Being Young and Pretty – Nothing Special About the Four Otherwise
Invasion from Seoul. Being young, and pretty. Aside from that, there was nothing particularly noteworthy about the four of them. The girls, dressed in achromatic long skirts that gave off a uniform-like vibe, each took their positions on stage.
"The song is called Mirage. We'll get started now."
What the hell.
Her tone was like a bucket of ice water dumped over their heads, leaving Suyeon with a vague sense of offense. The previous bands had at least exchanged a few words or cracked a smile before starting, but these girls? Nothing. The audience murmured in similar discomfort... but that atmosphere didn't last long.
They could sense the tension radiating from the band on stage.
The keyboard opened the song. A languid sound that stretched out leisurely, trailing off like a hem dragging on the ground. Layered on top came the bass—blunt and low, yet all the sweeter for it. Then the guitar.
The start wasn't anything special. Just the ordinary ring of a guitar echoing out.
Suyeon wondered if there was something different about it, but she couldn't quite pinpoint what.
The world outside the window
in the fading dusk,
a low murmur
at a volume matching the instruments.
No, if anything, the guitar was drowning out the voice. The audience felt a jarring disconnect from the polar-opposite vibe compared to the bands before. Some were already hitting the vote button.
Come on, there might be a twist later—why vote so soon?
Suyeon felt the same dissatisfaction with the mood, but shouldn't they at least hear it all before voting?
Are you really there
beyond the horizon?
But even she started doubting by then: Is there really something coming, or are they just a band with hipster syndrome?
Then, like shattering the audience's daze, a ferocious guitar blast rang out in an instant. But it faded just as quickly, as if it had never happened.
...Or maybe it wasn't the guitar. The band on stage barely moved despite the intensity.
Roadside dandelions,
blue sky,
drifting clouds.
Pushing past that momentary disturbance, the drums kicked in like a heartbeat, pulsing gradually. The thudding sound seemed to flow from the speakers into the ground itself. Thud-thud, thud-thud, it crept right up to their feet.
And with the guitar resuming, Suyeon finally understood what it meant for a guitar to sing.
Her ultimate bias, Han Seungyun from 2MAJOR, would sometimes grumble on Instagram Live: "I wanna play guitar so bad. I wanna make the guitar sing."
She'd comforted her fave back then, thinking, Isn't it just about playing it?
'Sing' means that. If Seungyun really wanted to do that, he'd have to play a hell of a lot more.
Meanwhile, the bass and piano repeated a simple riff, gradually raising the pitch to build tension, joined by the drums. The guitar on top... was still singing. No, now it was more like a howl—a deafening roar.
The savage performance swept over the audience like an avalanche from a mountaintop.
What the—
Suyeon thought it for the second time today. But this time, it meant confusion, not dismissal.
The guitar was no longer playing a melody. From the fingertips of the girl slightly bowing her head over it, sounds poured out like mass-produced goods from a conveyor belt—regular or irregular. Amplified through the speakers, they spread, conquering the space. Dominating. Subjugating.
The venue, filled with sound and fury, was controlled by a single guitar.
But even eternal moments must end. The performance cut off abruptly, like yanking a computer's plug.
What remained after the "lump of noise" masquerading as music vanished was a desolate stage met with silence.
Someone shot up clapping in the quiet. One became two, two became eight.
Why do I chase after you,
abandoning it all?
Standing awkwardly, sitting sheepishly—the participating bands were left behind as the stage ended just like that.
Suyeon sat dazed for a moment, glancing around. Am I the only one feeling this?
Fortunately, plenty shared her sentiment, hesitating over what score to input. She felt the same but punched in a number anyway. Whether it was right or not, who knew.
With the audience votes tallied, it was time for the mentors' picks.
"Mirage—we heard it loud and clear. Should we call it a destruction of form? It was quite the piece in many ways. Care to explain what kind of song it was?"
At one mentor's question, Suyeon tilted her head slightly, as if choosing her words.
"The theme is an ideal paradise, right? I thought that could also mean an ideal performance."
"Yes."
"So, what is an ideal performance? After pondering that a bunch, it hit me: something like blues or jazz, without a fixed frame—pure random improvisation. Because the path itself becomes the music."
"...Yes?"
The mentor's face screamed, What are you talking about? Suyeon felt the same.
What the hell does that mean?
"So we just played it all improvised, from start to finish. No set plan."
"Hold on—if that's true, the whole band did that? You just jammed on stage?"
One mentor couldn't hold back. Suyeon smiled faintly in response.
"No, not quite. The guitar was fully improvised, no plan. But for keys, drums, bass—we set timings and general styles. Rhythm and overall flow. Like that cutoff earlier; stuff like that was planned."
The set went dead silent, like ice water again. Someone in the audience muttering "Does that even make sense?" carried clearly.
Suyeon agreed completely.
They improvised that? And it made sense? She said she'd only been playing a year. If that's a year, why's Seungyun still fumbling? That performance was weird too. Vocals only, huh.
"Alright! What an incredible performance. Mentors, have you all made your picks?"
Normally, more questions would follow, but the stunned silence prompted the MC to jump in. The mentors nodded.
"First, let's see the audience score!"
From what Suyeon had heard, it was out of 100, averaged. It didn't affect this round but would matter hugely next, so the production team begged them not to vote carelessly.
"Audience score...! 62... points!"
Suyeon blinked in disbelief at the announcement. 62? For real?
The MC stammered slightly in shock, and murmurs of "Why so low?" rose from the bands.
"62 points... currently the third-lowest audience score. Now, what about the mentors' picks?!"
The MC rallied cheerfully. With that, the mentors raised their placards.
All five.
"We'll pick Group Sound."
"Our team too..."
"Us as well."
"We'll pick them."
"Same here."
The polar opposite of the audience score. But the mentors seemed unfazed, like they'd expected it.
"After Mystica's 4-pick, Group Sound sweeps 5! Makes me wanna ask the team that didn't pick them why. Care to share?"
"Uh... it's not that the playing was bad or the song sucked."
Mentor Surak started, rubbing his neck awkwardly before continuing.
"The audience just gave 62 points. But mentors gave a full 5-pick. To me, that's symbolic of a disconnect. That performance lacked mass appeal, I'd say."
"Oh~ So Group Sound's the band that can't make money?"
"No, that's not it! Why pretend you don't get it?"
Surak waved off the snarky interruption from beside him.
"Plus, this is a major audition stage, even with losers' bracket. Bringing pure improv? That's massive ego. We wouldn't know how to handle them."
"Got it. Fair points. Yet the other mentors picked Group Sound anyway... Now, mentors' time! Why should Group Sound pick you? Sell it!!"
As the MC hyped it up, the mentors took turns pitching.
With the set in a lull, Suyeon sneakily pulled out her camera, snapping pics of Seungyun and 2MAJOR.
Handsome as ever.
Some audience shot her dirty looks for whipping out a DSLR in the cramped seats, but she ignored them, taking a few more. She'd come for this exact reason—why mind the glares?
After a few more shots, as she went to stow it... she spotted Ha Suyeon staring down the mentors from the stage.
Even max zoom couldn't diminish her flawless skin and looks—not even against Suyeon's faves in 2MAJOR. Her refined face, paired with those indifferent eyes, gave a cool, aloof impression.
Eh, might as well. Could sell the pics or something.
She rationalized it to herself, snapping away at Group Sound. Somehow, she ended up taking more of them than 2MAJOR.
"62 points? That's sabotage, I swear."
"Can't be helped."
Myeongjeon scooped up some affogato. The sweet ice cream melted in his mouth, invigorating his weary body and mind.
Playing fully improvised, no main melody, start to finish. Even for him, with decades on guitar, it had been grueling—his first time, too.
If I'd known it'd be this tough, no way. He took another bite.
"Hey, you order coffee and just eat the ice cream? Get ice cream then."
"Hey, Choi, mind your own eating habits."
What the... Iseo muttered.
Silence fell briefly.
"But... is this okay?"
Hyeona broke it, her voice thick with worry about what lay ahead.
Myeongjeon took another scoop, then tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling.
"No choice if it isn't. What's done is done."
The 5-pick was great. It matched their goal of an overwhelming stage to deter challengers. But that 62 audience score from lacking mass appeal? Among 30 bands, 28th place—dead last among picks.
"Knew a mission like this was coming, wouldn't have done it that way."
"Audience scores impact Round 2 heavily." Spot on.
Their Round 2 mission track, thanks to that score? Vivid Orange's JUMPING!—infamous for its "cringe MV" and "addictive lyrics." Famous not for the song, but the hilarious "engine dance" in the video. A near-decade-old hit that blew up for laughs.