Realization
Suhyun and Hana returned together, and Seoeun, who had been watching over the first-years for a while, came bounding over.
“What the heck! Hana, where have you been!”
“I had something to take care of for a bit.”
“Still, you could’ve at least answered your phone.”
“Sorry.”
The graduates and other seniors had long since finished optimizing the sound for the performance venue.
“Oh! It’s Hana!”
The 20th generation bassist, Choi Ji-hyuk, greeted her warmly.
“Hello, oppa.”
“It’s been a while. First time since last year’s regular performance, right?”
“Isn’t it? Or maybe not? Did you come when we were recruiting freshmen?”
“That wasn’t me. Are you mixing me up with someone?”
“What? You should’ve been there!”
If it had been Suhyun, the conversation would have left him stuttering, but Hana had a knack for letting it flow naturally like water. She finished greeting all the seniors a little late.
Now it was the current main generation—the second-years’—turn to show the seniors the results of their hard work. The 23rd generation approached the joint performance with a mindset quite different from their usual practices.
Seoeun burned with a sense of duty as president toward the 23rd generation she had built. Hana wanted to move forward using her desire for recognition as a stepping stone. Choi Kang aimed to prove that he was the face of the 23rd generation. Juyeon simply prayed for this time to pass quickly. And Suhyun intended to give everything he had just to hear that he was better than his predecessor on guitar.
The current 23rd generation members hardly ever talked about the previous guitarist and vocalist who had left for the military. Even when they did, it was only ever, “That guy really wasn’t much of a person.” They never brought up his skill level or how he performed. They thought they had blended in well with the current members, but the seniors’ evaluation might be different.
[Ah. Still, that previous guitarist played really well.]
[Yeah. It’s a shame. If only he hadn’t gone to the military.]
[And isn’t the performance a bit too stiff?]
Evaluations like that could naturally come up. Suhyun wanted to be free from the unpleasant pressure of feeling like he was being compared to an ex in terms of specs. Of course, he wanted to be free through skill.
“U-um, then we’ll begin.”
Juyeon tapped the end of the mic with her finger, received the members’ signals, and declared the start. The first song was Standing Luxury. It was the pick Hana had chosen and the song the 23rd generation had prepared for the longest time.
A smooth overdrive sound, common in alternative rock, layered beneath Juyeon’s voice.
Looking for the stars
Desiring shiny moonlight
Juyeon, holding the mic, captured the seniors’ eyes. On stage, she was clearly a different person from the introvert who kept her head down in everyday life.
Juyeon couldn’t easily reveal herself to others. She wasn’t good with words and found it hard to show her true feelings. That was precisely why she could love singing even more. Singing was the most refined way to borrow emotions.
The words she wanted to say. The feelings she was experiencing right now—she poured them completely into the song. It freed her and made her shine even brighter.
Standing luxury under the moonlight
Reaching for the starlight
The song reached its climax. The high-note part where breath ran short. Juyeon closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of the hot stage lights pouring down from above.
Gotta love the way I escape this earth
With a refreshing shout, the drums led the members into the main riff. Suhyun and Hana faced each other as they played the riff. Seoeun lifted her bass slightly upward for the live-performance version.
The drums thundered—doom-doom-dung, doom-doom-dung, doom-doom-dung, doom-doom-dung—then slowed with a final bam!
The members, eyes locked, played the final chord in perfect unison to close out the song.
—Clap clap clap clap clap clap clap
The seniors sitting in the audience all applauded at once.
“Ooh~ Not bad at all now that you’re the main generation, huh?”
“Yeah. Way better than last year. You kids~”
“Hyung-nim! We’ve all put in our time now, right?!”
Choi Kang laughed heartily from his drum chair and shouted.
“True. Kang, it’s almost time for you to go to the military too.”
“I’m public service, sir!”
It was an enormous shock. At the unimaginable statement, Suhyun’s body trembled. It’s a joke… right? Say it’s a joke. Someone with that massive build. Someone with that insane hell-chang body—if he didn’t protect the country, who the hell would?
“Huh? Kang-ah. You’re really doing public service?”
Another senior who had been listening asked.
“I got a grade 4!”
“Why?”
“Flat feet, sir!”
“…I see.”
The discharged soldiers felt sad at losing the chance to tease him, while those who hadn’t served yet couldn’t help but envy Choi Kang endlessly.
Juyeon, who had been standing next to Suhyun, quietly sidled closer.
“Suhyun-ah.”
“…Yeah?”
“What grade are you?”
Suhyun, whose heart was already in tatters, muttered in a low voice.
“…Grade 1.”
“You’re healthy.”
“Yeah.”
“Then why do you look so sad?”
Aaaah… This feeling couldn’t be explained in words. No. Even if he explained it, no one would understand. This pain! This sorrow! The absurdity of this world!
Instead of answering, Suhyun let out a deep sigh.
“Kids~ Let’s keep pushing forward! We still have a long way to go!”
They had prepared eight songs. Only one had passed, so plenty remained. Seoeun thought the balance of the festival setlist was excellent. First, they had secured the most important element—songs with broad appeal that the audience would enjoy. There were sweet acoustic love songs, rock covers of idol tracks, and famous songs from overseas bands that weren’t too difficult. The live reaction was practically a guaranteed check.
For the remaining songs, they had tried to respect the members’ tastes as much as possible. Songs that would let the 23rd generation improve their own skills. Songs with cool band sounds that the public might not know well. And finally, the grand finale: a song they had created themselves.
Dawn is Blue.
Even in Spirit, which boasted a long history, very few generations had produced their own original songs. There were plenty of people who could copy and faithfully reproduce someone else’s performance. But creation was an entirely different realm. You had to understand musical structure and also understand what you yourself wanted to express. It wasn’t that beginners could never make songs, but without fundamentals, composition was something you couldn’t even begin.
“Then now… we’ll perform our last prepared original song, Dawn is Blue.”
Juyeon gripped the mic with both hands. Even though she had told herself not to be nervous, Hana couldn’t stop her heart from pounding wildly. The people sitting in the audience felt like judges on an audition program. Especially when she saw Jaejun lounging with his arms crossed and a languid gaze—the feeling grew even stronger. He was practically her teacher, and he was also the only president of a generation that had created an original song.
“Here we go!”
—Clap clap clap clap
—Ba-ba-ba-ba bam-bam bam-ba-ba ba-ra-ra
The intro was a part where Hana played alone, without even the drums. After the melodic line played through once, the rest of the band entered all at once to support her.
“Ooh… What is this? It’s cool.”
“Yeah. They said Hana composed it?”
“That’s what I heard.”
“Jaejun, what do you think?”
In truth, Jaejun had already heard the demo several times while helping Seoeun, so it wasn’t particularly new to him.
“As long as they enjoy it, that’s enough.”
It wasn’t like they were entering a contest. They just needed to have fun among themselves and wrap it up. There was no point in nitpicking every little detail about what they did wrong or right.
By the time the second verse and chorus were ending, Juyeon timidly called out, “Guitar!” It was Suhyun’s solo part.
Jaejun uncrossed his arms and leaned forward in his chair. Hmm…?
First, the way the notes connected was unique. What scale was he using? He couldn’t grasp it right away. The second surprising thing was the level of completion. A solo within a band song had to deliver maximum impact in just a few bars. If Hana’s previous version had been plain and ordinary, this one was so compact and clean that it was believable a professional composer had written it. It didn’t seem like something Hana would do… Had Suhyun done this?
“Even if I melt~ disappear~ I will~”
When Juyeon successfully hit the final high note, the band carried the heightened atmosphere straight into the ending. Because the main riff from the beginning was repeated at the end, everyone attacked the chords with fierce strokes.
—Ba bam-bam ba ba-ba
The song ended. Beads of sweat rolled down Suhyun’s forehead. The first thing he checked was Hana’s expression. Her faintly pink face was a fifty-fifty mix of excitement and tension.
“Whoa~”
The seniors stood up and applauded together. The first-years, watching them, rode the wave and showered them with praise.
“Juyeon unnie! You were amazing!”
“Kang hyung! Psychou! (You’re the best!)”
“Seoeun unnie is so gorgeous…”
The 23rd generation members set their instruments on the stands and came down. The seniors were getting ready to leave now that the show was over.
“Wow. You guys managed to make an original song when even we couldn’t!”
Ho-seong, the 20th generation drummer, praised the 23rd generation kids as if he were proud of them.
“Um~ Well… it’s more like Hana carried us!”
Seoeun squeezed and rubbed Hana’s shoulders with both hands.
“Hey. Don’t hype me up.”
“Why~ You like it when people compliment you inside~”
This damn sister. Her senses were annoyingly sharp for no reason.
“Jaejun oppa! Hurry up and compliment our original song too! Please?”
Jaejun couldn’t resist Seoeun’s aegyo and walked over to the members. Hana’s mouth twitched in anticipation that the arrogant Jaejun would praise her. What would he say? That the riff was cool? Or that the chorus was well-written? She had put effort into the bridge part too…
As Hana swallowed nervously, Jaejun walked right past her.
Ignored. It was a clear, blatant ignore.
He stopped in front of Suhyun, who had been quietly chatting with Juyeon.
“The solo. You made that, right, Suhyun?”
Completely unprepared for a senior to speak to him, Suhyun froze on the spot.
“Pardon? Me?”
“You made it, didn’t you?”
“Ah… Y-yes.”
“It was cool. I liked it.”
Jaejun reached out and patted Suhyun’s shoulder a couple of times. Suhyun felt good about the recognition, but instinctively turned his head toward Hana. The moment their eyes met, Hana looked away as if fleeing.
“Kids! You worked hard!”
The seniors began leaving the auditorium one by one.
“Oppa! You have to come to the actual performance, okay?”
“Hey. I’m job-hunting. No can do.”
“Hyung-nim! I’ll be waiting!”
“Kang-ah. Hyung has to live in the real world now too… Hyung’s getting old.”
The rehearsal in front of the seniors ended amid the noisy atmosphere. After seeing them off, Seoeun dragged her tired body back into the auditorium.
“Kids… You all worked so hard…”
With this, everything they needed to do had come to an end. All that remained was to enjoy the stage. Seoeun tried to feel proud of herself for overcoming another huge hurdle.
“Unnie! You worked so hard~”
“No, no~ It’s fine~ Let’s all go back and rest now! Managing your condition before the performance is important too.”
Everyone packed up their instruments and left the auditorium. Throughout the process, Hana didn’t speak to anyone. When she silently slung her guitar gig bag over her shoulder and tried to leave, Suhyun followed after her like he was chasing her.
“Hana.”
“What.”
He had come out because he was worried about her, but Suhyun had no idea what to say.
“W-want to get something to eat together?”
This was the best he could do. He was even willing to buy if she wanted.
“I’m not that hungry. The first-years said they were going to eat earlier—why don’t you go join them now?”
Her voice was calm and detached, with no trace of anger. But Hana still kept her back turned, refusing to show Suhyun her face.
“No, that’s not what I…”
“Lee Suhyun.”
She stopped walking abruptly.
“You don’t have to worry about me.”
Beyond her soft yellow hair, Hana’s eyes sparkled. It wasn’t an exaggerated description. Her eyes were so full of moisture that it looked like tears would spill at any moment.
“Just go.”
Hana turned away again and walked forward. Suhyun bit his lip hard. Was it really right to let her leave like this?
Without realizing it, Suhyun clutched the ring necklace Hana had given him. Is someone like me even allowed to do something like this? It wasn’t rational. He couldn’t even tell if this was the right thing to do.
But this time, he decided to follow where his heart pointed.
—Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap
Suhyun succeeded in catching up to Hana, who was moving away with light, quick steps. He roughly grabbed her wrist.
“Hey. You. What…”
Hana couldn’t finish her sentence. Suhyun’s arm wrapped around her shoulders.
“…You did well. Really.”
The arm that had been trying to push him away lost its strength.
“No matter what the seniors said, I really like the song you made.”
The moisture that had gathered in Hana’s round eyes finally spilled down her cheeks. She could feel Suhyun’s body heat. Hana didn’t dislike his warmth.
“It was the best. Hana.”
Hana’s hand, which had been awkwardly facing the ground, gently traced Suhyun’s back.
“…Say it one more time.”
It wasn’t difficult. He could say it as many times as she wanted, even as a friend.
“Your song was the best. Hana.”
Hana had no choice but to cleanly acknowledge the name of the emotion blooming inside her.
Twenty-one years old. Yoon Hana. For the first time, I have someone I like.