Telehyuk21
Yoon Hana tilted her head, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“Why Sohye?”
“Huh?”
“Ji Sohye. She asked you to work out with her or something?”
“Ah. Yeah. She said something about the newbies sticking together and doing well.”
The smile on Hana’s lips looked far from pleased. It was the kind of smile that suggested she wasn’t exactly thrilled. But the discomfort only flickered across her face for the briefest moment—just long enough to blink.
“Aww~ Sohye, that won’t do! Trying to drag a senior into working out? Looks like I’ll have to set her straight.”
Hana shot up from her seat and casually pulled her guitar from the stand with practiced ease.
“If these kids mess up today’s rehearsal, I’m cutting their heads clean off.”
The moment she issued her declaration of war, the first-years came pouring in all at once.
“Ah! Hi, unnie!”
“Hello.”
“Oh? Suhyun hyung, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
A while? I literally came last week. Suhyun felt a little awkward but didn’t let it show. That was what a ‘cool’ senior was supposed to do, after all. He still couldn’t forget the “cool senior” theory he’d read about on the internet.
“You guys are starting on the third song now, right?”
Hana stood with her arms crossed, positioning herself right beside Jiyeon, the 24th generation’s female vocalist.
“Yes.”
“That means you’ve pretty much finished the first and second ones, huh?”
The smiles gradually faded from the 24th generation members’ faces. Cold sweat trickled down Taeho’s forehead in particular—he’d already been crushed by Hana once before. And instead of any other session, two senior guitarists had shown up. It was like sitting on a bed of thorns. Even though President Seoeun always cheered them on and told them they were doing great… To the juniors, Hana was the most beautiful predator of them all. She radiated the aura of a lion.
“Shall we listen, then?”
Suhyun and Hana sat side by side on the sofa. Once again, Suhyun held his breath like he was the one about to get scolded and watched the first-years perform. They had definitely improved a lot since last time. No one was stumbling because they forgot the sheet music, and no one was making such huge mistakes that it ruined the whole rehearsal.
But.
“Stop.”
Hana, who had been listening with her eyes closed, suddenly halted the first-years.
“Hyejeong.”
Na Hyejeong, the other guitarist of the 24th generation, flinched.
“Yes, unnie.”
“I think you need to work on your muting a bit more.”
Hana rose from the sofa and walked right up to the amp.
“Play that rhythm part from earlier again. Properly this time.”
The public execution hour had returned. Hana instructed Hyejeong to replay a specific section. Hyejeong gripped her pick, her mouth going completely dry. With a trembling heart, she began playing the rhythm from before.
-takatakatakataka dun- dun-
The song the first-years had chosen was one that came alive with bouncy, funky chords. In cruder terms, it required sharp, precise “jap-jap” technique in that section, but Hyejeong’s hands seemed far too stiff to pull it off properly.
“That’s enough.”
Hana, who had stepped up beside her, reached out as if asking for the guitar. The white Stratocaster—a classic beginner’s guitar—was placed in her hands.
“Watch.”
Hana fretted the same chord and immediately launched into a demonstration.
-takatakatakataka
It was exactly the same muting, yet the feel was completely different. Her right hand moved with the relaxed confidence that came from someone who had drilled rhythm exercises for years, while her left hand maintained an ironclad defense that prevented any unwanted noise.
“You only put in power when you need it.”
“Yes.”
“The reason you’re more tense than necessary is probably because you haven’t practiced enough. High chance of that.”
Hana wasn’t the type blessed with natural talent. Everything she had now came from relentless effort and endless repetition. Every difficulty Hyejeong was facing right now was something Hana had gone through herself.
“Even if it’s an easy song, I want you to aim for playing it cleanly from start to finish every single time.”
“And this isn’t just for Hyejeong. All of you, remember that.”
With her hands on her hips, Hana looked every bit the perfect senior. At least, that’s how she appeared in Suhyun’s eyes.
“Treasure every single note.”
“When you’re covering a song, look up how the original artists played it.”
She knew they probably wouldn’t actually do it. Even so, she fulfilled her duty as their senior. Because she believed that was the only way she could hold her head high about the music she loved.
Oddly enough, the one listening with his ears perked up was Suhyun.
“Hey. Lee Suhyun.”
Hana turned around and suddenly spoke to him.
“Don’t you have any feedback?”
“…Yoon Hana, you’re cool?”
He wasn’t sure what to point out, but he could definitely tell that Hana was cool.
“What are you even saying?”
Hana tossed the words out with clear disdain. Suhyun himself didn’t notice, but all the juniors witnessed it—the way the corner of her mouth twitched upward in a slightly smug little smirk.
“Be honest. I’m not losing at billiards today. No way.”
“Ugh… Win first and then talk big~ You’re not gonna make it, you know?”
“Let’s bet! Let’s make a bet, you bastard!”
As soon as rehearsal ended, the male first-years seemed to rush off together to play billiards.
“Oh? Suhyun hyung, wanna come with us? We can do two-on-two easy!”
“Nah. You guys go ahead and have fun.”
He coolly pretended to be busy, but… honestly, he had no idea how to play. A loner like him only knew computer games. He had never once picked up a cue stick in his life, whether it was billiards or pocket billiards.
The rest of the girls scattered to take care of their own business.
“Lee Suhyun. You don’t play billiards?”
The remaining Hana asked him.
“Nope.”
“Do you at least know how?”
“…No.”
He hesitated for a second before answering, but lying would have been pointless anyway—if they went to the billiard hall together, it would all come out.
“Then what do you like doing?”
“Playing guitar?”
“Besides that.”
When asked for other options, nothing really came to mind. He had things he did when he had free time, but things he actually liked…
“I don’t really… have anything.”
Little did he know how much his answer tickled Hana’s heart even more. A guy who had zero interest in anything else and loved playing guitar the most. Hana was starting to feel a strange sense of danger—like she might even start liking that shaggy 80s rock star haircut of his.
“Want to get food?”
“Huh?”
“If you haven’t eaten yet, let’s grab something together.”
“Sounds good.”
If it had been with the other juniors, Suhyun would have felt awkward, but being alone with Hana was more than welcome. Even though she was prickly, he could tell she was a good person.
“How about spicy stir-fried chicken stew? I’m craving something a little spicy.”
“Let’s go there, then.”
He was relieved she didn’t ask what he wanted. Suhyun let out a small sigh of relief inside and picked up his bag.
The two of them crossed the overpass side by side. Their conversation revolved around the friendship meetup happening tomorrow.
“Hmm… We’ve gone to the aquarium together, and to a board game café, stuff like that.”
“Whoa… You guys went out a ton, huh?”
“But those are the more memorable special cases. A lot of the time we just drank nonstop.”
The Friday friendship gatherings had been created to prevent Park Juyeon from being left out. Last year, Hana’s attendance had been low because of her part-time job. Still, she hadn’t disliked them. She thought of the band members as family—people who struggled together and performed together.
-Ding-ding-ding-
“Auntie! Table for two!”
“Oh my! The student’s here again?”
Suhyun, standing behind Hana, fell into deep thought. Was this what it meant to be a social butterfly? Both Seoeun and now this—how did every shop owner recognize her and remember her face? He was simply amazed that the owner would speak to her first without being called. Meanwhile, he would have frozen up in terror.
“Two orders of spicy stir-fried chicken stew, please!”
Hana, who was apparently a regular, placed the order with familiar ease. After waiting a little longer, a copper-colored pot that clearly had some years on it was placed in front of them.
“The fried rice here is seriously amazing.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I should take a picture.”
Hana, who had been about to post the photo on Instagram, suddenly lifted her head and glanced at Suhyun’s face.
“Hey. What’s your Instagram ID? I want to tag you.”
“…I don’t have one.”
“You don’t?”
“Well… even if I made one, I don’t have any friends to follow…”
“Then I’ll follow you. Make one.”
Her eyes seemed to say, Why would you worry about something like that? In the end, Suhyun couldn’t resist Hana’s insistence and created an account.
“What should I use for the username, though…? What’s usually good?”
Should he just use his real name?
“People usually go with a common nickname if they have one, or something derived from their name.”
“I don’t have a nickname.”
Hana let out a short, slightly frustrated sigh.
“No Instagram, no nickname… Seriously. Just give me your phone. I’ll make one for you.”
When Suhyun obediently handed over his phone, Hana suddenly found herself deep in thought. Since it was Suhyun… Waterhyuk? Nah, that’s lame. Hmm… Isn’t there something better?
-Ding!
A light bulb went off above Hana’s head.
“Lee Suhyun. You love your guitar, right?”
“Of course?”
This was the honest truth, so there was no hesitation.
“Then let’s go with Telehyuk21.”
“Tele…hyuk? Huh? You took it from Telecaster?”
“Yeah. Is it bad?”
He actually had no strong feelings about it, but he didn’t want to ruin the hopeful look on Hana’s face.
“No. It’s good.”
“Okay. Then I’ll follow you? Accept it?”
The first follower on Suhyun’s account. SGone21. A smile full of unmistakable satisfaction spread across Hana’s lips as she tagged his new username.