Sound and Fury
Myeongjeon burst out of the cafe, declaring he needed to write a song, and headed straight home. The kids looked a bit taken aback, but there was nothing for it. Inspiration like that had to be seized the moment it struck.
Song structure. First off, he'd divide it into a first half and a second half. Make it nice and long, too. Seven or eight minutes—might not be ideal for TV, but judging came from the live audience, experts, and mentors. As long as he could whip up a reaction from the crowd on-site, who cared if it didn't make for great footage?
Overall, it'll be a song channeling raw anger. In other words, Sound and Fury...
The dominant emotion in both halves: fury. Resignation at the start, then rage. A melody embodying resignation in the opening, fury in the back half. Guitar and piano to carry it along. Drums and bass could work, but that'd make it too aggressive. Give the piano a distant, psychedelic haze, like it's echoing from far away, while the guitar drives the melody head-on.
Slip in a classical guitar solo midway—let the emotions vent a bit so the audience doesn't get too pent-up. Build anticipation for the back half automatically. Wrap it up with an electric guitar solo. The struggle of the have-nots. Sound effects would help there, maybe even a chorus to evoke the voices of the furious masses. Some folks might squirm, but rock back then was kinda lefty anyway—nothing to be done about it.
And the end: fade out wistfully, reminiscing on those who burned out. Mix in some blues vibes.
Vocals—need two people.
Lead vocals suited Iseo best. Her firm, low voice would nail the song's furious energy. Myeongjeon could cover the high notes she couldn't hit.
He sketched out the rough structure, stretched, and heard a knock at the door.
"Suyeon, dinner's ready."
"Coming."
The table was already set when he stepped out. Had he been so locked in he couldn't even help with dinner? Myeongjeon sat down, reflecting on his behavior.
"How's the audition show going?"
"You watched it with me that time."
"TV doesn't show the full story."
Hyein had a point—Myeongjeon nodded. Only snippets of the chaos behind the cameras made it past the PD's edit. Who knew what got cut.
He'd always been wary of TV, but this audition had deepened his distrust.
"Well, no major issues... nothing affecting physical or mental health, specifically."
"Okay."
"About that thing from before, the old stuff..."
Myeongjeon always hesitated bringing this up with "Mom." It was one of the deepest wounds for her.
"I think we should reach out ahead of time. Might need an interview. Anyway, no telling when or how it'll come up."
Hyein fell silent at his words. Not a topic she relished, but dodging it wouldn't solve anything.
"Alright. I'll have her come by sometime... Anything else?"
"Hmm. Other than that... the kids keep messing with me?"
"What?"
Hyein's shocked reaction got an offhand reply from Myeongjeon. The girls treated her like a toy—teasing, tickling, dragging her places, you name it.
"Nah, that's normal."
"It's getting intense. Like they're still playing with dolls or... treating me like an elementary kid, bossing me around."
Hyein chuckled at her daughter's grumbling. At least she seemed to be having fun—unaware her cheeks were puffed out like a pufferfish as she ranted on.
After playing the finished track, Myeongjeon tweaked the FX and piano parts per Hyeona's input.
"I think we need more FX, like richer chorus elements. And in the vocal sections, piano arpeggios in the background."
Iseo griped that her bass part felt like "root-note shuttle duty," but it couldn't be helped—not that kind of song.
Seoha just said, "I can do fills however I want, right?"
Then it was practice, practice, practice. Nothing noteworthy. Even Iseo, who'd caught endless flak, was hitting her stride... and the parts weren't that tough anyway. Only Hyeona's hands were busy stacking synths and keys.
"FX just glitched."
"Ack! Sorry!"
Similar sounds, but slightly off. Even pared down for stage, with laptops and gear piled up, mix-ups were inevitable.
"Why am I the only one getting chewed out? Hyeonbin just points it out and stops."
"Hyeonbin" was Iseo's nickname for Hyeona—Hyeona + Seibin, with a honorific slapped on. Weird, but better than teachers yelling "Ha Yeonsoo!! No sleeping!!" everywhere, his own moniker spreading school-wide.
"You mess up all the time."
"Not all the time."
"99 out of 100 days? That's all the time."
"Down to 50 these days!"
Iseo hollered back. Still overestimating. Good thing live shows were flawless.
Chatting like that, the broadcast crew arrived.
"Gear okay here?"
"Yeah, thanks."
Broadcast equipment rolling in. Past mentor shoots had been at the station's practice room, but this "real sword fight" episode meant on-site filming. Myeongjeon didn't get the difference, but whatever the station wanted.
"Hello~ Let's have a good shoot."
"Oh! Wasn't sure, but yep—Im Junhong's studio, right?"
Two mentors: Doyeon from Dohwaseo, and Kim Jinseo. Doyeon plopped down casually; Jinseo asked like he'd confirmed something.
"Yes, that's right."
"Huh... yeah, I think Junhong mentioned it. Genius kid lets you use the studio free."
"Free? Here?"
Jinseo muttered, like he'd heard rumors. Ignoring Doyeon's odd chatter, he pressed on.
"So, that genius using it free... rumor has it she's connected to guitarist Seo Myeongjeon. That you?"
"Yes."
"Whoa, we've got a grandmaster in the house."
Kim Jinseo suddenly bowed 90 degrees with flair. As Doyeon gawked, Myeongjeon yanked him up.
Bad enough getting "old man" treatment—don't make it worse.
"What're you doing?"
"Doyeon doesn't know. In guitar circles, there are revered elders—masters. And this Ha Suyeon kid's the last direct disciple of one. Like, Shin Jung-hyun's final protégé."
"Whoa, that's huge."
Jinseo joked around; Doyeon seemed to buy it, looking alarmed.
Not you too...
"See? Told you she's not a normal high schooler. Post-accident, she's a bit off."
"Brain injury, maybe..."
"You two, cut it out..."
Iseo and Seoha whispered loudly, leaving flustered Myeongjeon grinding his teeth—no yelling in front of others.
Things calmed a bit.
"1970s, right? I wasn't born then, so... Jinseo?"
"Not familiar either. Wasn't born."
"Really?"
"I'm an '80s baby, myself."
The mentors bantered lightly for airtime, then turned to the band.
"Group Sound, any 1970s ties? Parents, maybe?"
Someone who lived it is right here...
"Uh, my parents are '78 babies."
While Myeongjeon mused, Seoha piped up. '78? God, kids from then were already Seoha's age?
"Heard any stories prepping the song? How was it?"
"They barely remember... too young. Just 'good times~' stuff. Nothing else."
Mentors nodded, passing the mic. Silence. Doyeon smiled awkwardly, launching her prep.
"I actually researched the '70s."
She rattled off disco, psychedelia, hippies, etc. Prosperity, abundance.
Ambiguous...
Myeongjeon thought, then let it go. Eras mean different things to different people.
He emptied his mind as Doyeon enthused, "1970s were like~"
Form is emptiness, emptiness is form.
"Alright, let's hear the song concept. Can you explain?"
Shooting proper now. Iseo fielded Doyeon's host bit.
"We focused on the era's vibe. Borrowed musical elements, but really honed in on the mood."
"Ooh, era's emotion. Intriguing—details?"
Doyeon to Iseo, who sheepishly passed to Myeongjeon.
"I see the '70s as turbulent. Some call it great, but my take? Unsettled, unjust stuff everywhere."
"That the vibe? Fresh take. We pictured bright, lively. Right, Jinseo?"
"Yeah. '70s feel upbeat somehow. High growth? Not sure, but 'eat well, live well' energy?"
The pair laughed. Myeongjeon clenched his teeth unwittingly.
No! It was shit, never wanna go back, nothing good, now's best—most music back then raged at the grim fucking reality!
Couldn't say it. Whose age fit the '70s better—Ha Suyeon's or theirs? And it'd give these hyenas ammo to tease.
This the 'gaslighting' kids talk about?
"From our research... '70s weren't that bright. Punk rose then. Economy, politics too..."
Myeongjeon spoke evenly, hiding it for the cameras.
Ayoon stood in line, nerves jangling. Unlike before, barely any audience sans merch. Some was her own Group Sound designs—unofficial can badges, stickers, keychains, pins for cost only. She'd hoped for official stuff, but no label for that, and Paradox only sold logo tees nearby.
Fanclub needs work too.
This messy audition had undeniably boosted Group Sound's popularity. Her scrappy solo fanclub had ballooned—talk of president, officializing. Enough that physical CDs and limited LPs stayed
SOLD OUT
despite constant reprints.
"Saw when our girls go on today?"
"Hold on... Pamphlet doesn't list. Group Sound... nope."
Thrilled at "our girls," Ayoon squeezed into her packed seat amid buzzing excitement.
"Hello! First time, again, or long time—before 'boring' slips out, straight to it!"
Laughter rippled. MC grinned.
"Today's theme: as on screen... year-by-year 1:1 battles! Six bands per era showdown."
"First up: Group Sound vs. Mystica! Theme: 1970s!"
1970s
First round?
Mystica: a powerhouse anyone following knew. And they faced Group Sound head-on.
"Epic. 1st vs. 2nd."
"One drops. Finals preview?"
Ayoon glanced up at the murmurs as Mystica took the stage first.