Sing Me a Congratulatory Song
“Teacher Taeyang, I think it’s about time we head out.”
“Yeah. Leaving thirty minutes early to account for any delays is the safest bet. Let’s get ready to go.”
The day had finally arrived. The frustrations of the past week flashed through my mind like a panorama. Winter’s attitude had been remarkably model-student-like. Aside from the moment she switched from calling me “Mister” to “Teacher Taeyang,” she followed every piece of advice to the letter and never once slacked off.
Winter’s talent wasn’t bad either. Considering the dramatic improvements she’d made from the guidance of someone who wasn’t even a professional dance trainer, her A-class potential shown in the status window was clearly proven.
The real problem was the bad habits she’d picked up without any foundation. Every time I corrected one, new ones would pop out like layers of an onion. Whenever I asked where she’d learned something so ridiculous, the same answer always came back: “Yeji told me to do it that way.” It was genuinely infuriating.
Through this week of correction lessons, Yeji—who I’d never even met—had earned more than enough qualifications to become my mortal enemy. Thanks to that, my heart burned with the fierce determination to get Winter accepted, if only to make Yeji choke on her own words.
“Got it? The second you fail, Yeji’s harassment will start all over again. She’ll drag every neighborhood thug she can find and scream, ‘You thought someone like you could pass an audition? You?’ while stomping all over you!”
“Um… I don’t think she’d go that far…”
It seemed Winter still hadn’t been burned enough by Yeji. To think she was defending that demon from Jeonnam. I almost launched into a full speech about Yeji’s wickedness, but after checking the time, I decided to save it for later.
“Never mind that. Double-check that you haven’t forgotten anything.”
“Yes! Student ID for identity verification—check!”
“Confirmed.”
“Touch-up cosmetics—check!”
“Confirmed.”
“Spare stockings—check!”
“Confirmed.”
“Wing-type sanitary pads—check!”
“Confir—wait, don’t tell me that kind of thing.”
I had zero interest in knowing such excessively personal information. Though it felt like I already knew far too much.
“Anyway, it looks like we’re mostly ready. I’ll drive, so let’s get going.”
“Wow! Matiz!”
Winter energetically shouldered her bulging backpack—which reminded me of a coconut crab—and dashed toward the parking lot first. After I’d driven her to the practice room a few times, she knew the way perfectly. I grabbed the inari sushi lunchbox my sister had made in case Winter got hungry during the audition and followed her out.
When I reached the parking lot, I walked past Winter—who was waiting like a meerkat—and started up my sister’s beloved Matiz.
“Get in.”
Winter scampered over, tossed her bag into the back seat, and climbed into the passenger seat.
“Seatbelt check!”
“Confirmed.”
After making sure Winter had actually fastened her seatbelt, I set the navigation to SS Entertainment’s audition venue and pulled out, driving with extra caution.
“Ah, I completely forgot about sending her to a hair salon. She needed either another round of bleaching or to dye it back to black…”
It was my mistake for not fixing that awkward blonde she’d clearly done herself at home. That hair only amplified the cheap delinquent vibe.
“Don’t dye your hair by yourself at home. The results are rarely good, and it can cause serious damage to your hair and scalp.”
“Actually, I’m mixed-race, so the hair color isn’t from bleaching—it’s genetic.”
Given her current situation, with only mixed-race parents and a grandfather as guardians, it must not have been an easy life for her.
“I see… Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. Hehe.”
“Still, fixing the clothes and makeup made a huge difference. That police officer didn’t just let me off because he bought my nonsense. You really looked like a total delinquent back then, you know?”
Even now, her sharp eyes and blonde-toned hair left some traces of that impression. But paired with the bright, high-teen crop top and wide-leg pants I’d coordinated for her, it came across as individuality rather than a problem. Her appearance that day on the bridge, however, had been a real issue.
“Why would someone as timid as you dress like that?”
From the company’s perspective—where they had to lock up girls who’d been praised as pretty their entire lives and drill them to exhaustion—her delinquent energy was the kind that could easily create discord. They’d be lucky if they didn’t look at her with suspicion, wondering if she had a hidden history of school violence. Therefore, the coordination I’d seen on the bridge that day was about as bad as it could get for an audition. She’d lose thirty points the moment they saw her face.
“Um… Yeji helped me with the clothes and makeup. She said it was the trending style among Seoul high schoolers…”
“That psychopath Yeji. Of course she’s behind this too.”
The demon of Jeonnam and master of gaslighting hadn’t missed a single opportunity to meddle.
“When you get back, don’t even associate with her anymore!”
I shouted, my voice filled with boiling rage.
“Repeat after me! Yeji is my enemy!”
“It doesn’t seem quite that bad…”
“Repeat it!”
“Y-Yeji is my enememy!”
Very satisfying. I drove in a pleasant mood, imagining Yeji writhing on the ground in jealous madness after seeing Winter accepted as a trainee at SS.
“But you know, Grandpa said something weird about my tastes back then.”
“Ah, the half-naked cartoon girl character? Well, women can like that stuff too. I respect sexual diversity, so don’t worry.”
“No! I like boys!”
Winter desperately explained that it was simply a character from a popular manga she liked who happened to wear revealing clothes. It wasn’t a weird character or manga at all. She added that she had perfectly normal, standard heterosexual preferences and that she liked older men—with the unnecessary detail that a ten-year age gap was still acceptable. It was the loudest I’d heard her since we met. She must have been incredibly flustered.
“Fine, it’s your taste. Who am I to say anything? It’s much better than following Yeji’s gaslighting. But please, for the love of God, stop using that half-naked character as your profile picture.”
“…Isn’t she cute?”
“The character might be cute, but I doubt the owner behind it would look that way.”
Honestly, I thought it was cute, but the strict Cheon Jonghun probably wouldn’t see it the same. So I spoke a bit more harshly.
“It makes you seem like the type who stays cooped up in your room, hugging a body pillow with that character on it and only watching anime. So change it.”
Winter’s face crumpled in shock as she defended herself.
“…I do go outside sometimes.”
…So the rest was accurate. Winter quietly changed her profile picture, then began chattering excitedly about the cheap mala hotpot my sister had made for her yesterday. As if trying to ease her nerves, she talked even more than usual today. I responded appropriately, and before I knew it, we had reached the bridge where I’d found Winter a week ago. I never imagined things would turn out like this.
Then again, who could have predicted getting involved with a high schooler who looked like she was about to jump off a bridge?
Passing by the bridge brought back that strange feeling. Winter seemed to feel it too; she stopped her nonstop chatter and stared blankly at the bridge reflected in the window.
When we were almost at the audition venue, Winter spoke again.
“Um, Teacher Taeyang.”
“What?”
“How can I ever repay all the kindness you’ve shown me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Everything. I’ve received so much that I can’t even think of a way to pay it back.”
“Just give me your first settlement payment.”
“Ah, that’s going to Grandpa, so that might be difficult.”
My ambition to snatch some easy money from this innocent girl was crushed in a single blow.
“Then sing a congratulatory song at my wedding someday.”
If she became a successful idol and sang at my wedding, that would be the best outcome. But even if she failed and remained an ordinary person, it wouldn’t be bad. A vocalist with A-rank potential wouldn’t just disappear. Even if I hired a professional wedding singer, Winter would probably do a better job.
“A congratulatory song?”
Winter muttered the words—congratulatory song, wedding, bride—thinking hard for a while before answering.
“…That might be a little difficult.”
“Then what would work?”
“I’m sorry… Sob.”
“Hey, don’t cry! Your makeup will run! How much time do we have left before the audition? Stop crying right now!”
When I started panicking and tried to pull over to the shoulder, Winter must have found it funny. She wiped her moist eyes and burst into a bright smile. The sight was so absurd that I couldn’t help but laugh too.
“Pay me back whenever you succeed and feel like it. If you don’t think of it, just forget about it and live your life.”
Even if Winter didn’t do anything special, I planned to collect from Cheon Jonghun myself. I wouldn’t tell her, since she might feel betrayed, but this was actually a fair transaction. Well, since we wouldn’t be seeing each other for long, it was probably better not to mention these behind-the-scenes details.
“I will never forget. Absolutely never.”
“You can forget that part. Just don’t forget the lyrics.”
When we entered the SS Entertainment building parking lot, the security guard asked what our business was. After I mentioned the appointment with Cheon Jonghun, the guard immediately raised the barrier as if he’d already been informed. He even kindly gave us directions to the C-3 practice room where we were supposed to meet.
After looking around the building and following the guard’s guidance, we arrived at the C-3 practice room with about twenty minutes to spare. I installed the audio file I’d brought on the well-used computer and audio system, finished the rehearsal, and the twenty minutes passed in a flash.
Exactly at five o’clock, the practice room door opened. Cheon Jonghun entered with one man and one woman—three people in total. I was slightly impressed by how they arrived with zero seconds of error. Cheon Jonghun glanced at his analog wristwatch and said,
It seemed Cheon Jonghun had no interest in introductions or formal greetings. He really was a consistent man. I nodded and played the song I’d loaded onto the computer. As the music began, Winter started to dance.