The Girl Who Only Looked at You (Chorus)

Namhun let out a silent cheer inside as he checked the final score.

'Yes!'

Maybe because it was his second take, the other stats had risen too, but as expected, the proficiency that had been a measly 34 jumped all the way to 81.

Thanks to that, the audience reaction hit 99!

The overall score broke past 90.

'This is exactly how you use this ability!'

But there was something more below the overall score.

'Performance bonus?'

As he focused on it, another score sheet popped up.

Namhun mumbled under his breath without realizing it.

"…What the hell is this?"

Cat paw aegyo?

I did something like that?

And this counts as a performance too?

As he racked his brain, vague memories of some action surfaced.

…Suddenly, he really didn't want to leave the recording booth.

Wonhyeong dragged the dazed Namhun out of the recording booth, and Kang Seongdae burst into booming laughter.

"Saljjakhung… Saljjakhung… Kahaha! Yeah, that's it! Wonhyeong, what's this guy's name again?"

"Namhun. Jang Namhun."

"Right, Jang Namhun! You little punk, you've got talent. Real big-league potential! I can't for the life of me figure out how a guy with instincts like yours ended up busted."

Wonhyeong panicked at Kang Seongdae's blunt words.

"Whoa, hyungnim… 'Busted' is a bit much."

But Kang Seongdae, buzzing with excitement, wasn't listening.

"Well, geniuses get their trials, right? Something like that? Seryeon! So… what was the song title again?"

Jin Seryeon was dumbfounded by the question.

The guy who'd stubbornly insisted on not changing it couldn't even remember it himself?

But hierarchies were hierarchies.

"…'Woman Looking Only at You.'"

Kang Seongdae's face twisted at the title.

"Ugh. Lame, super lame! Saljjakhung. Perfect fit. Feels right. Matches our Seryeon's image too. Damn, killer! Title's Saljjakhung now. What do you think, Seryeon?"

Seryeon had been hoping for any change, but Saljjakhung kinda hit home.

"I like it too."

That's when Wonhyeong, gauging the mood, slyly held out the lyric sheet.

He knew Kang ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Seongdae well and had come prepared, betting on the title switch.

"Hyungnim, tweaked the lyrics a bit… made 'em cuter."

"Huh?"

Kang Seongdae read through the lyrics and muttered.

"Hard to tell just reading… Hey, Namhun!"

"Yes?"

"Get back in there and sing it straight through! From start to finish!"

"???"

Namhun shot Wonhyeong a look at the sudden order.

Wonhyeong grinned and nodded encouragingly.

Kang Seongdae barked again as Namhun hesitated.

"What're you waiting for? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Elder says sing, so hop in and do it."

"Ah, yes, sir…."

What the hell am I even doing here?

Something felt profoundly off with the world.

It was his first full-song take.

His head was a mess too.

The overall score this time: 81.

Technical stats were way down from before.

Audience reaction saved it, barely pushing past 80.

Everyone stared oddly at Namhun, who'd braced for a weaker response.

What?

Kang Seongdae spoke to the puzzled Namhun.

"This punk. Slap a wig on him, he'd pass for a girl. Voice is all sultry. Drop a highway medley, folks might mistake him for one."

"Could be."

Jin Seryeon agreed.

"Maybe do it as a one-off event later?"

Hearing it out, Namhun thought it'd be fun too.

Thought I was a girl, huh?

Bam! Surprise—I'm a guy.

"Could drum up some buzz."

"Haha. Good idea, right?"

"Sure thing. As expected from a industry vet."

Kang Seongdae roared with laughter at Namhun's flattery.

"Sucking up already? You're gonna go huge, kid. This biz still runs on pats on the back. You're doing trot, so schmooze the seniors like this."

Wonhyeong smirked at the pointed advice.

"Don't worry about that. This guy's a pro at brown-nosing."

"Yeah?"

"Yep. Even the Four Heavenly Kings seniors thought he was cute. Seryeon, you're a bit standoffish. Learn from him."

Kang Seongdae nodded at Wonhyeong's words.

"True, Seryeon's great but too shy. Anyway, we're connected now—let's see more of each other."

"Yes, sunbaenim."

"Good, good. Haha. Revised lyrics are way better! Fine, Namhun, your name goes on the credits as lyricist too."

"Huh?"

Was Kang Seongdae this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠impulsive?

It felt a bit much.

The song looked like a winner to Namhun.

Kang Seongdae seemed to think so too.

But crediting him as co-lyricist?

That meant a real chunk of change.

"Wonhyeong, you've been on it from the start anyway."

"Hey, don't leave me out—buy me beef if it hits."

"If it hits? What do you take me for?"

Namhun cautiously chimed in as they bickered.

"Sunbaenim, I just swapped one word."

It played a key role, sure, but tacking on credit for a last-minute tweak felt off.

"Listen, punk. I'm Kang Seongdae! Seen tiny changes make or break songs for decades. Saljjakhung—the title alone screams hit. This one's gonna explode."

He clapped Namhun's shoulder, locking eyes.

"Hey, Namhun. I don't screw people over. Talent gets its due."

Wonhyeong jumped in, watching.

"Just take it. Play humble, and if it really blows up, you'll regret it. No take-backs."

"If? It's a sure thing! My gut's never wrong—not once! This explodes!"

Wonhyeong flinched at Kang Seongdae's booming yell.

Both thought the song was solid, but his fervor sparked curiosity.

Would it really blow up like he swore?

Time would tell.

But somehow, it felt like he was right.

Kang Seongdae's bold claim about having beef money to burn wasn't bluffing.

He took Namhun, Wonhyeong, and Seryeon to a hanwoo spot that only handled top-tier 1++ Number Nine cuts.

"Whoa… hyungnim, this is too pricey. We drinking kimchi soup here?"

"Kimchi soup my ass. My gut says so. Shut up and eat."

Watching Kang Seongdae strut ahead, Namhun flashed back.

Back in the day, big seniors treated crews to spots like this after music show recordings.

The newbie pranks were rough at first, but young Jang Nam adapted fast.

Everything was novel, and as the baby maknae, his slip-ups got cute passes.

Kang Seongdae, a singer-turned-composer who'd led that culture, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠didn't stint on splurges like this.

Big spender—the owner came out barefoot to greet him.

"Aigoo, Teacher Kang. Been too long."

"Work's been nuts. Brought my prized juniors—hook us up with the best."

"Oh yeah?"

"Memorize their faces. Famous in a few years."

The owner's eyes lit up.

She knew his instincts.

This level of hype meant real star potential.

"Hoho, better snag autographs now~ One sec."

The trio—minus Kang Seongdae—gulped as the server brought the meat.

Marbling that melted at a glance.

How much is this even costing?

Owner's thrilled. Am I really about to blow up?

Things are going smoother than expected.

As their thoughts diverged, the sizzle hit with the grill.

The owner approached with paper.

"Alright, young stars—autographs, please."

"What, no paper for me?"

"Yours is already up, Teacher Kang."

"Heh. Just checking if you snuck it down."

"Aigoo, young or old, same prankster."

As they bantered, Namhun gazed at the paper, nostalgic.

How long since I last signed one?

Last fanmeet at 20—over eight years ago.

His signature was rusty.

Pen in hand for "Namhun," he paused.

Ah. Not Namhun anymore.

He morphed it into a fresh "Jang Nam" signature.

The trot debut name.

A childhood punchline he'd hated, but to his parents' generation, it rang with affection.

Discarded after the accident, now reclaimed—to embrace the past and charge ahead.

If Jang Nam makes it big… Dad and Mom in heaven would be thrilled.

Thus, Jang Nam's first autograph hung in that premium grill house.

"Ahem. Gonna step out for a smoke."

Kang Seongdae rose, and Wonhyeong followed.

This guy's something else.

Wonhyeong had quit, but lit up occasionally for networking.

Namhun had never seen him smoke solo—insane willpower.

One puff and cravings hit hard.

Well, Wonhyeong-hyung's always been a lone wolf.

Mild and playful outside, steel inside.

Namhun had glimpsed true Jo Wonhyeong ages ago at Itaewon's Sun Night—a dancer holy site—when crews clashed big.

He'd tried mediating, then flipped the whole damn place.

Even proud Woo Minsu shut up around him after that.

Anyway, their sudden exit left Namhun awkwardly alone with near-stranger Jin Seryeon.

Jin Seryeon, right? Never properly introduced.

She'd barged in, sparked the session, dragged them to dinner.

Hyper Kang Seongdae drove chat; Wonhyeong chimed in. They'd just eaten.

Seryeon rolled her eyes awkwardly at him.

Namhun broke the ice first.