Little Pink Starfish

Chris Edwards had told Choi Jaesung that releasing Players and coming to Korea was his form of escape.

That the world was about to get noisy, so he came somewhere quiet.

From Chris Edwards’ perspective, that wasn’t wrong.

He genuinely wished to stay in a quiet place for a while.

But the reason HR Corporation allowed Eddie to come to Korea during promotional activities was the exact opposite.

Eddie needed to be absent from the U.S. right now.

Even the loud Billboard legends had to keep their mouths shut.

Only then would the curiosity and buzz they generated be directed solely toward The First Day.

The time to stir the embers with chatter was over.

It was now time to pour fuel on the already ignited fire, and to control the flames so they didn’t spread in the wrong direction.

HR Corporation was one of the best at doing exactly that on Billboard.

To some, HR Corporation’s actions to promote TFD may seem ironic.

They’re going all-out to sell TFD, but Sedalbaekil is in Korea.

But this too was proof of how good HR Corporation was at its job.

Currently, the buzz surrounding Sedalbaekil (to be precise, Zion) is natural.

It started with a beef between blues musicians, moved into a documentary, then led to the release of Players, making people curious about the man involved in all those songs—Zion.

And Zion belonged to a group called Sedalbaekil.

When people begin to like someone of their own volition, they often become passionate followers.

But if they realize that what they thought was free will was actually manipulated by marketing?

The excitement dies instantly.

Just like how undisclosed sponsorships get heavily criticized.

That’s why HR had judged that it wasn’t time yet to begin album promotions or tours with Sedalbaekil.

Such actions would come across as nothing more than noise marketing—a bad move.

“So that’s why I’m in Korea, and why we can record like this. OK?”

At Chris Edwards’ words, Choi Jaesung nodded.

It was a long answer to his question about the current situation in the U.S. regarding TFD. He managed to understand it using Google Translate.

He was finally starting to get a rough picture of what was going on.

In truth, Han Sion was a great leader but not a kind one.

He was efficient, but not particularly considerate.

That’s why the members of Sedalbaekil often had no idea how things were unfolding.

They didn’t know exactly how HR Corporation, which had taken the English version of TFD to sell, was operating.

It wasn’t that Han Sion deliberately kept things from them—he just assumed, based on his own standards, that “this much information should be enough.”

But a veteran who’s been immersed in a field too long has completely different standards from normal people.

“So, on that note, let’s head into the booth. Starting with DROP?”

“Sure.”

And so, Choi Jaesung stepped into the booth to record the English version of Stage Side B.

“Say something. Any song is fine.”

–Hi, I’m fine thank you. and, you?

“Why do you like that line so much?”

–It’s like a classic. A classic English sentence.

Eddie exchanged a few words with Jaesung before stepping back.

They had to finish all the recording in just two days—tight schedule.

In truth, Chris Edwards’ reason for coming to Korea did include Choi Jaesung—or rather, Sedalbaekil.

To Chris Edwards, the members of Sedalbaekil—excluding Han Sion—were mysterious beings.

In a way, Chris Edwards was the first producer to discover Sedalbaekil.

It was after Han Sion recognized Norway Flower, and that surprise led Chris to Korea.

Then he visited the commercial TV show Coming Up Next and watched Sedalbaekil’s stage performance.

To be really honest, Chris Edwards had thought at the time that Han Sion was too good for his situation.

He was being held back by a strange TV show, and by teammates assigned to him by that very show.

Han Sion’s talent wasn’t something that should be wasted in such a place.

His talent needed to unfold on a global stage—he had the kind of skill that ranked among the top even among worldwide producers.

No—he had that kind of talent.

But Han Sion had stayed in Korea because he wanted to succeed in K-pop.

‘He said that, but he didn’t seem like someone attached to K-pop at all.’

So Chris Edwards was always puzzled.

What was someone with talent even he envied doing in such a small country?

And why did he team up with those talentless members?

Coming Up Next was certainly a fun show.

Even more so if you knew the unedited footage.

But all the way until the show’s finale, Chris Edwards believed Han Sion was being held back by his team.

Even when Sedalbaekil became an indie band after Coming Up Next ended, he thought the same.

After returning to the U.S., he would occasionally check Sedalbaekil’s YouTube channel, but the hunger to see what Han Sion was truly capable of remained.

That’s why he took Players.

The real goal was to turn it into a hit and bring Han Sion to America.

Chris Edwards’ mindset started changing with TFD.

The First Day.

Thinking of the team name “Three Months and a Hundred Days,” it was the perfect title for a starting line.

That album shattered Chris Edwards’ bias.

Of course, a few tracks were disappointing.

There were moments when he missed Billboard’s top-tier singers.

If it had been Iobin instead of Choi Jaesung, Devotara instead of Lee Ieon, Evan Gaich instead of Onsaemiro, it would’ve been much better.

Goo Taehwan wasn’t an exception either, though at least there weren’t moments where he wanted to completely replace him on the track.

Despite a few lackluster performances, Goo’s unique sense of rhythm had enough originality.

But even with those flaws, TFD was a good album.

No—it was an insane album.

And that’s why it was confusing.

Was Sedalbaekil now at a level that could be compared to Billboard’s top artists?

Or did the producer’s mysterious skill level cover all flaws from the composition stage?

If he had produced Sedalbaekil’s first album, would it have come out at this level?

He’d always wondered, but one album wasn’t enough to tell.

He needed a control group.

That’s why he chose Sedalbaekil as the singers for Players.

The first suggestion came from Andrew Bryant, CEO of HR Corporation, and Chris initially opposed it.

What he wanted was to see Han Sion collaborate with singers other than Sedalbaekil.

But ultimately, he nodded to Andrew’s suggestion—because that lingering question from the first album still remained.

What if I produced Sedalbaekil?

Players was recorded, and while waiting for promotion, their second album dropped.

Stage and three unit albums.

By then, Chris Edwards was confused.

‘Why… can’t I think of anyone?’

Sedalbaekil’s members still weren’t best-in-class singers.

There are many musicians who can sing synth-pop better, and the R&B on Side A didn’t reach top-tier vocalists.

Even so, he couldn’t think of anyone else.

No other singers came to mind who could make these tracks better.

Iobin instead of Choi Jaesung?

No.

Iobin may be a master of electronic pop, but he wouldn’t be able to deliver this feel.

Devotara instead of Lee Ieon?

Her tone was several times better, but she couldn’t replicate Ieon’s pitch-perfect, VST-like accuracy.

Maybe in recording, but live? Ieon would be better.

Onsaemiro and Goo Taehwan had gained distinct strengths.

And those strengths worked on Billboard.

In solo albums, it might be different—but for tracks where parts were divided, there were no real substitutes.

So when asked to record Choi Jaesung’s Side B, Chris gladly agreed.

He wanted to know what had changed so drastically.

‘Guess I’ll find out if we work together.’

They’d collaborated on Players, but Han Sion had directed it.

Chris Edwards wasn’t present at the studio then.

Just as a translator Chris requested arrived, the other Sedalbaekil members came to the studio too.

Turned out that even when recording solo albums, the members usually came together.

At first, Chris thought they were just there to watch—but that wasn’t it.

“Hold on. Wait!”

“Why?”

“Sibilants… Could you ask the interpreter if the pitch was distorted by the sibilants?”

After practicing alone a few times, Choi Jaesung rushed to Lee Ieon.

He listened to the correct pitch for some words.

It used to be Han Sion’s role, but nowadays Ieon did it.

Ieon actually liked giving this kind of help.

And that wasn’t the end.

Choi Jaesung struggled with the subtle nuance difference between English and Korean lyrics and ran over to Goo Taehwan.

“Hyung, try singing this casually once.”

“Give it here.”

Goo Taehwan stared at the A4 sheet with the lyrics, then softly sang.

Onsaemiro shook her head.

“That sounds like R&B.”

“Oh, does it?”

“This is synth-pop.”

“Then I’d probably sing it like this.”

Goo sang again, and this time Jaesung shook his head.

After a few rounds, Jaesung clapped once and went back into the booth.

“Okay. Not bad?”

Chris Edwards said that, but Jaesung didn’t look satisfied.

He suggested setting that section aside for now and recorded other parts first.

As he got to the high notes, he closed his eyes and sang several takes.

This time, he didn’t ask for anyone’s help—but Chris thought he could hear Onsaemiro’s voice in Jaesung’s highest note.

Whether Jaesung knew or not, Onsaemiro had a very playful approach to high notes.

When singers hit high registers, they usually pick one of two options.

Narrow the tone to stab like a fencing foil, or widen it to press like an opera singer.

But Onsaemiro liked to widen the tone gradually, then narrow it again after reaching the top.

Not at the top, but after.

When Chris first heard State Of Mind, he had listened to her ultra-high notes several times.

It was fun.

And now, Jaesung was creating his sound the same way.

It was strange.

Not a method that fits synth-pop—but very unique.

As a director, he felt he should stop it, but hearing the track made him hesitate.

‘Wouldn’t it work if it were just a bit more rhythmic? Even if we ditch some bending tones.’

Chris made a request based on that thought, and again Goo Taehwan stepped in.

But Goo’s rhythm felt outdated, and Chris shook his head.

“Hey, Koo. Too old-school.”

“Ah, wait. I’ll try something different. I’ve been listening to a lot of ‘70s songs lately—guess it rubbed off.”

At that point, Chris was confused whether he was producing Choi Jaesung’s solo album or the whole Sedalbaekil group.

But he was certain of one thing now.

‘So this is how they’ve grown.’

They freely lent their individual strengths to one another.

And the more they used each other’s weapons, the more positively they affected each other.

Chris Edwards grew curious.

‘There’s no way this team will last forever, right?’

The teams that last long are the ones held together by business sense.

Teams that rely on each other like family surprisingly break easily.

Because the bigger the trust, the bigger the betrayal when it breaks.

Chris Edwards found himself both curious about Sedalbaekil’s future and hoping the team wouldn’t fall apart.

If they could last forever, they just might write a new chapter in the history of group sound.