A Dreamlike Echo

No fancy costume—just a black long-sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black slacks. Her hair was styled in a half-up, half-down look that felt effortlessly natural. Suyun walked out with steady, quiet steps and picked up her guitar without saying a word. Amidst the thick, inexplicable tension hanging in the air, she immediately began to play.

It was the intro to Floating Garden, a melody any fan would recognize instantly. Yet, the atmosphere was entirely different. Where had the change begun? The tempo felt cut in half. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The sound echoed with a deep, vast resonance, as if she were performing at the peak of a mountain range. Beneath it all lay a faint, almost imperceptible, yet impossible-to-ignore white noise. The tone itself felt completely transformed. It was far too dreamlike to be the Floating Garden they knew, pushing the song's inherent shoegaze atmosphere to its absolute limit.

Then, without warning, her voice broke in, starting right from the highlight.

As the audience's eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, something began to come into view. Smoke. It wasn't from anything burning, but rather the low-lying dry ice used for stage effects. The mist crept low, swirling and spreading until it began to swallow the seating area, while some of it drifted up into the air.

As the song faded out on a lingering note, the audience found themselves instinctively counting the beat. Driven by the belief that something was about to happen... One, two, three, four.

What followed was the hiss of more smoke being released, accompanied by a crisp, upbeat drum line. It wasn't Floating Garden... but Becoming a Star, played with a soft, dreamlike texture.

Finally, a hand-drawn animation in the style of Floating Garden began to play on the massive screen. It was a video that not a single fan in the venue had ever seen before. A true world premiere.

"Waaaaah!!"

It felt like their original sound, yet somehow different. It felt cheerful, yet it wasn't. It wasn't bright, but rather pretending to be bright. It was a dreamy, enigmatic sound, like staring up at a purple sky at sunset, unable to fathom its depths.

Suddenly, hundreds of laser beams pierced through the thick shroud of smoke. Though blurred by the mist, the flashes of light left a sharp, undeniable impression on the audience. There wasn't a single stage light illuminating the band. The only light sources were the animation playing on the screen and the lasers. Group Sound continued to play with their backs to the light, delivering a dreamy, ethereal sound that differed from their usual style.

Whoa... this is legendary right from the start.

A part-time venue worker, who had been moving around the floor to film, glanced back at the stage and thought to himself. He had heard they were great live, but he hadn't expected anything like this.

Some singers treated a live performance as merely a stage to sing songs. They would throw in a few stage effects, add some basic direction, throw in an ad-lib, and call it a day. If they sang well after that, they were praised for their live skills. That was the general public perception.

But what was unfolding before his eyes was on an entirely different level. The white noise humming through the venue. The continuous billows of smoke. The brilliant lasers and the silent stage lights. Even the animation on the screen—mysterious in its meaning, yet beautifully drawn and captivating to watch. Everything was meticulously designed to pull the audience into complete immersion.

And from what he could see, it was working perfectly. Even though the first song had ended, the crowd sat in a daze, unable to even think of clapping or cheering.

With that opening, the concert truly began to race forward. There was none of the usual banter or talk sessions that Group Sound would normally have. The breaks between songs were kept to an absolute minimum. It was as if they were saying, We want you to fully experience this moment without any distractions.

This effort wasn't just limited to the production elements; it extended to the music itself. Even The Moment I Meet You, which had always felt slightly different from Group Sound's usual discography, lost its sense of mismatch tonight. While retaining the core of the original, it had been rearranged into a dreamy, ethereal version that blended seamlessly into the concert's atmosphere.

Spellbound, the audience lost themselves in the performance, forgetting to cheer or ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠even clap. They stared at the continuous, high-quality animation that must have cost a fortune to produce, watching as it unfolded in perfect harmony with the music. They watched the dazzling, slow-sweeping lasers and lights.

It was midway through the concert when this collective trance was broken. A completely unfamiliar sound began to echo through the venue, waking the audience one by one as if from a deep slumber.

Wait, is this a new song?

Ayun felt it too. A synthesizer riff echoed from afar, followed by a beautiful piano melody. The bass line that entered alongside the drums was incredibly simple—unlike Group Sound's usual style. Then came a very brief guitar solo. Everything signaled that this was a brand-new track they had never heard before.

This feels... quite different from our girls' usual style.

It fit the current atmosphere of the concert perfectly, but how would it sound on an actual studio album? As Ayun pondered this, the instruments began to fade. The bass continued on its own, repeating the same steady line. Then, the piano started up again.

From somewhere in the corner of the stage, a languid chorus drifted out. It wasn't powerful, but it carried enough weight to leave a distinct impression. Amidst this, Suyun raised her microphone.

Suyun's voice rang out clearly. Compared to Group Sound's existing songs, it was closer to a spoken-word shout than singing. It was a languid, half-spoken, half-sung delivery that stood in stark contrast to their usual vocal style.

Then, the chorus swelled again, acting almost as another instrument. Amidst a slightly eerie, solemn choir, a voice different from Suyun's murmured through the venue.

And then, as if they had been waiting for this exact moment...

With a sound that felt like it would tear the speakers apart, the dreamlike illusion shattered. A heavily distorted guitar sound, unlike anything they had heard from the band before, assaulted the audience.

It was a blues-based, pentatonic scale sound. The very sound that guitarist Ha Suyun loved to use the most. It was far more intense than Ilmo Doyon (Sunset on a Long Road), the hidden track of their first studio album, which had previously showcased her personal color the most. It was a sound the audience had never anticipated.

The notes warped and soared high before plunging back down. Every time the wave of sound crashed over them, the audience felt the lingering droplets of the melody swirling in their ears, refusing to be washed away.

As the song came to an end, the stage lights slowly and gently began to rise. It was far too early for the concert to be over, but the audience instinctively knew that something had concluded. Within the context of the show, this was likely the end of Part 1. But outside of it...

Well, I wonder...

The stage grew slightly brighter. The members of Group Sound picked up their microphones, perhaps to finally deliver the greetings they had put off.

Ayun thought to herself: Was this purely a theatrical choice for the concert, or was it...

I'll have to go home and dig into the theories on this.

Day two of the concert.

Because some of the audience members were attending both days, and the setlist from day one had already been leaked, the twist of the "new song" in the middle didn't cause quite the same shockwave as it had on the first day. Nevertheless, it still carried a massive impact.

After shifting the entire mood of the concert in the middle, Floating Garden was performed once more in the latter half as an encore. The audience happily sang along, wanting to use this moment to mark the grand finale of the concert.

"Thank you all so much for coming to our concert!"

"Thank... you!"

"We'll see you next time!"

"Thank you. Please get home safely."

The applause that followed was far louder than usual. Though it carried many different meanings, the crowd interpreted its primary sentiment as one thing: a farewell.

The rumor of their "Japan debut" had already become an accepted fact within the fandom. The twist in the middle of the concert had only solidified this belief. Although Group Sound offered no official confirmation or explanation, the fans took it as a parting gift. Whatever the reason, it was only natural to return the gesture. That was why the applause stretched on for so long.

Yet, all things must eventually come to an end. The applause finally subsided, the house lights turned on, and the crowd began to pack up their things. Some of the more eager attendees had already made their way out of the exits.

But then, for some reason, the sound of a guitar began to echo through the venue.

Some people didn't even look back, assuming it was just a sound check. Others figured someone had bumped into an instrument while packing up. But some turned their eyes back to the stage to see what was happening.

Soon, every single person froze and stared at the stage in wide-eyed shock.

Suyun was sitting on a simple stool, playing her guitar. She was strumming a melody that most people in the room had never heard before, yet to a select few, it was a deeply familiar tune.

It was Pink Floyd's Brain Damage.

"What is that? What song is she playing?"

"It doesn't sound like a Group Sound song..."

The slightly unsettling, haunting atmosphere of the song instantly captivated the crowd. What did this mean? Those who had already walked out tried to push their way back in, while those still inside scrambled to return to their seats.

"The show has concluded, please make your way to the exits~"

The staff continued their announcements, guiding the crowd outward. Yet, regardless of the commotion, Suyun's voice, her guitar, and the band's quiet accompaniment continued to play. They didn't even try to make it feel like a formal performance. It was simply a quiet farewell to those leaving.

Finally, as the crowd gave up on re-entering and turned back toward the exits, Suyun held the final note, her voice rising to carry the lyrics to the very end.

Those who had not yet left were able to catch one last glimpse of her. Facing the nearly empty venue, Suyun bowed deeply at a perfect ninety-degree angle before disappearing behind the stage.

It was a final, quiet goodbye to the time they had shared—a time that felt both long and short.