INTERLUDE: Guitar Lessons at the Startup
Beep beep beep beep— the alarm clock blared. Myeongjeon reached out to silence it, then glanced at the time. 6:30 a.m. Right on schedule, as always. Before getting out of bed, she did her McKenzie exercises. Keeping her lower body still, she slowly lifted her upper body to face the ceiling. She took a deep breath in and out, restoring the natural curve to her spine. Next came the cat pose—thrusting her hips toward the sky while pressing her upper body as flat to the floor as possible. Holding it for a few seconds sent a pleasant release through her lower back.
She wasn't at an age where she needed to loosen up first thing in the morning to prevent slipped discs or anything... but it was a habit from her days as Seo Myeongjeon, and it was good for her health, so she saw no reason to stop.
After stretching, she stepped out to find Lee Hyein waiting. The usual morning routine: a fried egg with assorted side dishes.
"Eat up, it’s delicious."
"Yeah, thanks."
For a while, only the clink of chopsticks filled the kitchen. Myeongjeon ate mechanically until Lee Hyein’s voice pulled her attention.
"You remember you’re coming to the office today, right?"
"Ah, yeah."
"We’ll eat after the staff wraps up work, so come around 7 p.m."
"Got it."
The part-time gig her 'mom' had asked her to do—or really, shoved her into. Teaching guitar to the office workers and offering some band consulting on the side. She got me the spot, so I'll do it... but still. Myeongjeon didn't mind, but she wondered how the students would feel. A girl who'd only been playing guitar for a few months teaching them? They'd be lucky not to get flak for it.
Whatever. If they complained, she'd just show them what she could do. That'd shut them up quick.
"Alright, Mom's off to work~"
"See you later."
After breakfast, she savored the freedom of vacation and settled at her desk. Her YouTube channel's subscribers had climbed nicely—to around 3,000. No new session inquiries since then, but no rush. She already had a way to make money now; she could take it slow.
She knocked out a few tasks, then set up the camera to film today's practice video. The song: Stevie Ray Vaughan's Mary Had a Little Lamb. After playing it through and editing, her phone buzzed. Incoming from Iseo.
Hard work practicing since morning. Myeongjeon opened the file. The bass sound was trying hard to keep rhythm, but it was a stretch to call it rhythmic. Still, the effort was palpable, and that was good.
What break? Isn't playing your instrument your break? Myeongjeon couldn't wrap her head around it. If handling the gear itself wasn't pure joy, you had no business in music. Hadn't she figured that out after just one jam session?
They were office workers. Regular... no, pretty successful young professionals at a hot startup. Twenties and thirties, balancing work-life harmony, enjoying life's luxuries.
Their company was objectively great. A young, talented female CEO. A cash-cow product. Dynamic, vibrant culture. Top-tier pay. Welfare perks so abundant you couldn't keep up.
It was an environment that was hard not to love.
Until yesterday.
"Uh... even Assistant Manager Kim's here?"
"Yeah. What can you do."
"No idea what's going on... I mean, is this even right? Even if it's a free company perk..."
"The boss must have something in mind."
One of the welfare programs: support for employee hobby clubs. They'd been milking the funding happily when the CEO announced she'd hired a guitar instructor and band coach. Sounded pro-level from her description—maybe a famous artist? "Who is it?"
The answer: "My daughter."
"...Pardon? Your daughter?"
"Yeah. My girl’s great at guitar."
"...Hahaha~! Your daughter's a guitarist, huh? Looking forward to it~!"
What had been a top-tier startup moments ago suddenly felt like a nepotism dumpster fire. Not exactly—she wasn't an employee, just the program instructor. But still... what company throws their kid into a cultural program like that? The staff exchanged dubious glances.
"Feels off, right?"
"Well, maybe she's actually good..."
"But didn't the boss say she was a troublemaker? Remember that company dinner a few months back? She got wasted and vented to me about it."
"Did she mention music then?"
"Nah, didn't hear that."
Sighs rippled through the room. The CEO was great—a solid boss, talented founder. Sure, like any startup head, she crammed schedules around her whims, but that was par for the course.
Still, shoving her daughter into welfare as "My kid's a guitar whiz~" felt excessive. What if she sucked?
"Hey, instructor, your guitar playing's kinda meh."?
With Mom as CEO? No way. Or quit with "Boss, no time for band stuff..."? She'd bolt the second her kid flamed out.
The weirdness gave everyone headaches.
"CEO's here."
Click-clack of heels, thud of footsteps. At the glance down the hall, slouched "whatever" postures snapped straight.
"Hi everyone~ Dinner tasty?"
In walked two: their CEO, Lee Hyein, and... a pretty high school girl with a cold vibe trailing behind.
No greeting—just narrowing her eyes, scanning the room. Bad first impression all around.
"This is... as I mentioned, my daughter. Ha Suyeon. Suyeon, say hi. These are Mom's staff."
"Hello. I'm Ha Suyeon."
A perfunctory bow, polite applause. Lee Hyein pressed on.
"Some of you must be shocked I brought my daughter instead of a pro instructor."
"No way~", "Bet she's great~!", "Your daughter's gorgeous~!"
Hyein smiled wryly.
"I get it. If my boss dragged their kid in like 'Learn guitar from my girl, she's good,' I'd be mortified too. How do you critique the CEO's daughter? But my kid's really good. Objectively. And she's great at teaching. Try it once—you'll see."
No waiting for replies. She beckoned Suyeon forward and took a seat in the corner.
Says 'try it and see' but sticks around? How we gonna relax? The staff grumbled inwardly. Even Myeongjeon thought the same. Boss had to bounce for real learning. Oh well. Dissolve the doubt first, then shoo 'Mom' for coffee and dive in.
"Hello. Ha Suyeon, as I said earlier. Nice to meet you properly."
A bow, half-hearted claps. Myeongjeon smirked internally.
"My mom's... overconfident in my skills, so she dumped you all on me. My bad for accepting without thinking. I get what you're thinking: What creds does this high school kid have teaching guitar? CEO's daughter or not, this is nuts."
Laughter erupted—awkward chuckles mixed with genuine amusement. Obvious to Myeongjeon, obvious to Hyein too. She needs to play it cooler.
Myeongjeon opened her case, pulling out the acoustic Hyein bought for lessons. A standard domestic Colt.
"Guess I should show you what I can do first. Then we'll start."
The gentle guitar melody faded, replaced by heartfelt applause—worlds apart from before. Polite obligation then, genuine now. How'd she know? Hundreds, thousands of gigs sharpen that instinct.
"You play... really well."
A dazed murmur from one worker, echoed by agreements.
"Insanely good.", "That emotion's wild.", "Isn't that a Colt? How's it sound that good?"
The last irked her a bit. At her level, she could make anything sing like a multimillion-won axe. Tone comes from hands, not hardware. Nice gear helps, sure...
"So, up for lessons with me?"
"Yes!"
Energetic now. Myeongjeon grinned, glancing at Hyein—beaming back.
"That was Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here. We'll base early lessons on it. But first, I need your levels. Mom said you all play a bit, so... one by one, play something you know. Good, bad—doesn't matter. Just show me."
Myeongjeon packed her guitar. Next time, they'd need amps—rent a group lesson room or something. She'd gauged skills, chatted processes and schedules. Time flew; today was just orientation.
"Your daughter's a guitar goddess, ma'am. Blown away. That feel..."
"Right? I had no idea she was this good. Learned behind my back... haha."
Post-lesson, some lingered, chatting Hyein up. Praise for 'Ha Suyeon' felt more ladder-climbing than sincere. But what parent hates kid compliments? Hyein glowed, ears feasting.
"All packed."
"Already? Time flies."
Even the wise know flattery rots the axe handle. 'Mom' lost track amid the glow-up. Nice vibe, but home called.
"By the way... does she just practice alone at home?"
"Yeah."
"Auditions are hot lately. She could crush one—total pro level..."
As they wrapped to head home, an earworm line: TV appearance...? Audition...?