Chapter 834: Is This the Land of the New Black? (10)

Cold Brown.

His real name was Phineas Jessup.

If you asked people in Korea, "Do you know any American rappers?" he was the first name ordinary folks would mention.

That was how famous and how great a singer he was. If you were to name the greatest pop stars of the 2010s, he would be one of the representatives.

Ranked No. 13 on Rolling Stone’s 200 Greatest Hip-Hop Albums.

Most nominated artist in American Music Awards history.

The artist who released one of the greatest masterpieces of the 2010s.

This rapper, who was becoming a legend of the current era, boasted unrivaled influence in the hip-hop field.

The moment word spread that Cold Brown had boycotted the Grammys, every hip-hop musician joined in his stance.

Screw you, Grammys!

The image of the singers’ seats at the Grammy Awards sitting eerily empty came to mind.

His influence on the hip-hop scene was that immense, and he himself was the head of the largest American hip-hop label, Nextdoor.

Anyway, that was the status and image he carried in the music industry....

Strangely, among American and Korean netizens, he was famous for a Grammy meme.

[???: Please give him a Grammy already]

(A still of Cold Brown crying in an MV.jpg)

It’s time now, isn’t itㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ

On the internet, Cold Brown was known for desperately wanting to win a Grammy.

Even after nearly 15 years of activity, he had only ever been nominated for the main categories.

He was always in that position where he narrowly slipped.

Some year, a white female singer-songwriter the Grammys felt compelled to push would debut. Another year, after being criticized for excluding Black artists and women, the Grammys would sweep the awards toward a Black female singer and he would lose out.

On top of that, he was clearly conscious of it, and the fact that his albums were heading in a more artistic direction every year also contributed to that image.

You see.

On the laptop screen, the handsome rapper adjusted the corners of his mouth.

To be honest, I’ve achieved everything there is to achieve. I’ve dated incredible women, I’ve got a huge house with a swimming pool. In my garage there are Cadillacs, Ferraris, Lamborghinis stacked up. But I’m no longer interested in material things. I care only about honor.

His eyes were filled with resentment.

The Grammy I haven’t won even once in fifteen years....

You could feel the regret and tears embedded in the word Grammy.

So it wasn’t just a meme.

Perhaps overwhelmed with emotion, Cold Brown, who had been saying "Sorry," stepped out of frame and began to sob.

I whispered with my younger brothers.

"He’s a bit sensitive emotionally."

"They say artists are like that."

After crying for quite a while, Cold Brown returned, sniffed, and continued with his main point.

Anyway, that’s why I made you this offer, Wooju. I have more confidence than anyone in your composing ability.

「Me?」

Among all the singer-songwriters I know, you have the greatest talent.

「Huhhh!」

That sound didn’t come from me but from the lackeys beside me.

I didn’t know why they were shrugging their shoulders and acting shy, but... well.

「You’re flattering me, Cold.」

It’s not flattery. I’m just stating facts. To be honest, I covet Answer that you composed, and your ability as well.

He revealed his greed blatantly, yet strangely, it didn’t feel unpleasant.

And I don’t think I fall behind anyone in composing ability either. You know that. I’m a genius.

「I agree.」

It was when I was looking at the singer who led hip-hop trends with eyes full of respect.

He asked,

So what do you think? I believe it’s an offer that’s not bad for you either... Let’s join forces and make a song worthy of aiming for the Grammys.

My heart had already been tilted ninety percent toward acceptance from the start.

But before making the final decision, I reviewed it one last time.

Various advantages came to mind.

First, by building a favorable relationship with Cold Brown, we could establish positive ties with American hip-hop artists.

That was truly a good thing.

K-pop sucks. It fucking sucks.

Why are those bastards poking around in another country?

This is music only gays listen to.

When METRO beat Cold Brown’s track last year, I had heard that our reputation had worsened among American hip-hop listeners and rappers.

A stone that rolled in from somewhere had pounded and battered a stone that had been embedded for years. It was only natural they’d resent it.

A collaboration with Cold Brown could send a good signal to such people.

And.

If this song were to be nominated for or win a Grammy....

NewBlack’s Wooju has won a Grammy!

It would help us take a step closer to the Grammys as NewBlack.

If they absolutely refused to give awards to boy band music, then we just had to show artistry that surpassed that bias.

The problem was that it was difficult for us to attempt something too adventurous with our own promotional tracks.

As foreign singers who were already unfamiliar, if we gave up popularity as well, surviving in the American market would be difficult.

But if it was an overtly Grammy-targeting collaboration, we could attempt all kinds of artistic approaches and break that mold.

Still thinking?

In truth, beyond all of that, it wasn’t something that required deep 고민.

The chance to collaborate with an artist of that caliber didn’t come often.

「No. I’m done thinking.」

To the greatest rapper who tilted his head as if to say, "So?" I smiled.

「Looking forward to working with you, Cold.」

Looking forward to working with you, Cold.

The moment he heard that, Cold Brown shouted inwardly in triumph.

'Got it!'

What he had wanted for the past few days had rolled into his grasp.

Like an Infinity Stone, one of the gems he needed to reach the Grammys had finally fallen into his hands.

'With this guy, we can crush the Grammys.'

Cold Brown wanted to win a Grammy.

He truly, truly wanted it.

Over the past fifteen years, there had been countless glorious days.

He had won top prizes at various awards, and had become someone every American recognized wherever he went.

But.

Among all of that, there had been no Grammy.

'Fuck.'

He was someone who had turned down multiple requests to perform at the Super Bowl Halftime Show because of scheduling.

'Does it make sense that winning a Grammy is harder than the Super Bowl Halftime Show?!'

It wasn’t that he had never won a Grammy.

He had won plenty of minor Grammy awards. But he had never won the main category he so desperately wanted.

In truth, he hadn’t even wanted to boycott this time.

'I need to stay on good terms with the Grammys...'

He didn’t want to unnecessarily pick a fight with an awards show.

Getting on bad terms with the people who hand out awards, or spitting at them, was something only that blue mad dog in California could do.

In fact, skipping this time hadn’t even been his own will.

Yo! Cold! It’s time to show those Grammy bastards what’s what. Let’s show them our power.

Those sons of bitches! Cold hyung isn’t attending!

Hyung? You’re not attending, right?

With fellow and junior rappers crowding him with "Let’s wreck the Grammys?" Cold Brown had been pushed along with an "Uh, uh, okay."

Well. It hadn’t been a bad thing.

With hip-hop artists boycotting the performance, the Grammys had become the most pitiful banquet in their history.

And the startled Grammys had come out saying they would do better next year.

In the end, it had worked out well.

At this rate, he might even win one of the main Grammy categories this year without much activity.

But that wasn’t what he wanted.

'I’ll set an achievement no one can deny.'

Leaving aside the political issues of awards, he wanted to create a masterpiece that would make people say, "You’re not giving this an award?"

He had been sharpening his blade and working when.

Cold Brown felt shock while watching the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics Opening Ceremony.

'That’s it.'

The message contained within it was perfect. The song Answer.

And the one who had composed it, Sun Wooju.

If he worked with a genius who had composed such an artistic song, it felt like they could create something.

That was why he contacted that crazy person for the first time in a while.

Cold. You bastard. Try reaching out sometime.

You never contact first yourself....

Someone who was twisting blue hair around a finger gave him advice with a sullen expression.

What does NewBlack like?

Yeah.

There are exactly two things they like. One is charcoal-grilled Korean barbecue or something like that.

And the other?

Work.

Haley Blue declared.

They’re the biggest workaholics I’ve ever seen. Even those Wall Street guys who work twenty hours a day would faint if they saw them.

They like work?

So if you want to seduce them, it’s simple. Give them insanely good work. Throw them something that even you think is a good opportunity. If you toss it to them like a bone, they’ll bite into it and tear it apart until it turns into gold.

And if the work I give them isn’t that good?

Uh... there’s a signal. They’ll start smiling silently like crazy. And if they say they’ll review it, it’s over.

If they like it?

They’ll giggle. It’s cute as hell....

After hanging up on the gangster who had staked his claim on NewBlack and told him to pay a toll if he wanted to use them.

Cold Brown had his label staff neatly organize a proposal.

And as a result.

Looking forward to working with you, Cold.

Just as Haley Blue had said, he saw the five members across from him giggling and clapping.

"Likewise."

Cold Brown smiled brightly.

"I’m truly happy to be collaborating with you. I’d like to send a commemorative gift... Is there anything you want? Should I buy you a barbecue restaurant? Or do you drive? A limited edition Lamborghini...."

Working with you is enough.

"Sorry. I’ve gotten used to solving everything with money."

We’re rich.

As he said that, the members looked at someone with a pale face. That someone’s ears turned red.

We’ve got one newly rising conglomerate among us.

"Oh."

Of course, that fortune fluctuates depending on international prices....

He must be the son of a family that owns oil or raw materials.

Unaware that it was Bitcoin, Cold Brown smiled and asked Wooju.

"So how shall we work on it?"

Since we’ve already set the overall direction. How about communicating like this over video?

"Right, there’s no need to meet in person."

Even within the United States, depending on the distance between the West and East Coasts or scheduling, remote collaboration was common in this era.

All the more so if one was across the Pacific in Korea.

"Then shall we start talking about the song?"

Sure.

He explained his plan to Wooju about how to reinterpret Answer, and the other gave feedback.

And the result was truly incredible.

Wooju, seated before the synthesizer, struck the keys without even a second of hesitation and began shaping the song.

'A god of harmony...?'

He paused and asked.

"Have you ever properly studied music? Attended a music school or something?"

I’m self-taught.

"......."

Even for him, who had graduated from a famous music university, it was skill that drew admiration.

'It’s definitely not textbook.'

Should he call it composing by wild instinct?

If those who were educated were more professional but trapped within a frame, here was someone creating free forms unbound by that frame.

It felt like a god with multiple arms whipping up a song in a flash.

As a result.

"......."

In less than an hour of meeting, the framework of the song had been assembled.

To Cold Brown, who looked at him as if staring at a monster, the other smiled shyly.

Maybe because it’s a song I’ve already written once, it’s easy to reassemble.

"I, I see."

Let’s wrap this stage up for now... and our staff should communicate with each other as well.

"Right."

It wasn’t an era where a singer-songwriter could do everything alone.

As they were discussing dividing the groundwork among their respective staff.

Um... but our staff will be leaving for Hawaii soon.

"Oh. They’re going somewhere nice."

They’re going for a song camp....

Wooju clapped his hands.

How about having Cold’s composers join too? It could be a good opportunity for both sides... exchange of personnel and all.

"Sounds good."

As Cold Brown nodded, thinking of the composers whose schedules might align.

Ah! And I just thought of something.

"Yeah?"

You asked earlier if there was a gift I wanted.

"Did something come to mind? What should I buy you?"

As something he could solve with money appeared, Cold Brown smiled brightly.

But what followed was completely different from what he had expected.

Hawaii.

On a beach where the sound of a traditional Hawaiian ukulele could be heard from somewhere.

A group of men and women wearing sunglasses were cheering.

"Wow! It’s summer!"

"Yai yai yai~! Hey, to the sea~!"

"Let’s throw away all our pains in there~"

Experiencing Hawaii in February were the A&R and producing team staff of Lemon Entertainment.

Blazing sunshine.

While the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics unfolded in Korea, this place boasted early-summer weather.

Among tourists in swimsuits and locals selling coconut juice, they spread their arms wide.

"Waaaaa!"

It felt like their bodies and minds, exhausted in Korea, were being healed.

"Commander Woojuseon! Salute!"

"Salute, salute!"

It was truly a song camp supported without sparing expense.

"Th-this is our lodging? This is insane."

"Wow... it’s like a honeymoon resort."

Starting with bungalow resorts with swimming pools, they toured Hawaii’s delicious food.

In the evening, they even watched a Hawaiian hula dance in front of a bonfire.

After finishing that dreamlike sightseeing.

"Whew."

The composers who had unpacked gathered in the resort’s hall.

It was the space where they would work on NewBlack’s album tracks and train with overseas composers.

Thump, thump.

"Hi! Nice to meet you!"

The Koreans were excited, practicing their English.

There wasn’t any special reason they were particularly excited.

'We’re finally free!'

The fact that Woojuseon wasn’t there greatly contributed to their welfare.

It wasn’t that they disliked Wooju.

He gave them gifts every day and took good care of them. He’d propose bonuses to the CEO and make sure they were rewarded.

Sometimes the work was a bit tough, but....

'Career-wise, it’s the best workplace.'

Whether at another company or as freelancers, those in A&R or producing couldn’t pursue work-life balance anywhere.

From that standpoint, Lemon Entertainment, where they could pursue their careers, was the best workplace.

The best facilities in the industry.

Colleagues with top abilities.

And.

Having Sun Wooju was the greatest advantage.

'We can lead trends.'

If it were purely about technical composing ability, they might be better.

After all, they had dug into composing alone.

But when it came to creating trends and crafting the points the public would love, Sun Wooju overwhelmingly surpassed them all.

Every day watching him from the side was a continuous learning experience.

Even so, the reason they disliked it was....

'He nags too much.'

It felt like a national team player wandering around a neighborhood soccer club, casually giving pointers.

Even when you’re playing a game or Go, if someone keeps giving advice, it makes you angry. If that advice is about your actual job.

And if not a single word of it is wrong.

And.

If the person is the highest authority in the company....

"Whew."

"This song camp will really let us work freely."

"Ha ha ha!"

As they were chatting like that.

Ziiiiing—

The screen descended in the hall, and they turned their heads.

"Huh? What is it?"

Soon, a face appeared on the screen before the composers.

"Gasp!"

"What!"

It was Cold Brown, regarded as the greatest rapper in America.

'What’s going on?'

As they were flustered by his sudden appearance.

[Hello. A&R and producing team composers of Lemon Entertainment. I am Cold Brown.]

Of course they knew. They knew all too well.

[As a fellow composer, I would like to express my gratitude for your hard work. Team Manager Na Sangyun. I was deeply moved by Blue Moon. And Composer Saltman, that’s a unique name. You are....]

"Me, me?"

"Co-Cold Brown said my name!"

Whatever the case, Cold Brown sent a thank-you message to the composers and gave a congratulatory speech.

[I support Lemon Entertainment’s song camp.]

"......?"

As they thought perhaps NewBlack had used their connections to receive a congratulatory message.

The screen flashed and the composing monster appeared.

A groan of displeasure followed.

[This is live.]

Silence fell over the hall.

"Wooooooo!"

"Milky-white Sun Wooju!"

"Grea! Test! Major! Shareholder!"

Wooju smiled contentedly.

[Congratulations on the Hawaii song camp. Did you enjoy the first day?]

"Yes!"

[That’s a relief. By the way, I’ve decided to collaborate with Cold Brown this time.]

"Wooooooo!"

[It’s really cool and a great thing, right? But... it might be unfortunate news for you.]

They watched with slightly ominous expressions as the screen changed.

The document labeled Arrangement Plan for Answer appeared, and they nodded.

'A new task.'

When they heard that Cold Brown’s composers would be joining soon, their hearts began to pound.

"But...."

Looking at Wooju smiling brightly, the composers made uneasy expressions.

"The business is over, so why aren’t you leaving?"

[I have some time left, so I thought I’d watch for a bit. I’m curious how you’ll work.]

"That wasn’t the deal! You said Woojuseon wouldn’t attend the song camp!"

Just then.

Ziiiiing.

The door opened and moving TVs began rolling in one after another.

"......."

"......."

As they stared at the TVs taking positions like CCTV cameras, a voice echoed in surround sound from the screens.

[Woojuseon isn’t attending. That’s correct. ...Now, Mr. Ri Hyuk?]

[That is correct.]

Someone stepped forward like a lawyer, adjusting his glasses.

[My client is attending today not as Woojuseon, but as Sun Wooju.]

[You heard him, right?]

The composers smiled.

Then, one by one, they pulled remote controls from their pockets.

[Huh? Wait, what....]

Click.

Sun Wooju’s face vanished with a pop.

Using the remotes they had brought from Korea, the composers turned off the TVs and even unplugged them from the outlets.

The screen rolled back up.

Chuckling, the youngest, Kim Hyeongseop, said,

"After three years at a village school, even a dog learns how to pull the plug."

"Foolish Woojuseon, heh heh heh."

"Did you think we wouldn’t prepare for this much? Ha ha ha ha!"

The composers had endured far too much to be taken down so easily.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

"Muahahahaha!"

...Yet they didn’t realize at all that their laughter sounded exactly like someone they knew.