The Bird in Front of the House

A live tour song called The Bird in Front of the House, a title unfamiliar to most. But people paid more attention to the original composer than the name itself. Seo Myeongjeon. The mentor of Ha Suyeon featured in the documentary. He hadn't directly taught her, but he'd been the one to set her on the path to music. He'd taught guitar to a wayward delinquent teen and given purpose to what had been a mere pastime for her. And when it came to pure guitar skill, he was one of Korea's absolute best... or so the testimonies kept coming from this legendary musician.

Despite such a grand reputation, the song that rang out wasn't particularly polished. You could definitely feel the weight of years gone by. Beneath the old-fashioned melody played on guitar lay a faint undercurrent of melancholy. Nothing else—just guitar and drums carrying the tune.

The bass entered wordlessly. Just the root notes ringing out, clearly unprepared. Over that, Suyeon played a short guitar solo. Somehow, it carried the patina of time. Like peeling back layers of accumulated years.

The solo restarted, and this time Suyeon's voice filled the air. A hum without discernible meaning. But the raw pathos within it struck the audience straight to the heart. Past and present. The man who wrote it and the one singing it now.

The ad-libs and solos grew fiercer. As if venting long-held grudges. As if spewing out the emotions bottled inside. On cue, blue stage lights bathed the scene, manifesting the song's regret in vivid hue. And in that fleeting moment, people saw it. The ephemeral blue light. Even as she poured it into song, Suyeon's movements intensified with uncontainable emotion. Tears scattered from her eyes, refracting the light in sharp, brilliant flashes. For just a brief instant.

"That morning, what I saw... might've been the bird in front of the house..."

The song ended. The crowd responded not with words, but thunderous applause. Some things are best met with silence.

"Alright, last song."

The applause continued as his emotions settled. He forced the words out with effort. Scattered voices from the audience cried, "You're okay!" He had no idea what was okay about any of it.

I didn't have to do that. Got too caught up in the moment.

Something he wouldn't have done before. Craving acknowledgment of his existence, seeking comfort... in an atmosphere where no one could object. Like begging for consolation, demanding cheers for Seo Myeongjeon's song. Seo Myeongjeon never would have done it. But he had.

"This last one is a song I made during the live tour. Some of you might've heard it on YouTube. It'll be a bit different from that version, though."

Fresh cheers erupted. He cleared his throat and glanced at the bandmates. Iseo's face looked ready to burst into tears. Figured as much, he thought, turning away. But surprisingly, the other two were in a similar state.

He set the mic back on the stand for a moment.

"Last song. Let's pull ourselves together and give it everything."

"...Yeah!"

Iseo and the others nodded with bright smiles. He signaled the session musicians, then waited for the drummer's cue. Sticks down, guitar in. As the flashy intro drew gasps from the crowd, he leaned into the mic again.

The lyrics he'd written captured his feelings perfectly. Some netizen called it "a song regretting and reflecting on Ha Suyeon's wild past." But it felt a little different. Or maybe the same, in truth.

From the moment he woke in that hospital bed. From deciding to enjoy music again, he'd done everything he wanted. Form his own band, make his own music... Busking. Live shows. Trips to Japan, recognition from foreigners. Impromptu solos, on-the-spot originals. Tours, concerts. So many things had unfolded since rising from that bed.

The audience, having picked up the chorus, started singing along. He strummed his guitar, hiding his surging emotions, lost in thought.

I wanted this too. People singing my song, and me just listening. Impossible in my old life. If someone had told me it'd happen... I'd have called it a lie.

He hadn't believed in his future. Because he'd given up. Accepted his limits. He'd lived as prodigy, genius, ascetic, prodigal, penitent—all of it. After abandoning everything, came this second chance. He'd lived it fully. Achieving the unachieved. Doing the undone. Things he'd never dreamed of, as Seo Myeongjeon.

But now...

He'd realized it long ago. Things Seo Myeongjeon never would have done. Yet they crept into his life unbidden. And he'd accepted them without discomfort. Still, he'd clung to awareness. To Seo Myeongjeon. Memories weighed unconsciously; lingering attachments held consciously. He wanted to remain an independent Seo Myeongjeon. Duties unfinished. Paths untrod.

But now...

Maybe it's time to let go of that lingering.

Humming from the fans. A sound he'd never heard before. Unimaginable in those lonely days when no one would speak for him. Listening to it, he thought.

He'd dreamed so much, achieved it all. But the sun sets, and the road is long. Time to do what must be done. Admit it.

Someone once said: after a great event, you can't go back. He couldn't. No returning to before. To Seo Myeongjeon. To that past.

No, he didn't want to. It had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been sad. Talent falling short. Unrecognized. He'd howled at the night sky, blamed others. Until his last breath, he refused to admit it, but his life back then was filled with sorrow. From the day he grabbed his guitar and fled home, everything had been wrong from the first button.

Denying the regression, he'd endured the sadness. Pretending it was nothing. Silently bearing those years chasing unfulfilled dreams. At the end of that life, and reborn...

He'd reached this stage. Having achieved it all, overcome the sorrow. At this end, the old heart no longer beats. Duties done. Like a flower falling, knowing its time. Time to replace the old heart.

So now, he let go of lingering. Of Seo Myeongjeon. Admitting his existence was no longer independent. Accepting what had seeped in unconsciously, against his will. Ha Suyeon's memories, actions, habits... all of it.

He looked at his hands again. The same as before. But somehow different; he flexed them experimentally. The guitar cut out suddenly; heads turned.

"You okay?"

He smiled at Iseo's question, resuming play. Unchanged. Maybe even better.

"No problem."

"Then why?"

"Missed a peak for a sec."

A tsk tsk tsk from the drums. He hammered on, flipping his middle finger with his right hand. Seoha stuck out her tongue in response. He gave a wry smile and kept playing. The guitar flowed like water, fluid and elegant. The melody line revived the crowd's cheers after the brief stutter.

Amid the roar... Suyeon smiled faintly.

That doesn't mean some massive change...

Nothing much would change. Mindset, maybe? Long-term impact, sure... but not really. Arms crossed, Suyeon watched the greetings in the waiting room.

Band and sessions had already exchanged farewells. Sessions swapping contacts, saying how great everyone was.

"Great work!!"

"You too!!"

"After-party for anyone!!"

"We're in!!"

Jeong Yuyoung appeared like a rolling savior, corporate card raised high. Sessions and staff swarmed like worshippers.

"Man, that was exhausting."

Iseo approached. Face screaming It's over! Nothing can stop me now!! or Praise me!! Suyeon wondered if she wanted spoon-fed compliments or what.

"You forgetting something?"

"Like what?"

"Praise for this body."

"You ever hear office workers getting praised for doing their jobs? Maybe 'good work,' but why praise the obvious?"

"She's just messed up in the head."

"Hey! That's harsh!"

Iseo chased Seoha, fists clenched. Soon, an "Aaaack!" echoed. Suyeon watched Seoha grab Iseo's waist, hurling her onto the sofa. Maybe she should learn wrestling?

"Anyway, it's finally over."

Once settled, Iseo said. Suyeon replied, "Good work," patting her shoulder. Iseo froze, sniffing dramatically.

"She's crying!"

"Am not!"

The touching mood dissolved under Seoha's rapid roast. Hyeona scolded Seoha gently as Iseo spoke up again.

"Tour's done."

"Yeah."

"So... no more to do?"

"What're you talking about? Tons left."

The tour finale was Jangchung Gymnasium, but his original ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠goal was Jamsil... or Gymnasium solo concert. This tour was just the stepping stone.

"Solo concert next... and gotta go where you wanna go."

"Me? Where?"

Suyeon chuckled. The place she always sang about wanting, yet clueless now. Too distant to even target?

But surprisingly close, Suyeon thought.

"Time to break into Japan."