Chapter 1034: I knew it (3)

"Behind the Music Team's Story"

— To Be Included in the Sound of Sun Blu-ray

A director sat in front of a Sound of Sun photo wall, elegantly draping a shawl over her shoulders.

Deborah Kim | Director

The most important thing about this film was the music.

The question we focused on from the very beginning was: How do we portray the life of a great musician like Sun Myungju through music itself?

That was our central concern.

Footage showed the production team fiercely debating in a conference room, Sun Myungju's song list plastered across an entire wall.

Among them, a close-up zoomed in on Wooju, listening intently to the staff while chewing thoughtfully on a pen.

Deborah Kim | Director

In that sense, the key figure in our film was Wooju.

He successfully staged his father's first concert in twenty years, and he also presented the wonderful jazz piece Answer as a response to his father's Question.

He was the perfect person to handle the music for this film.

As footage played of Wooju shuffling through papers and speaking passionately to the production team, the interview shifted.

A somewhat heavyset Asian American man appeared on screen.

His face carried the unmistakable look of someone with boundless ambition.

Frank Chow | Executive Producer

The most remarkable thing about Wooju is his instinct.

This kid isn't limited by genre.

No matter what kind of music you hand him, he makes it his own.

Frank Chow and Sun Wooju sat together in a studio.

Using the musical Chicago as a reference, Frank explained how jazz could be blended with musical theater.

Wooju tapped the piano keys.

Wooju: "Like this?"

Immediately, one of Sun Myungju's jazz pieces transformed into a musical number.

It felt as though someone had taken a legendary sculpture from Ancient Greece and reimagined it for the modern age.

Wooju: "So this is what you mean, right?"

Frank: "Damn it."

Wooju: "Where are you going, Frank?"

Frank: "I need a strong espresso. It's the only thing that'll soothe the pain of watching my entire musical career get invalidated."

The surrounding staff burst into laughter.

Wooju: "Come back soon! You still have so much left to teach me!"

Frank: "Nope. Not coming back."

Everyone laughed even harder as the legendary Broadway composer watched his life's knowledge get stolen in real time.

The interview returned.

Frank Chow shrugged helplessly.

Frank Chow | Executive Producer

As you can see, I taught him everything I knew.

And he ended up creating most of the music for Sound of Sun.

The screen shifted to another interview.

A Jewish-American music director with streaks of gray in his hair.

Travis Walcott | Music Director

Frank's reaction was hilarious.

At first, he confidently shared all his expertise.

Then he watched Wooju absorb it like a blank sheet of paper soaking up ink, and suddenly he became terrified.

It was the same reaction Dr. Frankenstein had toward his creation.

"What exactly have I made?"

Then the documentary finally introduced the person responsible for bringing the music of Sound of Sun to life.

A beautiful statue-like figure sat beneath the studio lights wearing a black sweater.

His long legs, crossed beneath gray slacks, seemed almost too long for him to manage comfortably.

Wooju: "Thank you~"

While a staff member attached an audio microphone, he relaxed quietly before turning toward the camera.

The title the production team had given him wasn't related to music or production.

It was something else entirely.

Something that reflected how irreplaceable he was.

Sun Wooju | The Other "Sun"

Hello.

I'm Sun Wooju, and I participated in the music for this film.

Unlike the previous interviews, this one was conducted in Korean.

Perhaps it was the warm, attractive timbre of his voice.

Listening to him somehow made people want to enroll in Korean classes.

The interview began in earnest.

Sun Wooju | The Other "Sun"

The first challenge was selecting the music.

As you know, my father was incredibly prolific.

That meant there were also countless masterpieces to choose from.

It was an extremely difficult task.

It felt like being handed an essay prompt that said:

"Summarize the life of musician Sun Myungju in roughly ten songs."

Thus, eleven musical numbers were selected.

Sun Wooju | The Other "Sun"

Jazz serves as the foundation, but we also fused it with a variety of genres.

Pop.

Hip-hop.

Some songs even incorporate rock and roll.

The film showed Sun Myungju passionately playing piano while actors danced and harmonized around him.

Amid dazzling ensemble dance sequences, Wooju's narration continued.

Sun Wooju | The Other "Sun"

This is also connected to my father's musical philosophy.

The film contains many conflicts, but one of its major themes revolves around the disagreements that existed between my father and several jazz musicians.

A scene appeared showing famous Black jazz musicians arguing heatedly with Sun Myungju, pointing fingers and raising their voices.

Sun Wooju | The Other "Sun"

They were traditionalists.

They believed jazz should preserve its essence.

My father argued that jazz wasn't a fixed form—that it was something that constantly evolved.

Of course, I don't think anyone can definitively say which side was right.

But as we saw during the twentieth-anniversary concert, my father deeply valued communication between jazz and other musical genres.

A film clip showed Sun Myungju joyfully performing piano alongside a rock-and-roll band.

Sun Wooju | The Other "Sun"

It was an incredibly difficult project.

And the actors worked very hard recording the OST.

Footage showed Wooju smiling gently while endlessly repeating:

"Shall we try that again?"

Meanwhile, the actors looked utterly drained.

Lee Gyeonwoo | Sun Myungju

Yes.

That would be me.

(laughs)

One of Korea's most handsome actors sat in his chair looking like a living sculpture.

Lee Gyeonwoo | Sun Myungju

Charlie Chaplin once said:

"Life is a tragedy when seen up close, but a comedy when viewed from afar."

...I agree with that one hundred percent.

You could replace life with Wooju and it would still make perfect sense.

The handsome actor smiled with the melancholy of a sweet potato covered in dirt.

Then the footage returned to Wooju directing actors in the recording studio.

Everyone knows this already, but live performances and recorded tracks are different.

No matter how perfect a singer's live performance is, a concert inevitably includes a few small mistakes.

That's simply what happens when you're singing dozens of songs.

But nobody watches a concert and thinks:

"What?! They made a mistake live? What a terrible singer!"

As long as the mistake isn't major, audiences often accept those imperfections as part of the charm of live performance.

Sometimes they even enjoy it more because it reminds them they're experiencing something real.

The appeal of live music lies in its uniqueness.

Unlike recordings, the atmosphere changes depending on the singer's condition, the audience's energy, and the mood of that particular day.

Recordings are different.

A recording cannot contain mistakes.

Because people listen to it repeatedly.

Think of a stretching exercise video.

"All right, next we're going to stretch our lower backs!"

So you prepare to stretch your lower back.

Then—

"Oops! Actually, we're stretching our shoulders today~!"

The instructor laughs awkwardly.

If you only watched it once, it wouldn't matter.

But stretching videos are something people follow every day.

After hearing the same mistake over and over, it starts becoming irritating.

I'd even left comments asking them to fix it.

They still hadn't.

"Junghyun."

"Hm? Me?"

"When are you finally going to fix that mistake in the stretching video? I get confused every time I follow it."

"I'll fix it."

Junghyun smiled confidently.

I knew better.

Ask him again two days later and he'd probably go:

"Huh?"

Then laugh and blame his poor memory.

"Hmmmmm~"

Since Junghyun's video had come to mind, I stretched using the exercises he'd taught me.

"Finished!"

After stretching thoroughly, I clicked through the files on my monitor.

The completed Sound of Sun OST began playing.

Gentle songs filled with emotion.

Exciting rock-and-roll tracks.

"Whoaaaaa—!"

"Wow... This is incredible."

The little followers sitting beside me stared with sparkling eyes.

Ri Hyuk's face was slightly flushed.

The music must have been genuinely good because his body was unconsciously moving along with it.

"Wow..."

"What do you think, Ri Hyuk? Good, right?"

"I love it. I thought it was great before, but hearing it transformed like this... wow..."

Our main vocalist spoke.

"Honestly, if this were a musical, I'd want to play the lead role."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I couldn't actually do it, but I desperately want to sing these songs."

"Why couldn't you?"

"Because I'd have to have a romance with your mother."

"That's a fair point..."

Which immediately eliminated both me and Jiho as candidates.

While Jiho high-fived Ri Hyuk and declared, "We're comrades!"

I asked the others:

"So? Which song is your favorite?"

"Like The Sun."

Biju answered immediately.

"It's the song where your father basically declares to the world, 'I shine brilliantly like the sun.' It feels like the movie's climax. Listening to it makes me feel like I can do anything."

The others nodded.

"Same."

"Me too."

"I think it's the song that best shows what kind of person your father was."

"I liked that one the most too."

Then Junghyun asked:

"What song of your father's was this adapted from?"

"Oh, this one?"

I looked at them.

"I wrote it."

"...?"

"I made Here I Am for Mom's theme song before, remember? It felt strange not having one for Dad too. So I wrote another song."

"...??"

I cheerfully announced that the song had simply appeared.

The members blinked.

"What's wrong?"

"So..."

Ri Hyuk stammered.

"You mean this isn't based on one of your father's songs?"

"No."

"It's just... an original composition?"

"Well, I didn't throw it together casually, but I wrote it pretty quickly."

"..."

The instant I finished speaking, the members latched onto me.

"W-What? What's going on?"

"You can't abandon us after winning the Academy Award for Best Original Song, okay?"

"Hey."

I burst out laughing as the maknae dangled from my arm.

"You think the Academy Awards are some kind of joke?"

"No, seriously! The song is that good!"

The others nodded vigorously.

"It really is."

"Until you told us, we thought it was one of your father's classics."

"We fell in love with it assuming your father wrote it."

"And then we discovered you standing behind it, smiling transparently."

Ri Hyuk spoke with profound regret.

I laughed.

Then shook off the exaggerated praise.

"I'll take it as a compliment. It just means the song came out well."

"I'm not exaggerating."

Ri Hyuk shook his head.

"I watch the Academy Awards every year. Songs like this aren't common."

"Sure, sure."

I wasn't convinced it was that good.

Still, receiving praise for an original song I'd written felt nice.

While we chatted happily—

"Kiiieeeek..."

A strange Gollum-like noise emerged from somewhere.

Someone sprawled across the sofa lifted his head while coughing.

The signature rich-heir comma hairstyle was now completely destroyed.

The handsome face beneath it looked utterly exhausted.

"Cough... Of course the songs are... this good..."

It was Lee Gyeonwoo.

The only actor still left after finishing the final recording session.

Junghyun carefully poured water into his mouth from a kettle as if watering a flower.

Glug.

Glug.

After finally hydrating, Lee Gyeonwoo smiled like a sea otter holding a clam.

"Ugh... I think I'm alive again..."

"Sunbaenim, what did you say earlier?"

"I said the songs had every reason to be this good..."

"Why?"

"Because the people recording them suffered that much..."

I gazed silently into the distance.

"Again. Let's do it again."

"No. We can't release it like this."

"Again."

I might have pushed them a little hard.

After all, this wasn't just another movie OST.

It was my father's biographical film.

That made me stricter than usual.

I repeated takes until everyone reached one hundred and twenty percent of their abilities.

Even the members watching had suffered.

"Ugh... Trauma..."

"I suddenly want to throw up even though I didn't do anything."

At one point, even the engineers had intervened.

"Maybe we can just fix the rest in post-production..."

Even Lee Gyeonwoo, famous for his diligence, occasionally tried imitating my father's expression while pleading for a break.

Unfortunately, it never worked.

Because our talented maknae always caught him.

"Hyung. He's acting."

"I see!"

I still remembered the murderous look Lee Gyeonwoo gave my little henchman afterward.

"Sorry, Sunbaenim..."

"No. It's fine. The result came out perfectly."

"Should we try making it even more perfect?"

His eyes widened.

"I was joking. Just joking..."

"Wooju."

He looked at me seriously.

"No matter how close we are, I don't think we're close enough for jokes like that."

"Wait."

I blinked.

"Were we that close?"

"...!"

The introverted actor looked genuinely wounded.

I laughed.

"I'm joking."

"..."

"It was really a joke..."

"..."

"Sunbaenim?"

Once again, I learned that healing the heart of an introvert after accidentally hurting it required significant effort.

After everyone gathered around trying to cheer him up, I stood.

Lee Gyeonwoo immediately scrambled backward across the sofa in terror.

"W-What?"

"I'm helping you up."

"...?"

I smiled and held up my phone.

"The director just contacted me."

I grinned.

"They're holding a screening of the first edited cut."

An internal screening.

Generally speaking, it's an event where the production team and investors watch a completed film together.

The specifics vary from movie to movie.

But that's the basic idea.

You've probably seen headlines like:

Secret Agent 2 Receives Overwhelming Praise at Internal Screening

When a film exceeds expectations, articles like that generate excitement.

Or:

World Art Disappointed with Quality of Bomberman: New Year, Orders Reshoots

If serious issues are discovered, reshoots can be ordered.

Some films are saved dramatically through that process.

Others fail anyway, becoming the sort of sequel fans collectively pretend never existed.

Jiho spoke excitedly.

"These days they even do test screenings for target audiences."

"Really?"

"Yep. Sometimes they invite a hundred friends and family members too..."

"Wow. That's fascinating."

I patted the maknae's head while listening to him rapid-fire movie trivia.

We were currently inside a large practice room on the sixth floor.

A screen had been set up.

Rows of chairs filled the space.

People chatted quietly.

Representatives from Studio Lemon.

Lead and supporting actors.

Seokhwan hyung.

Director Jo Gyuhwan.

Lemon Entertainment staff.

Among them sat Director Kim Bora, holding a microphone with a noticeably tense expression.

"Before we begin, I'd like to mention that post-production work such as CGI hasn't been completed yet. This first edit is primarily for evaluating overall direction. Once it's further refined, we'll hold an official internal screening with the distributor."

The hand gripping the microphone looked stiff.

The pressure she was feeling must have been immense.

Film was often called the director's art.

And ultimately, success or failure rested on the director's shoulders.

"Thank you for watching. We'll have a feedback session afterward, so please make notes if anything stands out."

"Okay~!"

The members and I answered enthusiastically.

Kim Bora walked over like a malfunctioning robot and collapsed into the seat beside me.

"Haaa..."

"I think I understand how you feel."

As a gesture of comfort, I offered her popcorn.

The director silently grabbed a huge handful of sweet popcorn and began chewing.

Then—

The lights went out.

The screen illuminated.

The projector came to life.

Everyone turned their attention toward the film.

[Giggle—]

Studio Lemon's logo appeared.

Five shadowy boys squeezing lemons.

Then—

♩♪♬

A bright swing-jazz melody began playing.

The movie finally started with the image of a man sitting alone in an empty concert hall, softly lit as he played the piano.