34 - Giant Killing (4)
34 - Giant Killing (4)
34.
“Ugh, I’m exhausted.”
Muttering that, Jin Sohyang threw herself onto the bed. She was so tired she couldn’t even pronounce her words properly. Now that the arrangement was finished, the real practice had begun.
During the day, she practiced with Yoon Hajun. In the evenings, she practiced choreography with Teacher Hanna. And it wasn’t just dance practice—today, she even had to record in the school’s recording studio.
But the hardest part wasn’t the dance practice. It was the recording. Sure, choreography practice was tiring, but she was confident in her stamina, and compared to preparing an album, this was actually easy.
The recording, on the other hand, was even harder than album work.
In Hwayangyeonhwa’s albums, Sohyang’s parts were tiny. Maybe twenty seconds in a song—thirty if she was lucky. And that included harmonies, not just solo lines. Recording was actually the easiest part of promotions.
But for the Practical Music Concert, she had to do everything alone from beginning to end.
Three minutes and twelve seconds.
The entire runtime of “Rough” was her part.
And Yoon Hajun’s recording style was brutal. If he didn’t like even one tiny part, he immediately demanded a retake.
They’d already been recording for two days and still weren’t done. Was this okay? They also had to prep the stage production—would they even have enough time?
“Sohyang-ah!”
Right as she was thinking that, the door suddenly burst open. At the same time, Hwayangyeonhwa’s leader and eldest member, Harin, walked in.
“W-what the—”
“Did practice go well?”
Sohyang blinked in confusion at the sudden intruder, then nodded and narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
Harin was unpredictable. Her personality bounced all over the place—no one ever knew what she would do next. In the industry, she was famous for being “4D,” and she was extremely popular on variety shows because of it. That also made her the most well-known member of the group.
“You’re preparing for the Practical Music Concert opening stage, right?”
“Huh? How do you know that?”
Sohyang hadn’t told them the details of her schedule. The older members kept asking, but she only said she was practicing for a schedule.
So how did Harin know?
“I mean, duh. I checked the school website—it was right there.”
“…Ah.”
Right. Harin was also a graduate of Seolwon Arts High. Of all people, why did the one person she least wanted to know have to find out?
“Unnie, you know you can’t post about it on Insta or anything, right?”
“Of course I know.”
It couldn’t be helped if the school used her for promotion. But if her group members posted it on Instagram, that was a whole different story.
If Hwayangyeonhwa members promoted it, tons of fans would show up. Then the event could get completely flipped around.
The main stars of the Practical Music Concert weren’t her, but the graduating seniors. It was a very important stage that could affect their careers. She didn’t want to cause trouble.
“No need to worry about that.”
Harin reached over and patted Sohyang’s head. Sohyang let out a relieved sigh. Harin might be unpredictable, but she wasn’t inconsiderate.
As a leader, she was actually incredibly reliable.
To think she had doubted her even for a second—Sohyang was about to feel guilty when Harin said, “Instead! We decided to go watch you with the CEO! Don’t worry! We’ll all wear disguises! Hats, sunglasses, masks—the full set!”
“…What?”
“And the CEO even contacted your parents. They’re coming too. I’m excited! The CEO said we’ll bring cameras too, so it might even end up as content on iTube!”
“AAAAAAHHH!!”
Sohyang screamed.
Her parents? The members? The CEO?! Watching her?!
That was even worse!
This was supposed to be a small stage just to get rid of lingering regrets—why was it becoming such a big deal?!
“Work hard, Sohyang-ah!”
Sohyang wanted to cry.
§ § §
“Are you okay? Nothing hurts?”
“I’m fine!”
At Sohyang’s question, Suyeon answered energetically. Hearing that, Sohyang nodded in approval. Hajun blinked as he watched.
Did something happen? Sohyang seemed even more fired up than usual. No—she had been motivated before too, but now she had zero tolerance for even the smallest mistake.
Hmm. Not bad.
“When’s the actual performance?”
“July 27.”
“Mmm… That’s less than two weeks.”
“Yeah.”
And next week was the mid-stage.
The mid-stage. Ideally, they’d want to show everything there, but that wasn’t possible—the preparation wasn’t fully done yet. The highlight section still needed polishing. Still, at this pace, they could probably be fully ready by the main stage.
“We’re doing the stage direction as we discussed, right?”
“Yeah. We can’t go overboard with effects on the mid-stage.”
“True.”
Sohyang nodded in understanding. Forcing excessive production would only backfire. So Hajun had decided to leave everything to her.
“The props we mentioned should be enough.”
“I’ll prepare the outfits I showed you last time.”
“Yeah, those are good.”
They continued to discuss stage direction and lock in the concept. The AR recording was completely finished. Now they were practicing the choreography to match the recording.
“Ah, by the way—Teacher Hanna said to tell you the song is amazing.”
“Yeah? Good.”
He had no idea what kind of person this Hanna was, but he was grateful. Thanks to her well-crafted choreography, they were able to bring the envisioned stage to life.
“…And thank you.”
“For what?”
“For helping me like this.”
“It’s not like I’m doing it for free. You’re paying me.”
“Still.”
“Save the thanks for after the performance. And while you’re at it, buy me and my sister a meal.”
“Of course! Just say what you want to eat—I’ll buy everything!”
She was a fairly popular idol. He could probably aim high without guilt. The sudden prospect of a meal with Sohyang made Suyeon happy.
Watching that, he started practice again. There were only five days until the mid-stage. The one and only mid-check. It wouldn’t be perfect, but they had to do everything they could.
After finishing practice for the day, they headed home. Sohyang said she was going to practice again with Hanna. He couldn’t help but be impressed.
“I want to do a stage like that too,” Suyeon mumbled when they got home.
He nodded. Just as he wanted, she was finally developing ambition. Helping Sohyang had been the right call.
“Don’t worry. In three months, you’ll be on stage.”
“You mean the festival stage?”
“Yeah.”
“Then there’ll be a ton of people watching.”
“It’s Seolwon’s biggest festival. Of course. And entertainment company scouts always come too.”
“Really? Then I could debut?”
“Of course.”
At his answer, Suyeon’s eyes sparkled.
The song for her was slow in progress, but coming along steadily. It was a very difficult song, so it was taking a long time. Even when she liked a melody, he often scrapped it because he didn’t think it was good enough.
Daytime with Sohyang, nighttime with Suyeon.
And before he knew it, the day of the mid-stage arrived.
Outside attendees were forbidden, so he couldn’t bring Suyeon.
“So today we’re just using an empty chair again?”
“I have to watch the stage.”
“True.”
After all, he was the stage director. Of course he had to check everything himself—lights especially. He had to write down exactly when each light should turn on and where it should point, then submit it to the lighting director during the final rehearsal.
“Got it.”
Sohyang nodded and looked around. Han Goyo should be arriving soon. The mid-stage ran in the exact order of the real performance.
First was Han Goyo. Then Sohyang. Only after the two opening acts did the seniors’ graduation stages begin.
After a short wait, they spotted Han Goyo in comfortable clothes. He considered speaking to her but shook his head. She was about to perform—he could talk after. And they were allowed two mid-stage runs anyway.
Soon, the mid-stage began.
Han Goyo stepped onto the stage. Even in simple clothes, her signature aura was still there.
She looked like she might shatter. Fragile. Not mysterious—dangerously delicate, like broken glass.
He crossed his legs, propped his chin on his hand, and stared.
The music started.
Han Goyo’s stage was the same song he remembered from his past life. A ballad that maximized her strengths.
A song about sending away someone you love, and the loneliness that follows.
The song itself was solid, but what was truly astonishing was Han Goyo.
She hit the high notes with power while still delivering every ounce of sorrow. He could feel his own emotions being pulled along. He frowned slightly.
Sohyang was already on the verge of tears.
And then Han Goyo’s stage ended.
He smiled.
Such a Han Goyo-like performance.
But that didn’t make him feel inferior. The stage he and Sohyang prepared had a completely different kind of charm.
“Then… I’ll go,” Sohyang said to him.
§
The stage filled with a sticky, sultry sound.
Han Goyo looked up at the stage. There stood the first-year girl who would share the opening stage with her.
What was her name again?
She remembered hearing she was an idol.
“Did Jin Sohyang always do this kind of stage?”
Yoo Sung-eun, who was standing next to her preparing for the performance, muttered. Han Goyo nodded.
Ah—Jin Sohyang. Right, that was the name.
The stage Sohyang prepared focused more on performance and dance than vocals.
That didn’t mean the singing was lacking, though.
“…It sounds like ‘Rough.’ Was ‘Rough’ always like this?”
Yoo Sung-eun frowned in confusion.
Rough, huh. Now that Han Goyo thought about it, she’d sung that song too. It didn’t leave much of an impression. Even though it was arranged into a ballad, it still didn’t move her.
But the song playing right now… felt different.
There was something strange about it.
Kang Seonghun’s version of “Rough,” when he arranged it into a ballad, still retained the original charm. It shifted from sweet love to aching love, but it didn’t go as far as being called a “destruction” of the song.
But this version?
This was basically original-song murder.
The core melody and lyrics were the same—but who would hear this and think “Rough”?
Even Han Goyo hadn’t recognized it until Yoo Sung-eun said the title out loud. And she wasn’t the only one—other third-years preparing backstage were staring at the stage in shock.
Was that really the same Jin Sohyang?
The image didn’t match at all.
That’s how drastic the transformation was.
Still, for Han Goyo, who didn’t know Jin Sohyang well, she just thought, So that’s the kind of person Jin Sohyang is.
However… she was curious.
Who arranged this?
“So dirty,” Yoo Sung-eun muttered. “Even if she’s an idol, using the company’s power is too much.”
Han Goyo nodded. If a pro helped, that explained the quality.
“Huh?”
Just then, Han Goyo let out a small sound. While scanning near the stage, she spotted someone extremely familiar.
His eyes were sharp—not the usual sleepy look he always had. And those eyes were very familiar to her.
Because once, he had looked at her with those exact eyes while observing her.
Yoon Hajun.
Why was he there?
Didn’t he say he was preparing a stage with his sister? Why would he be here during vacation? Unless… was that girl his sister?
No, that didn’t make sense.
It didn’t add up.
Her chest felt strange. Tight. Not just uncomfortable—wrong.
Why was she feeling this way?
Han Goyo thought for a moment, then walked toward him.
Meanwhile, Sohyang’s stage ended.
Hajun nodded in satisfaction. There were still some rough parts, but for a mid-stage, this was incredibly good.
They could fix the weak spots during the second run.
While he was thinking that, Han Goyo quietly approached him.
“Why are you here?” she asked abruptly.
Hajun wasn’t particularly surprised. He knew better than anyone how straightforward she was.
“Ah, I ended up helping out.”
“Helping who?”
“Sohyang.”
“…Hmm.”
“I watched your stage too. It was good.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Normally, his compliment would make her happy—but she felt nothing.
Whether he noticed or not, Hajun smiled lightly.
“But just so you know, we’re not going down easy either.”
We.
At that word, Han Goyo finally understood the emotion swirling inside her.
She did not like this.
Not at all.
Han Goyo turned back toward the stage.
Up there, Jin Sohyang was catching her breath, looking at Hajun.
Hajun nodded at her.
Sohyang smiled brightly.
Jin Sohyang. Jin Sohyang.
A name she hadn’t cared about just a little while ago.
But now, she committed it to memory.