He’ll be staying with you until further notice.
Everyone in the room knew that wasn’t the reason - Only a year after his debut album, Lee Jihoon had no crazed fans nor enough dangers to warrant 24/7 protection - but there was very little use in fighting the company anyway.
Over the years, Hoshi had proved himself to be a dutiful bodyguard. As time passed, Jihoon realized that the other’s constant presence had become reassuring to him. They barely exchanged anything beyond pleasantries, but Hoshi had become a fixture in Jihoon’s life just the same. In hazy and delirious moments, when Jihoon had a little too much to drink, or simply when the loneliness felt too heavy, Jihoon would let himself think about a different life, in a different world.
In that universe, maybe the fact that Hoshi had placed a blanket over Jihoon once when he’d fallen asleep at the kitchen table, exhausted, would mean something. That Hoshi always put blankets over Jihoon after that - when he fell asleep in the car, at a waiting room, or simply on his couch away from his bed - would mean something too.
In that universe, maybe the band-aids and first aid kit Jihoon set by Hoshi’s door after the guard took a sharp punch to the face intended for Jihoon would mean something. That Jihoon fiercely spoke up for Hoshi at the meeting after the incident where the company considered firing the guard - and continued to insist on keeping Hoshi whenever the label considered something different - would mean something as well.
But no amount of wishing would change reality. In this world, Hoshi was a member of the mafia laundering money through the record label. He was a guard, yes, but the primary reason he was here was to keep an eye on Jihoon. To make sure that he listened to the company, and stayed quiet.
If Jihoon stepped out of line, the crime ring would probably retaliate through the bodyguard. And even if Jihoon stayed compliant until the very end, when his time ran out, Hoshi was likely to be involved in his death.
It was a dangerous thing, that wish.
⌖ ⌖ ⌖
[NEW & RISING] WOOZI’s second album shatters predictions, setting industry records
Last week, singer-songwriter WOOZI surprised everyone with the sudden release of his second album. Despite the short amount of time since his debut, “Bottled Star” shows no hint of a sophomore slump. The effort is as ambitious as it is deeply personal, and while that sounds impossible at first glance, WOOZI’s authentic lyrics bridges that gap with astonishing ease and charm.... [read more]
⌖ ⌖ ⌖
In the end, Jihoon’s 27th birthday arrived like a whisper, slowly tiptoeing into his consciousness.
If Seokmin were still alive, he'd probably be shocked at Jihoon’s nonchalance. You know you're dying today, and you're this calm? he'd probably ask. The company has determined that you're no longer useful, and is now disposing of you - and you're okay with it?
Jihoon wasn't okay with it. But at the same time, there wasn't much for him to do. He'd wrestled with the thought for nine years, and truthfully, he was simply exhausted.
He achieved his childhood dream, and had a successful career. He had met wonderful people, who made his life colorful and vibrant. Even though he hadn't been able to write any new music in two years, he toured extensively during that time, and got to thank so many fans. Most importantly, he had successfully put Chan through university and graduate school, getting to enjoy all the things the young should enjoy, the little memories that Jihoon once feared Chan would never experience.
Despite the steady stream of well wishes from fans on social media and colleagues, everything seemed distant to Jihoon during the day.
The significance snapped back in full force when Jihoon returned to his apartment, but after a moment, he shook it off. There was plenty to do before then.
It was mostly unnecessary - for instance, he had finalized a will months ago, and the necessary letters were all written long before - but the mundane tasks were soothing.
He took a few bites of the cake Wonwoo had left for him.
The apartment was spotless.
He has listened to the heartfelt message Chan left him until he had it memorized, word for word.
His books and records were in order.
He left the front door unlocked, so it'd be a little easier for Wonwoo to find him after.
After…
Jihoon spent some time debating with himself on if he should try to sleep. At last, he decided that he'd face the end head on. To stay in the kitchen, where he first learned of his fate so long ago, seemed fitting.
From his seat at the table, he had a clear view of the line of light under Hoshi’s door. Any moment now, when he heard the creak of the door hinges, he knew it would be over.
He closed his eyes.
Breathe in - Wait for me, Seokmin - and breathe out - Didn’t I promise I’d write a song for you, like you always asked?
Inhale - Wonwoo, don’t feel sorry, you always did your best - and exhale - I was happy to know you.
Breathe in - What kind of hyung am I, hm? - and breathe out - The world can be cruel in so many ways, but I hope you always know that it can be beautiful in ten thousand more, each as warm and everlasting as the other.
Live well, Lee Chan.
A gunshot rings, sharp and sudden. White races across the back of his eyelids as the low rumble of a wall collapsing rushes in. He doesn’t bother to try to brace himself when the ground gives way, but instead of feeling the cool tile of the floor,
Something arrests his fall.
No , he realizes. Not something - rather, someone.
⌖ ⌖ ⌖
“Hey Minghao - wanna bet?” Seokmin leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice to a whisper for dramatic effect. “What do you think will happen first: my debut, Mingyu passing the bar exam, or you graduating from medical school?”
“Hey, is the thought of me passing my bar exam so unfathomable?” Mingyu protested. “I’m not that silly, you know! I’m studying day and night for it!”
“Seokmin, you’ve been in that company for ten years already.” Minghao replied. “Mingyu is taking the exam in two years…I just entered medical school.”
“Hm…my best friends are right indeed. It has been ten years…” Seokmin’s eyes seemed to fill with wistfulness, but in a split second he was back to laughing and smiling again. “Either way, when I make it, you and Mingyu have to come to at least one of my concerts per year, okay? I'm counting on it!”
“Minghao, Seokmin makes us promise this everytime we meet, doesn’t he?” Mingyu chuckled. “We always say yes!”
“Of course I will,” Minghao confirmed. “Now. you focus on staying healthy and well, okay? Don’t do anything crazy and end up on my autopsy table.”
I’m worried about you, is what Minghao should’ve said. But he swallowed it.
“Thank you for coming all the way to visit. Have a safe trip back, okay?”
⌖ ⌖ ⌖
“Xu Minghao speaking.”
“Mr. Xu. This is Chief Wen. I’m sorry to have to disturb you again. A singer by the name of - “
⌖ ⌖ ⌖
“Hello Manager Jeon! I'm sorry for the sudden call… I was just wondering if you're with my brother right now? I need to wish him a happy birthday, but he hasn't been answering his phone.”
“Chan…”
“Hm? Is something wrong?”
⌖ ⌖ ⌖
“You wanted to speak with me, Manager Jeon?”
“S- Hoshi. Mr. Kwon. Whatever your name is now. Will you promise me one thing, at least? I don’t care what your real purpose at this company is - but protect Jihoon with your life for as long as possible. Please. This is me begging you.”