Grinding for the Unplugged Groove
Music filled the practice room for the Unplugged album. The song poured out through the top-tier audio setup, built with Lee Hyein's full backing. It was calmly mellow yet sprightly— the kind that made you want to dance with your shadow against the evening sunset.
No one's noticing
More than loose graffiti
Throw away stay stay
Life's not long enough for sarcasm
Underdog justice
Listening to the song, she fell into thought for a moment. A genre she probably wouldn't have liked 'originally.' But whether it was this body's influence, or Choi Iseo's, or maybe she'd just broadened her horizons... Well, whatever. Widening her tastes was a good thing.
"The reason I called you all here—Hyeona probably told you..."
Whispers rippled among the college students: "She's talking casual? Are they that close?"
Jeong Hyeona gave an ambiguous nod-maybe-not, her body language unclear. Suyeon ignored it and pressed on.
"It's because I want to record the unplugged performance from Music Letter and release it as a digital single. I was gonna just edit the live take, but circumstances changed. So now I'm thinking, why not record it straight through as one full session."
Originally, she'd planned to hire standard pro session musicians. Not a full orchestra, but an unplugged setup with a few strings layered over the band. Practice a bit, then record like a regular album. Pay the sessions their 1-2% cut, release it—that straightforward process.
But she didn't go that route because of her own greed.
Not so much for 'higher quality music,' but...
I want that raw feel.
Iseo's words echoed: "Wouldn't it be fun to loosen up a bit?"
Surprisingly, people pick up on the performer's emotional state easily. Complex stuff like 'a man regretting his affairs while pining for his lost love' is tough, but basic 'happy' or 'sad'? Yeah, they get that.
Whatever, left 'em behind
Those guys at the reunion
Shy empty clamor
Natural and free
In that vein, she wanted this unplugged album to feel like 'friends jamming joyfully in the practice room, captured on tape.' Just like the music playing now.
You couldn't get that from one-off sessions—gather, record once, split. It needed the vibe of longtime collaborators syncing up, like Nathan East with Eric Clapton: playful, in-the-pocket grooves honed over time.
Pro sessions couldn't deliver that. Not a talent issue—cost. Even if Label Echo Sound was run by Ha Suyeon's mom, Lee Hyein, who pours money into an album with zero profit guarantee? Daily costs in the millions—no way.
So she called Hyeona's cheaper college friends, skills be damned.
"We're pretty decent too!"
"Yeah, sure, not pro-band level, but..."
Hyeona's friends laughed it off after Suyeon's comment, but they looked a bit stung—pride bruised or fired up. Enough that Seoha whispered to Iseo, "Those sisters seem pissed."
Fair enough.
Iseo was called 'pro' now, but these folks were the ones she couldn't even glance at skill-wise not long ago. Music majors don't get dismissed anywhere, and Hyeona's school was top-tier domestically. They had pride.
"Uh... Suyeon...? Is that her normal speech? Kinda like that?"
As if to prove it, the friends grilled right after Suyeon stepped out.
Iseo and Seoha gave awkward grins: "Haha... yeah, that's her. A bit... like that."
"We know she's killer on guitar..."
"Genius types are weird, right?"
"Kinda hurts, though."
The friends pouted a little, chatting like We're solid too!
"You'll see once we jam... it's tough."
"Psh, we've all done auditions!"
"Yeah."
"Audition prep was hell. Right? Nonstop practice for hours..."
Iseo watched them flex confidence, thinking: They'll learn.
Suyeon's insane skill. And her demon-lord ruthlessness.
"Y-You okay...?"
"Save me..."
Break time. Hyeona checked on her slumped friends—they looked wrecked. She figured they earned it.
No one in her music life—not even her audition teachers or profs—pushed harder than Suyeon.
"We're recording soon—don't mush the piano like that."
"Violin! Drive it harder! Ride the rhythm! When we speed up excited, you gotta follow. I said it: we're amateurs. If we're just metronome slaves, why'd I call you? Feel the playing."
"Bass—don't bury either. Separate them. They're distinct instruments. Keep the feel—why clump 'em together?"
It reminded Hyeona of their early band days. She shook her head.
She'd endured auditions, but nothing as dense or brutal as Suyeon's feedback.
Exhibit A: talented newbie bassist, barely a year in, now pro-stage ready—thanks to Suyeon.
"Short break. Coffee? What'll you have?"
Suyeon took orders and vanished. The friends erupted.
"Whoa, intense."
"Thought she was grilling grad students. Normal?"
"Nah... this is her mild side today."
"This is mild?!"
Hyeona smirked at their shock. Uninitiated had no clue.
Even pros at Juhyeon's concert got near-bombardment feedback—no pushback.
"It... used to be worse. Now... everyone's better skilled... improved, y'know."
"Early band days! Four-hour jams? Three hours straight she'd roast me. 'Don't do that, hit it like this...' Ears ringing. Even to a hobbyist with one year under belt."
"One year?!"
The friends jolted. One mumbled, then confessed sheepishly.
"Honestly, watching Iseo... thought she lacked. Figured band debut at that age meant starting young. But one year? Insane."
She sighed, vowing self-reflection.
Iseo puffed up, consoling her—till Seoha poured fuel.
"Suyeon had less than a year when we started."
Silence. Then explosion.
"No way?!"
"Possible?"
"That skill in under two years? Bull."
"Talent gap legendary."
Gushing ensued: "Thought she lived guitar since toddler," "Lessons from top session for a decade"—myths flew.
Then one muttered a bombshell.
"Wait—she gives us feedback knowing our instruments too? With her short training?"
"...Talent, I guess."
Solemn air fell. Hyeona chuckled inwardly—the exact thoughts she'd had meeting Suyeon.
People were all the same.
"Anyway! Let's nail it proper. Let the talented be talented—we do us!"
Iseo's rallying cry shattered the gloom. The room buzzed anew.
Suyeon returned coffee-laden, baffled at the vibe, scanning puzzled faces.
After that, Group Sound and Hyeona's friends practiced whenever free. Not months-deep sessions, but solid time invested.
Reason? Suyeon's words.
"Ad-libs come from comfort and ease. Rote followers can't touch it. Forced tries clash. Can't sprint before walking."
Others—staff, members—pushed: "Enough practice; record now."
Suyeon countered with that. For her 'raw,' 'joyful' unplugged vision—this wasn't enough.
They ground on per her doctrine. Even paid friends (sparingly) griped: "Money's nice, but exhausting..."
Finally, they got her nod.
"Roughly 80% there."
Not 100%, but...
"80% now?"
"100%'s a myth anyway."
Iseo muttered disbelief. Others sighed relief—Suyeon's drills made 'far off' feel real.
"We can SL-record now. Skip perfection. Book a primo studio for a day—should yield solid live."
Cheers due... but Hyeona's friends stayed quiet. Mood soured.
One 'friend' spoke up.
"We've practiced tons."
"Yeah."
"Feels wasteful—one take and done."
Iseo eyed Suyeon—nodding agreement.
Her follow-up? Gold.
"So, our school fest's soon... Wanna join our stage? Real live."