Prank Preparation
The mindsets of college students facing midterms varied wildly. Some snapped awake with the realization, I partied enough during freshman year! Others carried the heavy thought, Sigh... What's the point when I'll be heading to the military soon anyway? Lee Suhyun fell somewhere in the middle. He was an ordinary citizen aiming for a solid B+—a humble B+ warrior.
“J-Juyeon.”
After finishing his last midterm exam, Lee Suhyun caught Park Juyeon as she started to rise from the seat beside him.
“Yeah?”
“That one… number three. What did you put?”
“What was number three again? I don’t really remember.”
“You know. That early warning corrective action system thing.”
“It’s in the PPT, isn’t it?”
“…Who doesn’t know that? That’s why I’m asking.”
For a split second, Lee Suhyun startled himself with his own words. The tone sounded far too similar to someone else’s. Or maybe he had simply echoed exactly what she had said earlier. Park Juyeon noticed immediately and let out a small laugh.
“Suhyun. Why are you copying me?”
“…I wasn’t copying.”
It had slipped out without him realizing. He might not have been aware of it himself, but Lee Suhyun was the type who absorbed the habits of those around him. In that sense, picking up the speech patterns of the other band members from time to time wasn’t strange at all.
“If I’m answering properly, the early warning corrective action system means taking appropriate management improvement measures for financial institutions at risk of insolvency…”
Elite loner Park Juyeon. The PPT content flowed smoothly from her lips. When he shared the answer he had written—which seemed roughly similar—she crushed his hopes by pointing out that the core section was wrong and he shouldn’t expect many partial points.
The place the two reached, walking side by side, was the club room. The frantic midterms that had them sprinting for breath were over. Now an even more chaotic pile of overdue band practices waited for them.
Loud voices echoed from the doorway. It sounded like Yoon Hana and Choi Kang were arguing again.
“Honestly, I probably did better than you, right?”
“Yoon Hana! How naive!”
“Hey! Don’t put me in the same category as you. I actually studied really hard this time, okay?”
“So what score are you expecting?”
Excluding Lee Suhyun, the grade rankings among Spirit’s 23rd generation were mostly set in stone. First place: the unshakable top student, Park Juyeon. Second: Lee Seoeun, the model student who consistently maintained a 4.0. Third place and below became ambiguous because both Choi Kang and Yoon Hana loved goofing off far too much.
Yoon Hana had never tried to become a social butterfly. Her naturally striking looks alone drew friends to her like magnets, and countless gatherings begged for her presence. And that wasn’t all—she had far too many interests. Her beloved band and guitar, of course, but also makeup, good restaurants, Instagram, sports, and more. Yoon Hana was someone who could never be bored even in twenty-four hours without a single plan.
Choi Kang, on the other hand, was a drummer with a firmly established personal world of distractions built on strict routines. His daily schedule was packed in ten-minute blocks: workouts, watching internet broadcasts, clearing game stages. Studying sat at the absolute bottom of his priorities. He only cracked open the books with whatever time remained after enjoying all his entertainment.
“Me? I’ll easily pull off a 3.5 this time!”
Once she noticed Park Juyeon and Lee Suhyun had entered, Yoon Hana began to look slightly embarrassed. It was like strutting in front of the food chain’s apex predator.
“You say that, but you got a 2.8 last year!”
When Choi Kang mercilessly exposed her weakness, Yoon Hana felt her face burning. Her grades had already been revealed during last year’s winter bet, so it didn’t matter—but the important part was that Lee Suhyun hadn’t been there.
“L-Lee Suhyuuun!”
The embarrassed Yoon Hana called out to Lee Suhyun, who had been quietly listening.
“Huh? Me?”
“What was your GPA last semester?”
“I… barely scraped together a 3.something…”
At his answer, Yoon Hana couldn’t hide the delight rising inside her. A reliable bottom-tier civilian comrade had appeared—someone who didn’t possess the heavenly grades of Park Juyeon or Lee Seoeun.
“Then you come over here and join the bet too!”
“What bet?”
“The grade ranking showdown!”
Though he had felt hopeless at first, hearing Yoon Hana’s previous semester score made Lee Suhyun think he might actually have a chance.
“If I win… what do I get?”
“How about bingsu!”
Bingsu! It was definitely one of those rather luxurious desserts people rarely bought for themselves.
At the word bingsu, Park Juyeon’s eyes grew perfectly round. She slowly shuffled closer to Yoon Hana’s side.
“Park Juyeon.”
Yoon Hana stared at her with narrowed eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Do you really want to rip us off that badly?”
Park Juyeon joining in was no different from a professional basketball player showing up to dominate a neighborhood court.
“B-but… I like bingsu too…”
“Alright, alright.”
Lee Seoeun, who had been silently organizing their schedule, rose from her chair.
“You three can handle your bet. Juyeon can come eat bingsu with this big sister! I’ll go over the announcements first!”
The busiest period for the university band club Spirit during the first semester fell between midterms and the festival. A band performance wasn’t something that ended with simple practice. They had two shows total. The first was a short set performed on the main athletic field for the entire student body. The second was Spirit’s official regular concert, which involved borrowing the school’s small auditorium.
Sound equipment rental, stage costumes, recruiting audience members, calling alumni—tasks piled up like a mountain.
Lee Seoeun checked her list and diligently recited each item.
“First, we’re planning to do that the day after tomorrow.”
That? What was that?
When Lee Suhyun glanced around, the members each wore different expressions. Choi Kang flashed a devilish grin. Yoon Hana’s lips curled upward. Even Park Juyeon covered her mouth and smirked.
Since he was the only one left out, Lee Seoeun kindly explained.
“Our Spirit has a long-standing tradition.”
Lee Seoeun smiled brightly, her dimples blooming to express her delight.
“Ah, but it feels a little unfair for Suhyun to only dish it out without ever receiving it.”
“He’s a second-year now. We can’t force him into the first-year group at this point.”
Lee Suhyun’s question was immediately answered by Lee Seoeun’s next words.
“We’re doing a hidden camera prank on the first-years!”
“…What kind of prank?”
“Well… basically, right before the performance, we heighten the tension a bit! And get closer to them! We’ll call each one out separately as a surprise and pretend to scold them!”
“Then all of you during your first year…”
That meant every member standing in front of him had gone through it too.
“Hana cried buckets, Juyeon cried too, and well, Kang took a full sweat shower.”
“Hey. I didn’t cry buckets, okay?”
“What are you talking about~ The second the seniors said ‘This is a prank~’ you wailed at the top of your lungs.”
Lee Suhyun could understand Park Juyeon getting scared, but if the others had reacted the same way, he couldn’t even imagine how intense it must have been.
“I. Will. Definitely. Make. Them. Cry.”
Yoon Hana clenched her fist as if she had waited for this day her entire life.
“Na Hyejeong. You’re dead!”
Her face looked like a vengeful ghost consumed by resentment as she uttered her junior’s name.
“The key is usually scolding the direct junior from the same session!”
“So Suhyun, if there’s anything you’ve wanted to point out to Taeho, just hammer him on it. Exaggerate it!”
Even if it was a joke, scold Park Taeho…? Park Taeho’s face rose in Lee Suhyun’s mind.
“Wanna play games together, Suhyun-hyung?”
“Suhyun-hyung! Thanks for your hard work today too!”
The junior who was endlessly eager to please, craving his seniors’ affection. Park Taeho. No matter how Lee Suhyun looked at it, Taeho seemed like a better person than he was.
“Um… well…”
He had roughly understood the format, yet he still couldn’t picture himself seriously scolding someone else.
“Don’t worry, Lee Suhyun.”
Yoon Hana sensed an opportunity. A perfect, natural chance to call him out alone.
“I’ll simulate exactly what I did last year and show you.”
“Since Hana’s the drill sergeant, she’ll carry the whole thing this year! Suhyun, learn from her properly.”
Quick-witted Lee Seoeun gave Yoon Hana an invisible push from behind.
“Got it…”
Today’s meeting ended after the schedule briefing. Practices and activities were booked almost every single day starting tomorrow, so Lee Seoeun readily dismissed the members.
Yoon Hana told him to follow her and led Lee Suhyun to a quiet emergency staircase where almost no one passed by.
“Stand here.”
Following her instruction, he stood on the landing between the fourth and fifth floors.
“Respectfully.”
Yoon Hana sat on the stairs and looked down at him with cold eyes.
“Exactly like this. We’ll call the juniors out one by one and have them stand here. Our members will stay seated in this spot the whole time.”
The pressure was enormous. Even imagining one senior sitting above would be nerve-wracking. Picturing the entire group sitting there made Lee Suhyun feel as if he had been summoned to the scene of a school bullying incident.
“For the lines… if the 22nd generation president had scolded you from this spot…”
One demonstration was more effective than a hundred explanations. Yoon Hana began to perform with all her heart as if possessed by the previous president.
With a fierce expression, she hurled believable disses at Lee Suhyun. She caught every flaw others might notice about him and exaggerated them to the maximum.
But since it was only acting, Yoon Hana naturally assumed it wouldn’t hurt him.
“So. Suhyun.”
“Get your act together! Got it?”
“Think about how much you’re dragging down your entire year’s average and live accordingly.”
“Feel some guilt toward the others, too.”
“If you’re going to keep acting like that, just quit! Idiot!”
After roughly a minute of passionate acting, Yoon Hana caught her breath. She felt this was enough to convey the tone.
Lee Suhyun kept his head bowed and said nothing. Even though it was acting, the harsh words might have soured his mood…
“…Hmm?”
Silver droplets fell one by one. The source was Lee Suhyun’s face. She hadn’t expected sweat to flow so dramatically…
“L-Lee Suhyun…?”
Flustered, Yoon Hana stood and stepped in front of him.
“Hey… hey. You. Why are you crying? This is just acting. You knew that, didn’t you?”
He was crying so miserably that she didn’t even know what words of comfort to offer.
“No. Hey. What’s wrong… this is all…”
“I… I know it’s acting… but when you said it like that… it felt too… huuup…”
It was frightening. Even though it was acting, he wondered whether Yoon Hana truly looked at him with those eyes. Whether that was the truth and the warmth the other members showed was all a façade.
Those tears were proof of how deeply he had come to cherish them in such a short time.
Yoon Hana awkwardly raised both arms. Slowly, they wrapped around Lee Suhyun’s waist.
“It’s not true, Lee Suhyun.”
On her tiptoes, Yoon Hana whispered into his ear as if to reassure him.
“Tha… No.”
It was dangerous. She had almost said it out loud.
“How much we all like you.”
Lee Suhyun’s hands naturally drew Yoon Hana’s back closer.