78 – Like Brother, Like Sister (2)
78 – Like Brother, Like Sister (2)
78.
When Lee Jiyoon said the name Jeong Jinhoo, Yoon Hajun frowned. It sounded extremely familiar.
Where had he heard that name?
“Jeong Jinhoo, Jeong Jinhoo…”
“Ah. Just the name isn’t enough for you to recognize him. He’s my nephew. He’s enrolling at Seolwon Arts High this year.”
“Your nephew?”
“Yeah.”
So she was asking him to make her nephew lose?
Hajun grew even more confused and looked at Lee Jiyoon again. Were they on bad terms? Some personal grudge?
But Lee Jiyoon’s expression was too dark for that. If anything, it looked like guilt. And she’d hesitated so much before bringing it up.
There had to be a reason.
“Can I hear the reason?”
“Uh… yes. Sure. Where should I start? First—do you know Suyeon was admitted as second place?”
“Yes, I know.”
Suyeon had said it proudly, but Hajun couldn’t understand it.
Suyeon wasn’t first? She was second?
Were the examiners suddenly blind?
But that couldn’t be it. These were Seolwon Arts High teachers—people renowned in the industry. There was no way they couldn’t recognize Suyeon’s talent.
Which meant there was a kid even more talented than Suyeon.
“Is Jeong Jinhoo the first-place admit?”
At Hajun’s question, Lee Jiyoon nodded.
Hajun nodded back like he’d expected it. Right. Lee Jiyoon hadn’t brought this up for no reason.
Jeong Jinhoo…
If he beat Suyeon and took first place, then he was a serious talent monster.
Was there a kid like that among this year’s first-years?
He tried to squeeze his memory, but no name came up. It wasn’t like Hajun knew every student at Seolwon Arts High, and there was no way he’d remember their rankings unless they became famous alumni.
And if there was a famous person from this year’s first-year class—
“…Jinhoo?”
Hajun murmured.
Wait. Was Jeong Jinhoo that Jinhoo?
Jinhoo. MM Entertainment’s “royal line”—a core member alongside Jin Soohyuk.
If Jeong Jinhoo was that Jinhoo, then Suyeon being second place made sense.
“Jinhoo took after me, I guess—he’s liked singing since he was little. He watched all my performances. Then, when he was six, I recommended him to a vocal trainer and he started training. But his talent was insane. Great tone, great volume, but more than anything—his ability to digest songs is ridiculous. I’m not saying this just because he’s my nephew. He’s seriously a genius.”
Like she’d never been worried at all, Lee Jiyoon started bragging enthusiastically.
Hajun listened and nodded along.
Yeah. It really did sound like that Jinhoo. Jinhoo had always said he’d been trained professionally from a very young age.
Huh. His surname was Jeong.
Hajun hadn’t known that. Since he went by “Jinhoo,” Hajun had assumed his surname was Jin and his given name was a single character.
Half-listening, Hajun nodded along as Lee Jiyoon kept going.
She’s completely gone full doting-aunt mode. I should never be like that.
“On top of that, he’s pretty good-looking too, so he started getting trainee offers when he was nine. But my sister said absolutely not, so he couldn’t go. Anyway, it’s not like that talent disappeared, and he kept training with pro vocal trainers, so his skill improved by leaps and bounds.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it?”
“Right.”
As if she’d never been bragging, Lee Jiyoon let out a sigh.
Hajun took a sip of his coffee and looked at her.
He could roughly guess why she was asking this. Jeong Jinhoo was probably extremely arrogant right now.
A famous girl-group idol aunt. Pro training since childhood. Outstanding talent on top of it.
It wouldn’t be strange if he believed he was the best and got full of himself.
And Jinhoo’s personality was arrogant to begin with—he had a strong tendency to take shots at people.
Hajun had only met him once, but he’d heard stories about Jinhoo taking digs at Kim Taeyoung in interviews or talking behind his back.
Not that Jinhoo was uniquely awful. More like standard-issue talent-monster personality. Plenty of kids at Seolwon Arts High were like that.
Anyway.
“So you want his head cracked.”
“His head…?”
“I mean you want him to learn that his ‘I’m the best’ mindset is wrong.”
At Hajun’s words, Lee Jiyoon nodded. Then she gave an awkward smile and continued.
“I know it must sound strange for me to ask this, but please. Jinhoo’s condition isn’t good right now. If he disrespects me, fine. But he watches singers on TV and calls them trash, says that if he debuts for real he can beat everyone, says idols are lower-tier… when he talks like that, whew. Before he causes a real disaster, I think he needs to face reality.”
Hajun drew in a breath.
He agreed Jinhoo was talented.
But was Jinhoo the best talent at Seolwon Arts High?
Absolutely not. Han Goyo was there, and even Kim Taeyoung was above him.
“Wouldn’t it be fine even if you don’t ask me? Once he’s at school, he’ll see Goyo or other kids on stage and realize where he stands.”
At the name “Goyo,” Lee Jiyoon’s expression twisted for a moment—because of what had happened with Goyo before. But she quickly pushed it down and shook her head.
“Not with the Jinhoo I know. He’ll run away with excuses. He’ll say, ‘They’re second-years,’ or ‘They’re older than me,’ and rationalize the loss like that.”
“Then it’s the same even if I beat him.”
“That’s exactly why I’m asking. You said this, didn’t you? That once Suyeon enrolls, you’ll keep helping her.”
“Yes.”
“So can you help Suyeon quietly, without making it obvious, so she can beat Jinhoo?”
It wasn’t a difficult request.
Hajun hadn’t planned to “obviously” help Suyeon inside school anyway. If he did, Suyeon could get branded as someone who only kept her grades up because her brother helped her.
That couldn’t happen.
So Hajun wasn’t going to help Suyeon at school. Giving her songs and practicing with her—he’d do all that after school, when other students weren’t watching.
“It’s not hard.”
“Then I’ll leave it to you.”
“But are you sure that’s okay?”
At Hajun’s sudden question, Lee Jiyoon looked at him.
What did he mean?
At her gaze, Hajun gave a small laugh.
“I’m just wondering if your nephew might end up feeling despair.”
“Uh… um.”
She wanted to say that was nonsense, but the words didn’t come out.
Of course, the nephew she knew wasn’t the type to collapse from one defeat. He wasn’t the type to change either. She didn’t expect that arrogant personality to change at all.
She only wanted him to accept the reality that there were people better than him.
And if she was being honest, Lee Jiyoon didn’t think her nephew was less talented than Yoon Suyeon. She didn’t think he was better either, but having taught both of them, she thought they were similar.
But Suyeon had Yoon Hajun.
Someone who could amplify Suyeon’s talent tenfold, twentyfold.
That was why she’d asked Hajun.
Lee Jiyoon looked at him.
He looked the same as always. Those languid eyes. The shaggy hair that used to look stifling was cut short now, leaving him neat.
And yet, for some reason, she felt uneasy.
After a brief hesitation, Lee Jiyoon said carefully, “Please go easy.”
“I’ll try.”
Hajun smiled.
§ § §
Spring break ended and March arrived. The new school year was starting.
In the meantime, Hajun moved around like crazy. He uploaded the last track, “I AM BAD,” to the Drop Pop channel, and he produced the songs Suyeon would sing for the school event.
And he was in meetings with MM Entertainment about something.
Anyway, he became a second-year again, and once again he was placed in Class 8—the even-numbered class.
“You’re on a scholarship and you’re still in an even-numbered class?”
“You seriously asking because you don’t know?”
Honestly, Hajun had hoped he might land in an odd-numbered class this time. But no chance. His written exam score was too disastrous.
“What about you? You said you got a scholarship too.”
“You seriously asking because you don’t know?”
“Tch.”
So they were the same.
Hajun clicked his tongue and scanned the room. A few kids had changed, but nothing major.
The only thing was, the kids who’d changed looked grim. Which was expected—dropping from the honors class to the lower class would do that.
The most noticeable thing was the empty seat.
You might think some delinquent was late on the first day, but that seat was Jin Sohyang’s. Jin Sohyang was currently the idol with the hottest stock, so she could skip the first day with confidence.
“Come to think of it, your sister’s doing the entrance ceremony right now.”
“Why do you care about Suyeon? Don’t tell me you like her.”
“What the hell are you talking about, you psycho. I told you before—I like older women.”
“So you’re saying Suyeon isn’t your type?!”
“…Are you actually insane?”
Kim Taeyoung stared at Hajun like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Hajun laughed, shoulders shaking. He’d always thought it—this guy was fun to tease.
“Suyeon’s in an odd-numbered class, they said. That’s my sister for you.”
“If she’s your sister, shouldn’t she be in an even-numbered class?”
“No. Suyeon’s better than me.”
“Ah, yes. Of course she is.”
Kim Taeyoung sighed and nodded.
When it came to making songs or prepping a stage, Hajun was terrifyingly meticulous—but the moment it was about his sister, he turned into an idiot. There was no bigger sister-idiot than him.
“Goyo’s still in an odd-numbered class too. Nothing really changed.”
“Right. And since the classes themselves don’t change much, it’s the easiest.”
“You talk like you’ve lived it.”
Because he had.
But he couldn’t say that outright.
“I heard it from Senior Seo Chaerim.”
“Ah, that nuna?”
“Huh? You know Senior Seo Chaerim?”
“Yeah. She asked me to go to a café, so I followed her all excited, and then she asked if I was interested in some weird entertainment company. Damn it. She should’ve just asked if I knew about ‘the Way.’ Does she have to play with people’s hearts like that?”
…That was an extremely Seo Chaerim episode.
Thinking that, Hajun looked out the window.
Was Suyeon doing well at the entrance ceremony right now?
While Hajun was thinking that, Yoon Suyeon was scanning the auditorium where the entrance ceremony was being held.
“It’s huge.”
She’d heard about it from her brother, and she’d even come here once before for festival practice, but it still hit her again.
This was really a high school?
It felt two or three times bigger than her middle school.
Practice rooms, studio recording rooms, performance rooms… he said there were things like that too, right?
And getting professional classes with all of that, and being able to do self-practice if students wanted—
It made her excited.
“The school’s really big, right?”
Yeonji, a friend who’d also been accepted into Seolwon Arts High, said it to Suyeon.
Suyeon nodded.
Im Yeonji watched her.
Yeonji was currently an idol trainee at a fairly well-known entertainment company. And from Yeonji’s perspective, Suyeon was incredible.
Whether they went to karaoke together or Suyeon hummed to herself, Yeonji always ended up awed by Suyeon’s overwhelming tone—something only Suyeon had.
And more than that, the songs Suyeon said her brother made for her were really good.
“Your brother said he’s a second-year, right?” Yeonji asked carefully.
Suyeon was usually cute and kind, but there was one time she got scary—when it involved her brother.
More specifically, when it was about her brother’s songs.
Once, Yeonji had joked, If I debut, I should ask your brother to make me a song too, and Suyeon had gone stone-faced and replied, “Why you?”
That time was scary.
Since then, Yeonji had been extremely careful whenever she talked about Suyeon’s brother.
At Yeonji’s question, Suyeon nodded. “Yeah. Second-year, Class 8, I think. Probably.”
“Even-numbered class.”
“I swear our school has no eye for talent. How is my brother in Class 8? He even gets a scholarship.”
“…Haha.”
At Suyeon’s slightly rough tone, Yeonji gave a bitter smile.
Why did I even bring it up? I shouldn’t have asked.
Just as Suyeon looked like she was about to complain more, the entrance ceremony began. At the voice announcing the ceremony, Suyeon shut her mouth, and Yeonji sighed in relief.
Like every entrance ceremony, Seolwon Arts High’s was painfully boring. How great the school was, how students should have pride as members of such a prestigious institution—
Useless talk like that.
And then it was time for the freshman representative’s entrance oath.
“Next, we will have the freshman representative’s entrance oath.”
At the voice from the podium, one student stood and headed up.
Suyeon looked at the boy.
A face that was… not bad.
She’d only learned his name just now.
Jeong Jinhoo.
The one who took first place over her.
Suyeon straightened her posture and stared at the boy’s arrogant, chin-up stance.
I don’t like him.
The one who beat her and stole first place.
She didn’t like him.
If it were Han Goyo, would she have lost first place to that guy?
No. Absolutely not.
Suyeon was sure of that.
She planned to take the top spot back no matter what. She had no intention of settling for second.
If she couldn’t even take first among the first-years, how was she supposed to assert her existence among singers with truly outstanding talent?
Suyeon clenched her fist.