My Own Memorial Concert
A mournful weong— vibrated from the phone. Myeongjeon pulled it out without a second thought. Even if she never silenced it during class, Park Dain gawked at the sheer audacity of whipping it out so boldly...
Myeongjeon checked the incoming email.
The contents were pretty much what the subject line suggested.
These things never come at a convenient time. Myeongjeon gave a wry smile and slipped the phone back into her bag. When she looked up, the teacher was glaring at her with a seriously pissed-off expression.
She pretended to bury her face in her book, and the teacher let it slide.
"Getting cocky again just 'cause you're a sophomore?"
"I had to check my email on time. Can't help it with business on the line..."
Park Dain stifled a laugh at Suyeon's response. The band's activities seemed to be going well, and the apology tour was wrapping up too. Things were looking up all around.
If only things with Senior Juhee wrap up nicely... but that seems unlikely. Dain wasn't close with Sung Juhee, so she didn't know the details, but according to Kwon Ji-hye, she was still sharpening her knives. It didn't look like it'd end prettily, whatever happened.
Well, she said she had a plan, so it'll work out somehow... Dain yawned. It was one of those days when the warm sunlight made her eyelids heavy.
"Looks like it turned out great. Good work."
"You too."
Myeongjeon stepped out of the recording booth and took a sip of the coffee Junhong handed her. This hot tracking session was payback for lending out the Tom Anderson guitar during their session gig.
Come to think of it, she didn't even use the guitar back then. Do I really need to do this recording? But it was already tracked, so Myeongjeon decided not to be petty. These tangible and intangible assets were good to stockpile anyway.
"I watched your recent show. It was awesome."
"Oh... yeah? You were there?"
"Nah. Paradox streams live on YouTube, so I tuned in since you were performing. Your take on Hysteria was killer—the synth arrangement especially, and that bass was spot-on too."
Myeongjeon felt a swell of pride she hadn't earned. A total newbie had shed her rookie skin and was now earning props from a pro session guy.
"That wasn't me—it was the bassist kid."
"Oh... she's got some real talent, huh."
"Yeah. Not prodigy-level or anything, but she can hold her own in front of a crowd."
Junhong felt like he was talking to a much older man for a second. Well, makes sense—she's Myeongjeon's student. Like teacher, like pupil.
That reminded him—he had two pieces of news for Suyeon.
"Uh, anyway, I have a reporter friend."
"Yeah?"
"Wanna do an interview? It's the This is Indie series."
Myeongjeon recalled the series. It had a solid rep for spotlighting indie rock bands across genres. She'd read a few.
But didn't it go downhill? Word was the quality had tanked lately. Or maybe sour grapes from bands that didn't make the cut.
"Hmm..."
"I think it'd be good. Any press is good promo."
"True, but... I'll ask the bandmates, though I don't see the point."
Junhong looked puzzled. Why pass up the opportunity?
But Myeongjeon had her reasons.
No real upside to a feature right now.
Interviews were for broad exposure. But Group Sound didn't need promo yet.
We can't gig anyway. All minors, tied to school. Hype now would just waste momentum. Better to lean into the mystique. Money wasn't an issue either.
Plus, "Ha Suyeon"'s past. Band stuff meant airing her history, and even old-school press had reach. An unaddressed school violence scandal blowing up would torpedo her plans.
"Anyway, I've got my reasons."
"Fair enough... I'll tell my friend no interview. But it's a solid chance..."
"Yeah, but still..."
Junhong figured she just didn't want the spotlight as Suyeon brushed it off. But the second bit of news would draw eyes inevitably.
"One more thing—good news for you, I think."
Myeongjeon stared blankly, and Junhong handed over a leaflet crammed with gig info.
Myeongjeon looked—and froze in literal shock. The leaflet slipped from her trembling hands.
"Is... is this for real?"
Seeing Suyeon's stunned face, Junhong winced. Too soon? She's not over it yet.
"Yeah... sensitive topic, I get it."
But he couldn't delay. She was the spiritual successor. Putting it off meant fading from memory.
"Still... please come if you can. You're the true heir. Even just a visit—mind's heavy or not."
"Uh..."
Myeongjeon heard but it didn't register. She was still reeling.
Because the headline read:
Seo Myeongjeon Memorial Concert
What the hell is this?
Myeongjeon stared at the leaflet, deep in thought. What to do?
A memorial concert for herself? Sure, it made sense. Musicians loved "commemorative concerts." Probably: wanna do a show... need something big... hey, Seo Myeongjeon just died. Perfect hook—crowds guaranteed.
But memorials mean playing my songs. Do I even have any worth covering?
Myeongjeon was brutally objective about her past self. Killer guitarist, zero composing talent. Solo albums tanked; fame only in sessions. What "hit" to memorialize? "Seo Myeongjeon sessioned on this—let's play it!"?
They could... She leaned back, staring at the ceiling. Skip or go?
She'd rather bail. Alive—but socially dead—yet they're mourning her, expecting tears? "Boo-hoo, Teacher why'd you go?"
Problem: "Ha Suyeon" promoted as "Seo Myeongjeon"'s disciple. Bailing screams ungrateful brat. "Too grief-stricken"? Laughable—she was thriving.
The world didn't know Suyeon was Myeongjeon, so play dumb and attend? Fine. But her shame couldn't handle it.
"Suyeon, can I come in?"
"Yeah."
Myeongjeon slumped in her chair, mumbling weakly. In came Lee Hyein, creeping in hesitantly before spotting the leaflet.
"Seo Myeongjeon memorial...? That guitar teacher you mentioned?"
"Uh... yeah... sorta... uh-huh..."
"They're even doing a full concert. Must've been a big deal."
As Myeongjeon floundered, Lee Hyein picked it up, murmuring.
"You know any of his songs? He taught you—should check one out."
"...Streetlight at No. 38."
Myeongjeon dredged up one decently composed track. Critics hated it, but whatever.
"Not on YouTube."
Not even that?!
"W-well... others exist. Like Beyond the Blue Night."
"Heard that—didn't Byeon Juhee write it?"
"She did... but he covered it."
Fueled by rage at her post-debut flops, she'd gone "Korean Eric Clapton" mode with covers. That one charted—only that one. Rest? "60s rip-off."
Lee Hyein listened on YouTube, humming "Nice song~" Myeongjeon stewed.
Why did Seo Myeongjeon's flops hurt Ha Suyeon so bad? Why relive her mentor's sad history? Why suffer her past shame?
Myeongjeon just wanted to pass out.