Pilot Broadcast Phenomenon
He plopped down on the sofa with a canned beer in hand. Ignoring his wife's shout of "Dust storm!" he chugged a sip and snatched the remote.
The very program everyone had been hyping up for today's broadcast. Band of Guitarists, was it? His office band buddies had been losing their minds: "You have to watch this!" As an amateur guitarist himself, he had some interest, but no real intention of tuning in. Still, with all the fuss from friends and one of his favorite guitarists supposedly appearing... he'd even wrestled the remote from his wife to prep for viewing.
"Oppa, whatcha watching?"
"Guitarists playing."
"Ugh... can't you skip the band crap? No time to watch our son."
"It's only once a week."
"Rock music—nothing but shitty songs, blasting it day and night... Noisy mess."
"Told you before. Drop it."
He cut off his wife's nagging and picked up his phone. KakaoTalk pings from bandmates: [Starting!]
Buddy1: Starting!
Watching those, he wondered just how much inspiration the pros' playing could spark in him.
"Can't you turn it down?"
"Then go to the room."
Another song wrapped up. He snapped curtly at his wife's complaint, then fired off a KakaoTalk reply.
Him: That level doable?
Buddy2: Like 10 years of grinding.
Buddy1: 10 yrs lol we'll all be dead n buried
Buddy3: By then Yunhwan hyung couldn't drum lol
Buddy4: 10 yrs for that level? Fast af?
All: Fr
Guitarists of all ages, from 20s to 60s. Swapping songs, throwing in ad-libs, sticking to the script. No big expectations, but something eye-opening hit him. Scenes like, Whoa, you play it like that? Familiar songs he'd practiced made it hit harder. New possibilities unfolding.
"That's supposed to be good?"
"It is. Would take me 10 years."
"10 years? Bullshit. For that?"
You don't get it till you try, he thought, setting his phone down to watch. With time running low, highlights were coming. That good, huh? He'd boasted to his wife, but even he wondered about the next act.
Ha Suyeon. Leader and guitarist of Group Sound, scorching up Korea's music scene. He dug "Sky Garden" and "Becoming a Star," but the insane online hype? Posts on his fave forums like Mule claiming [Korea's best guitarist of the 2020s is already here]? Skeptical.
He tuned into the MC.
"Please welcome guitarist Ha Suyeon! Big applause!"
Thunderous claps. VIP treatment—backing band and prior guitarist onstage as she sat down.
"Whoa, an idol? Idols too?"
"Nah, just a guitarist kid."
"That little thing plays guitar?"
Ignoring his wife's chatter, he kept watching. Recent updates. Prep stories. Song reveal.
Unfamiliar tune. Never heard it. Music kicked off anyway—drumstick count-in, upbeat melody. More hum than vocals, but lively drums, bass, spot-on leads covered it. His wife tapping rhythm faintly proved it.
"Whoa, this slaps?"
Solo time, zoom on Ha Suyeon's right hand. Thumb, index, middle—no pick, pure fingerpicking. He gawked. Fingerstyle doable, sure—but that pro-level tone? Like she's lived on it forever?
Song seemed done... but others faded, guitar roared front. Fingers dancing the neck. Rhythmic rushes, sudden pulls back, dizzying speed into swaying bends. Everyone jumped, danced, clapped—bass, rhythm guitar, drums, keys, MC, crowd, even cams. Lead guitarist Ha Suyeon bounced wildly, vibe infectious sans sound. Shock: zero wobble. Studio-perfect. Climax peaked, finale dropped.
He glanced at the clock unconsciously. Over 10 minutes gone. KakaoTalk frozen. Time stopped vibe.
"What? Time flew."
Not just him. Silent wife through it all now buzzed, prepping something, then hit him:
"How long to get that good?"
"...Never, dead or alive."
"Then practice till you wake up from the grave."
His chest tightened, then clicked: Keep the band going. Thanks, Ha Suyeon. You cleansed my ears and saved my home...
Wind back the clock—to right after that day's performance, backstage waiting room. Post-set greetings? Endless handshake demands. "How?!" Fingerpicking origins? Learned Sultan from Seo Myeongjeon? Old blues tribute band collab? He left "Practice" soundbites, tabled the rest. Too many asks.
But tabled ≠ no. Calls kept coming.
"Yes, that'd be tough right now. I'm in a band too. Yeah. Think it over... Got it. Kinda busy, call back later? Yes. Understood. Come in."
"What?"
Iseo's question post-hangup. He sighed instead.
Daily calls since. Not one pest—most from the show, referrals, viewers inquiring. All different, no "Stop calling!" nuke.
"Regret doing that show."
"Workaholic's curse—can't quit, shakes without it, hunts more jobs..."
Glared at leisurely-teasing Seoha, sipped coffee.
Minus annoyances, broadcast crushed: YouTube views spiked, "Sky Garden"/"Becoming a Star" charts climbed (bonus: Dire Straits/Mark Knopfler Korean buzz). Best: recognition boom. Bus rides? Constant spotters. Photos galore. Like now.
"Uh, e-excuse me! Ha Suyeon guitarist, right?!"
"Ah, yes. What can I—"
Set coffee down, turned with max smile. Iseo burst laughing at his face. He snuck a hand under table, pinched her thigh—firm, so gripped hard. "KYAAACK!!"
"G-Gasp! Wh-What hap—"
"Nah, nothing. Photo maybe?"
"Yes!!"
Three now. Stood, snapped pics one-by-one. One hardcore Group Sound fan, owned Premium—full member shot, autographs. (Iseo tossed a keychain souvenir.)
"Broadcast power's insane. Barely anyone watches TV now?"
"True... but they upload to YouTube too..."
Kids chattered. He half-listened, fired up YouTube for fun. Eyes caught a vid: familiar face, English title.
"What the hell is this?"