Settlement and the Road Ahead
Amid the pouring applause and cheers, Myeongjeon and the girls stepped down from the stage. When they arrived at the waiting room, the next band glared at Myeongjeon with anxious expressions, and someone let out a sigh as they headed up to the stage.
"Why are they glaring?"
"Would you want to perform right after us?"
In response to Iseo's whispered question—as if it were the most obvious thing in the world—Myeongjeon whispered back. Iseo let out an "Eek!" and suddenly jerked backward. Had she eaten something bad? Myeongjeon tilted her head slightly and sat down calmly in one of the waiting room chairs.
Faint applause and cheers drifted in from the stage. It was the next band's turn to perform, but everyone there realized one thing: the audience's reaction was definitely different from before. And not just from the first or second bands—it was clearly distinct.
Feels a bit sorry for them, Myeongjeon thought. The bands coming after them would probably be underrated because of the performance she'd just delivered. Thinking about it that way made her feel a twinge of guilt. Showing my true colors in a kids' playground—what a disgrace...
Ayoon clutched her pounding heart as she sat on the subway seat heading home.
The performance was so, so good.
At first, she loved their effort to recreate the original. Then, the playing itself was pretty solid. After that, their fan-like skill and passion in nailing the original nearly 100% was impressive.
But then? The bottleneck solo from the original track. And the sudden solo that kicked off without finishing the next song? That heart-stirring guitar solo was clearly unrelated to the original track—a tone she'd never heard before. The moment she heard it, an indescribable emotion washed over her.
And the performances after that? Honestly, she felt nothing. Music she would have cheered and enjoyed normally now tasted like chewing on stale crackers—flat and unsatisfying.
Still, an inexplicable storm of emotions churned inside Ayoon. How could she even express this? Fandom? No, it was far different from anything she'd felt before. It went beyond mere fandom—she wanted to know their future schedules, every step they took, their every move... She even felt compelled to promote them herself.
The name of that emotion was...
Over-immersion.
She let out a heavy breath and opened her SNS. Time to post, paving the way as a lone pioneer...
"Everyone did great today! I never expected the on-site sales to sell out completely."
After the show ended, the band and staff gathered together. The head planner said that. Myeongjeon had thought there were a decent crowd, but sold out? It looked like over 200 seats, so the organizers must have made a killing, she figured.
"So, our CEO instructed us to do immediate settlement based on estimated sales as a sold-out commemoration. That's why we're doing cash settlement right now today!"
"Whoa!"
"Love the CEO!"
"Thank you!"
The reactions weren't exactly ecstatic, but they were pretty enthusiastic. Even Seoha clapped lightly, but three people showed no reaction.
Sold-out special quick payout... Might as well declare a national holiday, Myeongjeon sneered inwardly. Meanwhile, Hyeona and Iseo just stared blankly, like they had no idea what was going on.
As they stood there dazed, the planner called them over. Myeongjeon walked up steadily and took a paper envelope.
"Great job today! Anyone heading to the after-party, our team will give you a ride, so come with us! Get home safe!"
"Good work, everyone~"
"See you~"
"You have to come with us today! Let's grab a drink."
"I'm on a diet..."
With the planner's closing remarks, the crowd dispersed. The other four bands, minus Myeongjeon and her friends, chatted among themselves as they followed the planner, but Myeongjeon had no intention of joining.
"Shouldn't we tag along too?"
"It's an after-party. But we're minors anyway."
"Hey, didn't you drink back in the day, Suyeon...?"
"You wanna go drink?"
Iseo shook her head vigorously, and Myeongjeon led the girls to the café inside the building. After ordering coffee, she opened the envelope. Six 50,000-won bills.
"...300,000 won? Aren't there four of us?"
"Not bad. Must be because it sold out."
"Uh, does this add up...?"
Various reactions popped up. One doubting the amount, one satisfied, one confused despite having heard the details.
Myeongjeon pocketed the cash for now and transferred money to the girls' accounts. 75,000 won each.
"No, Suyeon, you should take more. You led most of the practice and you're the leader."
Hyeona and Seoha nodded at Iseo's words, but Myeongjeon shook her head. In a band, money matters had to be clean. No need for arguments over who gets more.
That's why she ignored Hyeona's suggestion: "How about keeping 100,000 won as band funds?"
Band funds could lead to management issues later. Just split costs when needed.
With the money sorted, Myeongjeon pondered. 300,000 for us means...
"If we got 300,000, the planners probably made over 2 million. And with the merch sales earlier, maybe around 3 million."
"Probably."
Myeongjeon finished her calculations and spoke. From total revenue, ticket platforms take 5-20%, plus taxes around 20%. Profit split is usually 60:40 within 80% limits. Artists split their share further. So their band got 8% of 40%, divided by five.
Reverse calculating... Pure ticket payout to band: 1.5 million. Planners' share: 2.25 million. Factor in merch and opaque accounting... Yeah, around 3 million for them.
She could nitpick with the full breakdown, but it wasn't worth it for pocket change.
"Isn't it too little...? We sold it out, after all."
Hyeona's unintentional grumble slipped out.
"That's why everyone dreams of band success. If we rented that whole venue solo and sold out, how much do you think we'd make?"
The girls started calculating. Myeongjeon did it for them.
"Around 5 million. Then subtract taxes, venue rental, contractors... Leaves 2-3 million max. Say 2 million for us after a 2-hour show. 500,000 an hour."
"500,000 for 2 hours?!"
Hyeona's eyes lit up with delight. Myeongjeon egged her on.
"Say 1,000 seats at 30,000 won. 30 million gross. Platforms, taxes, rental, crews... Leaves 15 million. Our cut over 300,000 straight up for a 1,000-seat show...!"
"Hnggh!"
"But that's the hard part—actually succeeding."
Seoha doused the excitement. If it were that easy, it'd be a band golden age.
"Happens at live clubs too—play a full day, end up with zero. Or whole band splits 70,000."
"Th-that make sense?"
"Live clubs usually do counting pay."
Iseo looked shocked, but Myeongjeon explained. A bitter topic; she craved a cigarette, but her hand found none unconsciously.
"Say 100-seat venue, 20,000 won tickets. 50 people: 1 million. Staff wages, club ops, one free drink per ticket... Fixed costs and drinks eat 400,000. Leaves 600,000. Club takes 40%, performers 20%... Four bands: 50,000 each. But 50k won't cut it. So they ask at the door 'Who you here for?' and split accordingly. No one for you? Zero."
"That make sense? Performed but zero pay?"
"Clubs can't dig holes to survive."
Iseo was appalled by the details, but Myeongjeon sympathized a bit with the clubs. Losing one band hurts the scene, but losing a club shakes everything. Fewer clubs mean no venues for bands.
"Dropping from five to four clubs... Venues vanish, chain reaction. Bands might hate it, but clubs staying alive is key."
"Does that make sense? You work, you get paid. Dumping deficits on bands."
"Fair point..."
An eternal Korean rock scene debate; Myeongjeon had no interest in arguing. Anyway, that was indie band talk—far from their path. The girls agreed to grants and auditions beyond.
Since they're in, go as far as possible.
...Of course, only if the old "Ha Suyeon" apologizes to the girls she wronged. Sincere apology is the only way.
"Anyway."
Myeongjeon cleared her throat and continued.
"For the grant, we've got one song done. Next one's coming soon. Iseo, handle lyrics for both. For arrangements, whole band brainstorms together."
Myeongjeon pulled up her phone screen. Places she had no reason to visit as Seo Myeongjeon... but now, as Ha Suyeon, she had to. She was new to this scene.
"Next up... performing at these indie live clubs."
The screen showed a list of Hongdae-area indie live clubs: acoustic spots, modern rock, standard rock.
"Three months till grant season starts proper... Finish songs this month, practice two more cover sets for these clubs in between. Once next original drops, rehearse four tracks total, audition at clubs, gain real experience... That's our next schedule."