Bucket List Live Composition
"It's not exactly a song we've made… more like one we're in the process of making. Starting just now."
"What?"
Iseo responded as if that couldn't possibly make sense. Seoha and Hyeona didn't say anything, but they looked like they felt the same way.
Suyeon, however, didn't bat an eye and kept talking.
"Coming up with the initial idea… well, that wasn't until just now—it was last night. No, actually tonight. I thought of it tonight, but I finished the melody after we got here."
She spoke as calmly as if she were saying, "We had knife-cut noodles for lunch today, right? They were pretty good."
While everyone stared at her in disbelief, Kyung-min thought to himself,
They're our kids, but…
This level of skill is just ridiculous.
As someone who'd worked in the indie music scene, Kyung-min knew full well the weight of creating music. And that's precisely why he wasn't the type to buy into myths like "sudden flashes of inspiration leading to a finished song."
Songs like Guns N' Roses' Sweet Child o' Mine or Crying Nut's Let's Ride Horses were famous for being written in five minutes, but he thought that was nonsense. Sure, you could add MSG, but even that had to be done in moderation. It was hard enough to believe a melody could come together in five minutes—let alone a whole song? Absurd.
It was just the kind of clichéd joke musicians told to hype their own genius.
From his days as a manager handling countless bands, to taking on producing duties as he climbed the ranks… even after joining this label, when things got less hectic, he'd check in on bands beyond Group Sound.
His conviction only grew stronger: a musician's "genius" didn't come from some explosive bang! of talent—it stemmed from an endlessly built-up foundation.
But watching Suyeon chipped away at even that hardened belief.
Not five minutes, maybe, but a day? A few hours? Who knows. She says it like that, but she might've really just made it now. That's how she is.
A kid with zero interest in flaunting her genius. In an era where everyone desperately marketed themselves with "Our music rocks!!" or "She's a genius!!", she just did her thing quietly.
Yet her talent was so immense it shone through anyway. That was Ha Suyeon.
"Yeah, what I just played was decent. Drums and keys were fine, but the bass was kinda bland. Like, 'I just wanna do this much'—you know I hate that, right? When it's so passive, not stepping up at all… if we go halfway like that…"
Iseo, hearing that, shuddered dramatically like she was in a play, then suddenly set down her bass and flung herself flat on the floor in prostration.
"Yes! I was wrong! I'm scum deserving death! How could I make such half-assed music? I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness!!"
The onlookers burst into laughter. Seoha chuckled in disbelief, while Hyeona's face turned red even though it wasn't about her.
Under the gazes of everyone watching with amusement to see what she'd do next, Suyeon said flatly,
"Fine. You've reflected on your half-assed music, so we're good. Next time, play it better."
A collective groan of oooh rose from the crowd.
Iseo popped right back up like nothing happened, brushing off her knees.
"You're such a heartless bitch."
"Shut up and grab your instrument."
"Yessir~"
Despite the sarcastic tone, Suyeon's vibe made it clear she wasn't entertaining any backtalk. Iseo slung her bass halfway over her shoulder and charged at Suyeon, punching her playfully. Suyeon staggered like a scarecrow in the wind—"Ack!"
After the punishment, Iseo grabbed her bass properly, and music filled the air from the girls again.
The guitar melody was similar, but everything else was noticeably different. Drums and bass with more dynamics. And the keys— the texture felt totally revamped.
"Isn't it different from before?"
"Kinda feels like it… are they really making it live?"
"Nah, no way. It's gotta be all prepped."
Arms crossed as he watched, Kyung-min overheard the murmurs around him. He smirked.
Yeah, that was the natural reaction. Hardly anyone would believe it was possible. Plenty of musicians claimed they did it, though.
I get why she called it a bucket list item.
Suyeon had mentioned it offhand once: "I wanna compose a song on the spot and perform it."
If people reacted like this, it made sense to try it at least once—just to see their faces at the end.
The shoot itself went smoothly.
Playing with the gathered crowd as backdrop. They weren't pros at knowing where to emphasize or pull back, but they gave it their all anyway.
The one regret in his mind: We should've finished the song.
No rehearsal space available, and even cranking an amp was tricky in their setup. A mini amp might work in the hotel room if he didn't mind the noise, but he didn't want to disturb everyone just to chase his ideas.
So he pondered.
"I wanna do that song tomorrow."
"Dude, don't say weird shit. It's your turn—hurry up and plant."
"What's weird about it? Anyone need purple soybeans?"
"I do… can you give me some…?"
"Do I have to give 'em? Can't you just take?"
"If you don't wanna… just plant yours then…"
He sighed. What was wrong with the world?
Even basic help was a struggle, yet here they were squeezing every last advantage. What was so special about this damn Bohnanza—a board game about farming—that got them so cutthroat?
"Looks like you need it. Just take it."
"I'm good… I only have three coins anyway…"
"How about aiming for four?"
"Whoa, Yeon-su, you're so desperate."
He tilted his head back. Did he really have to hear this crap?
But the penalty for last place—"errand boy for the day"—was too brutal to risk. No choice.
"Fine, I'll throw in an extra purple. Now you've got four coins."
"Eh, that works…"
"Hey! That's supposed to help Bin only! Why give away a free coin?"
He ignored the whiny protests from the guy who barely knew the rules. First place didn't matter—what mattered was not coming last.
As long as he beat Iseo, who cared about Hyeona or Seoha…
"I told you, you shouldn't play like that."
Last place. Ignoring Iseo's taunts, he stared at the ceiling in disbelief.
His calculations were spot-on. Why'd it end like this…?
Seoha shoved him hard—"Go buy ice cream, quick"—and he was bounced out of the dorm.
A bit miffed, but the August night air was still better than Seoul's. It greeted him as he headed to the convenience store, thinking,
I really wanna do that song tomorrow. How do I finish it?
The main guitar melody was basically done. But bass, drums, keys? Still rough.
If he could just get the girls in a space where they could make noise freely, something decent would come together…
But as is, it's too plain.
The other instruments just following the guitar. Not a dealbreaker—they'd still sound good, be enjoyable.
But whether the audience enjoys it and whether the creator is satisfied? Different stories.
Maybe rough it out a bit in rehearsal, then let them handle it live…
Their usual approach: set ad-lib boundaries in practice. What was allowed up to a point, what wasn't. That's why skipping rehearsal for the free show had been a gamble.
But his new plan? Pure improv from start to finish. Rehearsal could set loose guidelines, but interpretation was up to the girls.
They had the chops—no doubt. He figured they overflowed with skill, whatever they thought.
Even free animals don't bolt the second chains are off if they've been bound too long. They test the waters first, acting leashed. Humans? Same deal.
They'd hate it, no question.
Lost in those thoughts, he entered the store. No clerk in sight. Just CCTV, a kiosk, and open access to the ice cream freezer.
Seeing this… maybe just pushing through is the way.
Back in the day? Empty store? It'd be cleaned out. Report it? Cops would tell you not to snitch on small stuff, or you'd grease palms to catch thieves. Traffic cops pulling "fines" for cars was the norm.
But now? They trusted one CCTV and maximized profits. People might deter theft better, but they offloaded it to cops for gain… whatever.
Maybe I need that mindset too.
Ice cream in hand, he unlocked the dorm door.
"Hey, I've got an idea…"
It's finally today!
After afternoon cram school. Ignoring her friends' chatter. Ditching evening classes without mom's knowledge, she grabbed dinner from a convenience store and bolted to the park for Group Sound's show.
No assigned seats at this outdoor gig—stake your spot early.
"Where are you?"
"On my way!"
Mid-sprint, a call from a school friend nagging her to hurry. Face be damned, she pumped her arms like a track star, charging up the hill.
Tourists dragging suitcases stared oddly, but who cared?
Miss this, and I'll never forgive myself.
Not long ago, she'd heard they'd done a free show after a local gig canceled. "What? Mainland folks can just hop a train or bus!" she'd yelled.
Jeju? Ship or plane only. Miss this shot, and it might never come again.
That was why model student Bu Hyeonji—never skipped cram school, never misbehaved—ditched class for Group Sound.
"You made it?"
"Huff… haha… ugh… I'm dying. I'm dead. Gone…"
"You'll live. Hurry up front. Hold my spot—I gotta grab merch."
Her friend scolded as Hyeonji caught her breath, claimed a seat, and shooed her off with, "Get me this too."
Shipping from the mainland was pricey, online everything sold out—this was her chance.
We're practically the same age.
She wondered idly. She loved Group Sound not just for the music, but because they embodied what she lacked: a free life.
Forming a band in high school? Freedom incarnate. All students, charting with their own songs—not topping, but still.
Pure girl crush.
But Suyeon-unnie's the undisputed ace.
Sorry to the others, but they lagged behind. Unavoidable.
That insane face, composing skill… even stripping those, that intangible aura of experience. On-the-spot solos driving crowds wild. Same age? Unbelievable talent.
Who could hate Ha Suyeon? Who'd rank her with the rest?
Someday she might join a better band. With even better members…
She glanced at her phone. Show starting soon.
"Hello, we're band Group Sound. Think of that as our greeting…"
"Proper intros, please!" Hyeonji shouted, sparking laughter and cheers.
"Alright, let's do it right. I'm Ha Suyeon, leader of Group Sound…"
"Our second song… well, we made it after arriving yesterday. Brand new, might be a bit rough. It's pretty improvisational, so please bear with us."
Her eyes lit up. New song! Past shows had unreleased tracks, but she'd figured that was just the debut vibe—no expectations. A live premiere? Jackpot.
Clutching her trembling hands, she nudged her friend.
"Dude, huge. You got a selfie stick?"
"Packed everything. Yours too."
Praising her prepared pal, Hyeonji mounted her phone and hit record.
The opening song? Definitely something she'd never heard before.