Jihoon was still poring over the company report when his phone buzzed on the desk, its screen lighting up with a familiar name.
Lee Sooman.
He raised an eyebrow, half-laughing to himself.
"What a coincidence..." he muttered. "Speak of the devil—and he calls when the money smells ripe."
He picked up the phone with a slight smirk, leaning back in his chair as he answered.
"Hello… Uncle Lee!" he said playfully. "I assume you're calling me about the earnings for 'Your Name'."
On the other end, Lee Sooman gave a huff. "Eh? Has it come in already? I almost forgot, honestly. I've been swamped prepping the girls' debut—I don't have time to monitor every penny these days."
Jihoon chuckled. "Oh, I see how it is."
"SM's doing so well now that even a couple hundred million doesn't move the needle for you anymore, huh? Must be nice."
"Ya! Who told you that nonsense!" Sooman fired back, mock-offended. "No matter how small the fish, SM never turns down a good catch. Now, spill it—how much are we talking?"
Jihoon leaned forward slightly, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
"You might want to sit down for this one." He paused just long enough to build anticipation, letting the moment hang.
"So far, with global distribution tallied, we're sitting at around $150 million in box office revenue."
He let the number sink in, then added, "And according to our distribution team's forecast, we're on track to close at around $350 million."
There was a long pause on the other end.
Jihoon could almost hear something drop in the background—maybe a pen, or perhaps Sooman's composure.
He smiled faintly, already imagining the stunned expression on the old man's face.
He didn't blame him. If Jihoon hadn't already lived this outcome once in another life, he might be floored too.
After what felt like a full ten seconds of silence, Lee Sooman finally exhaled—long, slow, and deeply impressed.
"Are you serious, Jihoon-ah? You're not pulling my leg, right? This isn't something to joke about."
Jihoon laughed. "Uncle, come on. Would I lie to you about this? You'll get the full report by the next morning."
A hearty laugh erupted from the other side. "Hahahaha! Good, GOOD! Do you even realize what you've accomplished, kid?"
Jihoon nodded to himself, gaze drifting to the quiet cityscape outside his window.
"Yeah. I do." His voice was calm, steady. "From day one, I knew—it wasn't just about telling a story. It had to work. Financially, too. It's a commercial film, after all."
There was a new tone in Sooman's voice now—something between awe and admiration.
"I knew you were talented… but this? This is historic, Jihoon-ah. We've never had a Korean film hit the international stage like this. You've changed the game."
"Thank you, Uncle." Jihoon smiled. "But you know... this is just the beginning."
"Aish... Don't get too cocky now, huh?" Sooman teased, though Jihoon could hear the pride in his voice. "Still—next time we talk project shares, I get the feeling you're going to drive a much harder bargain."
Jihoon laughed again, tapping the report in front of him.
"Well… Let's just say, the table's shifted a little. I'm not just some kid looking for a shot anymore."
Jihoon leaned back in his chair, still holding the phone to his ear, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
On the other end, Lee Sooman let out a deep sigh.
"Sigh... Damn right, you're not wrong."
"And no—I'm not calling to defend myself. I know SM wasn't exactly the partner you expected during that whole mess. But you have to understand, Jihoon—we've got our own priorities too."
Jihoon didn't miss a beat and reply.
"Don't worry, Uncle Lee. I get it."
He paused, then asked another question to keep the conversation from turning awkward. "So, if this call isn't about the film earnings, then... what is it?"
"Ah! Right." Sooman cleared his throat. "I actually called about the girls' debut. You know Taeyeon and the others are set to debut this year, yeah?"
Jihoon raised a brow, smirking. He already had a feeling where this was going. But he wasn't going to make it easy.
"Yeah, I know. What's that got to do with me?"
There was a pause. A vein on Lee Sooman's temple was probably twitching.
"You know, you won't make many friends talking with that tone, Jihoon-ah."
Jihoon chuckled lightly, leaning forward just to keep stirring the pot.
"What's tone got to do with this? Just get to the point, Uncle Lee."
"If you drag it on like this, you're either gonna give yourself a heart attack or end up half-paralyzed."
"YA!" Sooman snapped. "Can't you just talk like a normal person for once?! Every time I call you, I feel my blood pressure spiking!"
"Hehe... well, that really depends," Jihoon replied cheekily.
"Depends on what, you brat?!"
"Depends on whether messing with you is enough to brighten my day. And today? It's doing such a wonder."
"YA! Enough with your bullshit!" Lee Sooman barked, though underneath the irritation, there was the familiar tone of resignation.
He knew Jihoon too well to expect anything less. "Anyway, listen. I'm calling because I want you to compose the girls' debut track. Come by SM when you're free and start working on it. They're set to debut in August."
Jihoon nearly dropped his phone.
"Wait—are you serious? I'm a film director, not some song composer! And what made you think I'd do it?"
He already knew the answer. He just didn't want to admit it.
"Because," Sooman said, with that infuriatingly smug tone of his, "if you don't do it, you'll have to face nine very disappointed girls. Girls, I might add, who've already been told you're composing their debut song."
There was a pause.
Then came the kicker.
"So really… you don't have a choice."
Jihoon stared blankly at the phone, as if Sooman's voice had just slapped him across the face. He exhaled—long, drawn-out, and utterly resigned.
"Damn it."
Because of course he was right.
Taeyeon and the rest of the girls—his so-called "friends"—had him so tightly wrapped around their fingers he might as well have been a friendship bracelet.
For the past year, Jihoon had been their snack mule, their emotional life coach, their unofficial chauffeur, and their post-rehearsal punching bag.
On top of that? He was basically a walking, breathing, top-tier Korean beef restaurant to them.
He'd lost count of how many hanwoo meals he'd paid for.
And considering Jihoon's famously stingy nature, the fact that he hadn't hurled himself off a building over the receipts was nothing short of a miracle.
If anyone ever audited Jihoon's expenses, they'd probably assume he was secretly dating the entire group.
But no. There was no grand romance, no hidden love affair—just "friendship."
The kind laced with veiled threats, expertly executed guilt trips, and enough emotional blackmail to make a seasoned politician cry.
It was the kind of friendship that had him trudging through the rain—twice—arms overloaded with twenty bags of convenience store snacks because, "Oppa, we're starving and the dorm has nothing to eat anymore."
Those were the exact words that yanked him out of his taekwondo training session at Jessica's dad's studio, just so he could help them with groceries—and, of course, pay for everything too.
Not that they ever asked outright. A few well-placed puppy-dog eyes and one perfectly timed group pout were all it took.
And the madness didn't stop there.
He was still faithfully paying what they'd coined the "Taeyeon Tax"—a monthly ritual of snack offerings, sent without fail to their dorm, regardless of typhoons, deadlines, or the occasional emotional meltdown he was having.
Rain or shine, filming or crisis, the tribute was due. Always.
Sooman knew all of this. Every detail. Which is exactly why he played that particular card with the smug confidence of a man holding a royal flush.
Because when it came to Taeyeon and the girls, Jihoon was hopeless. And everyone—including Sooman—knew it.
Jihoon pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ugh… yeah, fine. It's a proper cause." He muttered, utterly defeated. "I'll do it."
"Good!" Sooman's voice boomed with victory, like a general conquering new territory. "I knew you wouldn't let your girls down."
Jihoon leaned back in his chair, rolling his eyes but smiling despite himself. "I swear… I need better friends."
"Too late," Sooman chuckled. "You're already their unofficial tenth member. Might as well make it official and move into the dorm."
Jihoon groaned. "Don't even joke about that. I wouldn't survive living with them."
Sooman just laughed harder. "See? You love them."
Jihoon shook his head with a helpless grin. "God help me… I really do."
[Author's Note: Heartfelt thanks to Wandererlithe and Daoist098135 for bestowing the power stone!]