The Uninvited Guest
Even after stepping off the stage, Suhyun's heart was still racing. Backstage once again, the first-year juniors swarmed in to greet their seniors.
“You worked hard out there!”
“Kang hyung! That was seriously badass, dude?”
“Hana unnie! Can we share the stuff you posted to your story? I think I got some really good shots!”
The juniors clustered in groups of three or five, showering them with praise. In front of Suhyun, Taeho—the one he could probably call his direct junior—stood there hyping him up too.
“Suhyun hyung! You were so cool!”
“Thanks.”
Cool. The word felt unfamiliar, but it still made him feel good.
“Ah~ Do you think next year I’ll be able to pull off a clean solo like you, hyung?”
“...Yeah. I did it, so you can too.”
Suhyun answered a little bashfully. But he wasn’t lying. He genuinely believed that if the current 24th generation worked hard enough, they could perform just as well as the 23rd—maybe even better.
“Haa… Still, doing two shows in one day is pretty brutal.”
The performances weren’t over yet. After the outdoor show came the main event—the regular indoor concert in the evening.
“Still, it feels better to show it twice instead of just once.”
They’d practiced this hard. It would’ve felt like such a waste to perform it only once and then put it away.
“You think so?”
“Opportunities to perform as Spirit don’t come around that often.”
How many more times would they be able to stand on stage with exactly these members? Once today was over, the only officially scheduled show left was the winter regular concert. Of course, today wasn’t even finished yet, so drinking the kimchi soup early was a bit much—but even so, Suhyun felt a little gloomy.
“I guess that makes sense for you, hyung. This is my first time.”
“I should’ve just joined Spirit back in my first year.”
The year he’d wasted in Purple Storm stung more than he could bear. Maybe he would’ve been rejected at the audition back then anyway, but right now Suhyun hated himself for not having the courage to even try.
“Hey. Lee Suhyun.”
Hana walked up to him, guitar still slung over her back.
“Yeah?”
“I saved all the photos they took of you, so ask me for them later, okay?”
Hana was offering to share the pictures taken during the performance. This completely normal, fair gesture felt strangely foreign to Suhyun.
“Who took the photos?”
“The kids did.”
“The kids?”
“My department friends.”
...Oh. So that’s how it normally worked?
Suhyun, who had never had anyone to call on, scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.
“...My friends really like watching our shows, you know.”
From behind them came Juyeon’s quiet voice. She must have walked over without them noticing.
“That’s why they take pictures of each member one by one and send them all to Hana.”
It was the most natural thing in the world, but Juyeon hadn’t had a single person come to the outdoor stage to see her either.
“Everyone’s just trying to get a nice profile pic out of it~ Park Juyeon! You acted all shy but you still took them!”
Hana rested her chin on Juyeon’s shoulder.
“...Tell your friends I said thank you, Hana.”
There was no medium that evoked nostalgia as directly as a photograph. No matter how beautiful a memory was, it would eventually fade with time. People left behind images and videos so they wouldn’t forget the memories that were slowly growing dim.
Juyeon almost never took pictures of herself. Taking photos with others was also extremely rare for her. That was why the individual and group photos taken during her Spirit activities were the only traces of her twenties. She had never told the members, but Juyeon cherished the photos Hana gave her more than anyone else.
“Ah~ I wonder how many people will show up for the regular concert. I’m so nervous it’s killing me.”
The conversation naturally shifted to the next performance.
“Lee Suhyun. Park Juyeon. So how many people did you two end up inviting?”
Suhyun and Juyeon flinched and looked at each other. Just from their trembling eyes, they could read each other’s thoughts perfectly.
‘...Wait, you too?’
‘Yup. Yup.’
“Ahaha… Should we go buy some bread or something, Juyeon?”
“...I want cream puffs.”
“Hey! Why are you two ignoring me!”
Yoon Hana chased after the two who were trying to escape.
The atmosphere of an outdoor performance and a regular concert is completely different. It’s because the nature of the audience itself is entirely different.
The outdoor audience mostly consisted of students who had come to enjoy the vague atmosphere of a festival and were wandering between various performances. The regular concert, on the other hand, drew people who came to the auditorium specifically to see the one club called Spirit.
In other words, the level of attention and focus was on completely different scales.
“Unnie… Do you think I’ll be able to do the MC lines properly?”
Fifteen minutes until the regular concert began. The 24th generation’s female vocalist, Jiyeon, was clutching Juyeon’s hand and bowing her head like she was making a confession.
“Come on. You can do it…!”
“What if I stutter really badly and end up becoming a total joke!”
For a moment, Juyeon didn’t know what kind of expression to make. There didn’t seem to be any malice behind the words, but they still hurt more than she expected.
“Everyone’s going to be nice about it anyway, so don’t put too much pressure on yourself~”
Seoeun calmed the anxious first-years.
“Everyone here came because they like you guys.”
Of course, there were a few who came purely out of curiosity for the band performance itself, but they were a tiny minority. Most were friends, juniors, or seniors who had come to support someone they knew.
“Kids. What are you supposed to do if you make a mistake?”
The one piece of rote education Seoeun had drilled into her juniors.
“We have to get back into it as naturally as possible!”
A performance was no different from a presentation. Even if you panicked, it was important to calmly find your place again and regain your pace.
“Right. You remembered well. You can’t just stand there frozen with a face that says ‘I messed up!’ right?”
No matter how friendly the audience was, it was hard for them to look kindly on a performer who stood there awkwardly, shrinking into themselves.
“Yes!”
“Yes, unnie!”
“If you close your eyes and open them again, it’ll probably be over for you guys.”
The first-years only had four songs total. The sessions were a bit longer, but considering the male and female vocalists each had two songs, it would all be over in about ten minutes.
And soon enough, that time arrived.
Suhyun and the rest of the 23rd generation watched the first-years step onto the stage with nervous hearts.
“Hello everyone~”
Juyeon felt a surge of indignation. Jiyeon… She had said she was nervous, but…! She was delivering her lines way too smoothly!
“Then let’s jump right into the first song!”
Clap clap clap clap—
The 24th generation’s drummer, Ji Sohye, signaled the start. She wasn’t paying any attention to the audience. There was only one person she wanted to be acknowledged by.
It was Choi Kang, standing right there with his arms crossed, watching the first-years.
It was true that through all her efforts, Sohye had grown much closer to him than before. The three of them—including Suhyun—had gone to the gym together, and she had even received drum lessons thanks to Seoeun’s help. But it still wasn’t enough. She still hadn’t won his heart.
Not knowing what more she could possibly do, the only thing left for her was to swing her drumsticks with everything she had.
I’m working this hard.
Please look at me.
I’m doing this much—aren’t you going to watch?
The feelings she couldn’t put into words became rhythm, echoing through the auditorium.
“Whoa… Sohye has improved a lot.”
Hana, standing beside Kang, let out a short exclamation.
“...It’s all thanks to my teaching.”
“That’s hilarious. You only taught her because Seoeun unnie dragged you into it.”
“Still, teaching is teaching.”
Kang, who had been watching the stage, closed both eyes. Blocking one sense only made the others sharper. The bass, which resembled the sound of a heartbeat, definitely carried more power than before.
“...I have to admit it. But she’s still far from catching up to me!”
“Stop talking nonsense and just compliment her at the after-party later.”
Hana cut Kang off and shook her head in exasperation.
“She worked her ass off all by herself.”
It wasn’t just Sohye who had grown. The guitarist Hyejeong and Taeho were also showing dazzling improvement compared to when they first joined.
It wasn’t perfect. Even now, he could hear occasional squeaks and mistakes here and there. But what Hana valued most was that they had faithfully followed every single point she had pointed out to them.
So the kids didn’t just ignore what I said.
They actually took their senior’s advice seriously and practiced.
That sense of fulfillment quickly turned into affection, and Hana looked at the 24th generation with much warmer eyes.
“That’s it for us! From now on, the 23rd generation sunbaes will show you an even cooler stage, so please look forward to it! Thank you so much!”
After the 24th generation’s vocalist, Gunwoo, gave his final greeting, the lights on stage dimmed completely.
“Let’s go let’s go let’s go let’s go!”
At Seoeun’s whisper, the 23rd generation—who had already strapped on their instruments—hurried forward. The moment each of them reached their designated spots, a vivid crimson light once again illuminated the stage.
Suhyun scanned the audience seats. He had been curious how many people would show up. It looked like about two-thirds of the seats were filled. That meant at least seventy to eighty people.
“Ah. Ah.”
Juyeon blew into the mic a couple times, then began her greeting.
“Hello…! I’m Park Juyeon, the vocalist for the 23rd generation.”
Unlike the outdoor performance, there was no time limit here. Just as she had prepared in advance, Juyeon took the time to introduce each member one by one.
“Our generation’s… drummer, Choi Kang!”
Her voice was rather weak for someone introducing the name Choi Kang, but Kang shot up from his seat and slammed his drumstick downward. A sharp cymbal crash rang through the hall.
“On bass is our spiritual pillar and president…! Seoeun unnie!”
Seoeun waved with her usual bright, goofy smile.
“Next is our generation’s ace and visual center! On guitar, it’s Hana!”
Hana made a V sign with her fingers and waved it toward her friends. She even threw in a little wink, fully aware that photos would be taken. She was the very definition of a social butterfly.
“And the guitarist who joined us this year.”
Suhyun, who had been debating what gesture to make, simply raised his hand slightly.
“It’s Suhyun…!”
Scattered applause and a few cheers could be heard. Maybe because he didn’t have any friends, the volume was noticeably lower than when Hana had been introduced. Still, he thought it was enough to be satisfied—until his eyes, sweeping across the seats, found someone.
He doubted his own eyes.
But no matter how many times he looked, it was definitely the person he knew.
Someone who didn’t belong here. Someone he had never imagined running into in a place like this.
The moment he saw her, his chest tightened and his mood turned strange.
The leader of Purple Storm, the one who had ruined his entire first year.
Nayong was looking down at him.