The CEO Forced Me to Be a Movie Queen! (GL) - Chapter 6

The news of the confirmed investment transformed the atmosphere at SPE overnight. For five days, the suffocating gloom that had hung over the company for a year finally lifted. As rumors of the partnership leaked to the press, production staff and management began returning to their posts. “Papa” Ahn and the board directors spent their days in intense but smooth negotiations with the investors.

The investors had already dispatched professional auditors to comb through the books and handle the acquisition details. For a small company of thirty people, this was more than a deal; it was a resurrection.

Even the three remaining members of DTJ, the company’s star boy group, had regained their spirit. Myeong-yun, the main vocal, arrived early at the studio to practice, thoughtfully bringing breakfast for all the staff.

Ailee, who had managed the boys for a time and remained close friends with them, was so moved that she hugged Myeong-yun with teary eyes. “Shine again,” she choked out. “If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

Myeong-yun, tall and handsome with his trademark humility, smiled back. “I hope so too.”

******

With a rare feast laid out, the girls of THEME bowed in gratitude to their “Seniors.” Moon-wol and Ji-hyo, the two biggest foodies of the group, tore into the boxes with matching enthusiasm. Despite not being biological sisters, their lively, carefree personalities made them act like twins as they happily devoured the snacks.

Seol-soo, who avoided greasy food, took only a few symbolic bites. Yoo-ri, whose cold hadn’t fully cleared, sat beside her—a delicate, petite beauty who, like Seol-soo, didn’t eat much.

“These spicy chicken feet are amazing! And the crab legs! Myeong-yun Oppa is so generous,” Moon-wol said, her cheeks bulging. She turned to protest to Seol-soo: “Unnie! Ji-hyo is eating too fast! This isn’t a race—save some for the little sisters!”

Ji-hyo chuckled, chicken foot in hand. “Ah, aren’t you on a diet? You shouldn’t eat too much. Let your Big Sister help you eliminate these evil sources of fat.” Ji-hyo was a genetic lottery winner; with parents who were retired Taekwondo athletes, her metabolic rate was elite. She could eat like a tiger and never gain a gram.

Moon-wol was less fortunate. She was the “cute” type—round face, big eyes—meaning even a tiny bit of weight gain looked exaggerated on camera. To a food lover like her, the struggle to maintain her weight was more painful than the most grueling dance practice.

As the eldest and the leader, Seol-soo watched the daily drama with a weary but fond resignation. She shot a stern look at Ji-hyo. “Don’t bully the Maknae (youngest).”

Ji-hyo chewed thoughtfully. “Moon-wol won’t be the youngest much longer. I heard the new kid is arriving today.”

Moon-wol pouted. “I’m still the youngest for now! Unnie is just a bully.” She turned on her “puppy dog eyes,” making her big eyes shimmer.

Ji-hyo shivered. “Ugh, don’t look at me like that! It makes me feel like a villain.” Defeated by the cuteness, she finally stopped stealing Moon-wol’s food.

The quiet third-eldest, Han Yoo-ri, picked up a piece of rice cake and fed it to Moon-wol. “Here, this one’s good too.”

Moon-wol took a big bite, looking like a happy hamster. “Yoo-ri is the best!”

“Yoo-ri, feed me one too!” Ji-hyo interjected. “You can’t just dote on Moon-wol. She’s faking it. Last time, she ate a whole box of fried chicken by herself and didn’t leave me a single piece.”

Moon-wol huffed and wrapped an arm around Yoo-ri’s shoulder to “claim” her. “No! Yoo-ri isn’t feeding you. You came back full after eating with Papa last time anyway!”

Yoo-ri and Moon-wol had been classmates since kindergarten. Because of her striking looks, Yoo-ri had been scouted as a child model for fashion magazines in the second grade. Both loved singing, so they had joined Papa’s company as trainees together after primary school. From age three to seventeen, they had been inseparable—the group’s “Conjoined Twins.”

Yoo-ri giggled. “Ji-hyo, you can ask Seol-soo Unnie to feed you. She still has rice cakes in her box.”

It was a classic “Conjoined Twin” pincer attack. Seol-soo was the group’s textbook tsundere. As the leader, she could be affectionate in private, but in front of the younger girls, she found it hard to “lose face” by being overly sweet to the second-eldest.

Ji-hyo looked expectantly at Seol-soo. True to form, Seol-soo didn’t even look at her. She simply slid her meal box toward Moon-wol. “Since Myeong-yun Oppa was kind enough to bring this, you can have mine too, Moon-wol.”

She completely ignored Ji-hyo’s silent plea.

The “Twins” clapped in victory and lunged to hug Seol-soo. “We love you, Unnie!”

Ji-hyo grumbled, “Oh, sure. What is this? An ‘Unknown Girl Group Bullying Incident’?”

Seol-soo’s expression chilled immediately. She hated those kinds of jokes; she had seen top-tier groups fall from grace because of such rumors. “Don’t say things like that. Not even as a joke.”

The Twins, acting as Seol-soo’s loyal followers, chimed in immediately. “Exactly! Unnie, you need to discipline Ji-hyo for us!”

Seol-soo smiled at the younger girls, satisfied with the display of unity.

Ji-hyo sighed, leaning against the studio mirror. “Every day feels like being a teacher for a bunch of toddlers. I’m being bullied by the three of you… my ‘Soo-Hyo’ CP is dead. My wife doesn’t love me anymore.” Fans had dubbed Seol-soo and Ji-hyo the “Soo-Hyo” couple because they were middle school classmates and long-time trainees.

Moon-wol didn’t miss a beat. “Was there ever any love to begin with?”

“Are you guys really childhood friends?” Yoo-ri added. “You seem so distant compared to me and Moon-wol.”

Ugh, conjoined twins are the worst, Ji-hyo thought. Finally reaching her limit, she lunged from behind and threw an arm around Seol-soo’s shoulder. “Gwangju Middle School Girls’ Dance Duo! Seol-soo, show them our team spirit!”

Seol-soo was nearly flattened to the floor by the surprise attack. “You idiot! Let go!” she struggled. Their “team spirit” was a dark memory of being forced by a teacher to wear fuzzy bear suits and perform The Three Bears at a school festival.

“So they were just… ordinary friends back then?” Yoo-ri asked, feeding Moon-wol another snack.

Moon-wol nodded. “Clearly.”

“I hate you guys!” Ji-hyo yelled. She was about to retaliate when Ailee pushed open the door, looking mysterious and excited.

“She’s here,” Ailee whispered like a secret agent. “In Papa’s office.”

Ji-hyo sat bolt upright. “The new kid?”

Ailee nodded and gestured for them to clean up their lunch.

******

The girls stood in a tidy line as Papa Ahn entered with a girl in tow.

“You’re all here. Perfect,” Papa said. He looked energized, his beard neatly trimmed. “I’d like to introduce our newest member—and our main vocal. Hwa-sun, say hello to your sisters.”

The girl had a tiny, “palm-sized” face and a petite frame. She was undeniably pretty, though her skin was so pale it looked as if she hadn’t seen the sun in years. Her eyes were a striking amber color, framed by light brown lashes, and she had a small, round mole on her left cheek. While she didn’t have the immediate, show-stopping beauty of Seol-soo or Yoo-ri, she had a delicate, “pity-invoking” charm that was very endearing.

Hwa-sun gave a full ninety-degree bow, her Korean quite standard despite her background. “I’m very happy to meet you. Please take care of me.”

Seol-soo led the group in a return bow, then stepped forward to shake her hand. “We’re happy to meet you too. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Hwa-sun looked up, a shy blush creeping across her pale skin. “I’m… I’m sorry I’m late,” she stammered. She was much more introverted than the typical outgoing Korean-American. Her hand felt soft and slightly damp with sweat; she seemed too nervous to even look her “sisters” in the eye.

Though Seol-soo was a woman of few words, the group saw her not as cold, but as a warm, mature anchor. Seeing the new member’s anxiety, Seol-soo said gently, “You’re not late. You’re right on time.” She turned to Ji-hyo with a smile. “Ji-hyo, look at our cute new sister. We’re all so nervous we don’t even know what to say—we don’t want to startle our new Maknae.”

Ji-hyo nodded in agreement. “We’re really glad you’re here.” She nudged Moon-wol. “Didn’t you have something for her?”

Moon-wol, usually a bit of a space cadet, slapped her forehead and ran to grab a gift bag. “Seol-soo Unnie had us all prepare welcome gifts! We’re so happy to finally have a main vocal!”

Hwa-sun’s face turned even redder as she accepted the gift with a bow. “Thank you so much. And… please forgive my rudeness. I came straight from the airport, so I didn’t have time to prepare gifts for you.”

Papa Ahn laughed and patted Hwa-sun’s shoulder. “Don’t be afraid, Sun-ah. These girls aren’t stingy. They’re good people; they’ll take care of you.”

Hwa-sun clutched the gift box like a child holding a teddy bear. “Yes, Papa.”

“With a new main vocal, THEME is finally complete,” Papa said. “You’ve worked hard this morning. Get to know each other today. Seol-soo, you’re in charge of the welcome. Show Hwa-sun the company and our history, then take everyone out for a meal. The directors and I have more meetings to attend.”

“Understood,” Seol-soo replied. She turned to Hwa-sun. “I’ll take you around the departments first to meet the production and management teams, then I’ll walk you through our group’s concept and positioning. After that, we’ll all go out to eat and bond. Does that sound okay?”

“Thank you, Unnie…” Hwa-sun whispered, her amber eyes darting away shyly.

******

As Seol-soo led Hwa-sun through the building, it was clear that the leader was well-respected by everyone from the security guards to the senior producers. Though the group hadn’t “made it” yet, everyone at SPE believed that Park Seol-soo was a star in the making—a rare combination of elite visuals, solid talent, and humble character.

“Director Kim, this is THEME’s newest member and our new Maknae, Ahn Hwa-sun. Please look after my little sister.”

Hwa-sun shook hands and stammered through the pleasantries. “Ah, a future star main vocal!” Director Kim exclaimed. “I’ve heard your demos—incredible talent!”

Hwa-sun, clearly unaccustomed to social pressure, could only nod and smile awkwardly. Seol-soo smoothly stepped in to chat with the Director, easing the tension before leading her out.

Hwa-sun let out a shaky breath. “Nervous?” Seol-soo asked. “It’s a lot different from singing at home or dancing with friends, isn’t it?” Her expression was nostalgic. “I was the same. When I auditioned at fourteen, my mom was a music teacher, and I’d studied voice and dance since I was little—but when I stood in front of the producers, my limbs went stiff. I was so scared the judges would yell at me.”

“What happened? Did they?” Hwa-sun asked, starting to relax in Seol-soo’s presence.

Seol-soo laughed. “Well, I was so stiff that with the music playing, I looked hilarious. One producer slapped the table and yelled, ‘Hey kid, have you considered being a comedian instead?'” She mimicked the producer’s voice perfectly.

Hwa-sun burst into a genuine laugh, her amber eyes crinkling.

“Smiling is magic, isn’t it?” Seol-soo said. “Because they laughed, I stopped being nervous. I asked for one more chance. Usually, they’d say no, but Papa was there, and he agreed. I gave it my all that second time, and that’s how I became a trainee. So, Hwa-sun, if you feel nervous… just try to smile.”

Hwa-sun nodded, a small, trusting smile finally reaching her lips.

“See?” Seol-soo said warmly. “You have a beautiful smile.”

The girl looked at her, her eyes shy once more. “Unnie… you’re really beautiful too.”

Seol-soo chuckled. “Careful, if our Hwa-sun keeps praising me, I’m going to get a big head.”

They finished the rounds of the departments, and Seol-soo finally led her back to the practice room lockers, handing her a key. “Here—this locker is right next to mine. Papa tells me you’re quite the prodigy. Violin since you were a child, composing, and even some dance training.”

Hwa-sun looked down. “Compared to my father… I have a long way to go. He always says I’m not good enough.”

Seol-soo looked at her with a soft, knowing expression. “You’re a lot like my little sister, Hwa-sun. You care deeply about what your family thinks, don’t you?”

“Eh?” Hwa-sun looked up in surprise.

“My sister loved to sing,” Seol-soo said softly. “Whenever she learned a new song, she’d sing it for our dad. But because my mom was such a talented singer, my dad would always tell her she wasn’t good enough… it really troubled her.” She paused, sensing the girl’s internal struggle. “When your family is that talented, it’s a lot of pressure. You feel like you have to work twice as hard just to be recognized. It’s like running a marathon with no finish line. It’s exhausting, isn’t it?”

Hwa-sun nodded slowly, her heart laid bare. “Yes… it really is.”

Seol-soo squeezed her hand. “Well, things are different now. You’re our Maknae now. We’re all going to run this marathon together. And… even though this might be a bit rude to say…” Seol-soo’s eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. “If your father ever tells you you’re not good enough again, I’ll be the one to argue with him for you.” Just like I did for Seol-jung, she thought. Just like I did to protect her from that bastard…

Hwa-sun’s face lit up with a mix of fear and joy. “Thank you, Unnie.”

“Go ahead and get settled,” Seol-soo said. “I’ll go talk to Ailee about lunch. We’ll get to know each other over food, and then this afternoon, we’ll start our musical chemistry. Papa said he’s going to personally supervise the vocal training. Excited?”

Hwa-sun nodded eagerly, the prospect of her new life finally feeling real.

*******

Once Seol-soo left, Hwa-sun slumped onto the bench and let out a long, heavy sigh.

The ticket from California to Seoul had been bought in secret, with money from her uncle. Her father was still adamantly opposed; her mother, as usual, simply deferred to him, hoping Hwa-sun would become a world-class violinist and a university professor.

She looked at her hands. Years of pressing, sliding, and vibrato on steel strings had left thick calluses on her fingertips and a patch of toughened skin on her neck and shoulder. She had reached her technical limit, but her heart was full of despair. She didn’t want to compete with her father’s shadow; she wanted to sing.

To her father, pop music was a “lesser” art. He looked down on his brother—Hwa-sun’s uncle—for going into the industry. Hwa-sun had been scolded more than once for siding with her uncle.

But as she sat in this room, she could still feel the warmth of Seol-soo’s hand.

A year ago, when she first visited the company, she had seen a girl dancing through the glass wall of the studio. Tall, slender, with a smile that radiated the warmth of the morning sun. When Seol-soo danced, she was a surge of life—like a wild plant growing with proud, deep roots.

Hwa-sun had been captivated. In her world of repressed expectations, that girl was a beacon of true freedom. At that moment, Hwa-sun told her uncle: I want to be in a girl group.

She had brought only a small suitcase of clothes and daily essentials. The violin that had been her constant companion since birth was left behind. It had become a mountain she could no longer carry. Even with the awards and the “prodigy” labels, she had never once seen her father smile at her playing. He only ever said: You have a long way to go.

She had broken down in tears once, but he only called her weak, citing the lives of great composers as examples of “true” strength. She had begun to hate the very geniuses she once admired.

She didn’t know what the future held here, but remembering Seol-soo’s kindness, she felt a flicker of hope. Her uncle was right; Seol-soo was a good person.

Hwa-sun smiled and began opening her gifts. A plush toy from Yoo-ri. A hand-drawn welcome card from Moon-wol. A custom THEME woven wristband from Ji-hyo—Number 5.

And from Seol-soo: a necklace pendant, a “family” heirloom for the members.

She put the jewelry on immediately and pinned the card inside her locker. As she tucked her things away, she pulled out a bottle of medicine… her brow furrowed as she hid it in the back of the locker.

Support The CEO Forced Me to Be a Movie Queen! (GL)