Classroom Shreds and the Echorec's Return
A sleek black private taxi pulled up unexpectedly at the school gate. Who the hell takes a cab to school? And it wasn't even peak tardy hour... As the kids buzzed with curiosity, a girl stepped out and hauled a long something from the trunk. The face they snuck peeks at was familiar—sharp, upturned eyes on a cold expression. The kind that looked anything but gentle, the sort where a blank stare could freeze you solid... Ha Suyeon's face.
A few kids instinctively backed away at the sight. She'd changed a lot lately, sure, but a reputation like hers didn't fade overnight. Still, Suyeon—with a guitar hard case in one hand and her carry-on in the other—waved at them, then realized both hands were occupied and let out an awkward chuckle.
"Ha Suyeon~ What's that?"
"Guitar."
"A guitar? Why?"
"Park Dain was screaming out the window that she'd jump off the roof if I didn't show her what I play for the performance eval."
Suyeon grumbled, but there was no real hostility or annoyance in her tone—just light teasing, like ribbing a friend. The subtle tension among the kids eased without them even realizing it. Suyeon, oblivious, just dragged her carry-on into the school.
"Uh, I did say bring whatever instrument you want..."
The music teacher looked flustered. Myeongjeon didn't reply—instead, he pointed at Dain, whose eyes were sparkling nonstop beside him.
"I was hoping for recorder, but she kept insisting on guitar."
"Hey, no! Being serious about the performance eval is a good thing."
"Yeah, right. If it weren't me, you'd be bragging everywhere about how good you are on guitar."
"Plenty of places to do that."
Myeongjeon shot her an incredulous look, then set a chair in the middle of the slightly cleared music room and placed the amp on top. Wireless amp—thank god, no cable bullshit to set up, he thought. He positioned it just so.
"What song are you playing?"
"Recuerdos de la Alhambra."
"What?"
The teacher blinked in shock. It was half a joke on the list—a piece no kid had even attempted in years. He'd added it thinking it'd be a nice treat for the class, something impressive to share. Why was this girl suddenly volunteering?
She plays a bit, huh? But it wasn't even an electric guitar piece. Francisco Tárrega composed it back when electrics didn't exist. Nonstop, relentless tremolo picking—that was its signature.
"You sure? With that song?"
"Yes."
At her firm nod, the teacher pulled out his Yamaha Silent Guitar from his bag—a portable, assemblable classical for student accompaniments. The kids went "ooh" again at the weird shape.
"I'll start the accompaniment."
"Okay."
She recalled the intro. How does it start again? It'd been ages since she'd played it herself. She started tentatively, and the main guitar joined right in. The warm classical tone, tweaked through the amp for a decent approximation.
"Holy shit, Ha Suyeon..."
"How's she that good?"
"If she does this, we're all getting zeros, right? Isn't this relative grading?"
"It's absolute..."
As the kids' cheers and lame chatter mixed, Suyeon's tremolo flowed on. Not pro-level execution, but insanely advanced for a high schooler.
Full marks, no question, the teacher decided after thirty seconds. But the playing didn't stop. A live performance like this was rare—polished, dedicated. Sorry to the girl, but he wanted the class to hear this piece... so he kept accompanying.
After school. Pestered for "one more song," Myeongjeon played Philip Sayce's Alchemy for them. The kids scattered like the tide going out. Even Dain, who'd stuck around, said post-song, "You're too good... but not my taste. Isn't this old folks' music?"
That old... Philip Sayce was pretty young, Myeongjeon thought. Alchemy's from 2012... wait, that's ten years ago already? Time flies.
He grumbled inwardly, hoisted his gear, and headed down the hall. He could've taken the central stairs, but some childhood-trauma DNA kept him away. Then—thumping bass and cheers. The low end vibrated the floor right up through his shoes. Drawn in, he peeked into another class packed with nosy high schoolers.
"Hey! Suyeon!"
Choi Iseo popped her head out.
"What's up?"
"Kids begged for bass. Playing some stuff I've been practicing solo."
Iseo was handling bass and vocals, YouTube on accompaniment duty. Cheers cut off the second Suyeon appeared. She'd changed, yeah—but years of her delinquent terror in Jongno were burned in. Reflex reaction.
"Suyeon... unnie played guitar too?"
A first-year, friendly with Iseo, asked timidly from the second-year room. Suyeon just nodded silently.
Doesn't recognize me, huh. Suyeon stayed stone-faced in most situations (amnesia vibes). But Iseo figured she could read her expressions better now.
"You know this song?"
"Eh... kinda."
"How?"
Iseo gawked at her own question's answer. Suyeon furrowed her brow like it was obvious.
"The one you shove down my throat every day—'listen to this, just try playing it once'? Ears bleeding, transcribed it by ear, played it a couple times. Heard the start just now too."
"Ooh... jam with me?"
Kids started "ooh"-ing cautiously. Suyeon sighed, pulled her guitar from the case. Instant gig, instant cheers. Iseo grinned wide.
The J-rock TikTok wave had hit teens hard lately. As a fan from way back, Iseo loved the chance to show off. Music eval time—she "reluctantly" brought bass, aced it, then "well, since I have it..." and demoed TikTok hits. Kids loved it. This request was viral too—and her fave. But one issue...
"Don't know it well, so rhythm only outside highlights. Ad-lib the rest."
Iseo nodded. Suyeon tweaked tone. Kids eyed the weirdness, some pulled phones to film... Suyeon finished setup. Iseo nodded. Guitar kicked in.
No "kinda"—her hands flew impossibly precise. Kids gasped. Iseo slotted bass perfectly, started singing. As rap part loomed—mumbled backup from the side. Iseo nearly forgot her lines in shock.
Ha Suyeon... rapping? In this?
Nah, not rap. Mumbled like rap at first. Of course she wouldn't memorize that. Iseo slapped bass on. Just guitar, bass, claps, stomps... but it filled the room like a full band. The core? Suyeon nailing the rap now, hands everywhere like she had four—never letting silence in.
"Whoa... for real?"
Sharp-eared kids clocked it: frantic playing, but bass shone through. Highlighting Iseo's raw strengths, covering slips seamlessly. Like she'd ditched her old spotlight-hog self ages ago. Mid-song spotlight part—Iseo blanked, stared at Suyeon. Suyeon stared back mid-riff: Sing, dummy. Awkward beat. Iseo blushed, sang on with a faint smile.
"That was fun."
"Eh..."
Myeongjeon peeled off clingy Iseo. Gig bag would've been easy to shove, but hard case made it tricky.
"Heavy! Back off. These two are killing me already."
"Want me to carry?"
Chin on his shoulder, Iseo snatched the carry-on.
"Nah, give it. Taxi coming soon anyway."
"Ooh, rich girl perks. Guess I'll walk."
"Ride?"
"Nah, good exercise. Not that heavy."
Myeongjeon eyed her. Suyeon was tall for a girl, but Iseo just kept shooting up. In height and other ways... He cleared his throat awkwardly. Iseo shot him a what's your deal? look. Quiet moment—then phone rang.
"Change that ringtone... it's weird."
"Not bothering me."
iPhone default blared. Myeongjeon set down the case, answered.
Familiar guy's voice.
"Suyeon! Im Jonghun here. Got a sec?"
"Yeah, heading home. What's up?"
"Uh, remember our memorial concert? Guy you greeted? Said he loved your show, wants to give you a gift..."
"Huh?"
Random gift talk? Myeongjeon blinked. Then—joy exploded across his face.
"Tracked down a Binson Echorec—Seo Myeongjeon's actual unit. Wants to chat about it. Can you come today?"
"I'm going!! Thank you!! Right now!!"
His rare ecstatic yell made Iseo jump back. But he had no time—his gear was calling.
"Whoa, where?"
"Gear! Getting my gear."
"Can I come?"
Myeongjeon eyed her eager face. Why not...