Rain-Defying Cheers: True Art from Group Sound
Go Kyung-min returned from his call with Hyein and shared his idea with the others.
"As far as I know, there's an outdoor amphitheater with a roof in the nearby park. Well, it's not exactly a proper venue—more like a stage with a shelter inside the park."
The moment he spoke, everyone seemed to catch on to what he was getting at. He drove the point home.
"We're already committed to full refunds. That's just reality. But if we stop there, the fans who bought tickets get their money back, but they lose the chance to see the show. So why not compensate them with a performance?"
Mindful of the documentary crew, he softened his language a bit. Still, his team members—seasoned pros—nodded after a quick think.
"Sounds good. I think that's the way to go... Where exactly is it?"
At Kyung-min's question, he pointed it out on the map. Luckily, it wasn't too far.
"I'll talk to the hall rental team, the venue staff, and the city office. In the meantime, Manager Jeong, take Park Daeri and Suyeon to check the stage size. If it looks doable, rent equipment fast, notify about the cancellation, and direct people there at the same time."
"Got it."
Jeong Yu-young's reply. Kyung-min nodded and headed straight out of the lodging. As she bustled about preparing to leave, he woke the other girls to brief them on the situation.
"You think that's possible?"
The girls weren't due to wake for another three or four hours, so they were still half-asleep. He explained with all his energy until they got it. Seoha's question was the result.
"Possible? Of course."
"But that hall seats about a thousand. The sound setup and setlist were all tailored for it. Switching to an outdoor stage out of nowhere..."
"It'll be tough."
"Tough? In my opinion, even you couldn't pull this off. No rehearsal time, right?"
Rehearsals were non-negotiable before every show. You never knew what might go wrong. It was an ironclad rule for anyone who performed on stage. Sound checks, spotting deviations from the plan—rehearsals were essential, and Group Sound had always stuck to it.
But not today. No permits, maybe no rental, equipment delays, no setup time.
A 'non-venue' in 'rainy weather' with 'no rehearsal'—the worst of the worst.
"I think... it'd be better to just refund and move on than disappoint everyone. It's not that I doubt you, but realistically, this is impossible..."
Seoha's tone was genuinely worried, unlike her usual self. But he cut in gently.
Impossible? Sure. Toss the practice, the planned stage, start from scratch with nothing. It looked grueling.
But he rejected that.
"We can do it. Not just me—we. Compared to everything we've been through, this is nothing."
He reached out, gathering the others' hands. They trembled slightly. They always acted cool, aloof, fine... but they were still kids. Eighteen, nineteen. Not even twenty yet. Unfamiliar crises sent them into panic.
"Trust me. Today, we'll give the audience the absolute best show."
The day of Group Sound's long-awaited concert, fingers crossed by fans everywhere. But a morning text crashed his mood.
'What the hell? Leak right at the hall I'm going to on the day I'm going? The world's screwing me over.'
He wasn't a diehard Group Sound fan. He'd heard all their music, but no paid fan club, no hunting down every live clip for fan content. Just a music lover.
Still, he'd splurged on tickets for accessibility. Plays and musicals came with subsidies sometimes, but singer or band concerts? Rare as hell in his town. Local kids playing music he'd heard? Had to go.
'Was gonna become a fan if they really came. Canceled after all.'
He sighed, phone facedown on the desk. Back to work, then.
But another buzz. Spam? No—the screen showed something unexpected.
1. Date/Time: ...
'Free concert?'
"Everything okay, Daeri?"
His female coworker next to him noticed his double-take.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, nothing big. Hey, Kim, you know Group Sound?"
"Group Sound... Yeah, heard of 'em."
"That song? Sky Garden."
"Oh, that one! Those kids?"
He nodded.
"Their name's Group Sound, huh. Not singers—idols?" Kim muttered.
"They were supposed to play here today. I was gonna go."
"Cool! Sounds fun."
"But leak canceled it."
"What? So you miss out?"
"They're doing a free one at that park outdoor stage instead. Come if you're free."
After work, he changed and headed to the park. Sun still lingered. Drizzle added atmosphere. Hot, but bearable in the rain.
'Damn, crowded.'
Near the outdoor stage, crowds milled. Minimal barricades on stage, people under the roof on chairs or blankets.
'A show here?'
He folded his umbrella, approached. Amid busy staff, four girls with instruments—must be Group Sound, testing sounds.
"Hello."
He sat on a chair. Soon, greetings amid completed setup. But applause and words drowned in rain patter.
"Sorry for the rough conditions. Sudden leak at the hall... But life's full of curveballs, right? Even if we miss the official concert, grateful for this special meet-up. Depends on how you see it."
Rain intensified. Speakers strained. Outside, sunset hues on shimmering drops.
The girl with the guitar glanced at the roof, shrugged.
"Let's start. Please listen to Becoming a Star."
Acoustic Becoming a Star. Familiar, but different. Live vibe? Or...
Rusted fences, past poles,
donut shop circles ahead—
mundane days linger here.
As the song progressed, he realized.
Keyboard led—beautiful, like a solo. Guitar supported subtly, bass and drums just present. Yet full, not empty.
Why?
'...The rain!'
Fierce or soft, random patters on the roof canvas. Plops, trickles. Faint but audible under shelter.
The girls wove it into the performance.
Toothbrush by sink, dried soap,
grimy mirror reflects—
we might become stars.
Bass and drums joined in verse two. Heat built in the calm tune, atmosphere boiling. Claps rose; he scanned the side.
Crowds swelled, hooked by the song...
After a few songs, he stretched, eyeing the crowd. Way bigger than planned. More than ticket holders, ages beyond their 20s-30s core fans.
'Free show drew randos.'
Good, though. National tour aimed broad. Early exposure here? Fine.
"Miss!"
"Yes?"
An old man by the barricade interrupted his thoughts. Staff rushed; he stayed put, raising his voice.
"Got a song I wanna hear. Few singers here—mind one?"
"Uh... sure, if I know it."
No need, but he agreed. The man named it—familiar, guitar-only doable.
"Hang on, sir."
He grabbed the mic.
"Short break, but a request came in. I know it, so happy to play. Okay?"
Affirmative murmurs. He recalled the melody. Old tune, from his fiery guitar days.
"Hey, this guy's got taste!"
Guitar strum—recognizers clapped. Reaction from outskirts, raincoats and umbrellas.
A little further, a slower walk...
End. He stopped, eyed the old man. Teary-eyed.
Why the request? No clue. He just hoped it healed.
"Next up: Perhaps There. Enjoy."
Next day. A local article felt like the spark.
What is a performance? Showing music, dance, theater. It delights our eyes and ears, enriches life. But sadly, regions lack this—infra and profits. Unavoidable. Artists eat too.
But yesterday, right here. I witnessed true art in them...