Homecoming and a Viral Clip
"Is tomorrow the day we fly back?"
"Yeah."
After fending off endless waves of shipwrecked beach bros during their swim, they returned to the hotel for dinner. The bed in their room felt so plush that it knocked Hyeona out in less than a minute after she climbed in.
"Already asleep?"
"Uh... n-no, not yet..."
At Seoha's words, Hyeona sluggishly sat up, rubbing her eyes and crossing her legs.
Myeongjeon gazed out the room's window. The summer sea was pitch black, with the moon shining brightly above. Below, a white trail of moonlight danced and shattered on the rippling waves.
"Man, we didn't even do that much, and tomorrow's already our flight home. What have we even been up to this whole trip?"
Iseo muttered innocently, genuinely curious.
Myeongjeon quietly tallied up their activities. Buying instruments. Akihabara. Maid cafes. Nakano Broadway. Live clubs. Busking. Swimming.
"What do you mean 'not much'? We did a ton."
Iseo bristled at Myeongjeon's response.
"We should've been doing real tourist stuff!"
Watching her flail around, Myeongjeon wondered if the girl ever got tired. She'd been the most energetic the whole trip—walking miles, snapping photos nonstop—yet here she was, insisting they needed more "touristy" adventures.
"So, what now after we get back?"
Seoha's question drifted into Myeongjeon's ears as she stared out the window. She glanced up at the ceiling for a moment.
Yeah, what will we do?
"Band activities are on hold for now, at least."
"...Why?"
Iseo's eyes widened as she stared at Myeongjeon, her face screaming What the hell? It was like she'd been struck by lightning. Myeongjeon let out a wry chuckle.
"You forget? Hyeona's got entrance exams right after this trip. When's she gonna have time for band?"
"...Oh, right. Of course I remember."
"Bullshit."
"No, really! I do!"
"Then why the shocked face?"
"I was just acting surprised, duh."
Iseo shot back snarkily. Myeongjeon shook her head, thinking the girl was getting more childish by the second.
"Band's on hiatus for a bit. Group practices are out... How long do your exams run?"
"Um... I'm applying early admission, so probably until right before the college entrance exam..."
"Guess we're doing nothing till then. Perfect timing for a break. You guys are always begging for rest—now's your chance."
Myeongjeon leaned back in her chair, thinking it worked out well. They'd formed the band not long after she woke up in this body, and there hadn't been a real break since. Nearly a year in, it was about time—for her sake and the others'.
"Till when?"
"Till Hyeona's exams are done, I suppose."
Iseo let out a guttural "Uwaaaah!" and bolted upright on the bed, her whole body vibrating with joy. True to form for the kid who'd whined "Please let us rest!" at every practice, she was expressing her glee with full-body theatrics.
"For real? No take-backs? You won't call me at night or on weekends like, 'Hey, no escaping—get your ass to practice'?"
"...Have I said that?"
"Only 'cause she keeps running away."
Seoha looked mildly exasperated at Iseo's complaint. But Myeongjeon felt wronged. The weirdo was the one ditching practice, not the one dragging them there.
"Dragging! It wasn't just dragging—you're a bully! You even called my mom like, 'Hello, this is Iseo's friend Ha Suyeon. She's skipping practice again—do you know where she is?'"
"Then stop running."
"Still, calling my parents is too much..."
"Just show up. I'm not asking for the moon. Six hours a day isn't that bad."
The girls reacted like an elephant had popped out of Myeongjeon's mouth. Even Hyeona, dozing off in the back, gaped in disbelief.
But Myeongjeon sat there unfazed. Of course. Back in her prime practicing days, she'd strum the guitar 12, 14 hours straight. Eat, play guitar, eat, play guitar, eat, play guitar, sleep. When a technique wouldn't click, she'd chug coffee and drill it sleeplessly.
From that perspective, these kids looked like total weaklings. What could you accomplish with just six hours? Barely scratching the basics...
Hyeona finally gave in and burrowed fully under the covers.
That left three. To soothe the end-of-trip blues, they chatted softly.
"So what about you now?"
"Me?"
"Exams, career paths, whatever..."
Seoha stroked her chin thoughtfully before answering Myeongjeon's question.
"Dunno. College doesn't interest me much. I'll probably take a break too, practice on my own... Oh, my church band might have a competition coming up, so maybe join that."
"You go to church, unnie?"
Iseo looked horrified. But Myeongjeon thought it made sense. Drums don't fit in apartments—where else would she practice?
"I don't believe or anything. Just the band there."
"You can join without believing?"
Iseo reacted like a friend had confessed to being a lesbian.
"I'm the only one who can play drums in the band. Used to go more back in the day, but now just for drumming and personal practice."
Seoha seemed a bit awkward. Myeongjeon scratched her head, changing the subject to liven things up—and satisfy her curiosity about Iseo.
"What about you, then?"
"Me?"
Iseo scratched her head, looking like she had zero plans. Myeongjeon nailed it.
"No real plans."
...And she meant it. Myeongjeon sighed in disbelief. No plans? What kind of answer is that? Opportunities abound in life, but teenage years don't come back easy. Wasting them could be fixed, but it'd take way more time.
"Shouldn't you be thinking music career? Art school? Something career-wise?"
"It'll work out somehow."
"You one of those YOLO types trending lately?"
Myeongjeon asked seriously, but Iseo just shrugged with her usual "no plans" vibe. Unthinkingly, Myeongjeon tossed out:
"YOLO's not trending anymore—that peaked ages ago. You sound like an old fogey."
The retort stabbed like an unintended needle. Myeongjeon swallowed her frustration—nothing more unjust than a counterattack with no comeback.
After their grand multi-day Japan odyssey, Myeongjeon crashed at home, sleeping like the dead. No hotel or hostel beat your own bed.
"Suyeon, dinner's ready."
"Coming."
She woke to evening. Dinner was already on the table. Bowing her head, she took a bite. Mom's home cooking after a week was still delicious.
"So, what're your summer vacay plans?"
"Dunno... haven't thought about it."
She'd told Iseo the same yesterday, and Myeongjeon had no concrete plans either. Hers weren't "it'll work out"—more "just do the band thing." Slight difference.
"Gonna rest for a bit. Hyeona's got art school exams."
"Already? Makes sense, though... You thinking art school, Suyeon?"
"Me? Nah, not really."
Lee Hyein pondered that, falling deep in thought. Myeongjeon had considered art school. In Korea, credentials were a powerhouse—even in arts. A college-trained guitarist commanded higher rates than a high school dropout, same skills.
But why bother? Nothing to learn there anyway. Pedigrees only mattered up to a point. For someone like Myeongjeon—already booking gigs with fans lining up—such "labels" were pointless.
Leaving Hyein to fret over "Ha Suyeon's" future, Myeongjeon headed to her room and booted up the computer.
Wonder what's been going on in the world.
She'd avoided the internet entirely during the trip. Simple reason: wanted to focus. With real-life adventures everywhere, why dive into the web's useless toxicity?
No need for monitoring. So she'd paused her ritual community crawls. But home now—time to resume. To stay in touch with youth culture.
"Still spewing hate and bile over nothing..."
Surfing major sites, her thoughts drifted to the hot topic: AI. In a world of constant bickering, what kind of AI would emerge? Probably just a trash-talk bot.
With her old-timer gaze on the communities, one popular post snagged her eye.
A few days old, but stacked with over a thousand comments. Normally, she'd skip such a bland title, but the comment count had magnetic pull.
Clicking in, a video loaded: two skilled women playing guitar and bass inside an instrument shop. Crowds gathered outside and in, mesmerized.
Below, edited "memes"—screenshots. A YouTuber who'd visited the buzzed shop. Staff grinning about record sales that day and surging business after. The clerk's face rang familiar...
Where do I know that from?
Myeongjeon scrolled up, rewatching the duo. Rickenbacker 4001 bass. Fender '84 reissue Candy Apple Strat.
Wait, this is...
The video was from the very shop she and Iseo had hit recently—the one where she'd bought her '84 reissue Strat now sitting beside her. And the players? Obviously, her and Iseo.