Melting the Frost

At Tokyo Wheels, the 16-beat drum roll gradually subsided. Once again, silence fell over the stage.

While darkness still lingered on the stage, the music began. A dynamically bouncing piano melody rang out. Lightly layering over it came the drums playing with the beat, a classic bassline, and a clean-toned guitar.

Amidst the lingering darkness, the guitar produced a slightly tingling sound. The bass marched forward, simple yet full of rhythm.

No one in the audience knew what song was being played on stage right now. Yet, despite that, they slowly began to sway to the rhythm. It was a song that made them feel as if they had to, or rather, had no choice but to move.

It wasn't flashy. Nor was it simple. It wasn't loud, yet it wasn't boring either. The song's structure was the very definition of "the right elements in the right places." Music that was pure, unadulterated Rock itself, with nothing else mixed in.

Then, the stage suddenly lit up. A neat black setup. A plain white turtleneck shirt. A small gold cross necklace gleamed.

Suyun offered the crowd a faint smile, then tapped her foot conspicuously, as if telling them to follow the beat.

A bouncy slap bass wrapped around the highlight of the song. That energy crept under the feet of those who hadn't yet fully immersed themselves in the performance, melting the frost on their shoes. It wasn't burning hot, but it carried more than enough warmth to get their heels and toes tapping.

The song entered its second verse. The drums and bass continued their rhythmic, effortless play. The keyboard added a layer of emotional depth. However, the guitar, joining in right at the vocal cue, shifted the atmosphere slightly, drawing the audience's focus. As if telling them to look forward to what was coming next.

The slap bass returned. The bass, which had been thumping at a moderate pace, suddenly executed a brief fill-in. Instantly, the audience's ears perked up. And from that exact moment, a crisp, soaring guitar sound with a touch of drive began to dominate the stage.

"Whoa...!"

The beat, sliced to its absolute limits by Suyun's fingers, transcended the very boundaries of time signatures in the eyes of the audience. Even though the drums and bass held down the center, the leadership of the music on stage had completely shifted to the guitar. Under its influence, the razor-sharp tempo of the other instruments began to warp slightly. And that beat began to dance atop the rhythm of the crowd.

It melted the frozen feet of the audience, then their knees, their shoulders, and their wrists. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠It made staying still feel so suffocating that they had no choice but to move.

"I'll wait—!"

Suyun's low voice belted out a high note that would be quite challenging for a male vocalist. Yet, what followed was a guitar tone pitched far higher than any human voice. A relentless barrage of high-fret notes played without hesitation. Non-stop bending and whammy bar action. The piano and bass played an endlessly ascending Shepard tone, while the drums split the beats and raced forward.

"Ohhhhh...!"

In response, the voices of the audience began to leak out here and there. The performance, which felt like it would go on forever, concluded with a variation on the main melody unleashed by the guitar. The bass, piano, and drum fills locked in step with it. Finally, a thunderous round of applause filled the venue.

A stage opened by an unreleased song that no one in the venue had ever heard before. Yet, the crowd's reaction was as explosive as if they were listening to a long-beloved hit song live. And from that moment, Group Sound's performance truly began.

The opening volley was fired with Under the Satellite, their first Japanese release, and Paid Wi-Fi, a track from their days in Korea.

"Everyone, um. Some of you might find this uncomfortable, but since we are a Korean band..."

"Don't hesitate, just jump and go wild! You can sing along, or you can just jump around! Have some real fun! Say whatever you want to say!"

It was a comment that could almost be considered a bit sly. But just because they said so didn't mean the naturally reserved Japanese audience would suddenly go wild as if they were on drugs.

"Waaaaah!!"

"I love you!!"

"Marry me!!"

"Marriage is a bit much. I'm single by choice."

Thus, the crowd going this wild was entirely due to Group Sound's sheer talent. After taking the audience on a rollercoaster ride with tracks like Becoming a Star, another unreleased song called Gray Days, and more...

When they finally reached their biggest hit, Floating Garden...

Those who knew the song sang at the top of their lungs. And even those who didn't know the lyrics reached the point of humming along to the melody.

"Thank you!!"

When Suyun shouted her thanks and grabbed a handful of picks from her inner jacket pocket to toss them into the crowd, a fierce, though bloodless, scramble for the picks ensued amidst roaring cheers. Because each and every one of them bore a mark resembling her signature.

After the performance ended.

"Great job, everyone~"

"Good work!"

Group Sound entered the waiting room, wiping the light sweat from their foreheads. And the room was packed with people. Normally at this time, only a few bands looking to network would remain, but almost everyone was still there, save for a very select few.

Suyun snorted at the sight of the crowded room, sat on a chair in the middle, and glanced toward a corner. There stood Shimizu, the leader of Strange Straight, staring at Suyun with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eyes that practically spat fire. Around her, her bandmates were either sighing or staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Well? Do you admit you lost?"

"We lost? No. I don't think so at all."

"How pathetic."

With a smirk, Suyun lightly tapped her chin with her index finger. It was a completely predictable and expected reaction—one she would have been disappointed not to get. It was obvious she was going to say something like "audience reaction is subjective"...

"Is there even such a thing as an objective audience reaction? It's all subjective. And I felt our crowd was much better."

"Even so, I believe there's a clear... objective difference."

"Hmph. Fine, maybe there is. That's why I came up with an idea. Let's ask the other bands here. How about it?"

Even this was exactly as Suyun had anticipated. With everything falling perfectly into place, Suyun felt a surge of intellectual satisfaction as she scanned the bands gathered in the waiting room. Some were watching the situation unfold with keen interest.

"Hey... is this going to be okay?"

"What?"

"If it goes on like this, isn't she just going to buy everyone off and say we lost?"

A few avoided Suyun's gaze, turning their heads or staring at the ceiling and floor. Observing this, Iseor whispered.

"Why, are you worried?"

"Well, of course..."

"Let me ask you all. Whose audience reaction do you think was better?"

While Suyun was replying to Iseor, Shimizu addressed the bands in the room, scanning them like an orator addressing a crowd. And from a few bands, hesitant answers trickled back.

"I think... Strange Straight had a better reaction."

"Really? You honestly think so? On your conscience?"

There were some who said Group Sound had the better reaction, but their numbers were visibly fewer. The rest either ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠remained bystanders or sided with Strange Straight. In response, Suyun put on an exaggeratedly shocked expression, while Shimizu let out a smug, mocking laugh.

"Of course they think so. Well, look at that. Barely anyone is saying your crowd was better."

"Do you all honestly think that? Really? Putting your honor and conscience as musicians on the line? Truly?"

"They said they do. Why can't you accept it? This is the result. You lost the bet."

Shimizu answered on their behalf. As her smirk deepened, the other bands who had supported Strange Straight grew increasingly quiet and shrank back. Cackling, Shimizu suddenly stood up, marched over to Suyun, and sneered.

"The results are in, aren't they? Hurry up and do dogeza in front of me. Admit that you guys—Group Sound, or Baka Sound, or whatever—are far worse at music than us, just some rejects who got kicked out of Korea...!"

Everyone in the waiting room focused their attention on Suyun. Even the members of Group Sound looked at Suyun with expressions that screamed, 'We're doomed.'

"Huh? What's with the atmosphere? Are you guys doing something fun?"

The waiting room door swung open, and a voice shattered the heavy tension. Shimizu whipped her head around, her face twisted in annoyance at whoever dared to ruin her moment. And then, she froze in absolute shock.

Standing there was Asano Shohei, the legendary guitarist of Japan's legendary band, Blue Moon Harmonics.

"A-Asano-san! You came? I was wondering how you enjoyed the show."

"Ah~ it was fantastic. The first song gave me absolute goosebumps. Is it by any chance what I think..."

"Yes. An 80s, Eric Clapton style. You're correct."

"I knew it! I just had to be sure. I'm really curious how you pulled that off. Wasn't that style popular way before you were even born, Suyun-san?"

Asano walked slowly into the room and offered Suyun a handshake. While everyone else in the room stood frozen as if time had stopped, Suyun shook his hand and casually answered his question before asking for his thoughts on the performance.

"Well, if you listen a lot and practice a lot... it's entirely possible. More importantly, how was it? I mentioned it to you earlier."

"Ah~ that bet? About whose audience reaction was better? Honestly, I thought fighting over something like that was a bit childish, but... what did these friends here say?"

"Well..."

At Asano's words, the other bands in the room flinched as if struck by lightning. From what they just heard, Asano was fully aware of the bet they had made over the crowd's reaction. And in this situation, right in front of a living legend with a career spanning over thirty years, whom countless Japanese musicians idolized, and whom several people in this very room deeply revered... could they really dare to claim that Strange Straight had won the bet? Was there anyone with a heart strong enough to pull off such a lie?

It's so obvious.

Suyun smirked, looking at the other bands. It was painfully obvious that their gears were turning frantically.

"Why is everyone so quiet? Whose reaction was better? Did you all go deaf from playing your instruments?"

"I... I..."

"You what?"

"That Strange Straight... was better..."

"What? Is there something wrong with your eyes? Whose reaction was better? Are you sick?"

Just because someone was a veteran didn't mean they were all sweet, gentle grandpas. Intimidated by Asano's interrogation, one musician turned pale and blurted out, "No! Group Sound was better!"

And following that cue, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a cascade of voices rushed to agree: "Group Sound was definitely better!" "I think Group Sound won!"

"Did you plan this beforehand?"

"Of course. Do you think I'd agree to a bet like this without any leverage?" Suyun whispered back to Seoha, who had leaned in to ask.

From the moment she accepted the bet, Suyun had planned to bring Asano into the equation. If they didn't try to rig it, she could just enjoy talking about music with him. And if they did try to rig it, she could use him to deliver a thorough reality check.

"Aigoo, putting an old man to work like this. I'll step outside for a bit, so come find me when you're done."

"Understood."

Having finished his business, Asano left the waiting room. Suyun watched him go, then tilted her chin up slightly as she addressed Shimizu.

"Well? Who do you think won?"

"You...!"

Shimizu glared with an intensity that could have killed Suyun if looks were lethal. But unless she was Superman, glares couldn't kill. Suyun crossed her arms and spoke.

"Fulfill your end of the bet. Dogeza? Do it quickly."

But Shimizu didn't budge. Her clenched fists turned from red to a dark, bruised shade. After a heavy silence, Shimizu spat out.

"...I don't accept this. I didn't lose. So I won't say those words."

"Well, fine then. You don't have to admit it."

"...What?"

Suyun's response seemed to dismiss everything that had just transpired, surprising the other bands and making Shimizu snap her eyes open. However, Suyun's next words were entirely different from what they expected.

"I don't really need that kind of apology anyway. Don't bother with the dogeza. Just live the rest of your life like that. Knowing deep down that you were wrong. But because you couldn't bear to admit defeat to teenagers, you tried to manipulate everyone in this room to pull off something so pathetic. Just live with that knowledge."

"You!!"

"You lost the bet, but you can't even apologize. You just make excuses. Your musicality is subpar, and your personality is trash. You can't get a single thing right. Go ahead and keep living like that forever. We all die eventually anyway. Take that inferiority complex of yours straight to your grave. Pathetically. Shaking with rage. Live and die like that."

Having said her piece, Suyun muttered, "Let's go," and packed up her guitar.

"Wasn't that a bit too harsh?" one of the members whispered, but no one answered.

Without a word, the other bands filling the waiting room began to slip away one by one. Left alone in the waiting room was Shimizu, clenching her fists so hard they were on the verge of bleeding.