The Talent That Captivates People
"Whoa, the composer at #4 on the music charts."
"#1 and #2 are megastars, so it's basically #2."
"Then let's call it basically #1."
What happens if you become a celebrity while going to school? These days, I'm getting the answer to that question firsthand.
"Kim Seryeon, your composing is seriously amazing. Got anything else in the works?"
"How close are you and Ji Soeun, really? I'm dying to know."
"Gotta get Kim Seryeon's autograph now. Even buying in now, it'll only go up more."
These first-years at Hanseong Arts High are putting on an utterly ridiculous display of fawning. Arts high schools are full of this kind of thing anyway. Just starting with the vocal majors in the practical music department—they're power insiders. The entertainment majors, all of whom got in after acting auditions, can put on pro-level extra fawning at the drop of a hat. No need to even mention the dance majors who perform in front of crowds.
If you compile all their fawning lines, it boils down to this:
Hanseong Arts High practical music first-year composition major Kim Seryeon. He's not just lucky enough to be born handsome. He's the composing genius already devouring the market and shredding the charts—Kim Seryeon himself.
Major agency CEO: What? Be careful of one high school composition student?
Pro producer: Yes. Private Kim Seryeon is dangerous.
"—I wish they'd cut that crap out."
The fear of real people's attention is no joke. What if someone overhears?
"Feels like the kids are messing with me on purpose, or am I imagining it?"
He slipped into the classroom, dodging the pro-fawners packing the hallway, and grumbled during break. But Kang Saero just shook her head.
"Nah, they seem serious."
"This Hanseong Arts High scares me."
"But what was that on the broadcast when Ji Soeun called your name?"
Even Kang Saero...! He shot her a betrayed look, but her follow-up made it clear. She was determined to get an answer.
"She called your name on air, waved like she was super grateful. Idol trainees never get tangled up with guys on purpose. And she calls you just a friend? Really?"
Honestly, even I'm in a bind. It did go beyond just-friend level. But I have a solid counterargument. Sure, she's an idol trainee on the fast track to debut. Ji Soeun isn't crazy enough to throw it all away for that. The only thing different about me is my looks. It's arrogant to assume every girl will fall head over heels just because I'm handsome now.
"We met at the preliminaries for the audition, swapped numbers after, give each other music advice back and forth. That's the vibe. Probably just grateful for the tips. Musically."
"Musically."
Kang Saero nodded with skeptical eyes.
"But isn't that kinda hard to get close over?"
"We've gamed together a few times. Not often."
"Yeah. Gaming. Got it."
Her gaze turned icy in an instant. Cold as winter icicles.
"......"
I know it too. That Kang Saero has a thing for me. I'm not that oblivious. But we're not dating or anything—she hasn't confessed. And guys game together all the time too. I threw it out casually, expecting no big reaction, but this frosty stare?
I don't have any other friends besides Kang Saero.
I could make new conversation partners anytime, but against these pro-fawners? The only one who knew the real me before I blew up is Kang Saero. What now?
Thankfully, she softened her expression soon enough, nodding like it had never bothered her at all.
"Whatever. Guys game with their bros all the time. Friends do that. It's fine."
"Yeah, just friends, like I said."
"So what games do you like, Kim Seryeon?"
Crunch. Kang Saero crushed her empty zero-sugar soda can flat. Watching the pretty delinquent do that gave off primal intimidation vibes.
How to escape this? Play it down—say games aren't a big deal to me.
"Honestly, I don't like them much."
That was the plan, but her eyes iced over again.
"Ohhh. So you played games you don't even like just to get close to Ji Soeun? Gotcha."
"That's not what I meant."
"How is that not what you meant? You won't with me!"
"You said you don't game."
"Yeah, but! If you'd asked, I would've... made an account or whatever."
"Sorry."
"I'm hurt. Super hurt."
But Kang Saero isn't the type to push someone into a corner. She dropped the grilling quick and lightened the mood with a joke.
"You wouldn't ditch me if Ji Soeun ranks higher than Bless, right?"
"Of course not."
She pouted at me for a second, but the vibe eased up. That's why being around Kang Saero beats anyone else. No sooner had I sighed in relief than she tossed out advice casually.
"Still, be careful. Messing around romantically with an idol trainee could drag you down too."
"True, but blindly pushing her away 'cause I'm assuming it's romance would be weird too."
"Can't you just consult me when you see her?"
"......Huh?"
"Oh?"
This time, Kang Saero was the flustered one. She fanned herself frantically, caught off-guard by her own slip.
"I mean, you've always been hopeless with girls, so."
"That's."
"Just saying. Means nothing."
Class was starting right on cue, so she bolted back to her seat in quick strides.
Lunchtime. Kang Saero scarfed down her meal quick for vocal class and dipped. I finished eating and snuck out of the classroom to the club room.
The club rooms are in the second annex, mostly used by entertainment and dance majors, so it's way less fawning than the main building.
"Whoa, it's Kim Seryeon."
"Heading to the club room?"
"Nice mask. Could do acting instead of composing."
"Real life beats the camera pics."
Seniors in the hallway? That level of reaction. If the first-year classroom hall is a fan meet, this feels like a broadcast station waiting room.
Seniors here definitely have celebrity immunity.
Simple reason: tons of debuted or debut-ready seniors. Seeing hot, pretty, famous people is their daily routine.
Phew.
Good call evacuating here. Made it to the club door stress-free.
"Whoa, the superstar."
The familiar door to the one-and-only theater club at Hanseong Arts High, Mu-jika, opened to cheers.
A girl lounging on the sofa with legs crossed greeted with a hand chop.
"Welcome, superstar of Korea's music scene, Kim Seryeon."
Sharp features, model figure. And that easygoing charm that puts people at ease. Han Soye sunbae, second-year entertainment major and club president.
"Welcome, but is that greeting trending or something?"
"What? First-years don't do it these days? Generational gap."
Seems some weird trend's circulating among seniors.
"Where's Kang Saero?"
"Vocal exam prep, headed to practice."
"Wanted to see Saero in person. Bummer."
"Anyway, too many people recognize me in the main building—mind if I hide out here?"
"Duh. You're our club's MVP, Kim Seryeon."
Han Soye sunbae offered a seat with messiah-level eyes. Other seniors chimed in with the same vibe.
"Hide as long as you want. No—live here forever."
"We'll guard you with our lives, Seryeon."
"Move! Give the fluffiest seat to Kim Seryeon-nim!"
"I'll head out after lunch ends...."
My official Mu-jika title? MVP. Overkill? But they fawn for a reason.
Truth is, Hanseong Arts High has no musical theater department.
'All the skills for musicals are spread across departments anyway. Why bother? Acting from entertainment, vocals from practical music, dance from dance—put 'em together.'
That's the admin office's ironclad logic. Want musicals? Make a club yourselves.
Thus, theater and musical club Mu-jika was born. But with a fatal flaw: chronic manpower shortage. Mounting a show needs actors, vocalists, dancers, directors, staff—from every major. Rounding up busy arts high kids? Nightmare.
- Is Mu-jika really done for this year?
- Who's gonna do the play then?
That chatter every year, apparently.
"Honestly, without you, we'd be toast."
Second-year Han Soye sunbae's testimony.
"Dead serious."
She reminisced solemnly about that dark era. Early this year, Mu-jika's doom loomed.
"We used to lure first-years with 'see idols!' from seniors. But idols are swamped—can't club. Newbies came for idols, got disappointed, all bailed. We nearly folded."
The "pretty face bait" strategy had fizzled. As president, Han Soye made a desperate call.
"So I begged you on my life to join."
Through pitiful pleas and persuasion, they reeled me in. Acting gives you panic attacks? No need. My boyfriend's genius director Baek Yul—I'll hook you up. Use his MV shoots however. Or do nothing. Just exist in Mu-jika, please.
......It worked.
"Support apps piled up 'cause they wanted to see you. Audition-show level competition."
Not even an idol, but more buzz than one. Word of my joining spread, and Mu-jika got its first-ever entry interviews—total mob scene.
So to seniors, I'm a walking billboard and club guardian deity.
Meanwhile, in the corner sofa, club prez's boyfriend Baek Yul sunbae lounged under a blanket. He stirred late, waving lazily from under it.
"You're here."
"Congratulate him too, oppa."
"On what."
"Two tracks he's composed hit the charts. And our videos and kids walk tall thanks to Seryeon."
Baek Yul sunbae replied flatly to Han Soye's hype.
"Strictly speaking, not two. Bless is Seryeon junior's composition, but Ji Soeun's song... did he do anything?"
"See this."
Han Soye shoved her smartphone in his face.
"Seen it?"
"Mm. About that much."
"Stop sleeping and look properly!"
"Ow! Shoulder! My shoulder!"
Taller Han Soye pinned him; he flailed. What article's got them like this? I sidled over.
"Um, mind showing me too?"
"Oh! Sorry!"
She stopped her "love massage"; Baek Yul snail-shelled into the blanket. The screen showed an entertainment news main feature.
Ji Soeun SNS: "Friend Kim Seryeon's advice was decisive in stage concept."
– Completely overhauling ballad stage was a godsend
– Deep musical connection with composer Kim Seryeon
– Wants to keep going as musical partners...
"See? Deep musical connection. People'll think of Kim Seryeon hearing Ji Soeun now."
"Nah, I just gave a few tips. Didn't do anything."
"That's called equity."
No, really, just that much.
"Probably Ji Soeun hyping me up 'cause she wants to look out for me."
"......"
Baek Yul sunbae poked out, staring steadily. Then with his signature drowsy-sharp gaze:
"You're the real deal."
"Pardon?"
"Not just any company—JK Ent idol trainee, and you've got her wrapped. No ordinary guy."
"I'm not wrapping anyone."
Whatever. He burrowed back, muttering.
"Scary talent."
"In this industry, gathering people is the scariest talent."