35 – 『Rough』(1)
35 – 『Rough』(1)
35.
“...Haa, haa.”
Jin Sohyang exhaled heavily as she looked out at the audience. Her head was pounding, and she couldn’t clearly remember what kind of stage she’d just performed.
Did I do well? Did I mess up anywhere? I feel like I did everything I was supposed to… but I’m anxious. How did people see my stage?
She wanted to ask.
Just then, somewhere in the crowd, someone started clapping. At the sound, Jin Sohyang turned her head.
Yoon Hajun was leaning against the wall, clapping for her.
You did well.
He mouthed the words without a sound. Relief began to wash over Sohyang, and then applause erupted from all around.
The disguised members of Hwayangyeonhwa, the company president who’d come with them, Hanna unni, her parents… even her fans who’d come to see her stage were applauding her.
The applause grew louder and louder, as if it were contagious.
“YOU WERE AMAZING!! OUR MAKNAE!!”
A loud voice rang out, and a smile formed on Jin Sohyang’s lips. It was Harin.
The lights were off. The stage was dark. It was the same moment she’d experienced countless times, right after a performance, so why did it feel so different now?
The applause she’d heard hundreds, thousands of times before felt different. Her heart felt like it was going to burst. She felt like she might cry.
Her hands trembled as she gripped the ribbon. Unlike before, it wasn’t from nerves. It was from excitement—the lingering exhilaration only a stage could give.
“…This isn’t good.”
This stage was supposed to be the one she prepared so she could let go. Instead, greed had sprouted.
She wanted to keep doing stages like this. She wanted to keep standing on stage.
Performing as a member of Hwayangyeonhwa wasn’t bad… but she wanted to stand on stage alone like this.
That thought kept echoing in her mind.
“Um, we have to prepare the next stage now.”
“S-sorry!”
A staff member approached and spoke to her. Startled, Sohyang bowed and quickly stepped off the stage.
Her footsteps felt heavy.
She’d thought that once the stage ended, she’d be able to let everything go and feel relieved, but instead, she was left with lingering attachment.
Jin Sohyang was someone easily influenced by others. She’d never once wanted something purely because she loved it. It was always because it was popular, because it looked fun, because her friends were doing it. She went with the flow, not from her own will.
But now, for the first time, she’d found something she truly wanted on her own.
“Seriously, daebak. Sohyang can do that kind of stage too?”
“She practiced really hard.”
“No, still! I never knew sunny little Sohyang could dance like that!”
“Did you see our maknae’s charisma?”
Hanna and the members of Hwayangyeonhwa buzzed with excitement as they talked about her.
Even to her own members, Jin Sohyang’s stage had been pure shock. They’d always thought of her as adorable, but she’d shown a completely different side.
Harin, the leader, was especially busy checking the camera footage to make sure it was recorded well.
“Did the students prepare all that themselves?”
“I heard one student helped her.”
“He did the arrangement too?”
At that moment, the president of ROC Entertainment—and an active composer—Kwon Suyoung joined the conversation.
Harin nodded at her question. “Yeah. Apparently one student helped with all of it—stage direction and arrangement.”
“Hm. How old?”
“I heard he’s in the same class as her?”
“Heh…”
Kwon Suyoung let out a disbelieving laugh.
So a high school freshman arranged this?
Even as the company president, she’d been shocked by the stage. Who would’ve thought Jin Sohyang had that kind of allure in her? And a first-year had discovered it—and arranged the song like that?
“Do you happen to know that student’s name?”
“Hajin? Jun? Something like that. Sohyang probably knows.”
“Hmmm.”
Kwon Suyoung was the original composer of “Rough.” Even to her, this arrangement was unbelievable.
It wasn’t just bold. If that were all, it wouldn’t have been this shocking.
The way the instruments were used, the way the impact landed, the build-up leading into the explosive highlight—it was too polished to believe a first-year did it.
On top of that, the instrumental choices were incredibly sophisticated. Especially the intentionally “broken” piano sound in the middle. Even Kwon Suyoung had to admire it.
“A first-year… huh.”
She wanted to meet him—not as a company president, but as a composer. She wanted to talk about music, and while she was at it… maybe talk about “Rough.”
Nearby, Yoon Suyeon sat with a bored expression, staring at the stage.
She’d used to think they were good unnies, but suddenly, she didn’t like this.
Of course, the biggest threat was Han Goyo, who’d shown overwhelming dominance. When Suyeon heard that song, she’d even felt anxiety.
Han Goyo was far more incredible than she’d imagined. She’d never dreamed someone with that level of vocal skill would be right next to her brother.
And then Jin Sohyang showed a completely different, yet equally overwhelming stage of her own.
Suyeon hated it.
The only person who could make her a singer was Yoon Hajun, but around him, there were already too many people who could sing well.
What if he stopped paying attention to her like before? What if he only focused on them?
She hated that idea.
Thanks to Yoon Hajun, Yoon Suyeon had finally started dreaming seriously of becoming a singer. She finally had a chance to turn fantasy into reality.
She didn’t want to lose that chance.
And more than anything, she hated the idea of losing the songs her brother made just for her to someone else.
She had to practice. She had to sing even better. At the very least, she had to be able to sing as well as Han Goyo unni.
Yoon Suyeon pulled out her phone and checked her calendar. The festival was in three months.
This won’t do.
The thought hit her hard.
“How was my stage?”
“You didn’t hear all the applause?”
“Still. I want to hear the composer’s opinion.”
Now that the stage was over and the tension had drained away, Jin Sohyang spoke playfully.
I let out a small chuckle and nodded. “It was good.”
It wasn’t just lip service. Her stage was excellent. She brought to life the stage that had existed only in my head.
And as a result, people weren’t comparing her to Han Goyo. The styles were too different to compare, and that was exactly what I aimed for.
I talked big about defeating Han Goyo, but honestly, I knew better than anyone that it was impossible. I’d worked with her before.
So instead, I prepared a completely different kind of stage—one that couldn’t even be compared.
“Really, thank you.”
“Why thank me? It’s not like I did it for free.”
“Ah! I’ll send the payment right away! And tell me anytime if you want to eat something!”
“You’re okay with me ordering something expensive?”
“Of course! Omakase, Korean beef, steak—just name it!”
…Brutally straightforward. I liked it.
“Alright.”
“Then I’ll get going. The members keep calling me.”
She sounded a little disappointed. I nodded.
“Okay. See you.”
“Yeah, I’ll… contact you.”
I nodded again. Sohyang smiled, waved, and ran off.
Only after confirming she was gone did I collapse into a chair.
“Whew.”
A ringing pain hit my head. Staying up to prepare this stage really destroyed me.
Never again. I was never accepting something like this again. At this rate, I’d drop dead.
Leaning against the wall with that thought, I sensed someone next to me. I cracked one eye open.
“When did you get here?”
Han Goyo was there, still wearing the white dress. She stared at me silently.
“What?”
“Did you watch my stage?”
“I did.”
“How was it?”
How was it?
“Insane.”
In a good way. Honestly, it was unbelievable. If I were Jin Sohyang, I’d have had a mental breakdown and run away.
“Did you want to work with me?”
“I always do.”
Han Goyo looked genuinely surprised.
Why that face? Finding a composer who didn’t want to work with Han Goyo would be harder, especially after a stage like that.
That Yuseongeun or whatever—she was probably doing a victory dance right now. If I were a composer and my singer delivered my song like that, I’d be losing my mind.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“I see.”
She left it at that, then gently rested her head on my shoulder.
“Can I rest for a bit?”
“Huh?”
“I’m tired.”
I didn’t ask, From what? Preparing and performing a stage like that—of course she was exhausted.
So instead of answering, I just nodded.
Han Goyo closed her eyes, and soon fell soundly asleep.
“Seriously…”
On stage, she looked like a monster. Right now, she was just a kid.
Well, she was only seventeen.
I didn’t wake her. I let her rest.
“Ah.”
The day after the Practical Music Concert, I opened my eyes to see it was 7 p.m.
Wait. I came home around 10 p.m. last night, so I slept almost twenty hours?
Guess the fatigue really piled up.
Rubbing my barely opening eyes, I instinctively checked my phone. There were an absurd number of messages.
Good lord. How many was this?
The first one was from Taeyoung.
[I’ll look forward to my song too.]
Instead of replying, I sent him a middle finger emoji.
Next was Han Goyo. She’d sent a shy bunny sticker.
I considered replying, then gave up.
Then came Jin Sohyang. Most of the notifications were from her.
[Thank you so much for today!]
[It was seriously the best stage ever!]
[I hope we can practice together again sometime!]
That was at 10:37 p.m.
[The unnies praised me like crazy!]
[Seriously, thank you thank you!!]
[I got a ton of DMs on Instagram too!]
[(link) Did you see the iTube upload? The stage video went up…]
2:21 a.m.
[Um, Hajun-ssi. This might be a bit sudden, but… our CEO said she wants to meet you?]
And that was 4:09 p.m. today.
Jesus. She really sent a lot.
Yawning hard, I checked the iTube link first.
“Oh.”
Just like she said, the video had been uploaded in insanely high quality. And the view count was crazy—less than a full day, and it was already over 200k. Likes were over 3,000.
Was Sohyang really this popular?
I scrolled through the comments. Most were praise.
“I didn’t know she was THIS kind of idol,”
“She dances insanely well,”
There were tons of compliments about the concept and the vocals, and quite a few people asking them to release this version as a digital single.
After watching it all, I hit Like, then replied to Sohyang.
[Why does your CEO want to meet me?]
Her reply came quickly.
[Because of Rough. I think… she wants to release this version as an official track…]
I blinked.
She wanted to release this version?
I thought for a moment, then replied.
[I’m down anytime]
Well damn. Unexpected side income?
A digital release, huh.
Ah, right. I still needed to work on Addressee Unknown. I’d originally planned to do it during break, but I got delayed because of Sohyang. I’d have to push it back.
I hadn’t even picked a singer yet.
More importantly, it was time to work with Suyeon.
I opened my laptop and played the draft song I’d composed bit by bit while preparing for Sohyang.
Working title: “Come Home (Invitation).”
It captured the exact feeling Suyeon wanted.
As I organized it, I thought through what I needed to do next. First priority was the festival.
Then, recording “Rough,” if it happened. If it did, Kwon Suyoung would probably record it herself. If so, I’d make sure to observe.
She didn’t have a mega-hit yet, but she’d written plenty of solid songs. Starting this year, everything would change. The next Hwayangyeonhwa album—the album called the masterpiece of girl group albums—would drop, and she’d become a top-tier composer.
If I could build that connection early and learn from her skills, I should.
What else did I have to do?
“Ah, Kim Taeyoung’s song.”
When should I make that?
I thought for a moment, then decided to save it for the Winter Festival in November. Making his song for the upcoming festival would be overkill.
After organizing my plans, I stepped out of my room.
In the living room, Suyeon and Mom were having a serious conversation.
“Do you really want to attend?”
“Yeah. I seriously want to.”
At Mom’s question, Suyeon nodded firmly.
Mom sighed, then slowly nodded too.
“Alright. But you have to keep studying hard. Understand?”
“Yeah. I promise.”
“Okay.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
…What was going on? Was Suyeon trying to join some new academy?
While I was thinking that, Suyeon stood up and said to me, “Oppa, I’m going to start attending a vocal training academy.”
“…Huh?”