Unplugged Shock on Terrestrial TV
He stood there dazed for a moment after Yoo Young's performance ended amid thunderous applause and her cheerful "Thank you! Have a great day!" He clasped his hands lightly, but he couldn't stop his fingertips from trembling.
He knew better than anyone, as a fan of Yoo Young, that she was a great singer... but today's show was something special. It felt like she'd poured every ounce of power into it, unlike her usual performances—more expressiveness, higher notes. Among all the Yoo Young lives he'd seen, this one ranked in the top ten, easy.
'Did the two acts before her light a fire under her?' He scratched his head, thinking that. Come to think of it, he wasn't sure, but those guys before—the male idol group Fables or whatever, and the rapper—they'd both brought extra intensity to the stage. Even though he didn't know much about their music, he'd enjoyed it thoroughly.
He pondered that for a bit, then let it go. Probably just the reporters hyping up some "epic battle" nonsense that got to her. Still, it was kinda fun. These celebs had been in the industry for years, and they still had that competitive fire? Hilarious.
"We'll take a short break for stage prep. The next performance starts in 15 minutes~"
The endless applause finally died down, and the venue settled into a lull. People started getting up at the staff's cue. He checked his phone and hesitated. 'Should I just bounce? If I go now, I can catch the bus.'
The next act was that rock band of kids who'd done Sky Garden—a song he liked, sure, and he'd have enjoyed seeing it live, but not that badly. Rushing out now wouldn't magically finish his homework, but buses ran on schedules, and that could save him hours getting home.
He wavered, then stood to leave. They were fresh off a new single anyway; he'd catch them elsewhere. A few other audience members seemed to think the same, quietly gathering their stuff to slip out.
But what held them back was the upright piano rolling onto the stage. He wasn't a huge Group Sound fan, but Sky Garden didn't need acoustic piano, right? He scratched his head again. Something felt off— like the stage was heading in an unexpected direction, rooting his feet in place.
'Eh... what's one less hour of sleep?' He set his bag down, hoping to hit the bathroom, smoke a quick cig, and return to a ready stage.
Back inside, the crowd had thinned a bit, empty seats scattered around. The setup looked... weird. He loved music but knew zilch about gear, so he couldn't pinpoint it, but something was missing that should be there.
"Three minutes till start~ Please take your seats!"
The staff's announcement snapped him out of it. Lights plunged, a soft spotlight glowed on stage, and polite applause rose as four girls walked on from the shadows.
Their outfits were... unique. Vintage? Ethnic? Flowy and full of personality. Nothing like what he'd imagined from Sky Garden.
And another thing: excluding piano and drums, the other two carried acoustic guitars and bass—not their usual electrics.
A subtle buzz rippled through the crowd; even he noticed immediately. The girls sat and launched straight into it, no chit-chat.
A relaxed, mellow guitar strum. Piano layering softly. Drums hitting somewhere between a deep thump and a crisp tap, walking alongside. Thick, warm bass tones.
Caught off guard, he—and everyone—froze, eyes glued to the stage.
Then the bassist's voice rang out.
Unfinished homework, a turtle in the locker.
That day, I stood at the canteen, watching the rabbit dash by.
The turtle left three days ago.
Without knowing where it's gone, the shadow of the first snow that already fell will visit you once more.
The first emotion was calm. Warm and fragrant, like fresh-baked bread sliding down easy. The voice wasn't belting—it murmured drowsily, lower than any instrument, seeping into people like gentle whispers breaking apart softly.
"Ashen gray, return to me."
Spotlight out. Stage dark. The applause that followed? Definitely not polite.
While staff set five chairs up front, he checked his phone. Kim Jiyeon entered and sat.
"Alright, we've got a lot of gear this time, but let's bring out our final guests. The indie band success story! The girl band miracle! Give a big welcome to Group Sound!"
The girls emerged from the dim light and took seats. Gasps echoed as faces came into view. The woman next to him muttered, "Legend..." He agreed. They were all pretty, but the guitarist looked like she'd gone all out.
"We've met before, right?"
"Yes, we have."
After greetings, interviews kicked off. Kim Jiyeon's first question: "Last time, you had electrics. And Sky Garden, this next one Ashen Days—I love it, by the way—they're electric tracks. But today's all acoustic?"
"Yes. The stage today... well, we wanted to change things up. Show different sides of us... yeah, that's the vibe, or... that's what we thought, you know~."
She trailed off mid-word, tousling her hair in embarrassment. Laughter bubbled from the crowd, "So cute!" Kim Jiyeon cracked up too.
"Hehe, you're always adorable. Now that you're on broadcast, tell us about Sky Garden, the album, Becoming a Star?"
Song, quick talk. Repeat. Reactions grew louder. Sky Garden killed—unlike the dreamy audio rap, this live stripped instruments bare, unleashing pent-up power in the vocals. Fresh vibe; crowd went wild. He did too. This version might even be better.
"Now, our final song. Kinda bittersweet... but as they say, every meeting has its farewell."
A few yelled, "Nooo!!" "Encore!!" Laughter roared.
"We can't extend for your ears' sake. Plus, two are minors who gotta get home. Bear with us?" Kim Jiyeon grinned into her mic. More laughs.
The band settled with instruments. Lights dimmed.
"Here we go. Becoming a Star. Enjoy."
A low voice from the dark. White spotlight hits Suyeon. Mic in front. Unlike before.
Guitar kicks in. Busy fingers. Fluid melody. Calm piano. Drums whisper. Bass flows low, warm like contrabass.
Passing rusty fences, over poles, past the donut shop ahead.
Every stubborn day of routine is here.
Pencil scratches annoy for some reason, but I can't leave.
Paths ahead seem many, or maybe just one.
Lower than the bassist's voice. Everyday storytelling tone. It soothed, like a weekend evening—dim, warm house, TV glow.
Toothbrush by the sink, dried soap, foggy mirror.
In it, we might be becoming stars.
Crushed shoes, overcast sky, bus to school.
In it, we might be becoming stars.
"Becoming a star, maybe... who knows..."
Builds slowly. He gripped his hands tight. Unnameable tension. Rising vibe. Just four girls, no electrics... yet it packed the house.
Chorus hits—explosion.
Everything flips: lights, playing, mood, vocals. Like plum blossoms bursting after winter. Bare branches bloom in a blink.
And like all blooms, it fades. Quiet end. Final murmur, lingering like regret.
Stage done, show wrapped. He and the band crashed on the waiting room sofa. Short set—four songs—but they'd wrung out everything.
A pounding knock roused them. "Come in..."
"Whoa!! Insane, total smash hit!"
The PD burst in, hugging-close before backing off awkwardly. He plopped on a sofa anyway, momentum unbroken.
"Ha Suyeon, you killed it. Beyond expectations—no, I had some, but not this level. Dreamed it not."
"Ah, thank you."
"Gotta apologize. You gave the best stage, and the crowd? Total chaos."
PD chugged water, buzzing. Fair enough—the audience vibe was electric. Prior acts were solid, good reactions... but objectively, theirs topped it.
"Should I drop a press release? No clue. Uh... sorry, gotta jet. Not the time to chill."
PD vanished, idea struck. Quiet room; he sighed softly.
"All done now?"
"Yeah... pretty much."
"Ugh, thought I was gonna die. Head's ringing. Focused so hard not to screw up..."
Iseo stumbled in, clinging. He started to push her off, then didn't. Schedule was brutal enough for her whining.
Short time: acoustic rearranges, drill to mastery, endless jams. Even he pitied them. But the fruit? Sweet.
The sudden acoustic pivot? Inspired by Nirvana's MTV Unplugged—the show that flipped them from "screaming power-chord hacks" to "world's best rock band." MTV Unplugged in New York.
Like Nirvana rewriting their story, he hoped Group Sound would too. Prove no top idols, rappers, or singer-songwriters could block them.
And in his mind... they'd at least climbed from "newbie band selling 10k first-week" to "can hang with the elites."