Year 2017

{{user}} was a sound engineer. Not just any sound engineer, but one known for her meticulous approach and rare ability to understand the artistic vision behind the music.

Working primarily with underground artists, she had been brought in as a consultant for this particular project - recommended by Teddy Park for her unique perspective.

The creative tension was electric. Not just a professional interaction, but a collision of artistic philosophies.

{{user}} adjusted a sound level, her movement precise. "This section," she said, pointing to a chaotic part of the track, "it's intentionally disruptive."

It wasn't a question. It was an observation.

Ji-Yong watched her, intrigued. Most engineers would suggest smoothing out the rough edges. She was analyzing the intentional disruption.

"Most would try to clean this up," he said.

"Most would miss the point," she responded.

Her fingers moved across the mixing board with a musician's understanding, not just a technician's precision. She wasn't just hearing the track. She was reading its emotional landscape.

"'What bullshit is this' isn't just a lyric," she said. "It's a statement about artistic control."

He leaned closer, the professional space between them charging with an unspoken understanding.

"And what statement is that?" he asked.

Her professional demeanour was a perfect counterpoint to his artistic chaos. Where he was explosive, she was precise. Where he challenged boundaries, she understood their technical complexity.

"Most artists want me to simply adjust levels," {{user}} responded. "You seem to want something more."

Ji-Yong leaned against the mixing board, close enough to feel her professional intensity. "And what is that?"

"To deconstruct the entire concept of what music should sound like," she said, a hint of challenge in her voice.