33 – Giant Killing (5)
33 – Giant Killing (5)
<- This is the last free chapter.
33.
“I’ll do it one more time.”
“Ah, yeah. S-sure. Let’s do that. Yeah.”
At Han Goyo’s words, Yoo Sung-eun nodded with a flustered expression.
What was going on? Ever since the mid-stage, Han Goyo felt… different.
Before the mid-stage, Han Goyo had been a very quiet kid. The type to do exactly what she was told. And that alone was more than enough. No—more than enough. It overflowed.
But now, she was passionate to a strange degree. Of course, a singer being passionate was a good thing for a composer too. The problem was, the current Han Goyo didn’t just look passionate.
She looked obsessed with the stage—no, crazed.
There was a madness in her that was almost frightening.
And the real problem was that her skills were noticeably improving because of it.
She had always been insanely good, but now there was an oppressive aura about her. Even though it was just the small performance hall, she completely turned the entire stage into her own.
As if saying: This stage exists only for me.
As if she was performing to show someone.
She was truly unbelievable. Just when you thought she had reached her peak, she showed an even higher peak. The only concern was—would she collapse at this rate?
But at the same time, it was exciting.
If she went on stage in this state, something unreal would come out. Maybe a masterpiece that would never appear again in her lifetime.
With that thought, Yoo Sung-eun clenched her fist.
“I’ll do it again.”
“Ah… yeah.”
Still, it was scary.
§ § §
After the mid-stage, we threw ourselves fully into practice. There wasn’t much time left until the Practical Music Concert. In the time we had, we honed everything to make the stage even more perfect.
“Red ribbons will work for props, right?”
“Yeah. Outfits are handled—what about accessories?”
“I don’t think we need rings. Maybe bracelets… and how about a choker?”
“That sounds good.”
From stage outfits—
“For lighting, we start with red, then switch to purple.”
“What about the dance part?”
“Kill all the surrounding lights and put a spotlight only on you.”
“Mhm, that sounds good.”
—to discussions about lighting—
“The wind machine starts in the middle, right?”
“Yeah. In the beginning I’ll be up top, so we’ll use me. From the middle to the end, we’ll use the wind machine.”
“Okay.”
—to props for stage effects—
“At the beginning, someone sits in the chair, and at the end, it’s an empty chair, right?”
“Yeah. At the end, it’s like thinking about the one who left because of obsession. But don’t make it sound like longing or sorrow.”
“I know. It’s like—‘he’s still here, because I believe so.’”
“Exactly.”
—all the way to the stage concept.
We kept talking. At this point, even if we wanted to change something, we couldn’t. These were choices we couldn’t take back.
So Jin Sohyang and I kept refining it. In the mornings we met in person, and at night we talked through KakaoTalk.
“What about makeup?”
“I’m going to go pretty heavy. Especially the lips—I’m thinking gradient. Not super dark, just a shade that feels like blood—148 Libere.”
148 Libere? After that, Sohyang kept saying words I couldn’t understand. What is this, a code? Whatever. Better to stay quiet.
“For the highlight, I still think lying down on the floor is best.”
“Yeah, me too. We’re filming with a camera and showing it on the main screen anyway.”
“Right. And when I do skinship with you while you’re in the chair, I’ll get even closer.”
“Okay. I don’t mind.”
As long as it’s for a better stage, anything on stage was fine.
“Only one week left. Let’s go hard.”
“Yeah!”
Sohyang nodded with energy.
§
“Uuuugh!!”
Stretching, Sohyang let out a bizarre scream and then sighed. Lying down on the stage and writhing around made her feel like her body was cramping.
“I think powerful choreography might’ve actually been easier.”
Muttering that, she watched the footage of her stage recorded on camera.
The “Rough” stage was extremely slow overall. She moved widely across the stage, but the actual movements were minimal.
Choreography where she slowly moved her body in waves. Doing that for the entire stage made her whole body sore. Teacher Hanna said the dance was inspired by a snake, and it definitely felt that way.
After watching, Sohyang closed the video. She wanted to rest, even just a little.
Just a moment ago, she’d been in a meeting with Yoon Hajun about the stage.
“Ugh-cha.”
She threw herself onto the bed and lay there. The soft mattress hugged her exhausted body.
In that position, she put in her earphones and opened her favorite music streaming site on her phone.
Then she clicked on her favorite singer’s page.
Still not uploaded.
Not that she expected a new upload, but seeing nothing still made her disappointed. Humans were so fickle.
Thinking that, she played the most recently uploaded song.
A moist, deeply emotional voice. The song sung in that voice was an achingly sorrowful ballad. But it wasn’t a song where the emotions violently exploded.
It was a song that pretended to stay calm.
And maybe because of that, it felt even sadder.
“…It’s so good.”
Just listening made her happy. Listening to this song was one of Sohyang’s few healing times.
Only three songs had been uploaded so far, but the quality of each one was insane.
After listening, Sohyang left her usual comment today as well.
[Every time I listen I want to file a report… report you for moving into my heart.]
The site Sohyang often used—Cloud.
There, she used the username [ssomssom].
§ § §
“I should go around nine, right?”
“Yeah.”
I nodded at Suyeon’s words. Today was finally the Practical Music Concert. Suyeon was going to Lake Park to see what the graduating class of Seolwon Arts High had prepared.
Of course, I would be her guide. But we couldn’t go together to the park. In the morning, I had rehearsals with Sohyang.
The rehearsals were closed rehearsals, so each person had to go on stage alone. Naturally, it took time. The only good thing was that our slot was early, so we’d finish quickly.
The small problem was that “early” meant dawn.
“I’ll contact you when rehearsal’s done.”
“Okay. Ah, then will I be able to walk around with Sohyang unnie?”
“No. That’ll be hard.”
After rehearsal, Sohyang had to rush straight to the salon. On top of that, she had to pick up sponsored outfits. She’d be busy with prep until she went on stage.
“That’s too bad.”
“Can’t be helped. But you’ll get to see someone else.”
“Your friend? Who?”
“Kim Taeyoung. There’s this—kind of dumb guy.”
“Mmkay.”
Suyeon didn’t seem interested.
“Then I’m heading out.”
“Yeah. See you later.”
I said goodbye to Suyeon and left the house. Maybe because it was summer, but even at dawn it was hot and humid. Sticky and gross.
“So damn hot.”
Grumbling, I bought an ice cream from the convenience store and headed to Lake Park, where the concert would be held.
From early morning, the park was full of Seolwon students.
It wasn’t just the Practical Music concert at Lake Park. The art department’s graduation works were on display, and the entertainment department’s graduation videos were screened.
Yesterday was the Korean traditional music and practical departments’ stages. Today was the Practical Music concert. Tomorrow would be the classical department’s stage.
On the way to the hall where the concert would take place, I looked around the park. Various works were installed—from large sculptures to other art pieces.
And to set everything up, students were sweating since dawn. Watching them work, I eventually arrived at the hall.
“You’re here?”
When I reached the waiting room, Sohyang greeted me. I nodded and sat down. Maybe because I hadn’t slept much, I was a bit tired.
Anything to drink? I looked around and saw coffee on the table.
“What’s this?”
“The older members brought it. Ah, if you want one, go ahead.”
“Then I’ll have a coffee.”
I grabbed an Americano and drank it. It was lukewarm and gross, but the bitter water still woke me up a little.
“Where’s Han Goyo?”
The waiting room wasn’t just ours. Since we were both opening acts, Han Goyo and Sohyang shared it. But I didn’t see Han Goyo anywhere.
“S-she’s rehearsing.”
“Already?”
“Yeah.”
She must’ve been late because she’d been walking around the park. Whew. Good thing. If she were any later, it would’ve been bad.
As I was talking with Sohyang, the rehearsal must have ended—Han Goyo walked in with a woman I’d never seen before.
Ah, is that the composer?
A Seolwon alum?
Han Goyo was drenched in sweat, probably from an intense rehearsal. She looked at me for a moment, then turned and stared at Sohyang.
But something was different.
Her usual indifferent gaze was gone. Instead, her eyes were sharp.
There was a strange intensity in Han Goyo’s stare that made Sohyang blink.
Facing her, Han Goyo spoke.
“Rehearsal.”
“Ah.”
Looks like it’s our turn.
I nodded and got up, then headed to the stage. It was a shame we couldn’t rehearse in a fully prepared state, but it couldn’t be helped.
I sat in the pre-set chair and loosely tied the rope around my body. Since I had to watch the rehearsal, I didn’t wear the blindfold.
We began the rehearsal like that.
The choreography was already perfect. What I focused on were the lighting timing and the wind machine timing.
“Ah, lower the light just a little. Yes.”
“The wind machine is fine at that level.”
“Yes, please do it like that.”
“No, for the purple light, brush it through like this—whoosh, fast.”
“Don’t make it flicker. Just keep it steady.”
I kept giving directions to the staff, handing the directors my notes with all the timings written down.
I couldn’t allow a single mistake.
And as expected of experienced staff, they took my instructions precisely.
After several runs, the stage was ready to a satisfying level.
“Yes, make sure to pull the chair out at exactly that timing. You must.”
And the most important thing—the chair.
I emphasized it to the staff multiple times. I only sat in the chair in the beginning. From the middle onward, it had to be an empty chair.
The stage staff in charge nodded at my words.
Only after we checked every last detail did we finish the rehearsal.
After repeating the rehearsal so many times and dancing nonstop, Jin Sohyang was drenched in sweat.
“Ugh, this feels so gross.”
She wiped her sweat as she spoke.
Feeling a bit sorry for her, I asked, “Do you have somewhere to wash up?”
“I have to stop by the dorm anyway, so it’s fine. I’m gonna wash, then swing by the costume room, then head straight to the salon.”
“Okay. Do well.”
“Yep! See you later!”
With that, Jin Sohyang ran off. I watched her go, then stretched.
After that, I took out my phone.
Exactly nine.
Suyeon should be arriving soon.
I messaged Suyeon and headed to the park entrance where we agreed to meet.
After waiting a bit, Suyeon arrived.
“How do I look?”
Unlike usual, Suyeon was dressed up. I told her she looked cute, then we started looking around the park together.
“They really go big with this festival.”
“It’s not a festival. It’s the seniors’ graduation stage. The actual festival is in October.”
“Huh. They make a graduation stage this big?”
“Yeah. A lot of industry people come to Seolwon Arts High’s graduation stage.”
“So do entertainment company scouts or singers come to the concert?”
“They do.”
They were even specially invited.
As we chatted, we looked at the art exhibits and watched the videos prepared by the entertainment department.
The videos were short films. Out of all of them, Suyeon said she wanted to watch the one featuring a student who was already working as an actor.
“That’s so weird.”
“What is?”
“It means we’re going to the same school as people I only saw on TV.”
“I mean, yeah.”
For now, in first year, there was only Jin Sohyang, but there were also trainees about to debut, and a fair number of second- and third-years had already debuted too.
After the film, we stepped outside.
Then Taeyoung contacted me.
I told him where Suyeon and I were, and he said he’d come—then he ran over at an insane speed.
“Long time no see, man.”
“Yeah.”
I gave a casual nod at Taeyoung’s friendly greeting.
Suyeon bowed politely to him.
“Hello.”
“Oh, you’re Hajun’s little sister?”
“Yes, I’m Yoon Suyeon.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Kim Taeyoung.”
They exchanged quick greetings, then both looked at me. They clearly weren’t very interested in each other.
“I heard you’re helping with Jin Sohyang’s stage?”
“Yeah, that’s how it ended up. What about you—how’s your practice going?”
At my question, Taeyoung’s face twisted.
Then with a deep sigh—
“I’m dying. Why is that senior so intense? Seriously, she’s the toughest person I’ve ever worked with. No joke, even during the competition it wasn’t this brutal!”
He vented his frustration.
Senior Won Seongmin is intense? Really? To me, he was endlessly kind when teaching.
“Ah, forget it. Let’s talk over food.”
“You’re paying, right?”
“Yeah yeah. Since it was thanks to you I got this job, I’ll pay.”
It was a joke, but Taeyoung nodded. Rich kid, huh? At least he was refreshingly straightforward about it.
Suyeon said she wanted pasta, so we headed to a nearby restaurant.
After ordering pizza and pasta and planning the rest of the day, Taeyoung said, “Oh yeah. Did Goyo call you?”
“Goyo? No, she didn’t.”
“Really? Weird. Why did she call me then?”
“What did she say?”
“She suddenly called and asked me what I thought she was lacking.”
“?”
I didn’t get it. Something Goyo is lacking? That doesn’t exist. On stage, she’s perfect—better than many working singers.
“So what did you say?”
“I said she lacks passion.”
“…That… sounds exactly like you.”
“What, what else was I supposed to say?”
Fair. It’s hard to find anything Goyo lacks.
We kept talking as we finished eating. Then we walked around the park together, and before we knew it, it was past four.
“I’d better get going.”
“Because of the stage?”
“Yeah.”
“What about you, Suyeon?”
“Mm, I’ll stay at a café and go in when it’s time.”
“And you, Taeyoung?”
“Oh, I’m meeting Kang Seonghun.”
“Kang Seonghun?”
“Yeah. His younger sibling said they’re my fan. So I’m gonna say hi for a bit. Then we’ll probably watch together.”
“Got it.”
After wrapping up, I headed straight to the hall.
When I reached the waiting room, fully-prepped Jin Sohyang greeted me.
Unlike her usual comfy clothes, she was dressed up glamorously—and she looked stunning. As expected, she wasn’t just any idol. She was already pretty in casual clothes, but when she went all out, it was ridiculous.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
The main point of her outfit was the red ropes wrapped all over her body. Add to that the handcuff-shaped bracelet and the choker on her neck—like she was binding herself.
And finishing it off was the red lipstick on her lips. A bloody red, smudged just enough to look intentional.
“Good. Just like I imagined.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Sohyang let out a sigh of relief.
I checked my phone.
4:30 p.m.
The first stage—Han Goyo’s stage—started at five.
Goyo should be getting ready right now.
I wanted to watch her performance in person, but that was impossible. I had to support Sohyang.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t watch it at all. There was a small TV installed in the waiting room. The cameras filming for the big screen also streamed to that TV.
“…Whew, I’m nervous.”
“Everyone is before going on stage.”
“Hajun, have you ever performed on stage?”
“Yeah.”
I nodded casually.
It wasn’t a stage where I was the star—but a stage built to make someone else shine. I’d stood on a few of those. Even thinking about it now, it wasn’t pleasant.
That was also why I helped Sohyang more than necessary.
I didn’t want her stage to be used as a prop to make Han Goyo shine. I wanted it to be her stage, too.
I was projecting my past self onto her.
Who was pitying who?
Even I found it ridiculous.
“Oh, it’s starting.”
MC Lee Hwayeol stepped onto the stage. The Practical Music Concert was officially beginning. She warmed up the atmosphere with a bit of chatter, then introduced the first performance.
“The first stage is a first-year performance to congratulate the third-years! From Class 7 of the Practical Music Department, student Han Goyo!”
Lee Hwayeol stepped down. Crossing paths, Han Goyo stepped onto the stage.
I frowned.
She was wearing the same white dress she wore during “Blame.”
The camera focused on her. Goyo looked the same as always—calm, indifferent. Her eyes looked at nothing.
She slowly closed her eyes once.
Then opened them again.
“…?”
And in that moment, her entire aura changed.
What was this? An oppressive presence?
Something was clearly different.
Han Goyo lifted the mic.
At the same time, the melody began.
And in sync with it, Han Goyo opened her mouth.
—Geudaeneun.
Watching that, I made a dumb sound.
“…Ah.”
What the hell is this?