A Surprise for the Groupheads

Was the Grouphead fandom a completely unprecedented phenomenon? Not at all. Fanatical devotees of rock bands had existed ever since the dawn of the genre. The legendary tale of fans making plaster casts of the Beatles' footprints and preserving them was not a myth, but a historical fact. Furthermore, fans did not merely worship the bands themselves. Even today, in some corner of the internet, endless debates raged over which Beatles track was truly the greatest, or whether Pink Floyd should be classified as a progressive rock band.

In that light, the Groupheads might have seemed like nothing special—just another group of people who happened to love Group Sound's music. They could easily have been dismissed as ordinary rock fans, the kind you could find anywhere. Yet, there was a distinct difference.

Where did rock music currently stand in the modern music market? Outside of Japan, rock had long been pushed out of the mainstream in most countries. The bands still making waves on the global stage usually boasted careers spanning ten or twenty years. Japan wasn't entirely different; though rock music was still very much alive there, a massive generational gap persisted.

The demographic of Group Sound's fandom, however, was a different story.

Group Sound was, after all, a band formed by teenage girls. Even now, in their fifth year, they were only in their early twenties. Their music, whether by design or coincidence, perfectly captured the essence of their youth. On top of that, their promotional and marketing strategies from the very beginning had been modeled after K-pop idols—a highly successful, battle-tested formula that the younger generation was incredibly familiar with.

These unique ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠characteristics naturally drew in a younger crowd. But since teenagers and young adults weren't the only ones who loved Group Sound, middle-aged and older fans remained a strong presence as well. Through some inexplicable chemistry, these two vastly different demographics blended seamlessly.

That blend was the Groupheads.

They freely expressed their individuality and opinions on social media, actively engaged in fan-creator culture to dissect Group Sound's music, and produced their own creative works. They spanned all age groups while adapting effortlessly to the breakneck pace of modern trends. In short, they had become the absolute ideal fandom.

"Take a look at this!"

"Oh..."

It was late November, roughly halfway through their live tour. Even during their brief breaks from traveling, the members had gathered at the agency to practice. It was then that Deputy Section Chief Jeong called them over to his monitor, promising to show them something interesting.

On the screen was a beautifully designed website that perfectly captured modern web aesthetics.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Wow, this is amazing. Are these all our fans?" Iseor asked, her eyes wide.

"Yes! It's hard to call it 'official,' per se. If we officially endorse it, it becomes quite difficult for us to manage from a legal and administrative standpoint."

As Deputy Section Chief Jeong answered, Suyun stared at the title at the very top of the homepage: Grouphead.

Are they Deadheads? Suyun thought, recalling the famous moniker for fans of the Grateful Dead. Whoever had coined the name had clearly drawn inspiration from them.

"If it's official... is there a problem...?" Hyun-ah asked hesitantly. "I feel like... it would be easier to manage... if it were official..."

"Well, yes! In terms of ease of management, an official site would be much better! But if it's official, any incident or scandal that happens within the fandom becomes our responsibility. If we police them too strictly to prevent that, the fans won't have the freedom to enjoy themselves!"

"Ah, I see. That makes sense."

"Originally, we were planning to build a platform like this ourselves! As you can see, a design of this caliber doesn't come cheap...!"

Deputy Section Chief Jeong began to explain. They had indeed been preparing to launch an official website to unite the fandom. However, during this live tour, they noticed the fans organizing and forming a massive collective on their own.

"We started tracking this movement on Twitter, TikTok, YouTube, and other platforms! Quite a few prominent fan accounts were discussing it. So, we decided to step in and provide the server and hosting, keeping it as a semi-official—or semi-unofficial—space. And that's how this website came to be!"

"I like it," Suyun said, taking the mouse and scrolling through the page.

With a few clicks, a torrent of posts appeared.

Some posts were uploaded directly to the community, while others were automatically scraped from YouTube or TikTok using some backend API. Fascinated by the setup, Suyun kept scrolling. She half-expected to find malicious posts or hate comments, but there were none.

"So, who manages this site?"

"They receive support from us! It's essentially treated as an outsourced project, and we have a strict contract in place to govern it. But the day-to-day moderation is entirely handled by the fans themselves!"

"Are these the only kinds of posts? Just social media shares and covers?"

"Oh, no! That's because I have a filter turned on. If you switch to general mode, you'll see other discussions. For instance, if we filter for discussions..."

"The last one looks interesting," Seoha noted, pointing at the screen.

Deputy Section Chief Jeong clicked the link, revealing a wall of text originally written in Japanese.

"Isn't this a bit of a touchy subject?" Iseor muttered.

"Well, they'll figure it out. Besides, if we get flak for the translation, it's her fault anyway," Suyun said, jerking her chin toward Iseor.

"Why is it my fault?!"

"You're the one who adapted the lyrics."

"Wow~ Totally irresponsible. Look at Suyun's terrible personality."

"You made me this way."

The two bickered back and forth. It happened so often now that Hyun-ah didn't even bother with her usual, "Please stop fighting..."

As the other two members watched the familiar comedy routine unfold, Deputy Section Chief Jeong ignored the bickering and spoke up.

"If you girls have some free time, it would be great if you could drop by and post a verification message! It would really motivate the fans to be even more active!"

"We should do that. How do we sign up?"

"You can just link your social media accounts!"

"Oh, that's easy. I'm going to post mine right now~"

Iseor immediately snapped a photo of the monitor and began tapping away on her phone. Suyun watched her for a moment before turning back to Jeong.

"Is there anything else we should know about?"

"Hmm... We did hear a rumor through the grapevine. It seems the fans are planning some kind of independent event or concert of their own! That's about it."

"An independent fan event?"

Suyun tilted her head. A fan-organized event. She thought the romantic era of such passionate fan initiatives had long passed. It was a stark reminder of just how much their fandom had grown, and how many hardcore fans they now possessed.

"And other than that, it's the schedule we discussed earlier..."

"The one for late December?"

"Yes, yes. Regarding that..."

A few days later.

Group Sound's concert at the ROHM Theatre Kyoto was held as a hybrid event, featuring both an in-person audience and a live online broadcast. For Korean fans, the broadcast was a saving grace.

Ever since Group Sound had crossed over to Japan last summer, every piece of news about the band had been centered around Japan. Where they were performing, which radio shows they were guesting on, their appearances at Japanese festivals, their live tour, and so on.

The only connection to Korea had been Ha Suyun's compositions, some online content produced for Korean fans, an impromptu fan meeting in Gangneung, Ha Suyun's guerrilla seminar at Yamaha, and a brief barista experience at the Echo Sound building. That was it.

Yet, the Korean fans couldn't exactly complain about being neglected. The band's growth was simply too explosive. Starting from scratch in tiny live houses, they had managed to launch a full-scale live tour in just a year and a half. Who could look at that trajectory and selfishly demand, "I don't care, just come back to Korea and perform!"?

They could only pray for the band's continued success... but the lingering sense of disappointment was unavoidable. This live broadcast was the only balm for those wounded feelings.

The vocals flowed through the soundbar, culminating in a thunderous, waterfall-like roar of applause from the live venue.

"Ah, damn it, why is it so short? This is cruel," Seyun muttered grumpily, chewing on a leftover chicken drumstick. It was their first time seeing a Korean broadcast in ages, and she felt cheated.

"They've been playing for over two hours. How is that short?" her younger brother, Sehyun, retorted.

Seyun blinked in surprise. "Two hours? No way."

Had two hours really passed? It felt completely absurd.

"They'll probably do an encore and wrap it up."

"Yeah, looks like it."

The siblings had pooled their money to buy the 30,000 won live-streaming ticket. Watching the concert cast onto their smart TV via Chromecast, they deeply regretted not having a proper home theater system. Seyun made a mental note to look into getting a Dolby Surround system or whatever it was called.

"Man, watching this with chicken is the best. This is seriously insane. And the chat is hilarious."

"Yeah."

On screen, Iseor smiled into her microphone. "Thank you for 'Kingdom.' This is the end... is what I would say, but as you all know, we have an encore! Don't leave yet!"

A wave of laughter rippled through the venue. The siblings smiled at Iseor's wit, though a bittersweet feeling lingered. Once this screen went dark, who knew when they would see them again?

"And our leader, Ha Suyun, has something to say! I think she'll say it in Korean..."

"Yes, I'm Ha Suyun. This is in Korean. Everyone, I hope you enjoyed tonight's show..."

Hyun-ah translated her words into Japanese in near real-time. Even though the full live audio, including the MC segments, would eventually be uploaded to Grouphead, hearing it live was entirely different from listening to a recording.

"And as you know, this performance is being broadcast to Korea right now. Everyone, please wave your hands. To our viewers in Korea. Hello~"

Through the soundbar, a chorus of "Konbanwa~" and "Annyeonghaseyo~" echoed from the Japanese crowd. Before the chat or the siblings could even process the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gesture, Suyun spoke again.

"Saying this might make some of you think... even if you don't say it out loud: 'Are you teasing us? You're not even coming to Korea.' Let's be honest. We're Korean. We know exactly how you feel."

"Pfft, haha! I literally just thought that. She's so real," Seyun burst out laughing.

"Geez... wear it like a badge of honor, why don't you," Sehyun muttered.

"We haven't been able to go to Korea. We know. Because of our schedule, even though we're a Korean band, we haven't been able to perform in Korea. I'm sure some of you are feeling left out..."

"We are!" Seyun yelled at the screen.

"Noona, she can't hear you. Why are you shouting?"

"Who cares?!"

As the chat flooded with desperate pleas, Ha Suyun cleared her throat on screen and adjusted her glasses.

"For all of you... we have prepared this. An additional show!!"

The venue erupted into a massive roar of confusion and excitement. The chat froze instantly. The siblings froze as well.

On the massive screen behind Group Sound in the ROHM Theatre, bold letters began to scroll up slowly.

"An additional show for our Korean fans!! Ticket sales start tonight at midnight! By the way, all seats are by lottery!!"

The chat completely exploded.

"Aaaaahhh!!"

In her sheer, unbridled excitement, Seyun threw the remote control. It slammed into the floor like a claymore mine, shattering into a dozen plastic shards that scattered across the living room.

But in that moment, it was a perfectly reasonable reaction.