Now That I Have Become a Woman, I Am a Vtuber - Chapter 120

The song that resonated through the lobby, sung by Kangjun Lee, was a ballad.
“Hmmm.”
It was pleasant to listen to.
The lyrics, which evoked memories of a past lover, the clearly divided parts between low and high notes, and the exhilarating climax where the singer belted out the high notes—it had everything.

Now I understand why it’s number one in karaoke rankings.

It’s the kind of song you’d really want to sing.
Although adding it to my playlist… honestly, it’s not my style.
My preference leans more toward the band music that I heard nonstop earlier in Hyunsoo’s studio.

“What’s the title of the song?”
“It’s called ‘Our Encounter.’”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Oh… Did you enjoy it?”
When I said I’d remember it, Kangjun’s face noticeably brightened.
Is he the type whose emotions are easily displayed on his face?

“To be honest, it just seems like a great song to sing. I’ll try singing it next time I go to karaoke with my friends.”
“Haha, right? That’s exactly what I aimed for.”
“Excuse me?”
You aimed for that? When I asked what he meant, Kangjun scratched his head, looking a little embarrassed.

“Well, these days, ballads aren’t exactly… easy to break into the top ranks with.”
…That’s true.
These days, the charts are practically a battleground for fanbases.
The more famous the artist or the bigger their loyal fanbase, the easier it is to climb the charts.

For ballad singers with smaller fanbases or less recognition, it’s naturally harder to make it.

“So! I targeted the karaoke market instead.”

He said this proudly as he opened his phone to show me a ranking chart.
Wait, why did his energy spike all of a sudden? Is he always like this?

“Let’s see… Oh.”
“After pouring all my resources and running every ad possible to promote the song, I managed to break into the top 10!”
Proudly, Kangjun showed me the chart where his song had successfully landed at number 9.

That’s genuinely impressive.
Especially since spots 1 through 8 weren’t all idols… wait, isn’t Hyunsoo’s song at number 7?
Didn’t he release that album quite some time ago? That’s amazing.

Anyway, it’s definitely something worth bragging about.
There are countless singers who can’t even crack the top 100.
Getting this far means he’s already surpassed the top 1%.

“That’s really impressive.”
Not that I’d start idolizing him or anything.
Maybe it’s just that I’m naturally more subdued?
Noticing my calm response, Kangjun, who had been brimming with energy, seemed to calm down too.

“Anyway, thanks to this rise in popularity, I got the chance to work with composer Kang Woo-hyun.”

Oh, so that’s how it happened? But still, he’s working on a new song? I wonder when it’ll come out.

“If the song you’re working on gets released, when would it come out?”
“Well… we’re aiming for early next year.”
“Is that so?”
From the way he’s talking, he seems pretty concerned about the music rankings….
I glanced at the composer.

Isn’t my song also set to release early next year? Would it be okay if they came out at the same time?
No, wait—Hyunsoo’s album is also set to release early next year.

I wasn’t worried before… but now I can’t help but feel my song might get overshadowed.

Especially since the composer might not know about Hyunsoo’s album schedule….

“If you’re thinking about SlimGold, I already know.”
“Do you read minds?”
How does he know what I’m thinking? Wait, how does he know about Hyunsoo’s schedule?
“There’s been industry buzz about the new album. Plus, you mentioned earlier that you stopped by SlimGold’s studio before coming here.”
“Oh… so you just guessed?”
“It’s called deduction.”

Hyunsoo must have guts.
Even with rumors spreading throughout the industry, he was brimming with confidence.

Is this really the same high schooler I met at the café? A strange sense of pride swelled in my chest.

“Huh? SlimGold? Is he releasing a new song?”
Kangjun, who had been listening to our conversation, suddenly blurted out in surprise.

“Oh, didn’t you know, Kangjun?”
“Really? Oh….”
Judging by his reaction, he didn’t.
Well, I suppose he’d have reason to feel disappointed.
After hearing Hyunsoo’s song earlier, it’s clear he’s at the top of his game right now. If I were in the same industry, I’d instinctively avoid competition….

“…I’m actually looking forward to it.”
But Kangjun’s words took me by surprise.

“Honestly, I really like SlimGold’s songs. I heard he’s still in high school—his talent is insane, isn’t it? I’m so jealous.”

His pure admiration didn’t make him seem like a competitor in the same industry.

Hyunsoo… just how far has he gone?
Could it be that he’s even more recognized in the industry than I thought?
Maybe I’ve unknowingly hitched a ride on a rising star.

“What about you, Suhyun? May I ask what you do?”
Just then, Kangjun turned his attention to me.
He must have gotten curious after hearing that I’d come from Hyunsoo’s studio.

“Oh, me? Uh, I’m just an acquaintance of Hyunsoo’s.”

There’s no need to go into detail about what I do. This much should be enough to satisfy Kangjun’s curiosity.
“An acquaintance? Are you two close?”
“Well, somewhat, I suppose.”
We’re close enough, aren’t we?
“Wow… I’m so jealous.”
“Really?”

“Do you mind if I ask how you became friends?”
“What?”
“He’s famous, you know. For being polite and drawing clear boundaries.”
“Hyunsoo?”
That was news to me.
When I glanced at the composer for confirmation, he nodded without much reaction.

“I actually suggested collaborating on a song once, but he turned me down.”
“What?”
“He said, ‘Maybe next time,’ but that’s still a no, isn’t it?”

Wait, what’s he saying?
“But he was praising you to me earlier, saying how deep your songs are and how someone like him couldn’t compare to a master like you.”
Didn’t Hyunsoo worry before about what the composer thought of him?
But then, behind the scenes, he outright rejected a collaboration? Isn’t that rude to a senior in the industry?
“Haha, really? That’s an honor.”

But instead of being offended, the composer just laughed, clearly pleased.
It was the kind of smile you have when someone you respect acknowledges your skills.

Kangjun, standing beside him, stared at the composer with eyes full of envy, making me feel slightly dizzy.

Wait… isn’t the composer supposed to have the higher tier here?
Am I misunderstanding reality right now?

“Hey, is Hyunsoo really that great?”
I asked to satisfy my curiosity.

“…?”
“What did you just say?”

And I instantly regretted it.
I mean, I know Hyunsoo is amazing, but isn’t this a bit much?

“I mean, he only debuted recently, didn’t he?”
“Which is what makes him all the more impressive.”

The composer pointed to Kangjun, who stood beside him.

“Kangjun debuted six years ago. He started at 18, gaining recognition through an audition program.”

18? He started that young? And through an audition program, no less… Now that I think about it, Kangjun’s start wasn’t bad at all.
“Oh, you know about me?”
“I always do my research on the people I collaborate with.”
“It’s an honor.”

Doing background research on collaborators… That’s a professional attitude I should learn from.
I listened intently as the composer continued.

“Anyway, how many times do you think Kangjun managed to chart after the audition program ended?”
“The charts? Hmm….”

Charting must mean landing within the top 100.
Given the influence of audition programs back then, maybe two or three times?

“Uh… three times?”
Kangjun smiled bitterly.

“I wish that were true.”
“Oh.”

So… he didn’t make it?

“From what I know, after gaining some fame with a popular song during the audition, he had a few performances, but he was eventually forgotten.”
When I glanced sideways at Kangjun, his expression had turned from bitter to downright gloomy.

But the composer, ignoring this, delved even deeper into Kangjun’s past.

“Later, he released an album with connections he made during the program, but it only saw modest success and didn’t chart.”
“…That time really was a shame.”
“Anyway, after that, he participated in composing, songwriting, and featuring on others’ tracks, but his own solo song made the charts for the first time—this year. After six years.”

Ah, no wonder.
There was a reason he was so proud of this.
After spending six years almost entirely unknown following the audition program, he finally got the public’s attention.
Of course, he’d be thrilled.

At least, now. Even if the composer had just exposed his bleak years of obscurity, leaving Kangjun looking utterly crestfallen.

“But then there’s a 19-year-old who singlehandedly writes, composes, and performs his own album, getting multiple songs onto the charts. Without any auditions or support.”

And the composer added one more thing.

“With music from a band—a genre that’s now considered niche in Korea.”
Hearing that made me realize just how incredible it was that Hyunsoo achieved success entirely on his own.

It also explained why the legends of band music held him in such high regard.
Back during that dinner party, hadn’t it been before Hyunsoo even released his “Fantasy” album?
Those people had seen Hyunsoo’s potential before anyone else.

He’s a complete prodigy.

“On top of all that, he’s young, talented, polite, and has no controversies. A perfect rising star.”

The composer smiled faintly and said,
“So, do you see how incredible he is now?”
“Yes… but now I feel kind of… pressured.”
“What part of it?”
Well, isn’t it obvious?

“I agreed to feature on one of Hyunsoo’s album tracks, but now that I know all this….”

The weight on my shoulders just got a lot heavier.

Hyunsoo, you crazy genius.

If you’re that high up in the industry, why would you make someone like me, practically a nobody, carry such a burden?

I said this out of genuine stress, but the composer widened his eyes in amazement,
while Kangjun…

“Uh… uh.”
He stared at me, jaw dropped.

What a straightforward reaction.
If someone offered him a single track from Hyunsoo, he might just faint.