Storefront Jams and Sneaky Sips
The kid who'd confidently grabbed the bass during their Japan trip sat down on the demo stool, shook out her hands for a moment, and started playing the fretless bass. But the sound coming from the instrument was less like music and more like a dull thump-thump. The riff itself seemed like the intro to ZUTOMAYO's Zanki, but the pitch was way off.
"The sound's weird."
"This thing's super tough somehow. The sound's not coming out right. Is it 'cause there are no frets?"
The kids were chatting in Korean. The one who'd played the bass looked embarrassed now that the sound was off, despite her bold attempt at the fretless challenge... but he was pretty impressed by her skill.
Her form looks like she's never touched a fretless before, but there's something effortless about it.
A fretless bass is a bass without the metal frets embedded in the neck. The lack of frets allows for a more classical tone, but it demands far greater precision in fingering and pitch sense. So, for her to pull off a performance like that wasn't fumbling around—it was actually impressive. Even on her first try with a fretless, she was making something that could pass for music. Her form, incorporating slaps and vibrato just right, showed she was a solid bassist. The poor sound was probably just her not being used to the fretless yet.
"That's because it's a fretless bass. That's how the instrument works."
"Huh...? Hi? What? What'd she say?"
"She said it's because it's fretless. That's normal for it."
"Oh... arigato, arigato."
The tall kid set the bass down after that and the group scattered, browsing instruments freely. Unlike at first, he now thought these kids might actually generate some serious sales. And that conviction only grew stronger.
It solidified even more when the prettiest one among them picked up a red guitar. A Candy Apple Red '57 American Vintage Reissue Fender Strat. He wanted to tell her all about it—the model famous as David Gilmour's second guitar, how Gilmour used EMG pickups, and so on. But she seemed to understand zero Japanese, so it felt awkward to say anything. She just stared blankly even when he spoke.
What a shame. Just picking up a guitar like that feels like fate. If she knew its history, she might be more inclined to buy...
With those thoughts, he helped the gesturing high school girl set up the demo rig to her requests. He gestured to ask if he should tweak the tone, but she shook her head and fiddled with the amp herself to dial it in. When the playing started, he was utterly shocked.
Because what unfolded from her hands was the solo from Sorrow, one of Pink Floyd's late masterpieces. A bluesy tone crafted from just one amp, overlaid with fierce playing. She didn't look like an adult at all. To him, her looks seemed more like she'd hang out with the boys—or maybe debut as a K-pop idol singing her heart out. The kind of girl obviously living out her high school youth. But her hands carried a ring of experience hard to believe from a girl like her. Every note was played with care, no sloppiness, infused with deep emotion—the realm of a master.
For about two or three minutes... As the performance played out, the store owner poked his head out from the counter, stunned by the sound. When it ended, he approached naturally, clapping. The small applause echoed through the shop.
"Impressive... Mind if I ask how long you've been playing guitar?"
She tilted her head at his words. He explained to the owner.
"Boss, she's Korean. Doesn't seem to understand Japanese."
"Oops."
The owner shrugged awkwardly. He'd been complaining lately about needing a guitarist for his hobby band... Looked like he'd wanted to recruit her on the spot. Leaving the owner smacking his lips, he pulled out his phone's translator.
She read what he'd written, pulled out her own phone, and opened the translator. She crossed her arms, hesitating at his response. He almost felt like giving it away to her. Like the shoe store owner in Slam Dunk gifting Hanamichi (the original Sakuragi) those priceless Jordan 1 Bread highs back then.
But Slam Dunk was fiction, and this was reality. Handing over a 500,000-yen guitar would leave him eating nothing but bean sprouts for months. She wasn't even someone connected to him—he couldn't do that.
"What's up? Find a good instrument?"
"Yeah, but it's around 5 million won."
"Hmm... That's pricey."
While she chatted with what seemed like her aunt or guardian, he tidied up the slightly messed-up gear. The shop had gotten busier, with more people peeking in after hearing the demo. Amid the bustle, the kid who'd played the fretless earlier came down with another bass, shouting.
"Yeonsu! I want this one."
"Just buy it then. Why ask me?"
The bass she'd brought down was a Rickenbacker 4001—an early model no longer in production. An old left-handed one, its white faded to a pale cream.
"That one's gonna have a different tone from your usual bass. Switching from a Fender Precision to a Rickenbacker might feel weird."
"Tone? Just run it through effects. But look how pretty this is? This cream color is killer. Kinda like iPhone cream."
The sulky guitarist kid and the bubbly bassist. He couldn't understand their words, but it looked like the tall one was seeking the short one's opinion. They bickered back and forth, then stopped and showed him the translator.
"Uh..."
Not just demos, but jamming together. He hesitated, then asked the owner, who happily approved. Curious what they'd play, he helped set up their amps.
"What song you doing?"
"Was gonna try Zanki, but this guard blocks slaps. Gotta go with something safe."
They muttered things he couldn't follow, synced a rhythm briefly, and started playing. And he was shocked a second time.
He wasn't the only one. Most of the customers in the store turned to stare at the two high school girls. The song opened with a sweet sound. Music buffs would go, "Oh, this one!" Subculture fans would say, "No way, this song?"
An intro starting with low, beautiful guitar. Then hybrid picking with pick and fingers kicks in a lively melody, matched by punchy, driving bass. It felt like a "[TO BE CONTINUED]" subtitle might pop up any second.
Oh my god.
The guitarist kid's vocals. The moment he heard the first line, he instinctively knew he had to film this. Two Korean high school girls he'd never seen before walk in, say they're demoing, and start playing... the odds that it's the legendary masterpiece and subculture meme staple "Roundabout." And that they sync perfectly and play insanely well? What were the chances?
Uploading this to YouTube would skyrocket the shop's promo—obvious. The owner thought so too, rushing over with filming gear and giving him the eye. Ask the adults for permission.
"Um, sorry, but..."
"OK, you can record."
He approached apologetically, but the beauty who seemed like the chaperone smiled brightly, gesturing like she knew what he wanted: Record now.
He bowed in thanks and quickly set up, hitting record. Somehow, the manager even piped the song softly through external speakers outside. Drawn by the sound, passersby laughed in confusion or whipped out phones to film, amused. In the chaos, the two girls were lost in their own world, ignoring everyone. The other two from their group looked a bit sulky.
"That was fun."
After the random jam session at the instrument shop. Back in the room after dinner, Iseo blurted it out unexpectedly. She looked pretty satisfied, so Myeongjeon figured it really had been fun for her.
"You guys just... had your fun jamming. We needed setup time for our stuff, so you left us."
"Right? Drums and keys get no consideration? Like we're not people? Installable instruments are second-class citizens?"
"No, that's not what I meant! Why are you ganging up like that?"
The three bickered. Myeongjeon lounged lazily on someone else's bed, watching them yap nonsense.
"Who's to blame for this mess?"
They spouted crap like that, glanced at Myeongjeon briefly, then turned back to whisper among themselves.
"If you're bored, go to sleep. I'm heading out too. Gonna chat with Mom."
"We've got stuff to do. Found this rummaging earlier."
Iseo snarked back, digging in a drawer and pulling something out. A drawer full of booze: Yamazaki, Glenfiddich, Jack Daniel's... Myeongjeon wondered why minors' rooms had this.
"Let's have just one drink."
"Huh???"
"Already cleared it with Seoha unnie. Just one each."
Hyeona's shriek-like protest. But Seoha silently shushed her, finger to lips—like they were committing a crime.
"Minors drinking?"
Myeongjeon said it with a pitiful look. But Iseo's comeback shut him up.
"You drank back in the day too. Downing two or three bottles of soju at a go..."
Logical counter. Myeongjeon silently watched the two plotting their rebellion, then finally spoke.
"That stuff tastes like nothing special. Just bitter. And whiskey? You'll pass out right away."
"Dude, think about it. Why do adults chug booze, and why'd you back then? There must be some merit, right? That's why people drink."
Iseo wasn't listening no matter what. Myeongjeon shot Seoha a stop them look, but she eyed the booze with feigned innocence mixed with excitement.
We're screwed.
"Fine, I won't stop you. But don't touch that. Open it and it's tens of thousands gone. Grab beers from the fridge instead."
"You said we could?"
Thrilled at his "approval," they yanked beers from the fridge. Ignoring Hyeona, who'd retreated far away refusing to join, they laid out some shrimp crackers (Myeongjeon had no idea how Korean snacks ended up there) on the table... and Iseo and Seoha's (illegal) drinking party began...!
Before bed, Hyein knocked on the kids' door, curious if they were asleep and why Suyeon hadn't come back. The door creaked open slightly, revealing Hyeona's guilty face in the gap.
"Hyeona, what's wrong?"
"Uh... um..."
"Are the kids asleep?"
"Well..."
Hyein pushed the door open a bit at Hyeona's weird vibe. Hyeona yelped "Eek!" as she got dragged along. Inside the room, nothing major was wrong, but the kids' states were off.
"Why are they like this?"
"Um... They got booze from the fridge... and drank."
Hyeona's absurd answer. Hyein looked at Suyeon in shock. The parents trusted her with their kids—how'd they end up like this? And why hadn't Suyeon stopped them?
"Suyeon, you should've stopped them."
"How? I did stuff like that back then too. They wouldn't listen."
Hyein fell silent at Suyeon's words. Thinking about it, yeah. They hadn't even finished a single 500ml beer and were already wobbling, sunk. And her daughter had a history of chugging soju by the bottle. How could she stop them? At least she hadn't joined.
"Still, now that they've tried it once, maybe it'll cure them. They couldn't even finish one can each... Probably won't touch booze again..."
Hyein rubbed her forehead watching Suyeon. Her daughter, acting like a booze connoisseur with her "I've lived a full life" vibe, was still a minor. She really shouldn't be so casually playing the "seasoned drinker" like that...