10 - Among Geniuses (3)
10 - Among Geniuses (3)
10.
When people hear the phrase “genius singer,” they imagine many things: powerful high notes, clear diction, outstanding vocal technique, a beautiful tone, emotional delivery, and more.
So what kind of talent does Yoon Suyeon have?
Solid fundamentals? That one is complicated. Compared to Seolwon Arts students, her basics are still lacking. Of course they are—those students have trained for years, while Suyeon only began proper training recently.
Diction? She’s very good. But not yet at a level you’d call genius.
High notes? Not really. Her voice doesn’t suit them in the first place.
In Yoon Hajun’s opinion, Suyeon’s true talents lie elsewhere: tone and emotional delivery.
In everyday life, her voice is ordinary. But the moment she sings, it becomes something else entirely. It’s like a rainy dawn—a moist, emotional voice that feels like late-night spring rain.
And when she sings emotional songs, her voice reaches straight into your heart and takes control.
Suyeon closed her eyes and began to sing.
Let’s leave on a journey.
Let’s throw everything away,
and run far, far away.
Something felt strange.
As she sang, Suyeon found herself filled with awe. How should she describe this feeling? The more she sang, the more the melody fit perfectly in her mouth. It felt natural—like the song belonged to her.
She had never experienced that before.
And she was right.
The song she was singing, Runaway, had been written solely for her.
Originally, Runaway was a dark, heavy song—about self-hatred, lack of talent, and the desire to escape a cruel reality. But Hajun tore it apart and rebuilt it for Suyeon, transforming it into something free and liberating.
Let’s turn off our tangled daily life,
and leave this crowded city behind.
He replaced the sticky, heavy melody with something brighter and more refreshing, slowing the tempo slightly to maximize Suyeon’s charm. The result was an incredibly groovy track.
Hajun watched her sing.
This song was atonement.
For the sister who gave up her own dreams because of him. For the girl who suffered in silence. An apology.
And this wasn’t the only song he had prepared for her. He had many more, and he would keep writing them.
Her lost youth.
Her forgotten dreams.
Her stolen smiles.
Everything she had been forced to give up.
He would return all of it to her.
There was no doubt about it. That was why he had been given this second chance.
§ § §
“Did you have fun today?”
On the way home after finishing the recording, I asked Suyeon.
“Yeah! So, so much! It was really fun!”
She nodded enthusiastically. I couldn’t help but smile. Seeing her this happy made everything worth it.
“Do you think… I can record with you again?”
She asked cautiously.
This time, I nodded without hesitation. “Of course.”
We’d keep working together. To work with a genius like her, I would have to keep composing nonstop—at least until she was firmly on the right path. Until then, I would stay by her side.
“But what are you going to do with the song we recorded?”
“I’m thinking of uploading it on Cloud.”
“Cloud?”
“It’s a free music streaming site. Anyone can upload songs.”
“Oh.”
Even though it’s free, Cloud isn’t insignificant. It’s one of the largest platforms in the world, and plenty of singers have debuted through it.
“So we’re uploading it right away?”
“Not yet. There are still things that need work.”
“Not ready?” She lowered her head slightly. “I guess I’m still lacking—”
“That’s not what I mean.”
I lightly tapped her head. She flailed her hands, protesting.
“Then what’s missing?”
“I still need to mix and master it.”
“Mixing? Mastering?”
“Think of mixing as balancing the sounds and adding details, and mastering as adjusting the overall volume and polish.”
I explained as simply as possible. Someday, I should probably teach her composition too.
“So once that’s done, we upload it?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“It feels weird thinking other people will listen to my singing. It’s exciting… but also embarrassing. And kind of scary.”
She twisted a strand of hair around her finger. I knew that feeling well—I’d felt the same way the first time I released a track.
“What if people say mean things? Like, the song is good but the singer sucks… or something.”
“It’s fine. That won’t happen.”
If anything, the opposite might.
Suyeon’s talent is top-class. I’ve met real geniuses. I know what I’m saying. She still has weaknesses, but those can be fixed.
Someday, the whole world will know her name.
“One day… I want to stand on stage with you.”
She said it softly.
I froze mid-step.
“Oppa?”
She called my name. The alley was dark, and I couldn’t see her expression.
I forced a smile. “Yeah. I’d like that too.”
For some reason, my voice trembled.
§ § §
“Did you stay up all night?”
Monday morning. I was half-asleep at my desk when Taeyoung asked.
I yawned widely and nodded. “Yeah. I was working.”
“On what?”
“Mixing and mastering.”
I’d spent the entire weekend working on Runaway, the song Suyeon recorded. Thanks to sacrificing sleep, the track was nearly finished.
“Oh? You already recorded?”
“Yeah.”
“You sang it?”
“No. My sister did.”
Taeyoung blinked. “You have a sister?”
“One younger sister.”
“She wants to be a singer too?”
I nodded instead of answering. God, I was tired.
“Come to think of it, weren’t you a vocal major originally?”
“Yeah. I got in with vocal.”
“Then why switch to composition? You could’ve just minored in it.”
At Seolwon Arts, minors are normally not allowed—except in Practical Music, where vocal majors often minor in composition.
“I have my reasons.”
In my case, it was impossible. Even focusing on one thing barely gave me enough time. If someone with limited talent wanted to beat geniuses, they had to pour everything into a single path.
“Is your sister good?”
“Crazy good.”
…Why was he so interested in my sister?
I eyed him as I answered. He looked oddly troubled.
“Why?”
“Huh? Oh, nothing. I was just curious how good she is. By the way, could you let me hear the track later?”
“That’s easy.”
Perfect timing. I wanted feedback anyway. I planned to let Seongmin hear it this weekend, but the more feedback, the better.
And Kim Taeyoung wasn’t just anyone. He was a top-class pianist and a future world-class singer. Feedback from him would be invaluable.
“So, practice room again after class today?”
“Of course.”
“Then let’s meet after major class.”
I nodded.
Oh, right. Today was major class day.
At Seolwon Arts, major classes are held after regular classes, one-on-one, fifty minutes each. The instructors are external professionals, and choosing the right one is extremely important.
But first-years don’t know who’s good yet. So they try every instructor once, then choose the one that suits them best.
“Who’s your instructor today?” Taeyoung asked.
I checked my schedule.
“…Ha Hyoju? Never heard of them.”
Seolwon Arts has plenty of famous instructors—active singers and top producers. Naturally, students want to learn from them.
“Well,” I muttered, putting the schedule away, “there are five major instructors. I’ll pick a good one later.”