Chapter 5
After finishing the performance, Myeongjeon took only the two effects pedals. All the other equipment belonged to those guys.
He wondered if he should help them, but decided not to. He had let them perform something they could never have played at their level, so that was payment enough.
‘Come to think of it, what is this feeling…?’
Something vague kept surfacing in his mind, giving him a strange feeling. It was a sensation he had never experienced in his previous life—a strange, ticklish feeling that, somehow, something might come of this.
It had happened before, too. Even when he sang alone in ‘Ha Suyeon’s’ house—though it had ended badly, of course—he had felt something slightly different from when he was ‘Seo Myeongjeon.’
‘Does that mean something has changed? My body is different, so is my talent different too?’
As a musician, Myeongjeon’s greatest weaknesses had been creativity and adaptability: the ability to create ‘originality,’ to adapt existing things and create new types of things.
It wasn’t that he was completely incapable of creating something new. But it required an entirely different level of effort from someone who had real talent, and even then, it wasn’t particularly efficient.
For instance, Myeongjeon was confident he had mastered ‘almost everything’ about the guitar… but improvisation was the one thing he hadn’t mastered. To play a reasonably good solo, he had to spend a long time devising it before a performance and then memorize it; otherwise, he couldn’t produce anything beyond stringing together licks (see Note 1).
But now…
‘It feels like something keeps coming to me…’
His train of thought was interrupted by the people approaching him.
They had initially acted haughty, but quickly became polite when they realized that several people from the same industry were present.
‘We have to land this kid.’
That was the thought shared by everyone there. If they could just sign her, their bonuses for the year were practically guaranteed.
A slender figure and a cold impression. Her face was already pretty enough as she was, so with makeup, she would be even more beautiful. She looked somewhat arrogant, but that wasn’t a problem. It was natural star quality.
And then there was her skill, enough to overshadow even her looks. The people there knew rock and guitars only as much as people in the entertainment industry generally did. Even so, her playing was good enough to draw an awed, “Incredible,” from them.
“Please seriously consider joining us. With talent like yours, student, you could debut in no time. Please contact us.”
“Just mention my name, and you can walk right in…!”
“You know our company, right? We’re famous for our production skills. Trust us and come aboard.”
The unusual sight of several people crowding around her and handing over business cards drew everyone’s attention. Myeongjeon accepted all the cards, then shoved them haphazardly into her pocket in lieu of an answer.
‘Once I join a company, I’ll inevitably be worked to death by it.’
And then what? Before he knew it, he would just be Session Man #1, convenient for the company to work to death. The title might be different, of course… but how would that be any different from his past?
“Excuse me, could I get your autograph?”
As he stood there for a moment thinking, the two audience members from earlier approached Myeongjeon. They held out a piece of paper—whether it was a notebook page or something else, he couldn’t tell.
Signing autographs was something he had done constantly since his twenties, so the act itself held little novelty for him. But…
“I don’t have an autograph.”
“Then just your name!”
Should he write his name? Myeongjeon wondered. In his opinion, even if this was high school, coming to Hongdae and performing while officially out sick was bound to be a problem… probably. So wouldn’t leaving evidence like his name be a little risky?
But surely they wouldn’t expel him over something like this, he thought, and wrote his name. [Ha Suyeon, stay healthy.] At worst, he would take a few whacks… No, hadn’t he heard schools didn’t hit students these days? What was the world coming to?
He thought children had to take a few hits while growing up to develop a decent temperament. If this friend of his, ‘Ha Suyeon,’ had been hit when she was young, would she have grown up drinking and smoking?
‘The world has really gotten soft…’
Thinking that, Myeongjeon briskly signed autographs for the people who had gathered around her before he knew it. Near the end of the line, the two men who had played with her kept saying things like, “Student, would you maybe be interested in playing again sometime…?”
Myeongjeon merely smiled at them and left.
And someone else…
“Today’s video is going to be huge.”
Sensing the signs of an explosion in views, he quickly gathered up his filming equipment.
This is definitely going to blow up. Maybe it’ll easily pass a million views for the first time in ages…!
* * *
‘Mom’ had already left for work. Myeongjeon got out of bed and dragged himself to the shower. The body that had initially felt unfamiliar was now something he was used to. The only thing he still couldn’t get used to was the length of his hair. He had wanted to shave it all off, but ‘Mom’ had talked him out of it.
‘Suyeon, if you cut that, a bob will be even harder to manage…’
He had wanted to cut it simply because he thought short hair would be easier to maintain. But after hearing the ironic explanation that longer hair was actually easier for women to manage, he decided not to cut it.
He had left his phone exactly as it had been on the first day after leaving the hospital. He still had no idea how he should deal with ‘Ha Suyeon’s’ friends.
He sat down in a chair and picked up the guitar.
In his previous life, Myeongjeon practiced guitar every day, rain or shine, unless something serious happened.
Four hours on a short day, ten on a long one. Chromatics, scales, chords, rhythm, picking, tapping, harmonics, and so on. He had practiced that way for what amounted to decades. It was so familiar now that it had become part of his daily routine, but…
It wasn’t easy in this body. His hands twisted themselves into a wreck from the very beginning.
‘I haven’t felt something like this in decades.’
As he diligently worked his fingers, Myeongjeon sank into thought. While busking yesterday, he had realized three things.
First, he needed brutal practice to regain his former skill.
Of course, he could still play at a certain level… but his stamina and accuracy were both far below what they had been. He would need to practice consistently to restore them.
Second, it seemed that becoming ‘Ha Suyeon’ had given him a talent he hadn’t possessed before.
He was certain of it. It was a sensation he had never felt even once in his decades of playing guitar. When he lost himself in playing, it felt as though something latched on and tossed him musical ideas.
‘If this develops, it’ll become what people commonly call “originality.”’
However, Myeongjeon thought this ‘talent’ was still too weak to raise any expectations. Talent was perfected through training, too. He couldn’t afford to become overconfident.
Third, he needed to decide what direction to take with his music.
He had thought he would live a life of enjoying music, but he hadn’t considered how exactly he would enjoy it.
Alone? Or as part of a group? Would he follow the path of a singer-songwriter like Eric Clapton or John Mayer? Or that of a pure guitarist like Jeff Beck? Or play in a band?
‘If I’m going to do it anyway, a band does sound appealing.’
Youth never comes around a second time. Once you passed thirty and became an adult… all the strength of that time, when you charged ahead vaguely, wielding youth as your weapon without knowing anything, inevitably disappeared.
Myeongjeon had long since passed his youth, of course, but weren’t there kids around him? Even if they stood on the outskirts of youth, they were still young.
Thinking that he should try forming a band if the opportunity arose, Myeongjeon put his thoughts in order.
Now that things had turned out this way, he felt something like the excitement of learning guitar for the first time, and it put him in a good mood. But that pleasant mood soon turned into worry.
‘I don’t have any equipment, so forget bands or talent—I can’t even practice to begin with.’
No matter how long he had played guitar, he ultimately needed to hear the guitar’s actual sound in order to practice. And to make sound, he needed equipment—an amp, speakers, and things like that.
Of course, an amp or speakers weren’t strictly necessary for practice. The world had improved these days; a computer, an audio interface, and a program like Guitar Rig were enough.
But there was no computer in this house.
Myeongjeon wondered which option would be cheaper. Should he buy an amp? Or would a computer, an audio interface, and a program cost less? Ordinarily, the latter would probably be better. But considering live performances, the former was better. In a live setting, after all, he would have no choice but to use an amp.
‘I should go to Paradise first.’
That was what Myeongjeon decided. He had several options: he could use a headphone amp, buy an amp and speakers, or plug headphones into an amp, among other possibilities…
* * *
Nakwon Arcade really hadn’t changed at all since the last time he’d visited. Old men playing janggi with passersby as their backdrop.
In the past, the sales pitches at Nakwon Arcade had been so aggressive that people even called it “Nakpali.” They said it was a little less intense these days, and Myeongjeon found that slightly disappointing. It felt as though the old ways were gradually disappearing.
Looking back on the past… long ago, when most of the shop owners in Nakwon knew him. Every time he visited, there were always employees who failed to recognize him and tried to lure him into their shops.
Whenever that happened, he would pretend not to know anything and let himself be led away. Then, after praising his guitar playing in front of an employee doing his best to sell him a guitar… he would show off his skill and get one over on them.
Some of the employees he had pranked that way eventually became shop managers, and years later, they would toss new employees to him as prey, asking him to teach the new hires a lesson.
But those days had disappeared a long time ago. Even the traces that had remained solely for him had crumbled away a few days earlier, and now they were gone.
‘Maybe it’s because I’ve become a teenage girl, but I seem to keep slipping into sentimental thoughts at the drop of a hat.’
Or maybe it was simply because his mind had grown old. Myeongjeon shook his head slightly to dispel the sentimentality.
Unlike the Nakwon of the past, the second floor he entered was quiet. A few people passed through the hallway. Myeongjeon slowly walked across the marble floor covered in the glow of the setting sun.
Fender, Gibson, PRS, John Suhr, Tyler, Anderson, Jackson, Ibanez, ESP, Music Man, Epiphone, Squier, Yamaha, Cort, Beyond, Dame, Charvel, Schecter, Hammer, Peerless, and so on and so on…
Seeing the various guitars displayed like rows of soldiers, Myeongjeon felt inexplicably happy. It wasn’t as if he particularly needed these guitars… but he felt somehow full.
“Young lady, stop and take a look at a guitar.”
“What are you looking for?”
These were sales pitches he could never have heard when he looked like a man. Perhaps because he now looked like a girl who didn’t seem to know the first thing about guitars, he was hearing pitches he hadn’t heard in years.
Casually ignoring them, Myeongjeon kept walking. He didn’t come to Nakwon often, but the shop he always visited when he did was tucked away in that corner.
They wouldn’t recognize him by appearance, but after exchanging a few words, they would realize he wasn’t someone they could rip off. Then he could buy things at around the lowest prices online. He had brought cash, too, so he might even get them cheaper than that.
Myeongjeon walked slowly down the hallway. Then someone coming from the opposite direction saw him and stopped.
“… Huh? Ha Suyeon?”
Myeongjeon didn’t realize his name was being called. It wasn’t a name he was used to. So he continued looking at the guitars without giving it any thought, but—
“Ha Suyeon!”
He had no choice but to respond to the second call. The name ‘Ha Suyeon’ was called again as someone tapped him on the shoulder. Thinking, ‘That was my name, wasn’t it?’ Myeongjeon turned to the side.
Long, straight hair. A black vest over a white school-uniform shirt, with a bust well above average beneath it. A taut H-line skirt shortened to barely halfway down her thighs. Sanrio mascot accessories dangled from the school bag hanging halfway off her shoulder, while the bass case on her back was plastered with bunny stickers.
“Ha Suyeon! Why are you here?”
Was the mature-looking face because of makeup? Red lips, a sharply defined nose, and relaxed, drooping eyes. A high school girl was staring at him with a puzzled expression.
Myeongjeon frantically searched his mind. Uh… who was she again? The fact that the answer wasn’t coming quickly from his memories probably meant he and ‘Ha Suyeon’ weren’t very close.
“Uh… Choi Iseo?”
“What? Suyeon, you don’t remember me? What’s with her… Oh. I heard you were in an accident. Is that why?”
“I thought you weren’t coming to school…” the girl muttered. While she did, Myeongjeon desperately searched for information.
Choi Iseo.
A student from another class.
Someone who wanted to pretend she was one of the cool kids. (That was how Ha Suyeon saw her.)
She kept clinging to me and pretending we were close, which was annoying.
She liked some strange characters.
That was about all the information he could find in ‘Ha Suyeon’s’ memories.
‘But that bag on her back… That’s definitely an instrument… Was she one of the kids who played music?’
That was what Myeongjeon thought.
And Choi Iseo thought the same thing.
‘Why is she here?’
She had greeted Suyeon simply because she was glad to see a familiar face, but she had no idea why the girl was here.
Ha Suyeon.
First-year, Class 6, Hansung High School.
One of Hansung High’s Three Lunatics.
She studied fairly well and wasn’t the sort to cause a scene during class, so she got along well with the teachers, but…
It was common for her to torment girls in her grade, and when she found out someone was dating, she would follow the couple around, watch them, and publicly ridicule them.
She had slapped a third-year girl at a drinking party with her seniors. She had even reportedly gotten drunk and fought three girls from another school.
She was the kind of person who made something entertaining happen whenever she was nearby, so some students liked her… Choi Iseo herself had even tried to become friends with her once. It hadn’t worked out, though.
Anyway, that was the kind of person she was. Had she already come to?
“You… do music…?”
Perhaps flustered by Choi Iseo’s sudden appearance, Suyeon stammered slightly.
Only then did Choi Iseo realize that she had never told this girl she played music.
‘I thought it looked kind of pretentious, so I tried not to let the kids at school find out…!’
She had spotted a familiar face and greeted her without thinking, accidentally outing herself in the process. If things ended here, everyone in the first year at Hansung High would probably know by tomorrow that she played music. Ha Suyeon was definitely the kind of person who could make that happen.
“Hey, hey, hey, Suyeon, come over here for a second. No, please come with me.”
Choi Iseo tried to pull Suyeon by the hand, but it didn’t work very well. In her panic, she wrapped her arms around Suyeon and dragged her roughly toward a corner of the arcade.
‘Are high school girls these days really this daring…?’
Without properly understanding the situation, Myeongjeon was dragged away in the girl’s soft embrace, and that was what he thought.