The Birth of the "Dae-yo High School Girl" Phenomenon

Ever since that day Ha Suyeon became the Jesus Christ Superstar of the live session classroom, Ayoon had been waiting impatiently for Taylor'd to appear on Music Letter. If that story from the cafe was true, even as a side act, her girl was making it onto a flagship program from a major broadcaster. "This is insane. How is any of this even possible?" Group Sound's—more precisely, Ha Suyeon's—growth trajectory was utterly unbelievable.

Thinking of it in idol terms, since Korea was idol territory: What idol debuts after just a year of vocal and dance training, smashes audition shows, and lands on major broadcasts within that same year? Under two years in, they'd still be grinding in practice rooms or just starting to get buzz as promising rookies. Even the hardcore fans who stan pre-debut trainees would dismiss them as "nowhere near ready yet."

"That's just how much of a genius my girl is." After pondering how to rationally explain these "impossible" feats, Ayoon decided to chalk it up to her girl's sheer talent. Geniuses were a good thing—what was the problem? Her girl was that badass, and her own eye for talent was equally sharp. That was that.

After days of waiting, Ayoon finally heard the news: Taylor'd was on that week's Music Letter. From then on, time crawled at a snail's pace. She canceled plans with friends, ditched the trip to her parents' house, and spent the week in pious study and constant worship. Then, on that Friday at 10:50 PM, she fired up the smart TV she'd only ever used as a YouTube playback machine, finally putting it to its true purpose.

She tuned to KBS 2, loaded a tray with snacks like an offering, snapped a photo, and posted it online. Praying Ha Suyeon wouldn't get hate. "Finally...!" The family-friendly rating flashed, followed by the logo: Kim Jiyeon's Music Letter. The familiar set and opening screen from her childhood viewing marathons appeared—back when she never dreamed of fandom.

The camera swept the audience size, panned around, then slid smoothly to the stage and host.

Kim Jiyeon handled the opening with practiced ease. Ayoon wanted to scream, Forget that—show us Taylor'd and my Suyeon!! But her inner shouts went unheard, so she endured.

Jiyeon chatted leisurely, outlining the show's lineup.

Taylor'd entered to cheers. Ayoon waved her imaginary lightstick, staring holes through the screen. Kim Cheol-yeon ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and the old-timers filed in, but oddly, the guitarist stayed off-camera. Only her footsteps from the back were caught—no face, no full body.

"What the hell!" Time to protest! How do you invite someone and treat them like this? Furious, Ayoon opened Twitter. Her countless comrades (easy to count, really) were raging, urging posts to the KBS 2 board.

But the flames died down with the first song, starting sans intro. In the bridge—designed for vocal fireworks—the shot deliberately framed just below Suyeon's neck. Ayoon breathed a sigh of relief. This teaser buildup meant they weren't burying her.

As predicted, Jiyeon's question prompted the reveal: rare blue-tinged eyes for an East Asian, long black hair cascading in waves, and below it, a beauty with a frosty aura. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠A face worth gasping over. Ayoon whipped out her phone, snapped the TV, and tweeted.

No time for edits—she had to keep watching.

The camera pulled back for group shots amid Cheol-yeon and Jiyeon's banter. Suyeon stood expressionless, staring at the floor—until the question turned to her, and her face lit up.

"Holy shit!" Was this for real? Daeyo! Ayoon nearly flatlined, barely holding it together. But the blows kept coming—not forced cuteness, but genuine efforts to soften her formal "imnida" and "seumnida" endings into something more high-school-girl "eyo" vibe. Pure otaku-explosion material.

Other gems: sulking into blank mode when it wasn't her turn, brightening instantly when it was. Talking off-camera, oblivious to its position. Or in serious segments:

Her "yo" endings vanished in gravity. No excuses even when given time—just reflection. And in her skill showcase, instead of flashy solos proving "guitarist," she played Group Sound's Days of Gray, plugging the band:

Her mouth twisting as "eyo" placement baffled her. All utterly lovable.

Short summer break over, Myeongjeon fanned himself relentlessly, trudging past the school gate to class. Kids he passed grinned oddly. Puzzled by the vibe, he tilted his head and opened the classroom door.

"Whoa! You're here-eyo!"

"Huh?"

Greetings from the trio and others. They'd clustered watching a video, then mobbed him chanting weird endings.

"What're you kids up to."

"Watching something fun-eyo."

"Why the speech?"

"Dunno-eyo lolol haha~"

Clueless, he sat. They shoved a TV recording at him—Kim Jiyeon's Music Letter, his recent appearance.

"Already out? Wasn't it just filmed."

"You monitor it yet-eyo?"

"Who got slapped? Why talk like that?"

"Lolollol so funny-eyo hahaha~"

Giggling erupted. Curious about the fuss, Myeongjeon played his segment.

Now he remembered: trying to soften speech for "high school girl" image. But this edit...

"Finally watched-eyo hehe lololol DYINGGGG!!!!"

"Nice to meet you-eyo~ I'm Ha Suyeon-eyo~ Whatcha up to-eyo~ Band stuff-eyo~ Name's Group Sound-eyo~"

Girls behind chanted "Dae-yo~" while jumping. Myeongjeon trembled, phone in grip. How? Seo Myeongjeon, reduced to this absurdity? And Dae-yo High School Girl title? Over a million views? Did a million Koreans have that much free time? It spread school-wide. What internet sorcery? At least warn the talent! Making fools of people. But he couldn't rage—just shuddered silently as friends teased, vowing to rehearse "modern high school girl" perfectly next time.

"Hello."

"Ah~ long time no see-eyo."

Back at Juhyeon's practice space. Juhyeon, mid-work, greeted the entering Myeongjeon.

"Huh? No weird speech."

Myeongjeon answered with silence, face blank. Juhyeon chuckled awkwardly, averting eyes. Talk resumed—mostly business.

"How've things been? You paused activities for a month. Starting with Cheol-yeon hyung? Band collab?"

"No. Just filling in for them... Band's taking a break. Keyboardist's prepping for arts college entrance."

"Right~ you're all high schoolers. Keep forgetting 'cause of the skills. With that talent, arts schools should roll out the red carpet."

"Looks easy from outside, but the kids worry."

Chatting recent events—YouTube this, Dae-yo High School Girl that.

"Wanted fame through music, not some bizarre clip."

"Fame's fame, anyway."

"Yeah... true. Still, this? What'll people think of me?"

That you're a high school girl, Juhyeon thought, but held back. Suyeon clearly soaked up her old master's influence.

"Anyway... Band's quiet now. Figured I'd promote it, maybe ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hit YouTube channels."

"YouTube's great. Our channel...?"

"Already did that." Arms crossed, rejecting sharply. To shed the stupid image, needed serious music channels with big audiences. Emails offered options, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but connections were better.

"Rep for Group Sound or solo. Serious music talk to ditch this 'dumb' vibe... Any good channels?"

Juhyeon pondered, staring ceiling. After a stifling pause, he looked down.

"One channel comes to mind... But not sure if you can get on. Don't know 'em well myself..."