Chapter 17
Since the beginning of this week, Myeongjeon had not been feeling well. After living for several decades, Myeongjeon thought they had reached the point where they could control their emotions to some extent, but lately, that had not been the case at all.
Myeongjeon was troubled by emotions that jumped unpredictably and unpleasant feelings whose causes they could not identify, just as one could not stop one’s knees from aching on a day when it seemed likely to rain.
‘I get sunlight, take vitamins, and exercise. What on earth is wrong?’
Every morning, they woke before dawn, put on a mask, and ran three kilometers. Five sets of three pull-ups. The standard two hundred squats. They had done all of this every day as Seomyeongjeon, and the same was true as Ha Suyeon.
There were still things they had not achieved because of the physical differences between men and women, but they were continuing to work at them, so it did not matter.
‘Could I be having my period?’
Myeongjeon had that thought. Well, if they had changed from a man into a woman, they might experience menstruation too. At this age, menstruation was simply a normal function of a woman’s body.
Hmm. Then was what they were experiencing menstruation? Thinking it was nothing serious, Myeongjeon twirled a pen and stared at the female teacher lecturing enthusiastically. What was wrong with feeling a little bad? Women really were such complainers…
“Ugh.”
Suyeon slammed her head onto the desk. Bang! At the sound, every student in the class turned to look at her.
Dain panicked. Suyeon had been doing plenty of strange things since her accident, but had it really gotten so serious that she was doing this even during class? And with all the talk about teachers’ authority these days…!
“Hey, what’s wrong?!”
The face Dain hurriedly looked at was half contorted, as though its owner were dying. Surely she wasn’t…
“It’s menstrual cramps.”
After asking Suyeon several questions, the school nurse said that.
‘I knew it…’
Suyeon suffered from severe menstrual cramps, so there were days when she missed school once a month. Even if she had lost her memory, how could she not remember even the state of her own body?
“It would probably be better for you to leave school early.”
“No, um… Wouldn’t that be recorded badly in the attendance register?”
“What are you talking about? Who cares about that these days?”
Despite Dain’s words, Suyeon shook her head. For some reason, she seemed reluctant to leave early. No, she was not going to attend class anyway, so why did she refuse to leave?
“Suyeon, don’t be stubborn and leave early. You’ll feel better after resting at home. Take some medicine and cover yourself with a warm blanket.”
That was what the school nurse said. “See?” Dain scolded Suyeon, then led her to the homeroom teacher. This happened often enough that the teacher would handle everything without any trouble…
* * *
‘Was it really necessary to leave school early?’
Myeongjeon was a person from another era. A very old era, at that. To be specific, they were from a time when people went to school and work even when typhoons struck and floods swept through everything.
In one of Myeongjeon’s old memories, a female teacher had slapped a student because the girl had said her menstrual cramps were too severe and she wanted to go home.
And by Myeongjeon’s standards, sending them home like this was absurd. If you were alive, why go home? You went to school while alive and died at school when you died. Unless all your limbs were broken, of course.
‘Maybe this is why our country’s discipline has gone downhill…’
Thinking that even the dentures playing baduk in Pagoda Park would no longer put up with such things, Myeongjeon clutched their stomach and crawled home. Perhaps because they had taken a painkiller, they felt much better than before.
After washing up, Myeongjeon looked at their phone. There were countless KakaoTalk messages.
[Ppakkeuda : You okay?]
[Ji-hye : Heard you left school early because of your period?]
[Suhyeon : Get some rest.]
[Gangchae : You actually went to school while on your period? LOL]
[01010102 : Why’d you even go to school lol You should’ve just stayed home]
Friends of Ha Suyeon. Myeongjeon had been reading their KakaoTalk messages for quite some time. They replied to each one: ‘Nothing serious. I came home and washed up.’
[Seohyon ★ : I heard you weren’t feeling well today. I want to hear your voice once to see if you’re okay. Is that possible?]
[Hyeonjun : Suyeon, are you okay?]
[Park Donghwi : Why’d you go to school?;; You should’ve used menstrual leave and stayed home. Aren’t you in pain?]
Once Myeongjeon answered one of them, these people just kept sending KakaoTalk messages without giving up. After thinking about what to do with them, Myeongjeon tossed the phone onto the bed.
How should they use the time they had left?
The menstrual cramps were still there, but that did not mean they could waste all this time.
However, Myeongjeon was someone who believed routines were important. They believed that performing set actions at set times through a routine created a kind of imprinting effect. Just as working at the same time every day for thirty years would make you wake up at that hour whether you wanted to or not.
For example, on days when they had no session work or band practice, Myeongjeon ate with ‘Mom,’ then practiced with an amp from exactly eight to ten, and practiced with headphones on from ten to midnight.
After that, they woke at six in the morning, exercised, and went to school. When they returned home, they ate with Ms. Lee Hye-in, took care of various personal matters for a while—editing YouTube videos, for example—and practiced again.
According to that routine, there was not really anything to do in the middle of the day. Should they practice? Work on YouTube? But those were both part of the routine, so doing them now felt wrong.
‘Should I work on some session material…’
Myeongjeon picked up the guitar. They were currently busking for self-promotion, but busking alone was not enough. That was because busking ultimately meant playing someone else’s song. It was an act that depended on how one interpreted an already completed song.
Session work, however, meant fitting the guitar to a song that had not yet been released. Depending on how the guitar was added, the feeling of the song could change.
Therefore, busking alone could not establish whether someone was capable of session work. At most, it could have a promotional effect, as originally intended.
That was why a portfolio was necessary: material that showed what kind of person someone was, how they worked, what they had produced, and what sorts of things clients could expect from them.
“For starters, I don’t have an acoustic or nylon-string guitar…”
Myeongjeon muttered that as they picked up the guitar. An electric guitar could reproduce the tone of an acoustic or nylon-string guitar. But it could only reproduce the sound, and actually recording with it was… Well, if that was what the client wanted, there was no problem.
Myeongjeon recalled making various portfolios for online session recordings nearly ten years ago. If they had simply had finished work to show, they would not have needed to go through all this…
While recording, Myeongjeon suddenly picked up their phone again. KakaoTalk messages had piled up once more. As they replied here and there, Iseo’s message caught their eye.
[You said you left school early today. Are you feeling okay?]
[Working]
[???]
[What kind of work?]
[Putting together a session portfolio]
Quite a while passed after the little 1 disappeared. Myeongjeon watched the phone for a moment, then threw it onto the bed. Immediately afterward, the phone began to buzz.
“Hello.”
“What work are you talking about??? If you’re sick, rest.”
“Why should I rest when I have time left? I have time to work.”
“But you’re sick…”
“It’s not like my arms and legs are broken. Can I even call this being sick?”
Myeongjeon said that while playing the guitar. There was a throbbing ache, but it did not matter. Hadn’t some famous singer continued working as a musician even after being electrocuted? Of course, they had been hospitalized and had not immediately started singing after being electrocuted.
“You’ve lost your mind.”
“I’m perfectly fine. More importantly, give me your opinion on how I should promote session work so that people will take an interest. I can’t get my head around it at all.”
A powerful clean-tone guitar solo came through the phone. Because Myeongjeon was raising the tremolo arm mercilessly, the playing sounded as though it were gouging straight into Iseo’s heart.
‘Is this how she practices and works? Is that why she’s so good at guitar?’
Iseo had that thought.
In reality, it was nothing more than the kind of empty spiritualism preached by the Imperial Japanese Army during World War II, and Suyeon was good at guitar simply because an experienced guitarist had possessed the body of a high school girl.
There was no way for Iseo to know that from the reality she could see. All she could think was that Suyeon practiced a lot and had been born talented.
“First of all, what exactly is session work?”
At that, Myeongjeon explained what session work was. For example, recording guitar parts suited to a song for people who could not play guitar themselves, or doing similar work. Iseo’s voice sounded as though she was beginning to understand.
“Hmm… So you don’t know how to promote it?”
“Anything involving showing cleavage or flaunting my figure is off the table.”
Myeongjeon preemptively blocked those suggestions. Whatever else they could somehow manage, those were impossible. They were things no man could ever do.
“Then, well… I don’t know what kind of post it is, but maybe you could bait people into paying attention?”
“What’s ‘aggro’?”
Iseo fell silent for a moment. How was she supposed to explain that…?
“Anyway, it means getting people talking. For example, you could reveal that you’re a high school girl. Then people would look at the session post out of curiosity, wouldn’t they?”
“Huh?”
What kind of nonsense was that? Myeongjeon was about to say so, but Iseo continued speaking, stopping them.
“For example, you could write at the very end of the session post, ‘I can’t work after 10 p.m. I’m a high school girl, so I have to get home early.’ Wouldn’t everyone call because they were wondering whether that person was really a high school girl?”
“I don’t think so. Skill is what matters in session work, not whether you’re a high school girl.”
Myeongjeon tried to shut the conversation down firmly. It was heading in a direction they did not want. But Iseo did not seem inclined to stop at all.
“Think about it. If the price were the same, wouldn’t you naturally choose a woman—or someone who would attract attention? It would help with publicity, too.”
“And you said so yourself yesterday. A four-member all-female band has tremendous destructive power. Isn’t this similar?”
At that, Myeongjeon scratched their head.
It was true. Why else would so many rock stars be handsome? Of course, what remained for a long time was the music, but the fame that helped sustain that music could sometimes come from appearance.
“I don’t really know, but… Suppose someone had done the session guitar work on a famous song, and it turned out that person was actually a pretty high school girl about your age who also played guitar incredibly well. Wouldn’t that person become famous regardless?”
“Who knows…”
Session musicians were supposed to support a song and make it shine, not jump out and announce, ‘This is what I’m like.’ Still, Myeongjeon thought there was some merit to what Iseo had said.
That did not mean they intended to promote themselves with something like, ‘Pretty High School Girl Guitarist Available for Sessions.’
Iseo seemed to have said it without much thought, but her words struck a chord with Myeongjeon. How should they promote themselves going forward, and what kind of concept should they adopt? It was a conversation that left them with a lot to think about.