Ideal Type Talk is Tough!
“Still a long way to go.” His tone could easily sound condescending, depending on who was listening. Maintaining the right distance meant never giving an unconditional “yes.” As much as he wanted to say things like “You guys are really good!” or “Honestly, I’m new at this too, so we’re not that different,” that wasn’t an option. It wouldn’t fit the image of a cool, detached senior.
“What exactly do you mean by ‘a long way to go’?” asked the 24th-generation male vocalist, Geonwoo, who had been watching Suhyun closely.
“That’s… something you’ll have to figure out for yourselves from now on.” That was the only cool-sounding line he’d managed to prepare. He hadn’t thought through what came after, and the sudden follow-up left him quietly flustered, though he hoped his quick thinking hadn’t shown.
The juniors’ reactions to their shaggy-haired senior—who looked every bit the rocker—varied.
What’s with that senior?
Ah, he must be disappointed in my guitar skills, just like Hana noona!
Yeah… we’re still beginners. We’ve got a long way to go.
Hana let out a sigh and swept her bangs upward. It seemed Suhyun could use some feedback on how to give feedback.
* * *
“Suhyun hyung! You’re eating with us, right?”
Park Taeho, the 24th-generation guitarist who had just been scolded by Hana, was still feeling small after their recent rehearsal. Even so, he didn’t want to skip practice and come across as socially awkward. Being the friendly junior who earned his seniors’ approval was supposed to be the first step in the band club—the so-called flower of performance clubs. And the strategy was simple: If your skills are lacking, make up for it with sociability!
It was a tactic that usually worked, except the target was Lee Suhyun.
Would a cool senior… really eat together?
When Suhyun only folded his arms and hesitated, Taeho felt his stomach twist.
Was I really that bad that he doesn’t even want to eat with me…?
Two overthinkers, completely missing each other. The one who finally cut through the awkwardness wasn’t a guitarist but the drummer.
“Spirit, assemble! Dinner is bulgogi rice bowls!”
The man announced the menu like a school lunch schedule, his smooth head gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Hana, who had been fiddling with her phone on the sofa, stretched with a long yawn.
“That place again?”
Choi Kang’s regular bulgogi rice bowl spot was a fifteen-minute walk from the main gate. It was a bit far, but since it was basically on Hana’s way home, she had no reason to refuse—especially since the food was decent.
With the 24th-generation bassist Jiho away at his part-time job, the rest of them headed out together. The seating arrangement looked like a blind date: the 23rd generation on one side, the 24th generation on the other. Sandwiched between Hana and Kang, Suhyun could already feel his social battery draining.
I… want to go home.
Being around so many new people for so long had left him exhausted. Every time he tried to recall his “cool senior” script, his thoughts short-circuited, and he ended up moving like a broken robot.
“Hyung, what was the most fun part of last year’s festival for you?”
The juniors’ questions poured over him like a waterfall. From their perspective, it was only natural—they wanted to get closer to their seniors.
“The festival, huh… Well, obviously—”
I went home early by myself, so I wouldn’t know.
“—the food!”
He’d never actually bought anything, but he remembered seeing chicken skewers and tteok-kkochi stands on his way around campus. He wished he could tell them which stalls were the best or which department had the cutest girls, but he had no answers to give.
“What did you eat?”
“Tteok-kkochi.”
“Oh, the one in front of the engineering building?”
Hana’s interested tone made Suhyun nod.
“Yeah… I think so?”
He hadn’t actually bought any, so his memory was hazy, but he played it off.
“I used to sell those!” Hana beamed up at him. “Aha~ I guess I helped boost our department’s sales~”
She looked rather proud of herself.
“Whoa, so hyung, you went all the way there just to see Noona from the start?”
The twenty-year-olds, who lived for romance gossip, swarmed Suhyun like piranhas.
“Huh? No, I don’t think I even saw Hana back then.”
His “cool senior” guard had completely dropped; he answered with genuine confusion.
“Unni! So did you get numbers while working there too?”
“Well, yeah. There were quite a few people who came around with that kind of intention.”
“Whoa, so did you end up dating any of them?”
Suhyun let out a quiet sigh of relief as the spotlight shifted to Hana, though he still perked up his ears. He wasn’t one hundred percent close with his own year yet, so their stories genuinely interested him.
“Nah, I turned them all down. I was too busy working, and we still had our own performance to prepare.”
It was the complete opposite of Suhyun, who used to bolt home the second class ended.
“Besides, none of them could play guitar better than me anyway.”
The juniors blinked at the sudden, random statement.
“You won’t give your number if they can’t play guitar?” asked Geonwoo from across the table.
“I’ve got a very clear type.” Hana’s voice was full of conviction. “I’m not interested in guys who can’t play guitar as well as I can.”
Suhyun silently agreed a hundred times over—someone who played guitar well was undeniably cool, regardless of whether it applied to himself.
“Then doesn’t that mean you have to date a guitarist, Unni?”
Hana waved her hand dismissively at the teasing. “Nah~ That’s not how it works. Sohye, what about you? What’s your type?”
Since the topic had come up, she passed the baton. Ideal-type conversations were a classic among young people, but for Ji Sohye, this moment was anything but casual. The man she liked was sitting right across from her. Choi Kang, who looked completely uninterested in girls’ ideal-type talk, was steadily working through his bulgogi rice bowl. Every time he lifted his spoon, the veins on his arm made her heart flutter.
How can someone be that cool…?
She had to drop hints without making it too obvious.
“I like… manly guys? That kind of vibe? I guess that’s my type…”
She said it shyly, but Kang just kept eating, showing zero interest as he picked up some kimchi.
“By ‘manly,’ do you mean personality, or… physique?” Hana pressed for more details.
“Both!”
Realizing she was getting too specific, Sohye quickly changed the subject. “Suhyun oppa, what’s your type?”
The tragic game of hot potato had landed on him again. He sighed. A safe, inoffensive answer was best—nothing about looks or body type that could spark controversy. Personality was the kindest choice.
“I think… someone who works hard at what they like is really cool.”
It was less about his ideal romantic partner and more about the kind of person he admired.
“Ooh… Yeah, I get that.”
Everyone seemed to agree. Thankfully, they didn’t push for a deeper interview and moved on naturally. The Spirit members chatted nonstop until their bowls were empty.
“Let’s go!”
At Kang’s sudden shout, everyone stood and filed out. As they said their goodbyes, Hana grabbed Suhyun’s wrist.
“Lee Suhyun.”
“Yeah?”
“Got a minute?”
“Uh, sure.”
The night sky had darkened. As they stepped into the alley near Hana’s house, warm reddish lights illuminated the two of them.
“What do you think of the kids?”
Hana stopped walking and looked up at him.
“They’re all nice. And they seem to practice hard.”
His expression didn’t look bad at all—almost fond. Hana smiled, satisfied that her guess had been right.
“Then just be honest with them. You don’t have to try so hard to match my tone.”
A faint smile played on her lips as she leaned against a telephone pole.
“I give harsh feedback because I want them to build good habits and solid basics early on. But that’s just my personal wish—you don’t have to worry about it.”
Under the streetlight, her face filled his vision beyond his bangs.
“No, I think everything you say is really helpful.”
It was true. It was the kind of feedback he wanted to give but couldn’t, and it was genuinely useful for the juniors too.
“I’ll practice harder so I can give them proper feedback someday.”
She had told him he didn’t need to match her, yet here he was promising to try even harder. It was such a Suhyun-like answer that she couldn’t bring herself to dislike it.
“Do what you want.”
She turned on her heel. Suhyun smiled and waved gently.
“Get home safe.”