Chapter 22
Chapter 22
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Grandpa's House and the Recording Studio
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"Excuse me."
"No need to stand on ceremony."
The house was impeccably clean—hard to believe a lone grandpa lived there by himself.
A large family photo hung in the living room.
Grandpa told me to give Mom a call, then whipped up some doenjang stew for me.
I pretended to phone the nonexistent Mom and took a seat at the table. The aroma was making my mouth water.
The first spoonful of stew hit my taste buds with a heavy dose of Grandpa's affection. A bit overly so.
'Grandpa... how much doenjang did you put in this...?'
It was salty as all get-out, but I chased it with water and polished off every last grain of rice and drop of broth.
After all, it wasn't easy for him to go all out like this for a kid he'd just met.
As I rinsed my mouth with water, Grandpa asked,
"You do any chores at home?"
"Well, my parents never paid much attention to me, but I was raised delicately enough that I've never even touched a drop of dish soap..."
"Lord almighty, enough chatter. Wet that dishcloth over there and wipe down the table."
"Got it."
With Grandpa's bad back, I handled the dishes, fetched water for the balcony full of potted plants, mopped the floors, and hung up the laundry from the washer.
I even got praised for being handy. Felt pretty good.
Grandpa pulled an apple from the fridge and asked,
"You know how to peel fruit? ...That blank look says it all."
"Believe it or not, I'm the precious type who's only ever eaten fruit peeled by others."
Grandpa shot me a look that screamed 'What the heck?'
"Better learn now. When you meet a nice girl and get married someday, you'll score big points by peeling it all pretty like this."
"I'm not really thinking about marriage..."
The only marriage in my life would be in-game content—and only if it came with perks.
"...What'd you say?"
And with that, Grandpa's full-on lecture barrage began, his face turning beet red.
At first, I just sat there quietly and took it.
"You planning to grow old and die alone? You look like you've never even talked to a girl, and if you're thinking like that too, you're hopeless."
But this grandpa showed no signs of winding down anytime soon.
By the end, I was munching on the cute rabbit-shaped apple he'd peeled for me and firing back.
"That's not true! Girls who only knew my name and face have asked me out!"
"Pfft, big talk. They must be blind. What do they see in a guy with nothing but his eyes going for him? I'll dig out my prime photos—take a look and snap out of it."
Okay, sure, I didn't have standout handsome features beyond my eyes—but I wasn't ugly either.
Right to my face like this? Harsh.
"Take a good look! I don't have a single ugly feature!"
Grandpa, rummaging through the dresser for those photos, stared at my face for a long moment before grudgingly muttering agreement.
Don't forget: my current face was just less handsome than the original—not ugly by any means. Anyway.
Time to pray again today.
Give me back my face, please.
I charged my dead phone and turned it on late. Missed calls and texts from Ban Yo-han piled up.
Honestly, I figured he wouldn't care much about others' business, so seeing this made me feel a tad guilty. I even threw in some emojis to explain.
Anyway, Grandpa Go Su-jong's place was paradise.
Wi-Fi blasting, boiler nice and toasty.
I'd love to never leave.
The system seemed dead set on kicking me out, though.
As I peeled and ate a tangerine while watching a music show, Grandpa casually asked,
"So, what'd you fight with your mom about?"
"We didn't fight."
Whether my in-game parents or the real-world ones who spawned me—never fought with either.
I popped a tangerine segment into my mouth. Then grimaced.
"Ugh, sour."
"Clumsy kid. These ones I peeled are soft and sweet."
Grandpa slid the plate of peeled tangerines my way.
I split one in half and ate it.
"You think I'm gonna let you crash here forever?"
"Aww, no?"
"Why would I want a cheeky punk like you around? Sun's up tomorrow, and you're out."
Tomorrow?! I grabbed Grandpa's hand and pulled the most pitiful face I could muster.
That's right, good job, system.
I've thought this before, but there has to be a person behind this system.
No other way it could piss people off so effectively.
"...If you got nowhere to go after leaving, just come back."
"Yes!"
Hehe, home sweet home.
PickHeartOnRaon [Just saw—phone was charging]
PickHeartOnRaon [At a house now]
PickHeartOnRaon [Sorry for worrying you]
PickHeartOnRaon [(Sorry puppy emoji)]
Ban Yo-han furrowed his brow slightly as he checked On Raon's belated reply, then flipped his phone face down.
He'd sensed something off from the random "win and I'll let you crash" comment, called, got a power-off tone, and even worried something bad had happened.
If On Raon had been in contact with Ban Yo-han in any way, he'd have gotten a message about a massive favorability drop.
Watching Ban Yo-han, Seed Entertainment trainee Kang Ji-woo asked,
"What's up?"
"Nothing."
That face said otherwise.
"The guy who called earlier?"
"Yeah. Looks like a total scam magnet, and he was spouting weird stuff, so I thought something happened."
"Good as long as nothing did. Chat more with him there. How was it?"
Ban Yo-han cracked a faint smile at the innocent remark, then suddenly grabbed a nearby cushion and started whacking Kang Ji-woo's back.
Intel-type Ban Yo-han's strength stat was over five times that of newbie On Raon.
The fluffy heart-shaped cushion packed a surprising punch, making Kang Ji-woo hunch over with a yelp.
"Ban Yo-han, you nuts? I'm injured! Cast's not off yet!"
Kang Ji-woo had a cast from below the knee to his foot on his right leg.
The moment he glanced at the blue cast and relaxed, the cushion assault resumed.
"What does that matter? Your leg's hurt, but I'm hitting your back. And because of that cast, I had to go in your place."
"You volunteered as a sub since you were on leave anyway..."
"Yeah, me. But all the company trainees bailed, leaving just me. Keep bragging if you're proud."
"Haha, not bragging—just did what anyone would..."
"You laughing?"
"Sorry! Ow, everything's my bad!"
After thoroughly thrashing him with the cushion, Ban Yo-han wiped the sweat from his forehead, looking refreshed.
Then he grinned brightly and said,
"True. It was more fun than I expected."
"...Dude."
There were some annoying bits, but whatever.
Ban Yo-han shrugged shamelessly.
Seo Moon-gyeol walked into the break room with drinks just as the patient Kang Ji-woo was vowing bloody revenge on his clearly unlucky, slightly flawed longtime buddy.
He handed warm chocolate drinks to the seemingly chummy pair and asked flatly,
"Hyung, you hear from Raon?"
"Just now. Battery died."
Kang Ji-woo, cracking open his can with a thanks, turned and cut in sharply.
"Raon?"
"The guy from earlier."
"That On guy? On Raon? From True?"
"Yeah. You know him?"
Kang Ji-woo's unusually sharp reaction from his usually upbeat self made Ban Yo-han and Seo Moon-gyeol's faces turn serious too.
After pondering gravely, Kang Ji-woo spoke up decisively.
"When that guy was at True..."
The next day, I left Grandpa Go Su-jong's with a crisp 10,000-won bill infused with his noble intent: Don't starve or freeze out there.
I'd insisted I was fine money-wise, of course.
"Take it. When an elder offers, just say thanks and accept."
"Thank you!"
Convinced. Gotta become a cool grandpa like him in 60 years.
I headed out for the Pick Your Heart 3 signal song, Heart Attack, recording.
The staff's updated materials from last night said today was the day.
With Grandpa turning in early, I'd crashed early too—checked the schedule that morning and rushed to prep.
I took public transit to the Seoul studio.
About forty trainees were there, plus Heart Attack's composer Jeong Ha-neul, aka Sky Jeong.
Nagase Ritsu, hanging with Star Production trainees, spotted me and waved lightly. I waved back.
The dark brown-designed studio had soft lighting for a luxurious vibe.
Soon, Jeong Ha-neul rose from his plush solo chair, where he'd been listening to music amid the trainees awkwardly lounging on sofas or standing nearby.
He scanned them.
"Let's see... two, four, six, eight, twelve, four... Yep, thirty-seven. All here. Hi, I'm composer Jeong Ha-neul, handling Heart Attack."
"Hello!"
"As you know, we called you for the Heart Attack digital single recording dropping soon. We're recording everyone except subpar F-grades over two days, but those who nail the vibe I'm going for get main parts—you know that, right?"
"Yes!"
After a few quick explanations, he called names and handed out lyric sheets marked with highlighter sections.
"Trainee Oh Hyun-jin."
"Yes."
"Finally, trainee On Raon."
"Thank you."
My sheet had my name and number 23 up top, with chorus and refrain highlighted.
"The number by your name is your order, so if it's way off, feel free to practice in the side room."
"Got it."
"Don't tense up too much before recording. We'll start with trainee Seo Chan-bin. Head in and warm up."
Seo Chan-bin entered the booth with a clearly nervous face. With my later slot, I headed to the side room.
After belting it endlessly during camp, nothing new to learn.
I warmed up casually with the others, pondering the composer's desired feel while trying the highlighted parts in various styles.
Back before tiring out, recording was underway.
Asked the trainee next to me; seventh one in.
Slower pace than expected. Composer seemed picky.