101 – A Short Break (3)
101 – A Short Break (3)
With the school trip just around the corner, the atmosphere in the Practical Music Department wasn’t exactly bright. There was a very important exam coming up before that—the final exams and the first-semester major exam, both extremely important tests.
“What are you submitting for the major exam this time?”
“I’m submitting a song I already made.”
I answered Kim Taeyoung while letting out a lazy yawn. Since I’d decided to take it easy until the school trip, I hadn’t prepared a new song specifically for the major exam.
I already had plenty of songs I’d made before. I could just submit the one with the highest level of completion. So which of my songs was the most complete?
Obviously, it was the song I gave to Suyeon this time—To Live On. Honestly, I thought To Live On was more than enough to qualify for a scholarship.
It’s not like the teachers would complain just because I submitted a song I’d made beforehand. Other students were evaluated for their major exams using songs they’d performed at events, too.
“What about you?”
“I’m a vocal major, so I’ll just sing whatever. I sing all the time at the company anyway.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
I replied casually and leaned back against the desk. Huh. Is it because I’ve been sleeping well at night lately? I’m not sleepy at all. But it’s way too late to start studying for finals now.
And I already decided to rest, so studying now would feel kind of wrong.
“But what have you been up to lately?”
“Huh?”
“I mean, you said you’re resting and not making songs these days. I just can’t picture you doing nothing but resting without making music.”
At Kim Taeyoung’s serious voice—his brows even knit together—I snorted in disbelief. Was that really something to take so seriously?
“Nothing different from other people. Watching movies, reading books, listening to other songs.”
Basically, it was a new hobby and a form of studying at the same time. Not that it was anything grand. I’d just been watching music videos and studying their directing.
Like when I made a song for Kim Hanol before, I’d also watch movies or dramas and study how scenes were constructed. That kind of thing.
And honestly, calling it “studying” was a stretch. I was just enjoying dramas and movies I hadn’t watched before. The studying part was just a side bonus.
“Hm. So you’re actually a normal person.”
“Well, yeah. I’m human. What, you thought I was some song-making machine?”
“I kind of did.”
At Kim Taeyoung’s smiling face as he said that, I smiled back and lightly kicked his calf.
“Ah!! What the hell—why’d you kick me?!”
“Watch yourself.”
Honestly, I just felt annoyed for no real reason.
§ § §
“This year’s first-years are a bit disappointing.”
“I agree.”
At Department Head Lee Sanggyu’s comment, Teacher Kim Jin-gyu quickly responded. It wasn’t flattery—he genuinely thought so.
In fact, the other teachers were nodding along in agreement with Lee Sanggyu and Kim Jin-gyu. There was only one teacher who didn’t agree.
Ha Hyoju.
“I don’t think this year’s first-years are that lacking. It’s just… how should I put it? Last year’s first-years—this year’s second-years—were exceptionally good, so the bar was set unusually high. Compared to that, this batch just feels a bit underwhelming.”
“Hm. That’s true, too.”
Lee Sanggyu nodded at Ha Hyoju’s words. Hearing it that way, it did make sense. Compared to the second-years, they were lacking, but compared to the third-years, they weren’t that far behind.
“And I think the top first-years, Jinhu and Suyeon, are impressive enough. Especially Suyeon—she has great synergy with her older brother Hajun, and her own talent is outstanding. I think she can surpass Goyo someday.”
“Suyeon’s performance of To Live On was good. The siblings really do have great synergy. And I heard she showed an excellent performance in this major exam as well.”
“I agree with most of that, but I find it hard to agree that Suyeon can surpass Goyo. Don’t you remember Goyo’s major exam? Goyo is already complete.”
“That’s only because Goyo started earlier. Given time, I think Suyeon can reach that level.”
“Hm. For a composition major, you’re surprisingly knowledgeable about vocals, Teacher Ha.”
The teachers continued their childish power struggle, trading opinions—who was more talented, who had more potential. A pointless, petty argument.
Hoo.
Lee Sanggyu let out a deep sigh at the sight. Really. How old were they all, still acting like this?
“So in the end, there are some first-year vocalists who hold up well even compared to the second-years, but when it comes to composition, they fall short compared to the second-years.”
At that moment, Kim Jin-gyu neatly summarized the entire argument. The teachers nodded. This time, even Ha Hyoju couldn’t refute it.
More precisely, she couldn’t refute it because she was a composition major teacher herself. In vocals, there was Yoon Suyeon, someone who could be compared to the once-in-a-generation monster Han Goyo—but in composition, there was no such figure.
Even excluding Yoon Hajun, who occupied the Han Goyo position in composition, there wasn’t even a student on par with the second-ranked Kang Seong-hun.
Honestly, Seong-hun is exceptional too.
Within the category of popular music, Kang Seong-hun had remarkable talent. The only reason someone that talented was merely an overwhelming second place was because Yoon Hajun was just that extraordinary.
“So it’s almost time for that student Hajun.”
“Indeed.”
“I’m really looking forward to what kind of song he brings this time.”
“It’s Hajun, after all. Teacher Hyo-ju, have you heard anything?”
At the teachers’ faces—excited like they were about to meet their first love—Ha Hyoju shook her head.
It wasn’t because she found them pathetic.
“Unfortunately, I haven’t heard anything this time. He’s probably been very busy since signing with a company.”
“That can’t be helped.”
It was simply because she hadn’t heard anything from Yoon Hajun. He used to let her hear bits of the songs he planned to submit for exams.
Was this how it felt to watch a disciple leave your care? She didn’t want to feel that way toward a student who hadn’t even graduated yet.
“Then we’ll just have to hear it directly.”
Lee Sanggyu laughed as he said it. No matter what anyone said, the person most excited to see Yoon Hajun’s performance here was Lee Sanggyu himself.
Soon, a student entered the exam room for the major exam. The teachers fell silent. They could chatter during breaks, but not in front of students.
And finally, it was Yoon Hajun’s turn. Seeing him neatly dressed, with hair just as tidy as his clothes, Lee Sanggyu smiled broadly.
“It’s been a while, Hajun.”
It was obvious special treatment, but none of the teachers complained. They felt the same way.
“I’m looking forward to what kind of song you brought today.”
“Ah, thank you.”
Yoon Hajun handed over the work summary he’d prepared in advance. The moment the teachers received it, their expressions twisted with disappointment.
The title written on the summary was far too familiar.
To Live On.
No way—was it really that song?
“Is… is this just the same title, but a different song?”
“No. It’s the same song.”
The moment Yoon Hajun finished speaking, the disappointment on the teachers’ faces deepened. In Lee Sanggyu’s case, he looked so dejected it was as if he’d lost his country.
“……Let’s listen to the performance first.”
“Yes.”
Unaware—or perhaps aware—of Lee Sanggyu’s feelings, Yoon Hajun smiled brightly and picked up his guitar.
§ § §
“It’s over!!”
I was waiting for the others in the practice room after finishing the major exam when Kim Taeyoung burst in, shouting.
Looking at him in disbelief, I said, “Anyone would think you studied really hard.”
“No, it just feels like you’re supposed to say that when exams are over. More importantly, how’d your exam go?”
“The reaction itself didn’t seem bad.”
“But?”
“The teachers’ expressions were kind of strange. Like… they looked disappointed.”
At my words, Kim Taeyoung stared at me as if asking what I meant. I shrugged. I didn’t really know either.
The evaluation of the song itself was very positive. I got plenty of praise and kind words. So why did the teachers look unhappy?
“So where’s Han Goyo? She took her exam before me.”
“She went to the snack shop for a bit. More importantly, are you really okay not going to the company today?”
“During exams, it’s fine not to go.”
At Kim Taeyoung waving it off, I hummed softly. The trainee life wasn’t usually that forgiving.
Maybe it was because it was Kim Taeyoung.
“Anyway, let’s hurry up and plan our schedule. This might be our last school trip—you don’t want regrets. Let’s make a perfect route with zero wasted time and burn our youth properly.”
“So what do we ride first? It’s gotta be Gyro Drop.”
At my words, Kim Taeyoung nodded as if that was fine. He then pulled out a map of Neverland—who knows where he got it—and spread it on the floor.
“Gyro Drop is over here, so if we start from there and make a big loop…”
“Where’d you get the map?”
“One of the trainees lives in Yongin, so I asked him.”
This guy is seriously committed to the school trip. Well, fine. If you’re going to have fun, might as well do it properly. As I chatted along with Kim Taeyoung, the practice room door opened and Goyo walked in.
“Oh, Han Goyo. Perfect timing. Come here and tell us where you want to go.”
“Where I want to go?”
“Yeah. We need to decide the route. You want to ride Chain Train too, right? It’s Neverland’s signature ride.”
“You said you wanted to ride Dragon Dive too. Pick one.”
“How can I pick just one? Dragon Dive’s vertical drop and Chain Train’s top speed are totally different kinds of fun.”
“But the wait times for both will be insane.”
“Still! If you don’t ride both, it’s a waste!”
While Kim Taeyoung and I argued about rides, Goyo came over to my side and stared intently at the map.
Then, as if she’d spotted something, she let out a small exclamation and pointed somewhere.
“I want to go here.”
“Animal Valley?”
The place Goyo pointed to was a zoo called Animal Valley, where you could see various animals. Hm. Animal Valley. Wasn’t it said to be the largest zoo in Korea?
“Come on, going all the way to Neverland just to see a zoo feels kind of lame, doesn’t it?”
“……I want to go.”
At Kim Taeyoung’s comment, Goyo looked disappointed. It seemed like Taeyoung didn’t want to go to the zoo.
After thinking for a moment, I spoke.
“Then should we split up for a bit?”
“Huh?”
“You want to ride Chain Train, right? The wait’ll be like two hours anyway. During that time, Goyo can look around Animal Valley.”
“Hm… splitting up after going all that way feels weird, but just once…”
He didn’t like the idea, but the thought of riding Chain Train tempted him enough to hesitate. While he was conflicted, Goyo looked at me and asked carefully.
“Then… where are you going to go?”
“I don’t know.”
I was fine with both Chain Train and Animal Valley. As I was thinking about it, Goyo reached out and tugged gently on the hem of my summer uniform.
She opened and closed her mouth a few times, hesitating, then spoke in a very small voice—so quiet you wouldn’t hear it unless you were right next to her.
“Um… c-could you go with me?”
“Where? Animal Valley?”
“Yeah. Going there alone feels kind of awkward.”
Thinking about it, that made sense. I glanced at Kim Taeyoung, then nodded readily. Honestly, wandering Animal Valley with Goyo sounded way better than riding rides with another guy.
It was a bit of a shame there wasn’t an aquarium, though.
But land animals had their own charm.
“Okay. Let’s do that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
When I nodded, color returned to Goyo’s face, and soon her cheeks flushed red. What, is she already imagining animals? I didn’t know she liked animals that much.
Then again, on the last school trip, she went to an aquarium alone, didn’t she? If she liked them enough to do that in Jeju, it made sense.
“Alright. Then you and Goyo go to Animal Valley. I’ll ride Chain Train by myself and meet up after. Then Ghost House, dinner, and watching the stage—perfect.”
“Yeah, let’s do that.”
“I’m fine with it too.”
At Kim Taeyoung’s neat summary, I nodded, and Goyo nodded along with me. Even then, Goyo’s ears were still red.
§ § §
“I’m so jealous of Neverland~~!! I want to go to Neverland too!!”
When I got home, Suyeon was flailing around on the sofa, shouting. Hey—she’s grown now. What is she doing, acting like that on the sofa?
“You can go to Neverland with your friends.”
“I know, but our school trip destination is the worst.”
“Why? Where are the first-years going?”
“Busan!”
Suyeon answered in an annoyed voice. Busan, huh. Well, at least it wasn’t the worst. I thought they might’ve gotten Jirisan.
“You went to Jeju last year, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why are we going to Busan?”
She pouted, pushing out her lower lip. She really didn’t like it. I guess it made sense—other departments were going to Japan, her brother was going to Neverland, and she was stuck with Busan.
“At least it’s not Jirisan.”
“Jirisan?”
“Yeah. I’ve never been, just heard stories, but apparently if you go there, you spend two out of the three days hiking.”
At my words, Suyeon’s face went pale. She was someone who found even the daily walk to school annoying. There was no way she’d handle hiking well.
“Busan’s still a nice city, so go have fun.”
“Okay. But!”
“Hm?”
“Bring me back a souvenir.”
“A souvenir?”
“I heard Neverland’s own shop is doing a collab with this doll.”
As she said that, Suyeon showed me her cherished stuffed doll, Biseoni—a massive plush weighing a full seven kilograms. Neverland was doing a collab with something like that?
“It’s limited edition, so you have to buy it for me.”
“Alright.”
“Promise.”
“Yeah. Promise.”
After making that promise, we talked about all sorts of school-trip things. Since it was her first high-school trip, she seemed incredibly excited.
She wanted to do this, wanted to do that, wondering what else she needed to prepare. I sternly told her not to drink alcohol no matter what.
Enjoying a once-in-a-lifetime school trip was fine, but underage drinking was something I absolutely wouldn’t allow as her older brother.
And while Suyeon lay awake at night, buzzing with anticipation, and I rested leisurely—
Before we knew it, the day of the school trip arrived.