The flowerbed - Aespa's Giselle x M!Reader

The roots close, colors blend (Part 3)

The screening room at SM headquarters always felt smaller when it was full of executives. Today, with the final cut of "Whiplash" about to play, it felt particularly cramped. I sat in the back row, trying not to fidget as the members filed in with their usual grace. Giselle caught my eye briefly before taking her seat, and I found myself thinking about that hug in the studio three days ago.

The lights dimmed, and the opening shot filled the screen – Winter in silhouette, the new darker concept immediately apparent. Then Karina's voice cut through the darkness, followed by the complex harmonies we'd scrambled to re-record. My breath caught as Giselle's rap verse kicked in, her lower register perfectly controlled, the raw edge of strain transformed into intentional power. The emergency solution had become the song's signature sound-

"Stop." Executive Director Jung's voice cut through the playback just as the bridge was building. The lights came up, and I could see the members tense. "The vocal mixing in the second verse – it's not working. The harmonies are messy, unconventional. And Giselle-ssi's tone..." He shook his head. "This isn't the aespa sound we've built our brand on."

I watched Giselle's shoulders stiffen slightly. Next to her, Winter shifted protectively closer.

"We'll need to re-record," Jung continued, making notes on his tablet. "Start fresh, stick to our usual formula. The comeback's too important to take risks—"

"Actually," I heard myself say, then realized I'd stood up. Every head in the room turned toward me. "Sir, with respect, I disagree."

Jung's eyebrows shot up. Several other executives exchanged glances. In the front row, Karina sat up straighter.

"Oh?" Jung's tone was dangerous. "You disagree with my fifteen years of production experience?"

"No, sir. I disagree with changing something that isn't broken." I moved to the front of the room, heart pounding but voice steady. "The unconventional elements aren't mistakes – they're evolution."

"Evolution?" Jung scoffed. "That rough edge in Giselle's rap, the strange harmonic choices—"

"Show maturity," I interrupted, earning a sharp look. "Sorry, sir, but... please. Listen again." I gestured for the technician to replay the section." The way Winter and Ningning's harmonies interweave here – that's not messy, that's masterful control. Karina's transitions show incredible technique. And Giselle's tone..." I glanced at her, drawing strength from her intense gaze. "That edge you're hearing? That's not a flaw. That's an artist who knows exactly what her voice can do."

"It's different—" Jung started.

"It's supposed to be different!" My voice came out louder than intended, probably from irritation of these executive not understanding the girls's vision, but I quickly controlled it. "Sir, you've always said aespa represents the future. But if we keep them locked into the same sound they had as rookies, what kind of future is that?"

The silence in the room was deafening. I could feel the weight of every executive's stare. They were flicking between Jung and me, not able to get a word through the heavy and tense atmosphere in the room.

"You're very passionate about this," Jung observed coldly. "Perhaps too passionate for a manager."

"I'm passionate about doing right by these artists," I replied, keeping my voice level despite my racing heart. "Three months ago, during Armageddon promotions, we pushed them to maintain an image they'd outgrown, and we nearly lost Winter to exhaustion. Now they've found a sound that challenges them without breaking them, that shows their growth while honoring their foundation." I took a breath. "If we make them re-record this to sound like their debut songs, we're not protecting the brand. We're stifling it."