93 – Two Geniuses with Strong Pride (10)
93 – Two Geniuses with Strong Pride (10)
“How’s practice going? Going well?”
“Huh?”
Class had ended, and it was break time. Yoon Suyeon was getting ready for the next class when Im Yeonji asked the question out of nowhere. Suyeon pulled out her textbook, then looked up at her.
“Practice?”
“For the freshman concert prep. You’re going to decide who’s better than Choi Jinho there.”
“Decide who’s better, my ass.”
Yoon Suyeon answered like it was ridiculous. Im Yeonji blinked.
Huh. Is she really just going to let it slide? Or is she trying to act nice? No way. Suyeon would never do that. There’s no way she’d let it go after someone trashed her brother.
As Im Yeonji was thinking that, Yoon Suyeon added, “I sing way better, so how would we ‘decide who’s better’? I’m just letting him know reality.”
Im Yeonji muttered, “Yep, figures,” and nodded.
Right. Suyeon was never going to let that slide.
When it came to singing skill and her brother, she was more serious than anyone.
“So how’s the practice going—for letting him know reality?”
“Well… kind of.”
“And the song? Your brother’s making it, right?”
“Of course.”
“Nice.”
Yoon Suyeon lightly furrowed her brow and stared at her.
“What’s ‘nice’ about that?”
“No, because you’re doing well. Someone picked a fight with my friend, so I want to cheer you on.”
Im Yeonji answered quickly under Suyeon’s suspicious look, then swallowed hard.
She didn’t find out I made a bet over tteokbokki with my friend, right?
“So what kind of song is it this time?”
Worried she might get found out, Im Yeonji changed the subject—though she really was curious.
Im Yeonji had listened to every song Yoon Suyeon had sung so far, and every time, she couldn’t stop marveling. Suyeon’s growth rate was impressive, but even more shocking were the songs Yoon Hajun made. The quality was so high it was hard to believe a high school student made them.
So she’d been looking forward to whether she could get a song later under the excuse of being “the little sister’s friend,” but—
That’s probably impossible.
Yoon Hajun seemed like he only intended to make songs for Yoon Suyeon. He’d even already signed as a professional producer and debuted.
Thinking about that left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Tsk. No—wait. You never know. What if I end up doing a duet with Suyeon later?
Im Yeonji was a trainee at 『CR (Crops)』. Along with 『SS (Stars)』, it was one of the two giants of Korea’s entertainment agencies. And CR’s biggest trait was its very free atmosphere.
So maybe later, if she worked with Suyeon as a duet, she could get a song from Yoon Hajun.
While Im Yeonji was thinking that, Yoon Suyeon scratched the back of her neck. After a moment, she answered honestly.
“I don’t know either.”
“Huh?”
“I mean, I still don’t know what kind of song my brother’s prepared.”
Im Yeonji blinked.
She still didn’t know?
“The freshman concert is only three weeks away.”
“Well, it can’t be helped. He’s busy. But if you look at him working right now, it’ll come out soon.”
And no matter what song her brother prepared, Yoon Suyeon was confident she could sing it perfectly.
Yeah—at least, up to that point, she seriously believed that.
“So? What do you think?”
As he asked, Yoon Hajun yawned widely. Yoon Suyeon tried to figure out what to say, then ended up closing her mouth.
After she got home from school, her brother—looking extremely sleepy—called her over. He said the song was finished, then immediately played it for her.
So now Yoon Hajun was asking what she thought of the song he’d made.
Him asking wasn’t anything new. Whenever he finished a track they were working on, he always played it for her first.
But this was the first time she had absolutely nothing to say.
“So this is the song I’m supposed to sing?”
“Yeah.”
Yoon Hajun nodded and yawned again.
How was she supposed to respond?
If he was asking about quality, of course it was good. Who made it?
Of course it was good.
The problem was that she had to sing it.
Usually, when her brother played her a song, she could picture it in her head—how she’d sing it, what it would look like.
But with this one, she couldn’t imagine it at all.
How was she supposed to sing this? She couldn’t even get a feel for it.
Yoon Suyeon lightly clenched her fist.
It hit her, all over again, just how much she’d been spoiled by Yoon Hajun until now.
Up to this point, Yoon Hajun always made songs for her, tailored to her.
So this time, she told him to make the song he wanted to make—because she was the one who could handle his songs best.
She believed—of course she believed—that even if he made the song he wanted, she could pull it off.
She practiced with Lee Jiyoon for it, and she’d even gotten results, in her own way.
So she’d been confident.
Yeah. She had been.
Until she heard this song.
“If there’s any part that’s hard to sing or difficult, tell me. I’ll revise it.”
“Uh, n-no. It’s fine. I can do it.”
“Yeah?”
At Yoon Suyeon’s answer, Yoon Hajun smiled.
There was no doubt on his face.
Yeah. That expression.
The look Yoon Hajun had when he looked at Yoon Suyeon—the look of someone who believed without question that she was a genius.
At that look, Yoon Suyeon nodded.
“I can do it.”
So she answered again.
Yoon Hajun nodded and continued, “Practice at school. If there’s a hard part, ask anytime.”
“Yeah, got it.”
“Let’s record a week before the freshman concert.”
“Yeah.”
Then I’m going in first to sleep.
After saying that, Yoon Hajun lightly patted Yoon Suyeon’s head and went into his room.
Staring at the firmly closed door, Yoon Suyeon clenched her fist.
She had no intention of asking her brother for help.
She’d leaned on him too much until now.
This time, she had to show she could be dependable.
“This is the song you’re singing at the freshman concert?”
“Yes.”
Lee Jiyoon looked troubled as she listened to the song Yoon Suyeon brought.
This was the song Yoon Hajun made to use at the freshman concert.
In other words, a song made to crush her nephew.
Well… I did ask him to smash him properly, but still.
Isn’t this too much?
What kind of student event gets a song like this?
Thinking she might have made a pointless request, Lee Jiyoon shook her head.
No. If you’re going to do it, it’s better to do it properly.
“It’s incredible.”
Lee Jiyoon said it honestly.
Yeah. It really was incredible.
It made her wonder if there was any genre Yoon Hajun couldn’t do.
The song he prepared was the kind of thing you could call a competition track without exaggeration.
The runtime was exactly 1 minute 58 seconds—perfectly matched to the two-minute limit for an event performance.
“So how should I sing this?”
“Huh?”
“Like you said, I’ve been thinking about how I can sing it more perfectly, but I just can’t picture it at all.”
“Hm.”
Yeah. From Suyeon’s perspective, it made sense that she couldn’t get a feel for it.
For one, it was the first time she’d ever sing a genre like this.
And unlike before, it wasn’t a song built to accommodate what Suyeon could sing well.
No—maybe Suyeon wouldn’t be able to digest it properly.
“First, sing it. After you sing it, if there are parts that are lacking, I’ll tell you then.”
“Yes.”
At Lee Jiyoon’s words, Yoon Suyeon nodded, and they began practicing in earnest.
The track Yoon Hajun prepared had emotions like a roller coaster.
The beginning was extremely bright.
Then the middle turned endlessly gloomy.
Then the end became bright again.
And yet the tempo was the opposite.
When it was bright, the tempo was very slow.
When it was gloomy, the tempo was insanely fast—fast enough that, at a glance, it could even sound exciting.
But the lyrics were nowhere near “exciting.”
Philosophical, maybe.
Whether you should do something.
What talent is.
Why we’re born.
It sang about those things.
So the title was—
“To Live On,” huh.
It really did fit.
Especially for Lee Jiyoon, the final part stood out.
After turning dark, it brightened again, and the lyrics sang a hymn to humanity—that hit hard.
In the practice room, Yoon Suyeon sang.
Watching her, Lee Jiyoon wore a serious expression.
She’d asked Hajun for too much, and Hajun had done his absolute best for that request.
So now it was her turn to step in.
When the freshman concert is over, I should repay Hajun.
With that thought, Lee Jiyoon helped Yoon Suyeon with everything she had—for Suyeon, and for her nephew.
She analyzed the song, and she called Yoon Hajun to ask what he’d been thinking when he made the song, wrote the lyrics, and built each part.
And in doing so, she did everything she could to help Yoon Suyeon sing 『To Live On』 as perfectly as possible.
But that alone wasn’t enough.
Up to now, whenever Yoon Suyeon sang, she sang with certainty.
If I sing this—if I sing it in front of people—they’ll be amazed.
She approached songs with that certainty, and that was why she wanted to get on stage quickly. And when she actually performed, the reaction matched what she expected.
But for this song, for some reason, she didn’t feel certain.
Is it really okay to sing it like this? Will people actually like this?
Those thoughts kept coming.
Facing that unfamiliar anxiety and uncertainty for the first time, Yoon Suyeon kept thinking.
She wanted to ask her brother.
But she couldn’t.
She’d decided she wouldn’t rely on him this time.
So she thought for a long time—
And then she made a decision.
“Whew…”
Yoon Suyeon exhaled and lifted her head.
The number 2 posted on the classroom door felt unfamiliar.
But the 7 next to it didn’t.
“A first-year—what’s up?”
As Yoon Suyeon hesitated in front of the sign that read “2nd Year, Class 7,” a student walked up and asked. He’d probably noticed the color of the name tag on her uniform.
Each grade had a different color.
“Ah, I…”
“Huh? You’re Hajun’s little sister, right?”
At the male student recognizing her, Yoon Suyeon looked startled.
At that expression, he made a complicated look he couldn’t quite explain and said, “I know Hajun. And I’ve seen you at the practical music department concert.”
At that, she checked his name tag.
Kang Seonghun.
Hm. She felt like she’d seen him before, but she couldn’t remember clearly.
Either way, it was lucky she ran into someone who knew her.
Because she could ask for help.
“Ah, hello.”
“So what brings Hajun’s little sister here?”
“Um… I…”
Yoon Suyeon opened her mouth, then closed it. The words wouldn’t come easily.
This wasn’t the time to be stubborn.
She knew that herself, but it still wasn’t easy.
After opening and closing her mouth several times, she finally blurted it out.
“Could you call Goyo for me? I have something to say.”
“Han Goyo?”
“Yes.”
At Yoon Suyeon’s words, Kang Seonghun furrowed his brow.
Yoon Hajun’s little sister came looking for Han Goyo—what was going on?
As he thought that, Kang Seonghun nodded.
“Okay.”
Owing Yoon Hajun’s family a favor was a good thing.
Maybe later, he could get help from it.
And it wasn’t a hard request.
After answering, Kang Seonghun went into the classroom and approached Han Goyo.
“Han Goyo.”
“What?”
When he called her, Han Goyo looked at him with her usual indifferent expression. It had been a year since they’d become classmates, and she was still like this.
Feeling bitter about that, Kang Seonghun sighed.
“Someone’s looking for you.”
“Me? Who?”
“Yoon Hajun’s little sister.”
At the identity of the visitor, Han Goyo’s expression shifted.
Of course.
Was Yoon Hajun the only one who could change her expression?
While Kang Seonghun was thinking that, Han Goyo turned her head toward the classroom door.
Sure enough, Yoon Suyeon’s familiar face was there.
Why is she looking for me?
The moment Han Goyo’s face showed slight surprise, her eyes met Yoon Suyeon’s.
Then Yoon Suyeon dipped her head slightly, wearing a deeply confused expression.
At that look, Han Goyo slowly stood up.