Sternstunde Ignites the Pit
The metal band's set had just wrapped up. He stepped off the stage with a flag draped over his shoulders, thoroughly satisfied. Sure, he was drenched in sweat and feeling gross even though the shows weren't over yet, but he'd finally gotten a proper slam in after so long. This was what made it a rock fest. 'Who’s next? The sub-headliner for the main stage…' As he walked, he recalled it was Group Sound, the girls who were all the rage lately. They had the chops to be sub-headliners and the fans loved them, but for his kind of fun, it felt a bit off. Their songs were too tame for wild jumping, slamming, or moshing.
Thinking that, he entered the main stage area. The crowd was packed tight—everyone must've flocked here—flags waving huge. He greeted people making way for him bit by bit, heading toward the slam zone where other flags clustered. Just then, as the show seemed about to start, the guitarist grabbed the mic.
"Hello. I'm Ha Suyeon."
'That outfit though…' Techwear with frills and thigh-high socks? Girl group or rock band? Her hybrid style drew all eyes as she continued leisurely.
"Some of you have been waiting ages, others are seeing us for the first time. Some know our music, some don't. But we'll make sure everyone enjoys the show."
It sounded more like an old crooner greeting a ballad stage than a rock band. "Please listen to Sky Garden."
But that impression drowned in the roaring waaaah!.
A bouncy bass slap kicked things off. It was that song he'd heard a ton—Sky Garden's intro. 'Their signature hit, and they open with it?'
Even peeking out late at night, something floats far in the sky, no matter how hard I stare, I can't make it out
"Paper crane, ring doughnut, and sky garden!"
The first-song sing-along exploded. While the guitarist waved to egg it on, the bassist picked furiously, belting out lyrics. Despite the tricky rhythm, the crowd nailed every part without missing a beat. He thought their popularity was insane, but also, 'They've got way more than this— that much confidence?'
Usually, hits save for the climax. But Group Sound led with theirs.
A sky garden just floating there, meaningless, and I keep climbing endlessly toward it
"My feelings for you! The flowing years! They'll all totter and collapse on the sand!"
A deafening sing-along rattled his ears. He wondered: Hype the crowd this early—what's coming later? Most acts fizzle, but these girls…
Toothbrush by the sink, dried-up soap, mirror stained with grime, in that reflection
"We might!! Become stars!!"
Next was Becoming a Star, not quite matching Sky Garden but a solid hit. The sing-along erupted fiercely; fans including Ayoon beamed with joy. 'My little band' from yesterday now commanded rock fest chants.
'But cranking the tempo this fast?' Ayoon wondered. She didn't know fests well, but knew Group Sound had few songs. Popular ones, sure, but a 70-minute set? They'd improvise fillers later?
"We might! Become! Stars!"
Becoming a Star ended, flowing straight into the next fast track. Ayoon clapped amid the whirlwind but noticed: Not just live energy—the tempo, pitch, rhythm… everything felt different from home listening.
Mid-set now. He started bobbing, eyeing the stage. 'No clue anymore.'
Sky Garden, Becoming a Star, Belmont Glass Bottle, Leaping That Street, Ashen Days. Their big reps poured out early. Reactions dipped, signaling fan-only deep cuts ahead—the rock fest killer, 'our songs only' time.
Yet he couldn't stop grooving. Why? Their stuff wasn't hype, dancey, or smashable fun. But something pulled him.
'Something's coming.'
Head couldn't name it, body felt it. Tempo surged. The cooling vibe felt like lava's skin—thin crust over boiling depths. The crowd's mood exactly.
Instinctively, he raised his flag. Flags drifted his way, known and unknown. He nodded to familiar faces, carving space for a slam fit.
Then, a bass riff he'd never heard. From that chewy slap tone to heavy, massive now. Lows physically shoving from the stage. Then the call: " Sternstunde!!"
Drums thundered, distortion crashed. Mind said same-old, body reacted different. The atmosphere shifted—like a frog missing boiling water, the stage had transformed.
'This isn't that song?' Ayoon thought. Slow, melancholic fave from Plastic Nostalgia EP. For sinking into gloom. Now, roaring guitars, double tempo, pounding drums, rumbling lows, effects. Crisp vocals and riffs atop. What was happening?
"Jump! Jump! Jump!"
The 'donut crew' singing sweetly at start were now zealots leaping endlessly, ignoring exhaustion. Ayoon ditched her thoughts, joined the jumps. Felt good.
"Everyone! Catch your breath. Almost last song time-wise!"
"Nooo!!"
Bassist laughed. "Some might not know it! Album exclusive! But wanted to try live. Please listen… Ilmodo Won (Day Dusk Far Road)."
He perked up. That offliner-only track he'd craved—guitar solo legendary.
The day fades, the road stretches far, I walk backward, getting my tasks done
Stage hushed instantly. Subtle atmosphere layered. Panting crowd paused; fans flashed signature moves. Quiet guitar strum. Vocals overlaid.
Even if these hands lose strength, even if I can't do what must be done, until they shine brilliantly across countless times beyond
"Na na na, na na, na na na…"
Humming from guitar mic, not bass. Signal to join? Repeated twice, then crowd voices took over. Hands rose-fell with beat, swelling bit by bit.
"Na na na, na na, na na na."
Guitar stopped. Keys too. Just drums/bass marking time, crowd chant.
No time for questions—stage shout: "Everyone ready?!"
"Yes!!"
"Voice too quiet!! What?!"
"YES!!!!"
"Once more!!! What?!"
"YES!!!!!!!!"
"Good!! Now, follow Conductor Ha Suyeon's lead…"
Power stroke boomed over arpeggios, crouching bodies naturally. Knees bent, heads low. Grooving, bracing. Slam fits widened. Crowd receded. Pit-dwellers tensed.
Suddenly, instinct hit: Next beat. It's coming. Calves tensed, toes gripped. Glancing up, everyone same. For real now. Almost…
Then, drum storm like a gale.
"Uwaaangaaangaaaak!!"
Guitar tore speakers. Crowd roar overwhelmed him. Sitters leaped desperately; pit slammed full-force. Bomb-blast energy engulfed.
Drained but euphoric crowd. 'Skip main headliner?' some thought.
But lingering guitar pulled them up. Zombie-like, they formed massive circle pits amid cheers.
"One! Two! Three! Four! Jump! Jump! Don't stop!"
Bassist's roar and guitar melody herded the spent crowd like cobra charmers.
Group Sound's set ended.
Was gonna head home but now I'm wiped out resting. Can't even watch sub-head so fucking exhausting
The vibe plunged sharply. Not a flop or disaster—just too good. Dopamine-junkie crowd, rampaging like on drugs, snapped back to reality.
One more reason: "Everyone!! Our live tour's coming soon!! Please show lots of love!! Thanks!! Had a blast today!!"
After exhausting legs to jelly, that closer. 'Group Sound tour soon.'
Planted the thought: 'Soon means tickets now, right?'
So instead of pitying the sub-headliner, they slumped yelling, "Yo where to book Group Sound tour?"
Perfectly timed, the tour booking post hit communities, memed as 'Group Sound Nationwide Live Tour'—hitting big/small cities nationwide.
Just as Go Kyungmin had scripted.