Chapter 317: Chapter 317
A collaboration with Rick Simon wasn’t something Ha-eun had ever really considered.
There had been a case in her past life where Rick Simon collaborated with a Korean female singer, but—
This time, both the timing and the song were different.
That song wasn’t even originally meant for a Korean female singer...
The song Ha-eun had just sung was one Rick Simon had done with another pop star.
There weren’t any articles suggesting that he had first proposed the collaboration to an Asian female singer like Ha-eun.
Thinking back on it, that pop star’s voice was rather unique.
Still, for him to approach Ha-eun—
No, Diah—with a collaboration offer was completely unexpected.
“Um, Hyun-min... what do you think about all this?”
“I think it’ll be fun. And it’s kind of refreshing hearing you sing with that kind of voice.”
What followed was Song Hyun-min saying that it suited her ears well.
He didn’t seem to be joking.
“It’s your decision in the end, but I think it wouldn’t be bad to give it a try.”
This collaboration hadn’t happened in her past life.
Even Ha-eun didn’t know if a collaboration with Rick Simon would succeed.
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t that she lacked confidence.
As a singer, Ha-eun had already made several songs succeed—songs that hadn’t existed in her past life.
She had her own pride as a singer.
But this time, it wasn’t her original voice.
This would be her first time releasing a song with a vocal that was half Ha-eun and half Diah.
There was no denying she felt a bit uncertain.
“Then how about finishing the rest of the parts first and making a decision after hearing the whole thing?”
“Ah, okay. I’ll sing all of it first.”
Ha-eun went back into the recording booth.
Then, using the “unique voice” Rick Simon requested, she recorded a demo version of the new song, covering the completed sections.
Even after she finished recording all the parts, Song Hyun-min and Rick Simon’s opinion didn’t change.
The more they listened, the more they liked it—alternating in both English and Korean.
『Yeah, Song. I told you I needed a voice this unique.』
“Rick says this could work. You should give it a shot, Ha-eun.”
“...Alright. I’ll try it.”
『Great. Let’s ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ go.』
And thus, the collaboration was set.
Ha-eun figured there had to be a reason Rick Simon and Song Hyun-min were confident it would work.
And as she kept listening to it, she started to feel like maybe it wasn’t so bad.
Then they exchanged contact information.
Through Song Hyun-min, Rick Simon said that if Ha-eun had any ideas for the new song, she could tell him anytime.
“It’s still in the middle of production, so I think you can tweak it to match your style a bit.” Read full story at 𝗇𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗅•𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾•𝗇𝖾𝗍
It was about an hour later when Ha-eun finally left Song Hyun-min’s studio.
After that, she contacted her manager, Ju Jung-yoon, and not long after, got into the van that arrived.
She brought up the collaboration with Rick Simon to the man in the driver’s seat.
“It’s not April Fool’s Day today.”
“I’m telling you, it’s real.”
He didn’t believe her.
It wasn’t until she let him hear the demo recording that Ju Jung-yoon finally accepted it as truth.
How could her manager have so little trust in her?
“If someone just randomly says they’re collaborating with Rick Simon, who would believe that?”
“Anyway, I need to tell the company too. Send the demo to Unni.”
“Wait... you want me to send the demo?”
“She needs to know what kind of vibe it has.”
Only then did Ha-eun realize she had forgotten something important.
Which is exactly why, the next day, Ha-eun was sitting with her head hanging low inside Luna Entertainment’s office building.
“Oh... this is Ha-eun’s voice?”
“I’ve never heard Ha-eun sing before.”
“Her voice really pops. It’s weirdly addictive...”
...This is torture...
Having Diah’s song play out loud in a room full of her agency staff was more than a little embarrassing.
It was half her original voice, yes—
In the end, the fact that everyone ended up supporting the collaboration with Rick Simon was, maybe, a relief.
As she heard familiar staff members say they were looking forward to it, Ha-eun’s ears flushed red.
She started wondering if this is what it felt like to be stripped naked in public.
“Rick Simon? With you?”
Early afternoon. Gocheok Sky Dome.
Ha-eun, now wearing a Sehwa Eagles uniform, was warming up while telling Da-yeon about what had happened the day before.
Today was the day of the celebrity ceremonial pitch event for Ha-eun and Da-yeon.
In about thirty minutes, they’d be standing on the vast field together, performing the pitch, so she was making Da-yeon stretch too.
“If you swing the bat wrong and throw your back out, it’s gonna be bad.”
“You think I’m some grandma?”
“You’re six hundred years old. That counts.”
The way Da-yeon suddenly pointed the bat at Ha-eun—
Was that just her imagination?
...No, it definitely wasn’t.
A silent threat aimed right at Ha-eun.
“...If you’re sorry, then take your punishment!”
Anyway, while trying to dodge Da-yeon who was seriously pretending to swing the bat, Ha-eun only stopped joking around once the catcher assigned to receive her pitch showed up.
“Hello. I’m catcher Yoo Dong-hwan.”
Maybe because he caught her goofing around with Da-yeon, Ha-eun’s ears were slightly warm.
Still, they had to practice the pitch, so she asked Yoo Dong-hwan to step back a bit as he was standing too close.
“I think you’re a bit too close right now. Could you step back a little?”
“Uh... if you go too far, it might be hard for you to throw.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I’m planning to throw it like a real game anyway.”
When Yoo Dong-hwan tilted his head in confusion and moved further back—whack!
A sharp sensation transferred through his glove and up his arm.
There wasn’t any radar gun, so they couldn’t measure the speed precisely—
But one thing was certain: it wasn’t anywhere near the speed Yoo Dong-hwan had expected.
[ Hello, this is actress Lee Ha-eun. I’m honored to throw the first pitch today for the Sehwa Eagles— ]
As Ha-eun stood at the center of the massive baseball field, holding a handheld mic and greeting the audience, she honestly felt a little nervous.
Her teammates joked from the bench that it was an honor to catch Ha-eun’s pitch, but this didn’t feel like a typical ceremonial pitch.
Then came the broadcasters’ excited commentary.
Voices narrating Ha-eun’s pitch echoed from the stadium speakers.
[ Today’s ceremonial pitcher is actress Lee Ha-eun. The batter is actress Min Da-yeon. ]
[ Wearing jersey number 99—the number of Sehwa Eagles legend Park Hyun-jin. ]
[ Oh, a southpaw. She already looks like she knows what she’s doing. ]
Just seconds later—swish.
Ha-eun’s knee lifted, and the ball left her hand like a bullet.
The sting traveled from the glove into Yoo Dong-hwan’s whole body.
[ O-oh! 140 km/h! A clean fastball! ]
[ I-I mean, seriously... was that real? ]
[ What an incredible pitch! A true victory fairy for the Sehwa Eagles! ]
Clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap—!
Ha-eun took off her cap and bowed to the audience in every direction.
Meanwhile, Da-yeon, who had been joking around with the bat, froze solid at the sight of Ha-eun’s fastball.
If that hit me, I’d... die...
Da-yeon didn’t move again until the Sehwa Eagles mascot waddled over and patted her on the shoulder with its plush costume hands.
On the giant screen above, Ha-eun’s pitch was being replayed in slow motion.
Even to Da-yeon, who knew nothing about baseball, the form looked too good to be called amateur.
But then—Ha-eun, now standing right in front of her, spoke in a teasing voice.
“Min Da-yeon, strikeout.”
Da-yeon seriously debated what to do with Ha-eun.
Was this the real reason she got invited to do this ceremonial pitch thing?
“...Why are you even an actress?”
“No, what I mean is... ugh.”
As Da-yeon shook her head, as if giving up on everything—
Far from Gocheok Sky Dome, in a certain household, the sound of cheering and clapping thundersticks filled the streaming mic.
“140 kilometers per hour! Ha-eun could totally go pro~! Why’s she so good~!”
After that, Nael watched the baseball game with her audience via a “watch together” stream.
This was because, unfortunately, she failed to get a ticket for the game Ha-eun was pitching at.
Nael wasn’t someone who usually watched baseball, but this time, she watched to the end and cheered for Ha-eun and the Sehwa Eagles.
Which is how her stream unintentionally turned into a Sehwa Eagles fan broadcast.
[ Kang Do-hwan! He swings—! ]
[ It’s flying, it’s flying, and—oh, oh...! ]
[ Home run! Home run! It’s a home run—! ]
“Oh! A home run! That means we won, right? 4 to 1?”
As Nael’s very first baseball watchalong broadcast came to a close—
“...No, I... I really didn’t expect them to make a comeback. I don’t know much about baseball...”
Nael turned on the green screen behind her virtual avatar and, in a voice that had shrunk to a whisper, apologized to the viewers in her chat.
Because, like a curse, the Sehwa Eagles—which had been leading comfortably after her victory declaration—ended up getting shockingly overtaken.