Chapter 125
After the day Ayoon became the lecture hall’s Jesus Christ Superstar, she waited for “Taylored” to appear on the guest list for Music Letter. If the story that had circulated in the fan café was true, then our girl was going to appear, even if only as an accessory, on a major network’s flagship program.
‘This is seriously impossible. How can this even happen?’
Group Sound… More specifically, Ha Suyeon’s growth was progressing at a truly absurd rate.
Since Korea was ruled by idols, Ayoon tried thinking of it in terms of idols. What idol in the world could debut only one year after learning to sing and dance, crush every audition program, and appear on a major television program after another year?
If it had been less than two years, she should still have been circling the practice room or just starting to be called a promising rookie. These days, hardcore idol fans apparently even stan trainees who have yet to debut, but this was still the stage where they would dismiss someone by saying, “She still has a long way to go.”
‘That just means our girl is that much of a genius.’
After briefly pondering how to rationally explain something so “impossible,” Ayoon decided to simply conclude that her girl was that talented. Being a genius was a good thing, so what was the problem? Her girl was just that freaking awesome, and Ayoon’s eye for recognizing someone like that was just as good. That was all there was to it.
After waiting several days like that, Ayoon finally heard that Taylored would be appearing on Music Letter that week. From then on, time passed unbearably slowly. She canceled her plans with a friend and even called off her trip to her parents’ house, spending the entire week studying solemnly and continuing her constant worship until that day arrived.
Then, at 10:50 p.m. that Friday, Ayoon finally used the smart TV she had treated solely as a YouTube playback machine for its intended purpose. She switched to KBS Channel 2, arranged various foods on a tray, performed an offering ritual, took a picture, and uploaded it. She was praying that Suyeon wouldn’t be unfairly targeted.
‘Finally…!’
The age-rating notice appeared, followed by the logo. “Kim Jiyeon’s Music Letter.” The set and opening screen she had seen countless times as a child, long before she ever thought of herself as a fan, appeared. The camera swept around, briefly showing how many people had come that day, then rushed onto the stage and focused on the host.
[“Yes~ Hello. Are you all enjoying this Friday night? I’m Kim Jiyeon of Kim Jiyeon’s Music Letter. Many people have come to KBS’s Second Music Hall again today. For everyone who has given us this precious time, please give yourselves a round of self-congratulatory applause. Now~”]
Jiyeon smoothly delivered her lines and carried on with the broadcast. Ayoon wanted to shout, Forget all that and show us Taylored and our Suyeon already!! But there was no way the cry in her heart could reach the screen, so she could only endure it while Jiyeon leisurely explained the order of today’s show amid some casual chatter.
[“Now, shall we invite today’s guests? There are countless ways to describe them, but I think this one suits them best. The ‘national band’! Taylored, please come out!”]
Taylored entered to a roar of cheers. Waving the light stick in her heart, Ayoon stared at the screen. Kim Cheolyeon and the old men entered, but strangely, the guitar was never shown. All they filmed was a pair of feet plodding forward from the back. Suyeon’s face, or even her full body, never appeared at all.
“What the hell!”
I’m going to complain about this! How could they invite someone onto the show and treat her like this? Fuming, Ayoon opened Twitter. Countless—well, technically countable—comrades were already ablaze, saying they had to post complaints on the KBS Channel 2 message board.
What put out that blaze was the first song that followed. It began before any introduction, with the camera deliberately showing only below Suyeon’s neck during the bridge, a section designed for the vocalist to flaunt her technique mercilessly.
And as she watched that screen, Ayoon actually let out a sigh of relief. Since they were using a presentation designed to arouse curiosity, they weren’t going to kill her off entirely.
[“Ah! And there’s something I’ve been really curious about. Who is that person?”]
Just as she had expected, the guitarist’s face appeared as soon as Jiyeon finished her question. Her eyes had a blue tint, an unusual feature for an East Asian person, and long black hair flowed down in slight waves. Beneath it was a cold-looking beauty.
With a face that truly deserved an astonished gasp, Ayoon hurriedly filmed the TV with her phone and uploaded it to Twitter. [Our girl looks like this!!!!! ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ] Send. There was no time to edit or do anything else. She had to keep watching the broadcast.
[“She’s our guitarist. The new one.”]
“Gasp. So Yongseong quit??”
[“No, it’s not that…”]
Cheolyeon and Jiyeon continued talking. In the meantime, the camera captured a wide shot of Cheolyeon and the Taylored members. Suyeon stood among them, staring at the floor with an expressionless face. But when the questions turned to her, her face suddenly brightened.
[“Hello! I’m Ha Suyeon, the vocalist and guitarist of the band ‘Group Sound,’ and Taylored’s session guitarist!”]
“Ha Suyeon? I feel like I’ve heard that name somewhere.”
“Oh, she’s the winner of that band audition program on the station next door.”
[“The winner~? Oh… so you’re a total pro… Ah. I think I’ve heard that song. ‘Gwa-o.’”]
[“Yes. That’s righ—right. ‘Gwa-o’ is our song-ieyo.”]
[“Da-ieyo?”]
“Holy shit!”
Did this make any sense? Da-ieyo! Ayoon nearly had a heart attack, but somehow managed to endure it. And then blow after blow continued to land.
She wasn’t pretending to be cute. She was genuinely conscious of endings like “hamnida” and “seumnida,” and was desperately trying to change them into something a little more like “ieyo,” something more high-school-girl-ish. It was the kind of sight that made a hardcore otaku’s heart explode.
[Holy shㅏshㅏshㅏshㅏ]
[Is this a person? The sun? Light? A star? The world? A god? Buddha? God? Allah? Anyway, isn’t this something?]
[She’s so cute I almost punched through a wall]
[The world has already stopped because of Suyeon’s cuteness… I’m dead too, aaargh]
[Worship Ha Suyeon]
There were other things too, like how she grew gloomy and expressionless whenever it wasn’t her turn, only to brighten up again when it was, or how she had no idea where the camera was and kept talking while looking somewhere else entirely.
[“Ah, I think I’ve heard of you before. School vio—”]
[“I’m sorry!!”]
The way she kept trying to attach “yo” to her sentence endings disappeared in moments like that, when things became serious. Even when she was given a chance to explain herself, she didn’t make excuses and always said that she was reflecting on what she had done.
And when she was given a chance to show off her skills, instead of displaying an insanely flashy performance and showing herself as a “guitarist,” she played [Grey Days] by “Group Sound”…
“I didn’t do much, and I think I was able to come this far thanks to my friends, colleagues, seniors, and so many other people… Please give [Group Sound] lots of love-ieyo.”
She promoted the band, and even ended up tangling her words so badly that she no longer knew where to attach “ieyo.”
It was all simply adorable.
* * *
After the short summer vacation ended, Myeongjeon made his way through the school gate and toward the classroom, repeatedly fanning himself with his hand. Every student he passed seemed to be grinning at him for some reason. Puzzled by the strange atmosphere, Myeongjeon tilted his head and opened the classroom door.
“Oh! You’re here-da-ieyo!”
“Huh?”
The ones who welcomed Myeongjeon were students other than the trio. They had been huddled together watching a video, then suddenly came over and shouted some incomprehensible sentence ending at him.
“What are you guys doing?”
“We were watching something fun-da-ieyo.”
“Why are you talking like that?”
“I don’t know either-da-ieyo, hehehehehe.”
Deciding that he truly had no idea what was going on, he went and sat in his seat. What was thrust in front of Myeongjeon looked like a recording of a television program. It seemed to be Kim Jiyeon’s Music Letter, which he had appeared on recently.
“Has this already aired? We only filmed it recently.”
“Did you monitor it-da-ieyo?”
“Who hit you? Why are you talking like that?”
“Hahahah—heh—hahahaha, it’s so funny-da-ieyo, hehehe.”
The students around him snickered. Wondering what on earth all the fuss was about, Myeongjeon played the Music Letter video he had appeared in.
[“‘Gwa-o’ is our song-da-ieyo.”]
[“I’m handling it…-ieyo…”]
[“I think-ieyo.”]
[“Please give us lots of love-ieyo.”]
The video’s title was [The Da-ieyo High School Girl]. It contained short snippets of what he had said when he appeared on Music Letter, except they had been given a strange, stupid manner of speaking that he had absolutely no memory of using.
‘-ieyo?’
Before getting angry, Myeongjeon first tried to remember the recording. He seemed to have made an effort to soften his speech somehow in order to preserve the image of a “high school girl.” So this was…
“You’re only seeing it now-da-ieyo? Hahahaha—hahahaha—aaaah!!! It’s freaking hilarious!!!!”
“Nice to meet you-da-ieyo~ I’m Ha Suyeon-da-ieyo~ What are you up to these days-da-ieyo~ I’m in a band-da-ieyo~ The name is Group Sound-da-ieyo~”
High school girls bounced around behind him, shouting, “Da-ieyo~” Myeongjeon could only tremble while clutching his phone.
How had this happened? Me? This “Seo Myeongjeon”? Talking in some ridiculous manner like this? And what the hell was the ridiculous title, [The Da-ieyo High School Girl]? The short had over a million views?
Did that mean Koreans had so much free time that over a million people could watch something like this? No, beyond having more than a million views, how had it spread so far that every student in the school knew about it? What on earth was circulating around the internet to make something this strange happen?
If they were going to broadcast something like this, shouldn’t they at least tell the person who appeared on it? What was this? It was practically turning him into an idiot.
But Myeongjeon couldn’t even get angry. Trembling, he could only silently watch his friends behind him tease him. He vowed that next time he would practice more thoroughly and absolutely manage to portray a “modern high school girl.”
* * *
“Nice to meet you.”
“Ah~ It’s been a while.”
At the practice room of Junhong’s crew, which he was visiting again after a long time, Junhong greeted Myeongjeon as he entered through the door.
“Huh? You’re not using that way of speaking.”
Instead of answering, Myeongjeon chose silence. Junhong laughed awkwardly and looked away from the expressionless face staring at him. After pausing briefly, the conversation resumed, mostly concerning work.
“How have you been? You stopped activities for about a month. Are you starting work with Cheolyeon hyung? On a band level? A collaboration?”
“No. I only filled in because they asked me to substitute for them… The band will probably be taking a short break. Our keyboardist is preparing for entrance exams at an arts college.”
“Ah~ You’re all high school students. I keep forgetting that because of your skill. With your abilities, though, it seems like you could just kick down the door and walk into an arts college.”
“That may be how it looks from the outside, but the person involved is bound to worry.”
As they talked, Junhong and Myeongjeon exchanged updates about their lives. They discussed YouTube and [The Da-ieyo High School Girl], along with Myeongjeon’s complaints, such as, “I wanted to become known for music. I didn’t want to become known through some ridiculous video like this.”
“Anyway, fame is a good thing, isn’t it?”
“Yes… I suppose it is. Still… ah, isn’t this a bit much? What will people think I am?”
‘They’ll probably think you’re a high school girl.’
Junhong thought that, but didn’t actually say it out loud. In any case, it seemed that “Student Suyeon” had been deeply influenced by Teacher Seo Myeongjeon. He supposed this sort of thing could happen.
“Anyway, that’s why… Since we can’t really do much with the band right now, I’m thinking of appearing on YouTube and places like that to promote the band.”
“YouTube, sure. Our channel…?”
“We already appeared on it once.”
After flatly rejecting Junhong’s suggestion, Myeongjeon folded his arms. To shake off the damn image of [The Da-ieyo High School Girl], he needed to appear on a serious music channel with plenty of viewers. He could look through the proposals sent to his email, but it seemed much better to use his connections and search that way.
“It would be fine to represent Group Sound, or I could appear on my own. Is there a good channel where I could talk seriously about music and shed this ‘idiot’ image?”
At Myeongjeon’s question, Junhong seemed to ponder it as he stared at the ceiling. After enough time had passed to become slightly uncomfortable, Junhong lowered his head and answered.
“There is one channel, but… I’m not sure whether an appearance would be possible. I’m not particularly close with them either…”