The singer who first gained recognition through Double Lee’s 10th album.
The singer who once again stood in the spotlight during the finals of a famous hip-hop competition.
The singer who performed at Gocheok Sky Dome.
"Does it even make sense that such a singer doesn’t have a proper album?"
Lee Jun’s follow-up comment—that there wasn’t anyone more unique than Pinocchio—was impossible to refute.
When you thought about it, it was strange.
The only song released under the name Pinocchio was T.R.E.N.D., a collaboration with Yoon Si-hyuk.
And even that was part of a special variety show segment on Infinite Challenge.
"Shouldn’t there be at least one song that comes to mind when people think of Pinocchio?"
"Alright, let’s listen to some demos first. Tell me if anything catches your ear."
"What? Right now?"
"Strike while the iron’s hot."
And so, swept up in Double Lee’s sudden burst of enthusiasm, Ha-eun found herself sitting on the studio sofa for what felt like an eternity, listening to demo after demo of their melodies.
Given that Ha-eun’s solo album needed to offset Lee Ye-seo’s menacing image from Veterans, the melodies she selected were mostly bright and upbeat.
"Hmm... it’d be nice to have something like a soft ballad too."
Lee Jun, considering the album’s overall balance, chimed in with a suggestion.
After all, this was a chance to create a song that showcased Ha-eun’s vocal range to its fullest.
"You know, something like strumming a guitar by the Han River, that kind of vibe—like a casual busking session."
"Um, I don’t know how to play guitar...."
"It’s just the vibe I’m talking about."
One way or another, Double Lee were seasoned artists with multiple hit songs to their name.
At the same time, they knew Pinocchio as an artist better than anyone else.
"Let’s include at least one emotional track. Sound good?"
They were confident that Ha-eun’s clear, pristine voice could produce a masterpiece.
Now that Ha-eun, who had been reluctant about her singing career for so long, was finally showing interest, they wanted to make the most of this opportunity.
The discussion eventually shifted to the album’s overall concept.
This gave Ha-eun the chance to elaborate on her role as Lee Ye-seo in Veterans and her cosmetics CF for Rêve.
"A villain? You?"
"And not just any villain—a psychopathic murderer?"
"...The articles are already out."
"I had no idea. I’ve been stuck in the studio this whole time."
Lee Jun and Lee Gun-yeol, surprised to hear about Ha-eun’s role in Veterans, seemed genuinely uninformed.
Since it wasn’t something they would’ve encountered unless they actively searched for it, Ha-eun let it slide.
Still, it was crucial to explain the image she wanted to project through this solo album.
It couldn’t contradict the elegant image Rêve’s cosmetics CF was aiming to establish.
"If the CF contract gets canceled, the penalty fees are no joke. Honestly, it’s a bit scary."
"How much are we talking?"
"It’s in the billions."
"...Yeah, I’d be scared too."
After much discussion, they decided on a concept for the album: a high school girl.
The main themes of the album would focus on the fresh, youthful emotions unique to school life—innocence and vibrancy.
The idea for Pinocchio’s first music video came soon after.
"Why not shoot it in a school uniform?"
"A school uniform?"
"Yeah. There’s nothing quite like it."
To be honest, the entire process felt like it was moving at lightning speed.
It was fascinating to see melodies and ideas pour out so effortlessly for an album that was still in its planning stages.
That’s why Ha-eun couldn’t help but ask, recalling what she’d heard a few hours earlier.
"Weren’t you guys in a slump?"
"This isn’t our album—it’s yours."
"Do you really think these old men, who’ve known you for over a decade, wouldn’t have brainstormed a single idea for this?"
Call it a side effect of their profession.
Or perhaps just vague daydreaming.
Double Lee had been sketching and imagining concepts ever since they met Ha-eun as a young girl.
It was preparation for the day the girl who visited their studio every week would grow into a full-fledged artist.
As a result, the work on Ha-eun’s first album progressed smoothly.
Thanks to the ideas they’d gradually developed over more than a decade, they didn’t have to start from scratch.
"Looks like it’ll be done around April or May."
"Huh? That’s fast."
"That’s because it’s a mini-album. If we were making it like one of our full albums, it wouldn’t be finished until fall."
Coincidentally, the release of Ha-eun’s album was set to align with Illusionary Realm’s one-year anniversary.
In other words, Pinocchio’s debut album would drop around the same time as the live concert celebrating Illusionary Realm’s first year.
‘Hmm....’
There was a significant chance that Diah’s and Pinocchio’s songs, released during the same period, might be compared.
Even though their vocal tones and styles were entirely different, you could never be too careful.
That’s why Ha-eun began refining Diah’s voice to sound even younger and more distinct.
After all, the Illusionary Realm anniversary concert was going to be a live broadcast.
And live performances were inherently unpredictable.
Unlike pre-recorded videos, everything would happen in real time, making thorough preparation essential.
Thus...
"Can we do it just one more time?"
The rehearsals for the one-year anniversary performance, scheduled every Tuesday, saw Ha-eun becoming increasingly enthusiastic.
The problem was that Ha-eun wasn’t the only one participating in these rehearsals.
The bigger issue was that none of the members of Illusionary Realm could keep up with Ha-eun’s stamina.
Perhaps that’s why...
"Ha, Ha-eun, my arms won’t move anymore...!"
"Maknae! Stop overestimating the stamina of people who spend all day streaming in their rooms!"
"She’s a demon... not a spirit, but a demon...."
"...Is this a practice room or a hospital?"
Every time Ha-eun invoked "one more time," groans echoed throughout the practice room.
But Ha-eun, unfazed, pulled out a familiar pair of sunglasses.
"Yuna-unnie is so selfish! She has no sense of teamwork!"
"If anyone here lacks teamwork, it’s probably you, Ha-eun."
"Boo-hoo~! Down with the evil instructor~!"
Thus, for the first time in a while, Ha-eun transformed into a special instructor, tirelessly drilling the other members.
The actual choreographer stood on the sidelines, simply assisting Ha-eun.
This was because Ha-eun had already perfected all the choreography.
Besides, from the instructor’s perspective, practicing hard was never a bad thing.
"Alright, alright. This is all for our Illusionary Realm fans. Let’s push through it together, everyone~."
Rather than stopping Ha-eun, the choreographer joined her in relentlessly pushing the members.
While it wasn’t as if the members were slacking off, the combined energy of the choreographer and Ha-eun was overwhelming.
Amid these days of singing in different voices at Double Lee’s studio and Illusionary Realm’s practice room...
["The 3D avatar is ready, Ha-eun. We need to test how it works, so can you stop by the company when you have time?"]
"Oh, sure. I’ll come first thing Saturday morning."
Finally, Diah’s 3D avatar was complete.
The studio for the Illusionary Realm anniversary live performance was also nearly ready.
When Saturday arrived, as promised:
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"Can you lift your arm?"
-Swoosh-
"Good. Now, take a walk around."
Ha-eun had to move around the studio like a ball-jointed doll.
During Illusionary Realm’s group trip to Japan, Ji Hye-min had discovered that Ha-eun’s physical coordination exceeded all expectations.
Unexpectedly, not only Diah’s 3D avatar but also those of the other members had to be tested.
It felt strange when another avatar, not Diah, mimicked Ha-eun’s movements.
Especially when testing the avatar of her favorite VTuber, Cream, Ha-eun felt a peculiar unease.
Though it was merely a test, the thought of "becoming one with Cream" sent tingles from her fingertips to her toes.
"Hmm...."
Even the smallest gestures were executed with utmost care.
Watching her curiously, Ji Hye-min made a request:
"I’ll play the MR. Can you perform Illusion for a bit?"
"Oh, sure."
To summarize, the 3D avatar had no noticeable issues.
No glitches occurred between Ha-eun’s movements and the avatar’s responses.
After the trial performance ended, however:
"Hey, Hye-min-unnie."
"Hmm?"
"There’s something I’ve always wanted to try with a 3D avatar. Can I do it?"
Ha-eun, still wearing Diah’s 3D avatar, made an unexpected request.
"Is it something weird?"
"No, nothing weird."
"Alright, then. Go ahead."
Watching Ha-eun in the center of the studio with a mix of curiosity and confusion, Ji Hye-min waited.
And then, mere seconds later...
-Whoosh-
Ha-eun jumped in place and executed a flawless backflip.
Ji Hye-min was left utterly speechless.
But the backflip wasn’t all Ha-eun had in mind.
-Swoosh... Whoosh!
-Thunk.
"Wait, is that... a deep bow? The avatar can do that too?"
"Y-Yeah... it’s doing it perfectly, actually...."
"Doesn’t it hurt?" Ji Hye-min asked, genuinely curious.
Still standing on her hands, Ha-eun reassured her that she was fine.
What Ha-eun hadn’t accounted for was one small detail.
-Creak.
-Step, step.
"Oh, noona. Is Ha-eun here...? Uh, uh, uh?!"
Lee Dong-jin, who had just entered the studio, quickly averted his gaze upon seeing Ha-eun.
And understandably so—because it wasn’t just Ha-eun’s body that was upside down.
"I-I’m so sorry!"
Gravity had taken full effect on Ha-eun’s T-shirt, leaving her toned abs prominently displayed.
While her pants thankfully prevented a worse disaster, her defined abs were on full display.
"...Could you please step out for a moment?"
"Y-Yes, of course!"
Ha-eun’s face turned bright red, on the verge of exploding from embarrassment.
Meanwhile, Ji Hye-min was nearly doubled over with laughter.
"If there’s ever a broadcast mishap, Diah’s abs are going to be the star of the show~."
"...That’s so mean...."