The First Show in Japan
"Ugh, my head is splitting."
Tanaka clutched his throbbing temples as he scanned the booking schedule for next month. It was a neatly organized spreadsheet featuring a few bands the venue owner had specifically told him to keep an eye on, a handful of established names, and the band he had met just last night.
Well, I suppose these little perks are the only reason to be a booking manager... considering how pathetic the pay is.
The band he had met last night hadn't explicitly spelled out what they wanted, but they knew exactly how the game was played. They knew what to ask for and how to behave. Without a word, they had bought him drinks and even introduced him to a pretty girl. In return, Tanaka had patted them on the back and said, "Just trust me. It's a win-win for both of us, right?"
He was, after all, in a position where he could easily squeeze them into a slot.
Scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours. That's just how the world works...
Bands that did nothing but mail in demo tapes didn't deserve to play at a live house anyway. If they weren't willing to put in the effort, it just proved they weren't desperate enough. Opportunities belonged to those who wanted them more. And in this industry, desperation was measured by how a band took action.
Therefore, taking care of the bands that personally came to beg him for a slot wasn't just his job as a booking manager—it was his duty as one of the unsung pillars supporting the Japanese music scene. Tanaka genuinely believed this.
If he happened to pocket a little extra side income in the process, so what? This job paid next to nothing anyway. It wasn't like anyone was getting hurt.
"Nakamura!!" Tanaka barked toward the hallway after firing off the Line messages.
"Yes!!"
A young staff member scurried into the office. Tanaka handed him the printed booking schedule.
"Take this to the owner."
"What is it?"
"Are you blind? It's the booking schedule! Hurry up and take it to him."
"Ah, um... but..."
"But what?!" Tanaka snapped, glaring at the kid. His hangover was already making his skull feel like it was about to split open, and Nakamura's hesitation was only making it worse.
Nakamura shrank back under the glare but managed to squeak out, "Well, the owner..."
"What about him?!"
"When he came in earlier, he told me to tell you to be extra careful with this month's schedule. He said you need to listen to all the demo tracks... Apparently, he heard a rumor that a massive band is planning to make their Japanese debut this month..."
"What? A massive band? Give me a break." Tanaka scoffed, rubbing his forehead.
What kind of 'massive band' would play here? Sure, Rene Mure was a legendary live house, but it had a capacity of barely three hundred people. There was absolutely no reason for a major act to squeeze themselves into a tiny basement like this.
Still, with Nakamura staring right at him, Tanaka couldn't just ignore the owner's orders. He sighed, massaged his temples, and booted up his computer. He would just pretend to skim through the inbox.
But his plan was shattered only a few minutes later by Nakamura's sudden gasp.
"Wait... Th-Them?!"
"What?"
Nakamura was pointing at a corner of the monitor. The English text read: Group Sound.
"It's... Group Sound!"
"Group Sound? Who the hell is that?"
"Y-You don't know them?" Nakamura's eyes went wide, looking at Tanaka as if he had just confessed to not knowing who the Prime Minister was.
Tanaka frowned. Group Sound... Now that he thought about it, Ishikawa had mentioned that name a few days ago.
"They're insanely popular in Korea right now! People are saying they're on the same level as top-tier K-pop idols!"
"What? Are you serious?" Tanaka sat up straight.
Nakamura eagerly nodded and launched into an explanation. He talked about how they had sold out a venue equivalent to the Budokan, and how they had sold tens of thousands of physical albums in Korea—a country where the rock scene was practically dead. They were being hailed as a miraculous supernova in the Korean music industry.
A cold sweat broke out on Tanaka's neck.
Wait. Could they be the 'massive band' the owner was talking about...?
This was the price of neglecting his music research lately. He swallowed hard, his voice trembling slightly. "How... how is their music?"
"It's amazing. Even I've listened to them."
"Really?"
"Just listen to this!"
Urged by Nakamura, Tanaka grabbed the mouse with a slightly shaking hand and clicked play on the attached audio file.
As the music began to flow through the speakers, Tanaka froze. Even through the cheap, worn-out speakers of the live house office, the sheer quality of the music was undeniable. It was on an entirely different dimension from the amateur demo tapes he usually sifted through.
I'm screwed.
Cold sweat poured down his back. Half of the bands on his schedule were established acts that absolutely had to be there. The other half were highly talented bands that earned their spots. The only flexible slot was the one he had promised to the guys who bought him drinks last night.
But he had already promised them the slot. His pride wouldn't let him back out now...
"Nakamura. Pretend you didn't see this."
"Huh?"
"Pretend we never got this email. We just missed it."
"What?! Why...?"
"Just do as I say, kid! Do you want to keep your job or not? Keep your mouth shut and stay quiet. Got it?"
Tanaka barked at the young staff member, trying to intimidate him. He stared back at the schedule on his screen, his mind racing, when suddenly the office door swung open.
"Let me see the list of demos we received."
"Sir?"
"Nakamura, bring me the list. They should have sent it by now. They might have emailed us directly."
Before Tanaka could even open his mouth, Nakamura scurried out of the room to fetch the files. Tanaka froze in his chair, and the owner shot him a suspicious look.
That suspicion instantly turned into raging fury the moment the owner looked at the printout Nakamura brought back.
"Tanaka, what the hell is wrong with you? Group Sound is right here on the list, and you didn't even put them on the schedule? Do you call yourself a music professional?"
"No, Boss, it's not like that..."
"You idiot! You booked Bride last time and they were absolute trash, so why are they on here again? Did you take a kickback from them?"
"Boss, please, let me explain..."
"I don't want to hear it! Get the hell out of my office!"
Tanaka slunk out of the room, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
The owner let out a heavy sigh, rubbed his temples, and dialed the number listed in the email Nakamura had printed out. He desperately prayed he wasn't too late.
"...Ah! Hello! This is Sasaki Kenichi, the owner of the live house Rene Mure. Am I speaking with Deputy General Manager Jung Yuyoung of Label Echo Sound? ...Ah, yes! I am so incredibly sorry for the delayed response. Yes, yes. No, it's not that we weren't interested, it was just..."
A few days later, when Rene Mure announced its booking schedule for the following month, the Tokyo indie scene—and by extension, the entire Japanese indie community—was thrown into absolute chaos. The sheer star power of the headliner was unprecedented for a venue of that size.
While Group Sound's status in Korea had reached a point where it couldn't possibly get any higher, that reputation didn't automatically translate to Japan. Japan was, after all, a powerhouse of rock bands. With so many incredible domestic bands already dominating the scene, Japanese rock fans saw no reason to make a fuss over a band coming from Korea—a country historically considered a barren wasteland for rock music.
The general consensus among Japanese fans was simply to treat them as just another decent foreign band.
However, that attitude completely shifted the moment they realized Group Sound was eschewing the typical 'successful foreign act' treatment.
No one could hate an artist who showed genuine respect for their culture. When that artist was a foreigner, that appreciation only multiplied.
Furthermore, Group Sound's approach perfectly aligned with the classic 'underdog climbing from the bottom' narrative that Japanese audiences absolutely adored. The fans rallied behind them, eagerly anticipating the Rene Mure show, the reviews, and the band's future activities in Japan.
It was the exact moment Jung Yuyoung's master plan for Label Echo Sound hit its mark with surgical precision.
"Are you sure there are no door sales?"
"No tickets left at all?"
"Is anyone selling a spare?"
"No door sales today! We are completely sold out! Ticket holders, please have your tickets ready for entry!"
On the day of the concert, the entrance to Rene Mure was a scene of controlled chaos. Desperate fans swarmed the staff with questions, while others took photos of the massive queue snaking down the street. Passersby stopped to stare, wondering what kind of event was drawing such a crowd, while those who had failed to secure tickets stood around in dejection.
"Man, look at this crowd."
"Tell me about it. Getting a ticket was a nightmare. Who would've thought a live house show would sell out in seconds?"
A lucky ticket holder chatted with his friend as they walked past the envious onlookers. Guided by the staff, they slowly made their way down the narrow stairs into the basement.
The basement was already packed to the brim. Any more people, and it would have been impossible to enjoy the music comfortably.
"Two lemon sours, please."
"Coming right up!"
Squeezing through the crowd, they ordered drinks at the bar. Over on the floor, a subtle battle for territory was already underway as fans jostled to get as close to the stage as possible. The young man took a sip of his lemon sour, watching the spectacle with amusement.
"The venue is so small anyway, there's really no need to fight for the front row, is there?"
"Maybe, but being right at the front for an artist's very first show in Japan... that's a badge of honor. A once-in-a-lifetime experience."
Hearing his friend's explanation, he found himself agreeing. It was all about the significance of the 'first time.' Even if they weren't in the very front row, they were still here at the beginning. They were witnessing the starting point of a band that, in all likelihood, was destined for greatness.
"We will be starting the show shortly! Please stand by!"
As he finished half of his lemon sour, the staff member's voice echoed through the venue. He set his glass down on the counter with a polite "Thank you," and turned his attention to the stage.
The house lights dimmed, plunging the venue into darkness. The only light remaining in the entire building came from the bar counter behind them.
In the darkness, the glowing screens of smartphones began to pop up one by one like fireflies, all of them pointed directly at the stage. The only sound was the faint clinking of glasses being cleared at the bar.
But when four distinct sets of footsteps echoed from the wings, the tension and anticipation in the room spiked to an absolute peak.
As the audience's eyes adjusted to the dark, faint silhouettes began to take shape. A soft, warm spotlight slowly illuminated the stage, revealing the four figures standing against the light.
Just as a roar of cheers was about to erupt, the girl standing at the very front slowly raised a single finger to her lips.
That simple gesture silenced the entire room instantly, as if suffocating a collective cough.
In the heavy, breathless silence that followed, a quiet voice drifted through the speakers.
"Konbanwa. Hajimemashite. Group Sound desu." (Good evening. Nice to meet you. We are Group Sound.)
It felt like a train approaching from a great distance, quiet at first, before suddenly roaring right in front of them.
"Sore de wa, konsaato o hajimemasu." (With that, let the concert begin.)
The explosive drum fill shattered the silence, demanding the audience's absolute surrender to the music.
Group Sound's first performance in Japan had officially begun.