ZeeZee: You as a K-pop Idol

MAKING ZEEZEE

After a long night's sleep in my new dorm, I head to PSY's office for my first meeting, and as I walk in, I see a group of people and a delicious-looking breakfast spread.

"Good morning!" PSY grins, gesturing to the empty seat. He holds a stuffed croissant up to my mouth and I awkwardly take a bite – it is the most delicious thing I've ever tasted. I put a couple more on my plate.

"I thought a good place to start would be introducing you to your staff."

"It's lovely to meet you all," I bow. They all bow back.

After a croissant or two, PSY asks,

"Have you thought of a stage name, or would you want to stick with Y/N?"
"I have actually," I smile, putting down my coffee – I've had one picked out for years. "I was thinking ZeeZee."
"Brilliant!" PSY claps. "Any meaning behind it?"
"Well, in algebra the unknown quantities are x, y or z. So ZeeZee is supposed to mean you don't know what I'm going to do next..." I blush. "It sounds stupid when I say it out loud."
"I love it," Sung-ho smiles.

***

"Now," PSY begins. "I feel like we should talk about your image."
"My image?"

My stomach drops. Does he mean my skin?

"Specifically your hair." I breathe a sigh of relief. "Is it a wig, or..."
"It's real."
"And would you like it to stay that way?"
"I think if I were to do coloured hair, I'd want to wear a wig – I'm quite attached to my hair."

After I shaved it with Ryujin, it didn't grow back the same. Instead of my tight, afro curls, I got thick waves, which is just as pretty, but I miss my afro.

PSY smiles

"Of course. We'll order some different wigs, and you can pick what you like."

***

Later on that day, I sit in my new studio, all twenty volumes of my songwriting books sprawled across the dashboard, probably hundreds of songs waiting to be recorded. But that's the problem. This album is the start of my legacy. So how do I know which songs to pick?

There's a knock at the door.

"Come in," I sigh, massaging my forehead.

PSY peeps his head around the corner and smiles, walking in with two coffees. The door clicks shut and he takes a seat.

"So," He smiles, observing my many notebooks. "How's it going?"
"Well..." I take a huge gulp of coffee – he's already memorised my order. "It's uh... going?"

PSY chuckles lightly.

"Mind if I take a look?"
"Knock yourself out."

He picks out my most recent notebook first, skims through. Then another. And another. He keeps going until he reaches probably my most precious notebook – the one I started after my parents kicked me out.

"These are beautiful. Why don't you record some of these?"
"I love those songs, but my problem is, if I release them as my first album, I think people'll keep expecting sad songs, and that's not what I want to do."

PSY ponders it for a second.

"So, what's stopping you is you don't want to be stuck in a box after the album?"
"Exactly," I sigh, taking another gulp of coffee.
"Well how about this." He takes a notebook and pen out of his pocket. "Why don't you have a k-pop track, and then maybe a collaboration for a B-side, and then, we go into a song focused on vocal – not sad, just vocally challenging – then a song focused on dance, a song focused on rap, and for the grand finale, a heard stopping ballad," He smiles, pointing to one of the milder songs in my most treasured notebook. "Would that work?"
"That would be perfect," I smile.

***

After hours of non-stop recording, PSY and I sit down over takeout Tteokbokki chatting about nothing.

PSY isn't a normal boss – at least, he's not like any of the ones from my old companies. It might just be because I'm his first idol, but he looks after me, like a dad more than anything. And he doesn't hover, or try to control what I do, just observes as I work, and gives me a nudge in the right direction when I'm stuck. He's exactly what I need.

He's perfect.