The next morning, Byul-ho took a deep breath and dialed the number on the worn business card. After a few rings, a familiar voice answered.
"Park Ji-won speaking."
"Uncle Ji-won? It's Byul-ho."
There was a moment of stunned silence before Ji-won's voice came back, filled with a mix of surprise and concern. "Byul-ho? My goodness, it's been so long. I... I'm so sorry about your parents. And I'm sorry I haven't reached out. I should have—"
"It's okay, Uncle," Byul-ho interrupted gently. "I understand. I'm doing fine."
"That's... that's good to hear," Ji-won said, his relief palpable even through the phone. "So, what can I do for you, Byul-ho?"
Byul-ho steeled himself. "Actually, Uncle, I was hoping to ask for a favor. It's about your company, the record label."
"Oh?" Ji-won's curiosity was evident.
"I've started my own entertainment agency," Byul-ho explained, his voice steady. "We've formed a boy group, and we're looking for a partnership for physical distribution of our songs. I was hoping your label might be interested."
The line went quiet for a moment. When Ji-won spoke again, his tone was a mixture of surprise and skepticism. "You've started an agency? And formed a group? Byul-ho, that's... quite an undertaking. How long have you been working on this?"
Byul-ho recounted the past months, explaining how he'd scouted talent, trained the members, and recorded their first EP. As he spoke, he could almost hear Ji-won's eyebrows raising.
"I see," Ji-won said when Byul-ho finished. His voice had taken on a more serious tone. "Byul-ho, I need to be honest with you. The entertainment industry is incredibly competitive and often unforgiving. It's not an easy path, especially for someone your age."
"I understand that, Uncle," Byul-ho replied, his determination evident in his voice. "But I believe in my group. All I'm asking is for a chance to show you what we can do."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Finally, Ji-won sighed. "Alright, Byul-ho. I can't promise anything, but I'll set up a meeting. You can present your group to our A&R team. But remember, this industry can be brutal. Are you sure you're ready for this?"
Byul-ho smiled, thinking of Ascend. "I'm ready, Uncle. Thank you for this opportunity. We won't let you down."
Byul-ho hung up the call, a smile playing on his lips. He was grateful that his uncle, an executive at SM Entertainment - one of the most established record labels in South Korea as of 2008 - had agreed to give him a chance.
The next day arrived quickly. Byul-ho, dressed sharply in a tailored suit that made him look older than his years, strode into the imposing SM Entertainment building. The receptionist directed him to a conference room where the A&R team awaited.
As he entered, Byul-ho's heart raced, but his exterior remained calm. He shook hands with each team member, meeting their skeptical gazes with confidence.
"Thank you for meeting with me," Byul-ho said, his voice steady. "I'd like to introduce you to Ascend."
He pulled out a sleek laptop and opened it, revealing a professionally designed presentation. With a click, the room filled with the opening notes of Ascend's title track.
The A&R team leaned in, their expressions neutral as they listened. Jae-sung's powerful vocals soared through the speakers, followed by Sung-ho's sharp rap. As the chorus hit, Byul-ho noticed a few heads nodding unconsciously to the beat.
They listened to all four tracks in silence. When the final notes faded, Byul-ho closed the laptop and looked at the team expectantly.
The head of A&R, a man in his fifties, leaned back in his chair. "I have to admit, that was... unexpected," he said, a note of surprise in his voice. "The production quality is impressive for an independent label, and the sound is fresh. But the market is saturated. What makes Ascend different?"
Byul-ho took a deep breath. This was his moment. "Ascend isn't just another idol group," he began. "They represent a new wave in K-pop. Our sound blends traditional pop songs with innovative production techniques and meaningful lyrics. We're not just aiming for catchy hooks; we're creating music that resonates on a deeper level."
He paused, gauging the room. Some nodded appreciatively, while others remained skeptical.
A woman in her forties leaned forward. "That sounds ambitious, but how do you plan to maintain consistency in quality?"
Byul-ho smiled confidently. "Excellent question. Ascend has members skilled in composition and songwriting. They contribute creatively to the music, ensuring a unique and authentic sound. As my company grows, I plan to hire producers and songwriters to further elevate our work. Additionally," he added with a hint of pride, "I have some experience in production myself."
This last statement drew doubtful looks from some team members. Byul-ho could almost hear their thoughts - a teenager claiming production skills? But he knew his knowledge from his past life gave him insights they couldn't fathom.
Another team member, a man in his fifties, spoke up. "Your vision is... expansive. But the industry is brutal. How can you, at your age, navigate these challenges?"
Byul-ho met the man's gaze steadily. "Age doesn't dictate vision or capability. I've studied this industry extensively. I understand its challenges, but I also see opportunities others might miss."
He could see the doubt in some eyes, the hesitation to take seriously a CEO barely out of high school.
***
Byul-ho left the conference room, his laptop tucked under his arm. The silence that followed him out was deafening, leaving him unsure of the team's response to his presentation.
He waited anxiously in the lobby, time seeming to stretch endlessly. Finally, his phone buzzed - it was Ji-won.
"Uncle," Byul-ho answered, his voice tense.
"Byul-ho," Ji-won began, his tone measured. "The team had... mixed reactions. They have doubts, primarily due to your age and inexperience."
Byul-ho's heart sank, but Ji-won continued, "However, they've decided to give you a chance. They were impressed by the quality of the music."
A wave of relief washed over Byul-ho. "Thank you, Uncle. I won't let you down."
Over the next few days, Byul-ho found himself navigating a maze of paperwork and negotiations. As he pored over the contract offered by SM Entertainment, his eyes narrowed.
The terms were far from favorable - low royalty rates, restrictive clauses, and minimal marketing commitments.
During a meeting with an SM representative, a middle-aged man with a condescending smile, Byul-ho pointed out these issues.
The representative's smile tightened. "Now, now, young man. You should be grateful we're even considering your little group. This is standard for new, unproven acts."
Byul-ho gritted his teeth, his hands clenching under the table. Drawing on his knowledge from his past life, he knew these terms were exploitative, even by 2009 standards.
"With all due respect," Byul-ho said, his voice calm despite his inner turmoil, "I believe Ascend deserves better terms. Their potential warrants a more equitable agreement."
The representative's eyebrows shot up, clearly not expecting pushback from someone so young. "And what makes you think you're in a position to negotiate?"
Byul-ho leaned forward, his eyes steely. "Because I know the value of what I'm offering. Ascend isn't just another rookie group. I'm not asking for preferential treatment, just a fair deal that reflects their potential."
A tense silence fell over the room. Byul-ho could see the wheels turning in the representative's mind, reassessing the young CEO before him.
Finally, the man spoke, his tone grudgingly respectful. "I'll speak with the team about... adjusting some terms. But don't push your luck, kid."
***
Three days passed, filled with tense negotiations and heated phone calls. Byul-ho spent sleepless nights poring over contract law, drawing on both his current knowledge and memories from his past life to argue his case.
On the fourth day, SM Entertainment presented a revised contract. Byul-ho read through it carefully, his brow furrowed in concentration. The terms were better - not ideal, but a significant improvement from the initial offer.
The royalty rates had been bumped up by two percentage points. The marketing commitments, while still modest, now included guaranteed radio play and a minimum budget for music video production. The restrictive clauses had been loosened, allowing Ascend more creative control over their music and image.
Byul-ho knew he couldn't push for more without risking the entire deal. His company was new, untested in the market. Ascend, despite their potential, were still rookies. This contract, while not perfect, was fair enough for a starting point.