95 – Two Geniuses with Strong Pride (12)
95 – Two Geniuses with Strong Pride (12)
Mid-May.
The hallway of Seolwon Arts High transformed into something flashy—not because of a practical music department event, but because of the art department’s midterm evaluation.
For the art department midterm, they displayed paintings in the hallway, then separately exhibited the pieces that received the best evaluations. Of course, grades were assessed separately by the teachers. This was only the exhibition.
Anyway, because of that, the hallway was filled with paintings drawn by art department students.
As Yoon Suyeon walked down that hallway, she suddenly stopped in front of one painting and stared at it blankly.
“What’s wrong?”
Im Yeonji, who had been walking with Yoon Suyeon, asked. Yoon Suyeon pointed at the painting she was looking at.
“Doesn’t this painting kind of look like my brother?”
“Your brother?”
“Yeah.”
“Hm.”
Im Yeonji stared hard at the painting, as closely as she could.
So Suyeon thought this looked like her brother?
“…How? In what way?”
Is something wrong with her eyes? No—forget resemblance. There’s no face in the first place.
Right. The painting Yoon Suyeon was looking at had no face. Instead, a black circle that looked like it was smiling took its place. Just looking at it gave her chills. You could say it felt insane.
“The smile, or the standing pose. It’s exactly like my brother.”
“I don’t know. Well, if you say so.”
She’d know better than Im Yeonji, at least.
But what mattered right now wasn’t the painting. It was lunch, which was almost over.
Im Yeonji grabbed Yoon Suyeon’s wrist.
“Look at it later. Let’s eat first.”
“Ah. Yeah, okay.”
Yoon Suyeon nodded and started walking again.
But even as she moved, she kept turning her head to look back at the painting—more precisely, at the name tag posted beneath it.
[Seoah]
After all classes ended, at dismissal time, Yoon Suyeon sat in the practice room and looked at Han Goyo.
Since the day Yoon Suyeon had asked Han Goyo for help, the two of them had started after-school private lessons. Well, to be precise, it was closer to a one-on-one concert than a lesson. Han Goyo sang, and Yoon Suyeon listened and took time to think on her own.
Seriously.
Watching Han Goyo warm up her voice lightly as soon as she arrived, then start singing, Yoon Suyeon scraped her thumbnail with her index fingernail.
She’d felt it when she first heard 『Blame』, but Han Goyo really was absurd.
Of course her vocal skill was strong, but more than that—her persuasive power that shook your emotions, and the way she delivered the emotional line, was insane.
She hadn’t even talked to Hajun after receiving that song.
So how could she sing it that perfectly?
Yoon Suyeon bit down on her lower lip.
She had thought she’d catch up soon. She thought it wouldn’t take much longer.
But she was still that far behind.
When she received the song, she couldn’t even get a feel for how to sing it and wandered around lost for a long time.
Han Goyo, on the other hand, finished her interpretation in just an hour.
After finishing the song, Han Goyo looked at Yoon Suyeon.
Their gazes tangled.
Seeing Yoon Suyeon meet her eyes without looking away, Han Goyo smiled.
“Still don’t get it?”
“…Please, just a few more times.”
“Fine. If it gets too hard, tell me. I’ll tell you how you should sing it.”
“I’m fine.”
Yoon Suyeon firmly rejected Han Goyo’s offer.
She didn’t want that much help from a rival. And if she took that help now, it would be harder to grow in the future.
That can’t happen.
She didn’t want to trade her chance to grow for a little comfort right now.
At Yoon Suyeon’s stubborn expression—full of pride, fixation, and all sorts of things—Han Goyo smiled lightly.
“Then you sing it once.”
Yoon Suyeon nodded and stood up, then started singing.
Listening, Han Goyo made a small “hm” sound.
Yoon Suyeon’s singing was excellent.
But compared to Han Goyo, who had just sung, she was lacking in many ways—especially in persuasive power.
Meaning: she still hadn’t properly interpreted the song.
This is enough.
When Han Goyo first realized Yoon Suyeon was taking what belonged to her, she’d been deeply anxious that Yoon Suyeon would take her place—that her place would disappear, like at home.
Back then, she’d been mentally unstable—anxious and impatient.
And that was why she’d snapped at someone for the first time—at Yoon Hajun.
But looking at it now, it seemed like a needless fear.
Sure, compared to the festival when she first saw her, Yoon Suyeon had grown tremendously.
But Yoon Suyeon wasn’t the only one who had grown.
“Do you know what’s different between you and me?”
At Han Goyo’s question, Yoon Suyeon closed her mouth for a moment.
The most decisive difference between them.
The answer came easily.
“Persuasive power.”
“Right. You still haven’t interpreted what kind of song this is. Not at all.”
“What kind of song it is…”
“When Hajun made this song, what he was thinking—don’t worry, I’m not going to tell you to think that far. You can’t know that unless you talk to Hajun directly.”
“Yes.”
“So you have to interpret it.”
I have to interpret it.
Not just match my brother no matter what. Me.
“Don’t you need to know the composer’s feelings, though? His state of mind?”
“If you can interpret that perfectly, then sure, that’s best. But that’s basically impossible unless you hear it directly.”
“Well… yeah.”
“And in the end, the one singing is the singer. Even if you interpret what the composer felt, if you can’t bring that emotion out perfectly, I think it’s better to sing it in the way the singer can sing best.”
“…When you sang 『Blame』, was it like that too?”
Han Goyo nodded instead of answering.
So that was how it was.
Yoon Suyeon remembered what Lee Jiyoon had said.
Think about how you can sing it more perfectly.
Was that not about thinking what Hajun felt when he made it, but about thinking how she could sing it perfectly?
Yoon Suyeon closed her eyes for a moment and thought about how she could sing this song more perfectly. Then she slowly opened them.
“I think I get what you mean. Roughly.”
She roughly understood what Han Goyo meant, and what Lee Jiyoon meant.
But—
“It’s going to be hard.”
She wasn’t going to sing exactly the way Han Goyo said.
Han Goyo’s words weren’t automatically the right answer.
And more than anything, Yoon Suyeon had decided she wouldn’t sing while being conscious of Han Goyo anymore.
If she sang following Han Goyo’s advice, she’d start being conscious of her again.
Rivals only in real life. When she sang, she had to sing her own song—no one else’s.
So Yoon Suyeon planned to use both Lee Jiyoon’s advice and Han Goyo’s advice.
More precisely, she would think about what Hajun felt when he made this song and sing while thinking about how to deliver that emotion perfectly.
Of course, that wasn’t easy.
If the composer were someone else, it would’ve been a ridiculous idea.
But the composer of this song was her brother.
So it’s possible.
It would be impossible for Han Goyo, but possible for her.
Han Goyo and Yoon Hajun were strangers.
But Yoon Hajun and Yoon Suyeon were siblings.
And if she could do this—
Yoon Suyeon would gain an advantage that was hers alone.
“Did you listen to the rearranged version?”
“Yes, I did.”
“How is it?”
“Of course it’s great! And that’s not just my opinion—boss and the unnies said the same. They said they love it and they’re going to practice with it as-is.”
“That’s a relief.”
If they liked the arrangement, that was good.
While Yoon Hajun spoke with Jin Sohyang, he kicked Kim Taeyoung’s thigh with his foot as Taeyoung kept pestering him, asking, “Who is it? Who’s that?”
“For the stage choreography, ask your choreographer teacher. I’m not confident about that part.”
“Okay. Ah, for the direction, we’re doing the outfit removal, right?”
“Yeah. That’s best.”
Hearing an idol talk about “removing clothes” felt a bit weird, but anyway.
In Hajun’s opinion, there was no staging with more impact than that. It could give the feeling of shedding skin.
“Then if you do stage practice or anything, film it and send it to me.”
“Yes!”
“Okay, good work.”
“Yes, Hajun, you too!”
After that, Hajun hung up.
At the same time, Kim Taeyoung lunged at him.
“So who is it? The person you’re working with next? Or your crush?”
“What the hell are you talking about? It’s Jin Sohyang.”
“Oh.”
Kim Taeyoung’s expression turned bored.
Hey. That was a bit much, wasn’t it?
Who was hotter than Jin Sohyang in Korea right now?
“So the next person you’re working with is Jin Sohyang?”
“Yeah, for now. It’s not some long project, though. I just agreed to oversee the Hamu Concert stage.”
“Ahh, the Hamu Concert. Right, that’s a thing.”
As a trainee, Kim Taeyoung seemed to know about the Hamu Concert, at least. Then he clicked his tongue.
“But is your time okay? Don’t you have an event soon?”
“The event prep is done. There’s almost nothing left for me to do. The rest is on Suyeon.”
“Ah. Then what about Singer Star?”
“I’m preparing for that right now.”
He was still preparing for Singer Star. He was making songs here and there. Even yesterday, after working on the song for Jin Sohyang, he kept working on those tracks.
“Looks like you’re preparing really seriously.”
“The lineup is what it is.”
Kim Taeyoung nodded like that was fair enough.
Then he looked at Hajun and grinned.
“Yeah, because I’m going too. It’ll be hard, won’t it?”
“What?”
“I’m going too.”
Hajun blinked, then stared at Kim Taeyoung. Kim Taeyoung looked back shamelessly, like, what are you staring at?
“Why the hell are you going on that show?”
“I told you. The company suggested it. At first I was debating, but when I heard your sister and Goyo were going on, it sounded fun, so I said I’d do it.”
This was a headache.
He’d forgotten Kim Taeyoung had that crazy personality too—the kind who saw Han Goyo’s stage and got hyped, shouting that this was what rivals were supposed to be like.
“Your company’s other trainees aren’t saying anything?”
“After they got crushed by my skill, they just talk trash about me nonstop. Tsk.”
Ugh.
Why did nothing ever go the way he thought it would?
Just like the last festival—every time something like this happened, the difficulty went up from what he expected.
This was what happened when you ran your mouth.
He shouldn’t have told Taeyoung.
Yeah. It was his fault.
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Since it’s your sister, I’ll go easy on her.”
At Kim Taeyoung’s nonsense—probably meant to comfort him—Hajun snorted.
What? Go easy?
Clicking his tongue, he said, “Worry about yourself, you bastard. Don’t lose to my sister and embarrass yourself.”
“Sounds like you’re confident.”
“Of course I’m confident.”
Hajun was the composer, but Suyeon was the one singing. As long as he didn’t make some unbelievably awful song, Suyeon wouldn’t get eliminated that easily.
“Good. The event’s coming up soon, so I’ll check your sister’s skill then.”
“Why do you keep being conscious of my sister?”
“I can’t help it. If your sister sings well, you’ll only make songs for your sister. You’re my future composer.”
“The hell is wrong with you.”
At the disgusting thing Kim Taeyoung said, Hajun reflexively kicked him.
“Hey, stop hitting me!”
“Then stop saying things that deserve to get hit, you psycho.”
“What did I do! Okay, fine, the ‘future composer’ thing was a joke, but I really am paying attention to your sister. She’s an opponent I’m going to face on Singer Star.”
There were way too many opponents.
The existing contestants, plus Han Goyo, and now Kim Taeyoung too.
Hajun stopped kicking him and sat back down.
“Yeah, yeah. Watch all you want.”
As he said that, he looked down at his phone.
Could Suyeon really digest the song I made?
Recording was this weekend already, but Suyeon hadn’t said anything, and that worried him.
He believed she was handling it on her own, but with no messages at all, he couldn’t help worrying.
She’ll be fine, right?