Still, I Needed to Lower My Expectations
Still, there was a need to keep expectations in check.
“Next is a song I’ve only been practicing recently… Honestly, I’m not sure about it. It’s an older track than my father, so….”
“Aw, what song is it?”
“’Woman in the Rain.’”
The words made everyone nod.
“Oh dear. That might be tough for the youngest. It’s from the sixties.”
“Yeah. That’s one of the songs our dad used to hum.”
“Still, you’ll give it a shot~ Treat it as practice and see how it goes.”
The concern had gone past simple lowering of expectations.
“I’ve laid enough groundwork now. I should receive a fair evaluation.”
Namhun swallowed hard.
“It will be different from before, but right now he needed cold, honest feedback.”
“A woman stands in the rain, her face full of sorrow….”
After the song ended, Namhun noticed the atmosphere felt lukewarm.
“Did it flunk?”
Just as he feared, the stage for ’Woman in the Rain’ scored far below “You and Me.”
【Song Title - Woman in the Rain】
【Comprehension - 75】
【Proficiency - 61】
【Immersion - 81】
【Digestibility - 57】
【Condition - 83】
【Audience Reaction - 70】
【Total Score - 70.7】
Yet Namhun exhaled.
“Seventy points. That’s good enough.”
“Still didn’t completely wreck it like a love ballad.”
Seventy points were painfully low for a pro.
But because he had lowered expectations, even this much felt like a win.
“You worked hard.”
“Here, take a drink.”
His face was expressionless, unlike earlier when he had been fidgeting with his shoulder.
“Probably because it’s such an old song. It felt a bit awkward.”
“The song itself seemed a little empty.”
“Well, it’s just the start. It’ll improve soon.”
“Thank you.”
“Drink up~ You sang well!”
After the post-performance dinner, Namhun tried to pay but failed as expected.
“When you make it, pay back with beef.”
“Right. What would the youngest even have money for? We’ve got this covered.”
Beyond that, team leader Shim Deok-gu handed Namhun an envelope.
“This isn’t much, but think of it as a retirement bonus.”
“Oh, Team Leader… you really don’t have to.”
“Idiot! Adults give things, you accept them.”
After the back-and-forth, when Namhun took the envelope, Shim Deok-gu patted his shoulder and cheered.
“It’ll be tough, but keep at it. I’ll cover meals anytime—call me. If raising the kids gets hard, ask anytime.”
“Yes… thank you, Team Leader.”
“I’ve worked you hard. If things don’t pan out, come back anytime.”
“Haha. Understood. Team Leader… thank you for everything.”
“Let’s not talk too long among guys~ Then get going!”
As he turned coolly, Namhun bowed deeply toward his back.
At first they had seemed rough, but thanks to them he had survived the difficult period.
After everyone left, Namhun headed to hail a taxi when someone called him.
“Youngest.”
He turned to see Joo Sung-cheol standing there.
“…If you have time, how about one more drink?”
The time was already quite late.
Seeing Joo Sung-cheol’s gloomy expression since earlier, Namhun nodded.
“Is there really something wrong, Team Leader?”
Worried all of a sudden, Namhun had no choice but to accept.
“Yes, hyung. Let’s have one more drink and head in.”
The place Joo Sung-cheol led him to was truly unexpected.
A karaoke room.
“Um… hyung, are we going in here?”
“I heard you sing so well I wanted to do one song too.”
“Ah, yes.”
Suddenly worried.
A man who usually doesn’t talk much suddenly wants to sing?
“Is he ill or something?”
Since he didn’t want to talk to coworkers, was he opening up to the outsider leaving?
As loud music echoed inside, Namhun’s heart grew heavier.
A part-time worker assigned to the room for the two men jumped in surprise at the combination.
Not lovers. Not friends.
Too much age gap for colleagues.
Not even father and son.
“Father and son alone in a karaoke room?”
The part-timer’s skin crawled.
Something he could never imagine.
“What kind of combo is this?”
“For the first time in ages I feel like eating something salty. Is this ok?”
“What? Yeah. Sure. It’s good for clearing the palate.”
Soju and stir-fried sausages arrived.
Joo Sung-cheol quietly sipped only the broth.
“This is awkward.”
They had known each other for years yet rarely talked.
It was their first time alone like this.
And with his troubled expression, it felt unbearable.
Namhun couldn’t hold back.
“Hyung… is there something wrong?”
At the question Joo Sung-cheol set down his spoon and stared at Namhun.
“No, nothing’s wrong with me.”
“Ah, yes…”
“This is awkward.”
Even someone as sociable as Namhun had no answer for the taciturn Joo Sung-cheol.
At that moment Joo Sung-cheol asked.
“Youngest.”
“Yes?”
“Do you really want to become a trot singer?”
“Yes. I’m currently preparing songs.”
“Really? Do you have a planning company?”
“No agency… When I was active as a singer, my former team member who was a composer is now doing that.”
“Could you give me the name?”
“Yes… Jo Won-hyeong.”
Joo Sung-cheol frowned at the name.
“Jo Won-hyeong? Never heard of him.”
“…”
“Youngest, it sounds like a scam.”
Namhun’s ears perked at the sudden words.
“Cough, cough! Yes? Scam?”
“Everyone else doesn’t know… but I’ve been singing for over thirty years. Through itinerant troupes, night stages—anything. Yet I’ve never heard of a composer named Jo Won-hyeong from birth to now.”
At Joo Sung-cheol’s confession Namhun was simply dumbfounded.
“Hyung, you were a singer?”
And this man who could talk so much?
“Hyung… you were a singer? That’s true?”
“Yes. No lie. If you know the Four Heavenly Kings of Trot Medley, you know Joo Sung.”
“Eh!”
At the name Joo Sung, Namhun was genuinely shocked.
There were two types of Four Heavenly Kings in trot.
Jeong Nam, Ha Daeun, Jin Taesu, Gwak Daeho—the traditional trot kings.
And the medley kings of the tourist-bus group.
One of them was clearly Joo Sung.
“Now that I think of it, his voice sounds a bit like Sunbae Joo’s too.”
When Namhun hesitated, Joo Sung-cheol stood up and grabbed the microphone.
Without even opening the songbook he pressed the number.
“Home Station Bar.”
The accompaniment for “Home Station Bar” began to play.
“I miss you~ My hometown….”
As the first line, filled with intricate flourishes, flowed out, Namhun shot to his feet.
“It really is Joo Sung.”
“* * *”
“Home Station Bar” was over five minutes long.
Yet to Namhun it felt like under a minute.
Because of how completely Joo Sung’s flashy techniques had drawn him in.
【Singer - Joo Sung】
【Song Title - Home Station Bar】
【Comprehension - 100】
【Proficiency - 95】
【Immersion - 99】
【Digestibility - 98】
【Condition - 83】
【Audience Reaction - 100】
【Total Score - 97.5】
Joo Sung-cheol had drunk four bottles of soju in the barbecue restaurant.
He had worried Namhun might be scammed.
Even though his condition was poor, he poured everything into the performance and the scores reflected it.
“96.9 points…”
This really was a pro.
Namhun stared at the scores and thought so.
Then his confidence suddenly vanished.
They shared the name of a Four Heavenly King, but the recognition between traditional trot kings and medley kings was like heaven and earth.
True trot fans knew both, but medley kings had almost no TV appearances and were unknown to the general public.
Unlike the trot kings they had no massive hit songs.
“Yet with this level of skill.”
Even drunk he scored this high.
On stage Namhun could not guarantee victory against his own favorite song “Forever Yours.”
If the audience was older he would lose without question.
“Trot… it’s not easy.”
Watching Woo Yeon-jeong and Han Tae-jin’s stages had felt completely different.
The two he once thought insurmountable now seemed like children beside Joo Sung.
Namhun stood before a towering wall, his head spinning.
After finishing the song Joo Sung-cheol sat back down and asked Namhun.
“Now you believe me?”
“Yes? Yes… hyung, you really are Sunbae Joo.”
Most medley albums were produced by small labels and had poor recording quality.
They lightened the voice for a lively atmosphere.
But hearing Joo Sung live up close had been purely ecstatic.
He had been overwhelmed by the rich flavor of trot that was his weakness.
Swing, syncopation, pull rhythms—all used perfectly.
“Hyung… with this skill, why are you working as a construction worker?”
There had to be reasons, but he couldn’t ask otherwise.
Joo Sung-cheol smiled bitterly.
Shim Deok-gu’s team was direct, so pay was good and stable.
But compared to a successful singer’s gig fee it was tiny.
“The industry is unstable. Recession right now. Night-stage work isn’t what it was. Old-timers like me have a base rate so they don’t hire us anymore.”
Instead of hiring me they’d rather roll cheap night singers or spend more to book a known act.
“Bringing in other people’s money isn’t easy. I have no agency, so booking gigs is hard too… but my body is tired and my heart is at ease with steady income.”
“…I see.”
“I have a daughter who’ll enter university next year. Tuition and wedding money— I can’t keep singing alone.”
“…”
“Who would produce me at this age without a hit song? I have to make an album with my own money… I’m past chasing dreams. I have a family.”
Namhun understood Joo Sung’s words deeply.
If it were just him he could afford failure.
But with family he couldn’t take risks.
“Anyway, the Jo Won-hyeong I’ve never heard of is definitely a scammer. Here we make albums with our own money and work hard.”
Joo Sung-cheol spoke with genuine worry, but Namhun felt awkward.
Because Jo Won-hyeong was not a scammer.
“Hyung, even if Jo Won-hyeong is unknown here… he’s respected in other genres.”
“Other genres?”
Joo Sung-cheol snorted.
“Those kinds of people are everywhere these days. With the music industry hard, they want to suck money out of young people even if it’s just a little.”
At the firm misunderstanding Namhun was at a loss.
“What to do… ah!”
The name that came to mind.