The clock blinked past 3PM when Taeyong and Johnny finally wrapped up.
Three hours had flown by in what felt like minutes. Her notepad was full of scribbled timestamps, layered ideas, and lyric punch-ups that Taeyong had highlighted for the next session. Lexie stood to bow politely as they gathered their things - Johnny sending her a wink, Taeyong thanking her with a sincere, "You're the kind of spark we needed."
As they disappeared down the hall for their next schedule, a weird kind of quiet settled. A post-adrenaline silence, like she just got off a fast ride and was still catching her breath.
That's when her phone buzzed.
Eunjae 🌼 eonni:
You done now?
I passed by earlier but saw you were with the big boys 😏
L:EXIE:
Yup, just wrapped up. Free.
Five minutes later, her studio door swung open - not just Eunjae, but Junny and Hyungwoo followed behind like they owned the place.
"Surpriiise!" Eunjae grinned, holding up a small cake box.
Junny plopped down dramatically on her lounge chair, pointing. "Word is, we're celebrating our resident baby prodigy's first official day."
"I-What?" Lexie blinked. "Thank you guys, but you didn't have to-"
"We did," Hyungwoo said, already opening the mini-fridge to chill the drinks he brought. "Also, Junny said you're treating us to dinner."
Junny raised both brows. "Don't worry, we kept it cheap. Cafeteria."
Lexie burst out laughing. "I should've stayed silent."
Still, she didn't argue. Her cheeks hurt from smiling too much.
They ended up in a corner of the company cafeteria, huddled around a tray of bulgogi rice bowls, fried chicken, and strawberry milk Hyungwoo insisted on getting "for nostalgia."
"By the way," Eunjae said, mid-bite, "you've made quite the impression. The interns downstairs were whispering about you earlier. Something about you catching up with Johnny's timing and Taeyong asking you about vocal layering."
Junny nodded in agreement. "And someone in the A&R team shared the raw take from the booth with me. Girl, your mix was so clean I thought it was a final cut."
Lexie blinked. "Wait-they shared that?"
"Confidentially," Junny winked. "But word travels."
"I just did what I thought fit the tone," Lexie muttered, poking her rice.
"And that's exactly why they're talking about you," Hyungwoo said. "You're not just adjusting to the system. You're in it already."
Later that afternoon, they returned to her studio, buzzing with the kind of chaotic energy only close friends bring.
Junny started beatboxing for fun. Eunjae chimed in with a soft hum. Lexie playfully hit a few keys to match their tone - and suddenly a real groove was forming.
"Okay, that's actually good," Junny said, surprised, as he paused his beatboxing mid-loop. "Lexie, you wanna jump in?"
Lexie was lounging with one leg tucked under her, sipping the leftover iced Americano she stole from Junny. She rolled toward the keyboard, tapped a few keys, then with a playful smirk, said, "Gimme a sec."
Ten minutes later, she had layered a synth pad, added percussive glitches, and subtly filtered in Junny's beatbox under a harmonic vocal stack Eunjae started humming.
"What the-" Hyungwoo sat up, blinking. "That was fast."
"It's just a loop," Lexie said, bashful.
"It's a vibe," Eunjae said, standing. "Can we send this to Minho oppa? He's been asking for something like this all week."
They ended up bouncing the file and naming it "justvibes_day1.wav."
Before they left, Hyungwoo lingered by the studio door.
"By the way... Taehan-hyung mentioned you earlier," he said casually. "And so did one of the creative directors. You're already in the radar."
Lexie sat back, eyes wide. "I've only been here a day."
"Exactly." He pointed at her. "Keep doing whatever this is."
When they left, she finally sat in the silence, fingers still hovering above the keyboard. She looked around - her booth, her gear, her workspace - and quietly exhaled.
Her session files neatly backed up and studio lights dimmed to a low hum, Lexie took a moment to breathe. Her fingers hovered above her phone.
📞Calling: Park Kyungmin
"Lexie?" Kyungmin's voice came through, casual but attentive. "All good?"
"Hey, yes-uh, I finished up the session with Taeyong and Johnny. I was wondering... do I have any other scheduled projects this week?"
There was a brief silence as Kyungmin shuffled something on his end.
"Let's see. Nothing major until Friday-but since you asked, I've got a few optional ones you could cover. Some arrangement polishing for a vocal unit under RIIZE, background scoring for a dance teaser trailer, and-oh, the early production prep for NCT 127's upcoming comeback. Mostly beat screening and concept refinement."
Lexie blinked. "Wait, NCT 127?"
"Yeah," Kyungmin chuckled. "It's just prep work for now. But if you can finalize some demos early, that'd be great-helps the boys get whatever rest they can. It's up to you."
A small smile tugged at her lips. "...Can I also pitch demos for other groups? Even if I'm not directly assigned?"
"You mean like proactively?"
"Yeah. Just curious. If I make something that fits, can I pass it on? Even if it's not for a current project."
There was a beat before Kyungmin replied, something softer in his tone this time.
"That's exactly the kind of producer SM keeps," he said. "Not just assigned talent-but creators. Pioneers. You've got something, Lexie. If you feel inspired, send it. They'll listen."
It settled warmly in her chest. Not pressure-just potential.
Just keep showing up.
That night, instead of heading straight home, Lexie found herself in one of the smaller observation rooms on the fourth floor. The glass wall looked down into a wide rehearsal studio-mirrors on one side, floor tape marking formations, a few scattered folding chairs along the perimeter.
It was the monthly trainee evaluation.
She hadn't planned on staying. But when Kyungmin casually mentioned it during their call, something tugged at her curiosity.
See what kind of drive they're bringing in, he had said. It might give you ideas. Might even spark something.
The room was dim except for the glow of the studio lights below. A few other staff members came and went-coaches, managers, a couple A&Rs. But Lexie stayed quiet in the corner, eyes focused, ears tuned to every missed beat and moment of potential.
With her journal, she noted who needed vocal breath support, whose harmony instinct was clean but underutilized, whose expression didn't match the rhythm. She wasn't even judging-just absorbing. Learning. Adjusting her ears again.
Because being a producer didn't just mean working with the big names.
It meant watching the sparks before they became stars.
One boy, no older than sixteen, had a rawness in his tone that made her scribble on her notepad. Another had great control, but lacked intention behind his delivery. She noted them both.
And then, midway through a particularly passionate vocal performance, a thought struck her-and she leaned forward.
What if the right arrangement could bring that tone forward?
What if the melody shifted key just slightly?
By the end of the hour, she had three new ideas. None of them planned. None of them scheduled. Just... sparked.
She stood to leave, her mind buzzing-not just with what she saw, but with the reality of it all.
This-this-was the kind of room she never imagined being in. Not as a K-pop fan. And not even as a songwriter.
But here she was. Trusted, encouraged, invited to shape what came next.
As she walked toward the elevator, a trainee bowed as he passed her in the hallway. Another whispered her name like they weren't sure if they should say it out loud.
Lexie... that's Lexie, right? The new producer?
She didn't look back.
She just smiled to herself, quietly-
* * *
The building had quieted.
The fluorescent buzz in the halls dimmed beneath the hum of night routines-interns filing out, studio lights clicking off, passing conversations fading into background hush.
Lexie stayed behind.
She hadn't planned to, but her feet led her back to her studio like muscle memory. The moment she walked in, the quiet wrapped around her like a soft coat. She dropped her bag beside the chair, the dim glow of her laptop casting a familiar blue hue across the room.
Still fresh from the trainee evaluations, her thoughts hadn't slowed down.
Their eyes. Their nervous energy. The way one girl gripped her mic so tightly her knuckles paled. And yet she hit every note. Unpolished, but there.
Potential, Lexie thought. Potential everywhere.
She clicked open her DAW.
One new demo. Two maybe. She had already outlined them in her head on the way down.
"Intro's too heavy. Shift the bass lighter here..." she murmured, adjusting layers without hesitation.
It was past ten when she finally leaned back in her chair, not out of exhaustion-but fulfillment. The kind that sits warm in your chest.
Just then, her phone lit up.
Park Kyungmin:
You always stay this late?
L:EXIE:
Not always.
Just when things feel like they're starting to make sense.
Park Kyungmin:
I told the higher-ups about what you asked.
They're open to letting you pitch across teams.
Keep submitting. We'll route them properly.
Her breath caught slightly-they're open to letting you pitch across teams.
She wasn't even assigned yet, but the door was cracked open. Enough to step through.
L:EXIE:
Thanks, Kyungmin.
I'll do my best to be worth the trust.
Park Kyungmin:
You already are.
They're calling you SM's prodigy for a reason.
Lexie blinked at the screen. No emojis. No sarcasm. Just a quiet fact from someone who didn't throw praise loosely.
She stared at the empty track in front of her. Her fingers hovered over the keys again.
And just like that-
She hit record.