Chapter 23
The fiercely ringing guitar cuts off all at once. The vast reverb echoes through the room, and the drums that had been roaring alongside it finish with a resounding boom!
Silence descends on the practice room.
Myeongjeon tucked the worn-out pick into the neck, then began clapping slowly.
“Good work.”
At Myeongjeon’s words, the three of them let out long breaths, their faces filled with relief. They were expressions Myeongjeon had often seen back when they were ‘Seo Myeongjeon’ and ran a band.
They had heard complaints about how brutally they were being pushed, even pleas asking if they could please stop practicing. Some had even raged that their joints were all ruined from practicing and they would not be able to play the actual performance.
Of course, every bit of that was nonsense. Hadn’t some baseball manager once said that shoulders grew stronger the more they were used? Wrists were the same. Just as the earth hardens after the rain, one’s skills improve after intense playing and practice.
Back in my day, I wore sandbags or attached springs to my fingers and played guitar or drums to build up my wrist strength, but kids these days are so fragile… How will they ever manage? Tsk, tsk.
“Is it finally over?”
“Mm. Our practice-room rental time is up now, too. We could go on for another day or two, but I don’t think it’ll get any better here.”
When Myeongjeon answered Iseo’s question that way, an unmistakable sigh of relief escaped. At that sigh, Myeongjeon looked at Iseo with one eyebrow furrowed.
“Do you hate practicing that much?”
“…Th-that’s not it, but isn’t this a little too much…?”
“It is.”
As Iseo’s voice grew increasingly feeble, Seoha voiced her agreement.
Suyeon was one year younger than her, yet possessed skill beyond imagination. It was easy enough to assume that her practice regimen would be equally unimaginable, but…
This was far too much, no matter how you looked at it.
With the performance approaching, they had rehearsed together for an entire week simply because they weren’t reaching the quality she wanted. Throughout every rehearsal, she had thrown out barbed remarks like, “Why can’t you do this?” and “Why did you get that wrong? Do you not have hands?”
On top of that, the two of them—excluding Seoha, who couldn’t practice alone at home—had apparently been assigned practice homework that could only be completed by staying up all night, even after practicing at the rehearsal room.
“But it’s because you practiced that hard that you’re able to perform after only a month and a half.”
At first, they had been a complete mess. The kids had been too busy simply playing to keep the rhythm properly. The drummer would charge ahead alone, the bass had no sense of rhythm, and the piano could not even be heard.
But now, things were different. They had become capable of ‘rehearsing together.’
They probably knew it best themselves: the selves they had been before practicing and the selves they were afterward were on entirely different qualitative levels.
They had truly worked hard all this time,
and they deserved to receive ample reward for it.
Despite the tight deadline of a month and a half, they had somehow managed to become capable of performing, at least to some degree.
They had raised their skill to the point where they could show it to other people.
“Anyway… you’ve all worked hard. If you told people who had never even been in a band that you became capable of rehearsing three songs in a month and a half, everyone who did school bands or office-worker bands would probably tell you to stop lying.”
The three laughed at that. But it was true. Apparently, it usually took school bands and office-worker bands about six months to a year to go from rehearsing to being able to perform.
“Nothing will go wrong on festival day, right?”
“Something could go wrong, obviously.”
Someone could get into a traffic accident on the way over. A guitar string could snap, leaving them unable to play the solo they had planned. Things like that could happen.
Iseo turned slightly pale at Myeongjeon’s words. But Myeongjeon paid her no attention and continued.
“But nothing will go wrong, and even if something does, it’ll be okay. You’ve all worked hard.”
Myeongjeon thought that was certainly how it would be.
* * *
‘I’m nervous.’
In a corner of the classroom, where the students had gathered to work on something among themselves, Hyeona rubbed her hands together while fidgeting and killing time under the pretense of carrying out her assigned role.
She had submitted her application to take part in the performance that would be held in the auditorium that afternoon at the festival long ago, and now she could not even cancel it.
‘Actually, Somat-nim is probably more nervous than I am…’
She had joined as a substitute rhythm guitarist, so apart from a few rearranged sections, there was nothing particularly difficult for her.
In the original, the rhythm guitarist had also handled the vocals, so that part might have been somewhat difficult. But at this performance, Suyeon was also handling the vocals. There was no reason for her to feel pressured.
The one who would actually be nervous and have a hard time was… Somat-nim—Iseo, who had practiced bass until her fingers bled while Suyeon continued yelling at her right up until the end.
[I’ve arrived. Where should I go?]
[Wait a moment, I’ll come out shortly.]
After checking KakaoTalk, she furtively gauged the mood of the class. For now, it seemed no one was paying attention to her.
All she had to do now was wait for the right moment to leave… but it was proving unexpectedly difficult.
‘Wait, why is this so difficult?’
Couldn’t she just say she was leaving because she had a band performance? Did she really need to worry about what everyone thought? It wasn’t as though she had done anything wrong to these kids.
The old Hyeona would never have entertained such a thought. But Suyeon’s hellish training had distorted and twisted Hyeona’s timid, feeble nature.
Just as the personality of someone who returned from the dead changed from what it had been before, she had developed an attitude like, ‘After going through all that, what’s stopping me from saying one little thing?’
“Seong Hyeona.”
“Huh?”
“I have a performance to attend, so… Can I leave for a bit?”
Hyeona rose from her seat and declared this to the student responsible for odd jobs. There was a forcefulness the old Hyeona had never possessed.
“Uh?? Oh… wh-what are you getting ready for?”
“A band performance.”
Hyeona’s words sent a slight ripple through the classroom, which had gone blank for a moment. A band? She’s in a band? Didn’t she play piano? More importantly, who is she? She’s in a band? Was she a musician?—those were the sorts of comments that went around.
“Can I go?”
“Y-yeah… Go ahead.”
“Thanks.”
Hyeona answered that way and left the classroom. Feeling the classroom grow noisy the moment she stepped out, she kept walking… and thought about what would happen after today’s performance.
‘What will happen after the band performance? How will the kids treat me?’
When she thought about that… she was still a little afraid. Would this peaceful reality she had now be torn apart? Would this incident send things down an increasingly bad path? Would her everyday life change?
Change would undoubtedly come.
But was change a bad thing? When she thought about it, this was hardly a particularly good everyday life to begin with. There wasn’t much farther down it could fall, so why was she trembling in fear that things would somehow get worse?
“Unnie!”
She arrived at the main gate while thinking that. A teacher stood guard at the school gate, with the three familiar people in front of it.
“Teacher, these kids are friends from another school who agreed to help me with my performance today…”
“A performance?”
“Yes. We have a band performance today.”
“Hmm…”
The teacher unfolded the pamphlet, pointed to their band’s name, and asked, “Is this it?” When she nodded, the teacher asked for their identification and let them in.
“They’re really strict with the checks.”
“The world’s been so suspicious lately.”
Seoha grumbled. Iseo laughed, “Ahahaha,” and patted Seoha reassuringly. Hyeona, meanwhile, silently walked beside Suyeon.
The sight of uniforms that did not belong in this school mercilessly drew the eyes of everyone around them. The face of the person leading the group also played a part. Voices rang out: “Ha Suyeon?” “Why is she here…?” “Is that a guitar?”
“A lot of people seem to recognize you.”
“Of course. Think about what you’ve done…”
“Even if you say that, I don’t remember any of it. I’d need to know what I did before I could say anything.”
Suyeon said this while calmly letting countless gazes wash over her. Even at Iseo’s reproach, her expression showed no concern whatsoever.
* * *
Myeongjeon stood with arms folded, looking straight ahead.
Kids in outfits they had somehow put together to match the latest K-pop songs danced while pretending to be sultry, and the audience responded to them.
Was this a high school festival?
Back when he attended high school, there had been no such thing as festivals. It had been an era when a student’s duty was to study, and doing anything else simply earned them a beating… When had the world advanced enough for students to enjoy this kind of cultural life?
‘The world has come a long way… More importantly, reactions like that are obviously much better.’
It was their first performance, but Myeongjeon did not expect much. Three people from another school, performing three Japanese songs no one knew. The only thing worth watching would probably be the guitar solos he played.
But what about the other three kids?
Wouldn’t they be disappointed by the cold response?
Despite enduring training like hell, would they give up music after showing their disappointment at an audience that did not cheer for them?
‘Well, even if that happens, it might be okay.’
They might grit their teeth and work even harder, or they might decide to quit the band. Either way was fine. He only had to make his own music…
Still, it would be better if they didn’t quit. He didn’t want to be in a mixed-gender band.
‘Why are there so many people?’
Unlike Myeongjeon, who stood there without the slightest change in expression, Iseo looked like she was about to die. In just a few minutes, she would have to perform in front of all those people. Her first performance ever.
‘Is she not nervous?’
It had to be her first time, too.
Wondering whether only Suyeon’s expression remained unchanged while the rest of her was trembling, Iseo inspected various parts of her body. Fingers: no problem. Ears: no problem. Legs: no problem. Everything was perfectly fine.
‘This is ridiculous.’
Thinking that, Iseo opened her mouth.
“Aren’t you nervous?”
“…Me?”
At that, Myeongjeon answered as if Iseo’s question were absurd and looked at her face. It was slightly pale.
‘That’s not a face that can afford to worry about the audience’s reaction or anything else.’
Thinking that at least one burden had been lifted, Myeongjeon answered Iseo.
“Worry about yourself first. Your hands are shaking. Will you even be able to play?”
Seoha was showing no sign of agitation like a veteran, while Hyeona, perhaps accustomed to performances and competitions, showed only the nervousness that came from her personality.
But unlike them, this was truly Iseo’s first performance. And she would be performing not before ten or twenty people, but before an audience packed into the auditorium… It was understandable that she would react that way.
‘My first performance…’
It had been so long ago that he could barely remember it, Myeongjeon thought. Still, when he tried to recall… to calm his nerves… he thought he had drunk a glass of whiskey before going onstage. Not a particularly helpful memory.
“Don’t worry.”
“Huh?”
Before long, the dance team’s stage ended and the curtain came down. The departing students passed by, looking at Myeongjeon with curious eyes.
But Myeongjeon did not even spare them a glance. Instead, he watched Seoha and Hyeona, who had gone onstage to set up the equipment, and spoke to Iseo.
“Don’t worry about the performance.”
“…Of course I’m not worried~ Why would you think I am? You know how good I am. I don’t make mistakes.”
Iseo’s voice was deliberately bright. But Myeongjeon shook his head and opened his mouth.
“No, you’ll make mistakes. With 100% certainty. Your hands are shaking even now. Do you think they won’t shake once you’re up there?”
“But don’t worry. Even if every one of you makes a mistake… I’ll cover for you.”
“I’m good enough to do that.”
As he said this, Myeongjeon brushed back his hair and gave it a slight part. His hair fell over his shoulder. At his words, Seoha and Hyeona, who had been organizing the equipment, and Iseo, whose hands had been trembling slightly… all looked at Myeongjeon’s face.
“This performance ends here, and that’s it. Don’t waste a chance that will never come again by pointlessly getting nervous. Just be yourselves. Do what you practiced. All you have to do is show them what you can do.”
“So enjoy it.”
“You’re doing this because it makes you happy, so why are you trembling? Just throw off the pressure weighing on your shoulders—the pressure that says, ‘You must not make a mistake.’”
Myeongjeon’s words quieted the atmosphere.
Backstage, only the sounds from beyond the curtain could be heard.
The kids, shrouded in silence, steadied their breathing. The pounding of their hearts gradually subsided.
“Group Sound Team… Senior Jeong Hyeona. Are you ready?”
“Ah, just a moment…”
The student from the broadcasting club called Hyeona, apparently because the setup was complete. Hyeona signaled for them to wait a moment, then looked at Myeongjeon.
“Then, let’s go.”
Myeongjeon said it briefly.