99 – A Short Break. (1)
99 – A Short Break. (1)
The day after the freshman concert ended, the mood among the first-years in the Practical Music Department at Seolwon Arts High shifted in a strange way.
More specifically, everyone was generally excited. During breaks, lunch, and any free period, they gathered in small groups and talked about the freshman concert.
And at the center of those conversations were Jeong Jinhoo and Yoon Suyeon.
First, Jeong Jinhoo.
His skill was undeniable. Even Yoon Hajun and Kim Taeyoung, who tore him apart, still acknowledged Jeong Jinhoo’s ability. No one doubted his skill.
But that was all.
The students praised Jeong Jinhoo’s skill and singing to the skies, but they didn’t have much to say about his stage. They wanted to listen to the song again, but they didn’t particularly want to watch the stage again. That was the overall reaction.
In contrast, Yoon Suyeon got glowing praise for everything—song, vocals, and stage. People talked about what the direction was like, what kind of mood the song had, and so on.
That was how strong the aftertaste of Yoon Suyeon’s stage was.
So public opinion tilted toward Yoon Suyeon. Of course, some students still couldn’t accept it.
But clearly, the prevailing opinion was on Yoon Suyeon’s side.
At that reaction, Jeong Jinhoo ground his teeth.
But that was it.
Normally, he would have shouted and bragged that he won, but this time he couldn’t say a word. That sense of defeat was that overwhelming for him.
Whether Jeong Jinhoo liked it or not, the students didn’t bother watching his mood. They kept excitedly talking about Yoon Suyeon’s stage.
And naturally, mentions of Yoon Hajun—the one who made Yoon Suyeon’s song and directed her stage—noticeably increased too.
“Yoon Hajun really is Yoon Hajun.”
“The teachers weren’t saying that for no reason.”
“Seriously. Ah, I really want to get a song from Yoon Hajun someday.”
At those reactions, Yoon Suyeon smiled with satisfaction.
Finally, people came to their senses.
But it was already too late.
She had memorized the faces of every kid in the audience who said her brother was “all hype” and whatever else.
Even if Oppa forgave them, she wouldn’t.
“Ahem.”
Seeing Yoon Suyeon burning with hostility, Im Yeonji coughed awkwardly.
She was about to ask if there were any leftover songs Oppa made, but looking at the mood, she decided she should save it for later.
“Suyeon, your stage was seriously amazing.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, yeah. Especially that stage direction. The part where you opened the door and came out—was that your brother’s direction?”
“Yeah.”
“That was seriously good.”
Instead, Im Yeonji kept piling on mindless praise for Yoon Hajun and Yoon Suyeon.
Whether she wanted a feature later, or wanted to get a song, building a good image now mattered.
There was one thing Im Yeonji learned from being friends with Yoon Suyeon:
Yoon Suyeon liked hearing praise for Yoon Hajun more than she liked hearing praise for herself.
And just as Im Yeonji expected, Yoon Suyeon smiled with satisfaction at the praise for Yoon Hajun.
“Right? I’m telling you, Yeonji has an eye. You’re different from the others. You know how incredible my brother is—”
Ah, this is bad.
The second she heard praise for Oppa, she got started.
Im Yeonji’s face turned miserable.
Once it started, the praise-for-Oppa mode lasted at least twenty minutes.
Meaning she had to listen to at least twenty minutes of Yoon Hajun praise starting now.
And she couldn’t dare cut in or interrupt.
On top of that, there were so many different episodes, and the story changed every time, so she couldn’t even half-listen.
If she listened carelessly and couldn’t answer Suyeon’s questions properly, she had to hear it again from the beginning.
Yeonji! You can do it!
Gripping the hem of her skirt, Im Yeonji poured all her effort into listening closely to Yoon Suyeon’s story.
§ § §
“Thanks.”
“Not at all.”
Answering Lee Jiyoon, I took a sip of coffee.
The day after the freshman concert ended, Lee Jiyoon contacted me. She said she had something she wanted to say about Jeong Jinhoo.
So I asked if we should meet at the academy, and she said she would come herself to match the time her class ended. I had no reason to refuse, so I told her to do that, and now I was talking with Lee Jiyoon at a café near the school.
“Did Jeong Jinhoo come to his senses a bit?”
“Who knows.”
At my words, Lee Jiyoon trailed off.
Well, it wasn’t like a person could change that easily. Still, since he was a singer, he must have felt something after seeing Suyeon’s stage.
“But I think his head definitely got cracked.”
She was saying her nephew’s head got cracked while smiling like that.
That was kind of scary.
Well, it was a metaphor.
Jeong Jinhoo’s thinking was rigidly hardened. He chased technique and nothing but technique. He trusted only his talent. He threw away emotional delivery and appeal.
But that was a terrible choice for a singer.
Well, if he planned to never do live performances and only release recordings, it wouldn’t matter much.
“Now the rest is on me. Still, he realized he isn’t the best. That alone is enough.”
“It wasn’t too much, right?”
“Mm… I didn’t see the stage myself, so I don’t know. But he definitely got shocked in a lot of ways. Normally he would have acted cocky and looked down on everyone, but this time he couldn’t say anything.”
“That sounds rough.”
“It can’t be helped. He’s still my adorable nephew.”
As she said that, Lee Jiyoon smiled slightly.
Then that means I repaid the favor, right?
The rest, like she said, was all on her.
And I didn’t want to spare Jeong Jinhoo another thought anyway. Suyeon and Goyo—and even Taeyoung.
How many people did I have to keep an eye on already?
What was so adorable about that guy, anyway?
“And as payback… hmm. Later, if you need help with something, I’ll help you.”
“Help?”
“Yeah. As long as it’s within what I can do. I’ll use whatever I can—connections, anything. I may not look it, but I’m pretty well-connected.”
Hm. This was an unexpected gain.
I figured Lee Jiyoon would do something, but I didn’t expect to get a “use Lee Jiyoon’s connections” coupon.
Like she said, Lee Jiyoon was famously well-connected in the entertainment industry. If I could get her help, it would make a lot of things easier.
“I’ll ask when I need it.”
“Sure.”
“Ah, you said you had plans later, right? Don’t you have to go now?”
“Yeah. I should get going soon. Then when you need help, contact me without feeling burdened.”
“Yes.”
After that, Lee Jiyoon stood up and left.
Then she got into a luxury sports car and drove off at high speed.
Left alone in the café, I sipped the coffee I still had and looked at my phone.
It was six o’clock now.
Kind of an awkward time.
Should I drop by MM Entertainment?
Or go home and work?
In the past, I would have gone back to the practice room and practiced, but there was no one in the practice room today.
Taeyoung started going back to the company again, and Goyo went to talk with MM Entertainment.
Even if I worked in that empty practice room, it would just feel hollow.
Mm, MM Entertainment…
Come to think of it, what was Seo Chaerim going to do?
I pulled out my phone and checked the most recent message from Seo Chaerim.
—Can I have Jeong Jinhoo?
So she had been working on this since when, seriously.
I told her to do whatever she wanted.
I didn’t particularly like it, but it wasn’t to the point where I hated him so much I couldn’t stand being in the same company.
Well, Suyeon would hate it.
But even if they were in the same company, the chances of them actually meeting or clashing would be extremely low, so it wouldn’t be a big problem.
As I was thinking that, someone tapped the table.
What?
At the sound, I looked up.
And there was a face that somehow looked familiar.
A bob haircut.
A cute face.
A bright, smiling expression.
Short.
And the uniform she was wearing was Seolwon Arts High’s. And judging by the color of her name tag, she was a first-year.
Where did I see that face?
I frowned slightly as I looked at her.
She kept smiling as she looked at me.
While staring at her face, I finally realized where I saw her.
It was the face I saw at yesterday’s freshman concert.
The owner of that stage that made me feel repulsed because she was trying too hard to act cute.
“It’s been a while, sunbae.”
“…Huh?”
Have we met before?
Thinking that, I looked at her name tag again.
Lee Sein.
It was a name that felt familiar.
Now that I thought about it, even when I saw her stage, I felt like I saw her somewhere before.
Back then I assumed it was because she’d be a future idol, but that didn’t seem to be it.
“Is it okay if I sit?”
Without even waiting for permission, Lee Sein sat down across from me.
Ugh. She definitely seemed to know me well.
No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t remember where I saw her.
“What’s with that expression? Don’t tell me you forgot me?”
“…Who are you?”
I answered honestly.
At my words, Lee Sein put on a hurt expression. It didn’t look like she was actually hurt—she was acting.
Her facial changes were really free.
“Did you really forget me? We went to JJ Vocal Academy together.”
“Ah.”
So she was a JJ Vocal Academy student.
JJ Vocal Academy—the academy I kept attending up until I gave up on being a singer.
In my past life, I went until I was twenty. In this life, I quit the moment I regressed.
But was there a kid like this at JJ Vocal Academy?
Unfortunately, I didn’t have any close friends there. Back when I went, I was extremely sharp.
Rather than getting close to anyone, I focused on singing and pushed people away whenever they approached.
So I barely knew anyone’s name. Even if I did back then, I forgot now.
At most, I vaguely remembered some faces—and even that was vague.
To me, JJ Vocal Academy was somewhere I went ten years ago.
And in my memories, there was no face like hers. With looks that cute, she would have been pretty well-known at the academy.
Seeing my confused reaction, Lee Sein let out a sigh.
“Wow, you really did forget. Then what about this face?”
As she said that, Lee Sein rummaged through her bag, pulled something out, and put it on.
What she put on was a pair of extremely thick glasses.
The kind that distort your features so your eyes look smaller and your whole face changes.
And when she put them on, I went, “Ah.”
I remembered that face.
Not like we were close.
Just someone I spoke to a few times at the academy.
“So you remember this face, at least. I mean, back then I always went around barefaced with thick glasses on.”
“So you wear contacts now?”
“Yes.”
Taking the glasses off, Lee Sein nodded with a smile.
Can someone change that much just by taking off glasses and wearing contacts?
Pretty impressive.
But—
“What do you want?”
“What I want? Nothing. I just came to the café, saw you, and I was happy to see you, so I said hi.”
“Hm.”
Were Lee Sein and I ever that close?
It didn’t feel like it.
At best, we had a few conversations at the academy.
“Still, it’s unexpected.”
“What is?”
“That you switched to composition. I thought you’d do vocal as your major no matter what. You took singing more seriously than anyone at the academy.”
“That can happen.”
And she wasn’t wrong.
I didn’t die, but until before the regression, I stubbornly clung to vocals.
At my answer, Lee Sein made a small hm sound through her nose.
“Do you know you’ve gotten way nicer?”
“Have I?”
“Yes. Back then, if someone talked to you, you only answered with stuff like ‘Don’t talk to me.’ ‘I don’t have time.’ ‘Figure it out.’ ‘Why would I?’”
“…Tsk.”
That wasn’t wrong either.
Back when I went to the vocal academy, I was pretty damn sharp.
So there were quite a few kids I didn’t get along with.
Instead of answering, I drank my coffee.
Seeing me like that, Lee Sein also carefully drank her coffee—blowing on it so it wouldn’t be hot, lowering her head.
I frowned slightly at that.
Like I felt yesterday watching her stage, it was a bit much.
Every little action felt like she was conscious of other people watching.
“Kind of a shame. I liked how you were back then, too.”
Just as Lee Sein said that and looked at me, her phone rang.
At the sound, she looked disappointed as she checked it, then spoke to me.
“I’ve got something, so I should get going. Is it okay if I say hi again later? Ah—no, just give me your phone number.”
As she spoke, Lee Sein held out her phone to me.
After a brief hesitation, I gave her my number.
She took it, waved her phone at me, and said,
“Then I’ll contact you later.”
With that, Lee Sein left the café.
I watched her go, then downed the coffee that had gone completely cold.
It felt like a storm just passed.
§ § §
After talking with Lee Sein, it was too late to stop by anywhere else, so I headed straight home.
And when I got back, Suyeon greeted me.
“You’re back?”
“Yeah. What—did you come straight home today?”
“Yeah. I’m going to rest today. Is that not allowed?”
At Suyeon’s question, I smiled and patted her shoulder.
“Of course it’s allowed. You’ve been running hard up to now, so it’s fine to rest for a day.”
“Right? Ah, but it’s not like I’m planning to keep resting! I just wanted to rest because I have something to talk to you about.”
“Something to talk about? What is it?”
“Summer vacation.”
At Suyeon’s words, I said, “One sec,” and went to my room to change.
Summer vacation…
Yeah, it was about time we had to worry about that.
Other students would be talking about traveling somewhere for summer break.
Suyeon and I didn’t have time for that.
This summer vacation would be the most important one of our lives.
“But are you okay not studying for finals?”
“I’m studying, so don’t worry. More importantly, Oppa—you said once summer vacation ends, you’re going to sign a contract somewhere.”
“Right.”
Come to think of it, I didn’t tell Suyeon the details.
It wasn’t like I was deciding everything alone without her.
I just didn’t tell her on purpose so she could focus on the freshman concert.
“Do you remember the Practical Music Department concert during summer vacation?”
“Yeah. The one where Sohyang Unni performed last year, right?”
“Right. You’ll probably participate. As the first-year representative.”
“Like Goyo Unni last year?”
“Yeah.”
I didn’t ask why she said Sohyang first and then named Goyo second.
I could guess.
At my answer, Suyeon frowned.
“And?”
“That concert draws a ton of industry people. Like, a lot. If you show a good side there, a bunch of companies will come calling.”
“Ah, so we decide there? Hm. I still want to be at the same company as you, Oppa.”
Suyeon looked at me carefully.
I smiled and said,
“That’s what I’m thinking too. But if you sign under the label of being my little sister, people will be annoying about it. You’ll put on a good stage at the concert, then sign in the best possible way.”
“Then I don’t really care. If it’s the same company as you, Mom will feel relieved too.”
“Yeah. And once you sign, you enter Singer Star in August. Filming starts in September.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, and. Goyo is going to be on Singer Star too.”
I couldn’t say it until now, but it was fine to tell her at this point.
Suyeon’s expression changed.
It hardened for a moment, then she smiled.
“So I’ll face Goyo Unni head-on.”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
Suyeon clenched her fist hard.
At the same time, I tensed up too.
Now that I thought about it, it had been a while since I last heard Goyo sing.
No way she got even better in the meantime… right?
I guessed we’d be able to check her level at the summer festival in August—the second-years’ event.
“Then let’s practice right away. I’m ready to practice.”
“I want to, but not right now.”
“Why? Because of finals? You don’t have to worry about th—”
“Not that. You’re going on the school trip soon.”
“Ah.”
At my words, Suyeon opened her mouth.
It might be Suyeon’s last school trip in high school. If Singer Star went well and she debuted, she’d get busy.
“We don’t know how things will turn out, so enjoy the school trip as much as you can.”
“I’m fine even if I don’t.”
“Listen to Oppa.”
Maybe Suyeon would be fine, but from my perspective, I wanted her to at least get to enjoy what could be her last school trip.
At my words, Suyeon hesitated for a moment, then nodded.