The Session Guitarist's Proposal

YouTube Myeongjeon checked the email one more time. The subject line read [Collaboration Proposal with YouTube White Room].

The content could be summed up like this:

Myeongjeon tilted her head slightly. Im Junhong... the name rang a bell. Ah, right—that kid from the early 2000s who'd strutted around bragging about graduating from some arts college. He'd been introduced by someone, claiming he was a genius and all that.

Come to think of it, that guy came looking for me a few years back too.

One day he showed up drunk, rambling about hitting a wall, no potential for growth, drunken nonsense like that. Back then, Myeongjeon had been living in the countryside, building a house and just playing guitar. There was spare space, so she'd let him crash for a few days and taught him some guitar. After that, they'd kept in touch via letters or occasional news.

Myeongjeon hovered her hands over the keyboard, raising and lowering them repeatedly for a moment. She'd just asked Lee Hyein if it was okay to check this out and gotten the green light, so all she had to do was reply... But then she recalled the recent comments on her community posts and YouTube.

Does it really come off that mismatched? Without overthinking ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it, she drafted a reply.

Seems fine. No matter how she looked at it, nothing seemed off. What's the problem? Isn't this how you write?

Myeongjeon stared at the internet for a bit, then searched for [How Modern High School Girls Write]... but of course, nothing useful came up.

She pondered for a moment, then had a change of perspective. Ha Suyeon was a high school girl to begin with, so weren't her 'friends' high school girls too? She recalled one of her friends' online speech style and tried drafting again.

"Suyeon-ah~ Whatcha doing?"

"Oh, just writing an email for a sec. Replying to that one from earlier."

"Oh yeah? Does my little girl know how to write a business email? Want Mom to teach you?"

Hyein sneaked up from behind and hugged Suyeon, peeking at the monitor. The drafted email read:

Hyein momentarily floated question marks above her head. What the hell was this? Some incomprehensible jumble of characters scattered across the screen, like it was wrong from the very first letter.

"Suyeon-ah. This is..."

"Does it sound like a high school girl?"

Suyeon's face, turned toward Hyein, was full of eager expectation—a genuine look of pride in her 'girly' writing. Faced with that expression, Hyein couldn't bring herself... to say no. But still, this was too much.

"Not at all."

"Huh???"

"Suyeon-ah, it doesn't sound like a high school girl at all. And you can't reply to a business email like this in the first place."

Business emails have clear grammar rules. Starting with the greeting... Hyein began explaining.

Myeongjeon felt deeply wronged. She'd just tried to write in a way that matched her age group—why was she getting lectured like this?

["I'm still searching for you, the you I never met that day..."]

Myeongjeon listened to music with her AirPods Max on. It was a song she'd composed, with Iseo volunteering to write the lyrics. The lyrics... seemed pretty decent. They fit nicely with the rhythm she'd made.

Come to think of it, Iseo sings pretty well too.

Until now, Myeongjeon had handled vocals in the band. No special reason—just that she was the only one who could sing while playing an instrument. But lately, Iseo's skills had improved by leaps and bounds. Her vocals weren't bad either. Not amazingly great, but distinctive... a tone clearly different from 'Ha Suyeon's.'

This level should be fine for vocals. Myeongjeon could keep doing it, but she saw no need to. She didn't particularly like singing anyway. It distracted from the guitar.

For now, maybe try her as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sub-vocalist.

With that thought, Myeongjeon checked the practice videos the kids had sent. Everyone was diligently keeping up—no one slacking on progress or practice volume. They seemed on track with the previous schedule.

"How's the band going?"

The question came after she took off her headphones. Lee Hyein was looking at her through the rearview mirror.

"Eh, going... decently, I guess."

Myeongjeon answered that way. Her 'mom' smiled brightly at the response. Myeongjeon thought there was no need for her to tag along even for this... but technically, 'Ha Suyeon' was a minor. She couldn't outright refuse Hyein's insistence.

"If you need anything, just tell Mom anytime. I'll push hard for you. You know Mom makes good money, right? It's all so you can do whatever you want."

"Mom's already helping a ton. Way too much."

She was splitting costs as much as possible... but running a band wasn't cheap. Most of it still came from Lee Hyein's wallet. Myeongjeon had a conscience and tried to cover expenses with her own work, but Hyein wouldn't allow it. Something about it being a parent's duty.

"Really?"

Hyein grinned and turned back to the road. Myeongjeon just wondered what the hell 'Ha Suyeon' had against such a great woman to treat her so badly.

"Hello. I'm Im Junhong... Is this young lady...?"

"No, I'm her mom. Lee Hyein."

"Whoa, you look so young and beautiful, I got confused. Scared me there~ Ahaha."

The usual greetings. But even to Myeongjeon's eyes, Im Junhong's compliment seemed sincere. And why not—Lee Hyein was stunningly beautiful. Strangers would believe she was late 20s.

"I'm Ha Suyeon."

Myeongjeon said that and extended her hand. Junhong hesitated a split second before shaking it.

She did say her mom was coming... She's definitely a minor, huh?

Mom wore a navy-tinged black suit. Daughter: unique black knit top, black slacks, guitar on her back. Matching coats—coordinated? Both absolute beauties; Junhong thought the husband was lucky as he led them inside.

His usual multi-purpose space: practice room, studio, workspace, recording booth, filming setup... whatever.

"Have a seat over there."

"Thank you."

As they sat on the sofa, the editor brought coffee. Sipping it, Junhong spoke up.

"I didn't write it properly in the email... but this is me."

Myeongjeon took the business card he offered.

She flipped it over. A few representative tracks listed.

This one too? She's done quite a few recordings. This was offered to me once—she did it.

Myeongjeon glanced at Junhong's face. He looked subtly expectant. But she didn't react.

"Whoa, you recorded Yi Myeongheon's [To You], Teacher?"

"Ah yes, I helped out a little. Just the guitar... Ahaha!"

The reaction came from the side instead. Hyein must've known the song. It was pretty famous, after all. Myeongjeon twirled a strand of hair and slipped the card into her wallet.

Meanwhile, the two chatted away.

"Anyway, for the broadcast... revenue and content are as discussed—no changes. Here's the script for now."

Junhong slid over a few sheets of paper. A script for YouTube? Planning to direct that meticulously? But the content wasn't super detailed. Just notes on recording a live stream for YouTube: what around minute X, what around minute Y... broadcast flow outline. General direction, must-mention points, etc.

"And... I'm an endorser for a specific brand, so if you could play this guitar at least once during the stream, that'd be great. Possible?"

He handed over a guitar. Sleek, high-end from a famous brand. Myeongjeon took it and gave it a quick once-over. Intonation spot-on, no issues. True high-end.

"Nice guitar."

"Right? I customized it a bit... but the company makes great ones anyway. So, if possible..."

"Should be fine. I don't picky about guitars."

Myeongjeon liked Fenders, but she wasn't some Yngwie Malmsteen who refused anything else. Before dying, her house had 2-3 each of high-end like James Tyler, John Suhr, Tom Anderson, Don Grosh, Michael Kelly... Session guitarists couldn't be choosy. The payer is king.

"Uh... mind if I see your guitar ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠too?"

"Sure."

Myeongjeon pulled her guitar from the case. Her gleaming black beauty, the Black Strat, emerged.

A subtle shift in his bored expression as he sneaked a peek.

"Oh... Black Strat... right?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"Is this a famous guitar?"

To ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Junhong's question as he took it, Myeongjeon answered. Then Hyein's follow-up.

"Pretty famous. David Gilmour... might not ring a bell. Anyway, think of it as a replica of one used by an incredible guitarist. High quality too... But didn't you buy it for her, ma'am?"

"No, I didn't pick this guitar specifically. She said she needed money for one, so I gave her about two million won, and one day she just came home with this."

Junhong looked puzzled at Hyein's answer.

"...Two million won? No way you could buy this for that..."

Myeongjeon sensed the mood turning weird as he muttered.

Why's this guy suddenly obsessed with the guitar? It's not stolen or anything...

She glanced around with a slightly aggrieved eye-roll. Junhong puzzled, Hyein innocently smiling, clueless. Then Junhong stared at the guitar longer and suddenly looked up.

"This is... Teacher Myeongjeon's guitar...? How does a student have this...?"