Do You Like Hana?
When Juyeon first met Hana, it was the spring of last year. It was after the selection of all the 23rd generation members had finished.
Her bleached hair was so bright that light seemed to pass straight through it, instantly capturing attention. Next came her delicate, densely packed facial features that stole the gaze entirely. The reason Juyeon still remembered it so vividly was because Hana had left such an intense impression on her.
A sparkling star. Hana truly looked like a character who had jumped out of a comic book. While her appearance gave that impression, the things she said were so grounded in reality that it only added to her charm. She seemed like the type who would have tons of friends. And in reality, she did.
It didn't even occur to Juyeon to feel envious. Their basic specs were simply too different. Instead, she found herself strangely fascinated by how someone like Hana could treat even a person like her with such consistent kindness.
Throughout the year they spent working together, Juyeon had heard countless stories of boys who confessed to Hana only to be turned down. Hana didn't go around openly broadcasting her dating history, but whenever Seoeun asked, she would answer in a casual tone like, "This month... maybe two?" As if she were simply recalling what she had eaten for dinner a few days earlier.
Juyeon didn't feel anything in particular. It was only natural. If she herself had been born a boy, she thought there was no way she wouldn't have fallen for Hana at first sight. She had always believed there would be no disagreement on that point...
Her fingertips fidgeted across her phone screen. The name floating there was Lee Suhyun.
Since exams were over, Juyeon had wanted to talk about the stream again, but she kept hesitating. If Suhyun really did like Hana... then wasn't it wrong for her to keep inviting him over like this? Even without any dating experience, it was obvious that constantly bringing home a boy who had feelings for another girl wasn't exactly appropriate.
The scene from earlier that day replayed in her mind. Hana and Suhyun standing back to back with their guitars slung over their shoulders. They wouldn't have been able to see each other's faces, but Juyeon, watching from a distance as a third party, had seen it clearly. The way both their cheeks had flushed bright red.
"Hmm..."
It was difficult. No clear answer came to her. She also thought it was too hasty to assume someone held romantic feelings for another person based on that alone. So she decided to ask directly.
It happened in a single instant. Like water flowing naturally, Juyeon sent a ripple through Suhyun's heart.
"Do you like Hana?"
Suhyun, guitar still slung over his shoulder as he walked home, blinked slowly.
"Uh... well... I like her?"
Like her. Don't like her. If there were only two choices, the answer was obviously the first. How could he dislike Hana after she had stayed behind to help him practice this late?
"Mm, mm. Not that kind of like. I mean romantically."
His footsteps, which had been moving steadily, came to a halt. What on earth did she mean by that? Suhyun found it hard to read Juyeon's intentions. Why was she suddenly asking this? The question felt like something out of a truth-or-dare game on the last night of a school trip, and it was enough to throw him into confusion.
"T-that's not possible, is it?"
But at this particular moment, the answer was already decided. Who could suddenly blurt out, "Yeah! I like Hana!" here? Besides, Suhyun wasn't even consciously thinking of Hana in that way. Or rather, he was actively refusing to let himself see her that way.
Just as Juyeon saw Hana as a star, to Suhyun she was the same. It was only natural for him to think that even if he developed feelings, she was someone far beyond his reach.
"...I see."
With his mouth suddenly dry, Suhyun waited for Juyeon's next words.
"Got it. Well then, get home safely and rest up."
"Huh...? Yeah."
"See you tomorrow."
The call ended. Suhyun stood frozen in place, unable to tear his eyes from the phone screen. It felt like a tidal wave had just swept through. What had that phone call even been about? He had questions, but calling back to ask felt too embarrassing.
On the other hand, after hanging up, Juyeon...
"Ah. I was going to talk about the stream..."
"I should have said something..."
Her cheeks were slightly flushed. A sweet note of regret slipped from her lips.
What had happened? Seoeun's gaze turned toward Juyeon. For some reason today, Juyeon was smiling more than usual, her expression soft and bright. Even when Seoeun had asked if something good had happened, Juyeon had only answered that she was in a good mood.
...There was definitely something going on. Seoeun's sharp intuition had an almost ninety-eight percent accuracy rate.
"Everyone! Come over here!"
That was one thing, but the club president still had to busily push the schedule forward. Seoeun gathered the members who had come for practice over to the desks.
"I've put together a full list for calling our seniors. We'll be inviting them to the regular performance."
One of Spirit's long-standing traditions. It involved calling the alumni to invite them to the regular performance. This system hadn't been created purely out of blind respect and admiration for their predecessors. Most of Spirit's equipment had been provided by the OB seniors.
The luxurious set that the current students enjoyed was far beyond what could be afforded even after years of saving the school's support funds. And it was the alumni who had made it possible. The OBs, who still felt lingering regrets from their own school days, would readily donate large sums for the new members' equipment. After every successful regular performance, they would also cover the cost of the after-party dinner.
That was why all the past presidents of Spirit, or any member who understood how the club operated, recognized that this level of service was simply their rightful duty.
"Just follow the same template as last year. Once you're done, send the results to the group chat with their names and generation marked. That's it!"
It wasn't difficult to explain to the first-years. All the second-years, the main generation, were veterans. With one exception. Everyone except Suhyun.
The moment Suhyun received the list, his face darkened. 'Seniors.' Even dealing with the third- and fourth-years still attending school was hard enough... The generations he had been assigned were the 9th and 10th. In terms of age difference, they were practically a full zodiac cycle away. Distant, almost unreachable seniors.
"Alright! You have one hour! Then we'll meet back here~"
"Unnie~ I'm going to buy coffee and work while I drink it. Want to come with me?"
"Sure! Anyone else?"
"Me too!"
Seoeun and Hana left the practice room arm in arm, with Choi Kang following behind them. That left only Suhyun and Juyeon. The awkwardness from yesterday's phone call still lingered a little, but Suhyun quietly moved over and sat beside her.
"...Juyeon."
She had been staring intently at the list of senior phone numbers. When she lifted her head, she smiled brightly, as if she knew exactly what he was worried about.
"Don't worry, Suhyun."
"Huh?"
"Here. I'll send it to you."
She fiddled with her phone for a moment, then sent him something. It was a single photo. It looked almost like an algorithm had generated it, filled with lines of text. Suhyun read through the content.
Hello! This is Park Juyeon, vocalist of Spirit's 23rd generation! Is this Senior XXX?
↪ [YES OR NO]
The reason I'm calling is that we're scheduled to hold our regular performance on XX month, XX day at XX. If it's convenient for you, Senior, we wanted to ask if you might be able to attend.
↪ [YES OR NO]
Yes! Thank you! Or, if you do plan to come, it would be wonderful if you could send a message to this number.
"Did you write this yourself?"
Suhyun's face had brightened considerably as he looked at Juyeon with open admiration.
"I-I figured I'd never be able to do it on the spot... so I made it last year."
Of course, the other members with better social skills probably didn't need such a thing. But for Suhyun right now, Juyeon's crib sheet was like a secret martial arts manual of the highest grade.
"I see. Thank you. This seems like something we should pass on to our juniors too, right?"
"...Is it that helpful?"
"There might be others like us someday."
At the word 'us,' Juyeon's heart began to race. A group had formed. A small, private group that none of the other members could ever intrude upon.
"Then... do you want to try using it now?"
"Right now?"
"Yeah."
With his mouth going dry, Suhyun nodded. It was something he had to do anyway. And doing it now, while the practice room was quieter than when the others were making their calls, didn't seem like a bad idea.
"Then... I'll start with this person."
[9th Generation Male Vocalist. Choi Sungkwang]
Even the name sounded intimidating. As Suhyun began dialing, Juyeon tensed up beside him as if it were her own task.
After quite a few long rings, a deep, middle-aged male voice finally answered.
Suhyun hadn't even gotten through half of the prepared script before the senior hung up.
"Whew..."
Sweat beaded on the hand holding Suhyun's phone. That was how nervous he had been.
"I survived thanks to you, Juyeon."
Suhyun expressed his gratitude with genuine sincerity. Instead of answering, Juyeon shyly held up her fingers in a small V sign.