One Song by the Han River
“Uh...”
Only now noticing the people packed around our tent, Woo Cheong-hee, trailing out behind us, let out an awkward little sound.
Lee Jae-jin seemed to have expected something like this, but the sea of camera lenses the moment he stepped out still left him looking startled. And me, standing right at the front with a sheepish smile, glanced around—everyone whose eyes met mine started speaking up one after another.
“They’re out!”
“We’re fans!”
“All three of them are so handsome!”
From people sprawled on the grass across the way to those on the stairs and even folks sitting on benches a bit farther off just watching us—luckily we’d set up at the far edge of the tent zone, so more people had gathered outside than inside, but the noise was still a nuisance.
As the chatter swelled, I quickly pressed a finger to my lips and looked around in a quieting gesture. The murmuring died down.
“Hello? I’m Lee Han-hee. How about we say hi quietly?”
“Han-hee, you’re too handsome!”
With this many people it wasn’t easy to keep control, but we had to stay quiet. We couldn’t bother the other park-goers.
“Honestly, you were all so quiet I didn’t even realize this many of you had gathered. Thank you for letting us relax.”
I smiled as I offered the thanks. Saying thank you for staying quiet should have kept people from shouting, but they weren’t that easily managed.
“Ah, I’m losing it. He’s insanely good-looking!”
“No, but that blond hair for real!”
“Han-hee, I love you! Jae-jin too! Cheong-hee, I love you!”
A few people clearly had no intention of calming their excitement.
I shot Lee Jae-jin and Woo Cheong-hee a look as I spoke.
“I’m sorry to everyone who waited for us, but if the noise gets too loud it might disturb other park visitors, so I think we should pack up.”
“No!”
“Don’t go!”
The moment we showed any sign of clearing the table and camping chairs, scattered shrieks burst out from every direction. People who’d settled into nearby tents just to watch us frantically waved their hands.
“We’re fine!”
“Just stay!”
“We waited to see you!”
As the crowd turned chaotic in an instant, Woo Cheong-hee flustered about making “Shh! Shh!” sounds. Lee Jae-jin wore the same troubled expression.
But honestly, I’d expected something like this from the moment I suggested the Han River and we set up the tent. Information traveled so fast these days—there was no way we could picnic at the Han River without getting spotted.
“You just want to watch us hang out here? Isn’t that boring?”
“Just looking at your faces is fun!”
Someone shouted that, and I couldn’t help laughing. The same person immediately followed up.
“Han-hee, just sing one song and I’ll be quiet!”
That was the signal.
“Just one song!”
People who knew we’d busked near campus before the show became the core, and the atmosphere shifted in seconds.
“Wouldn’t that bother the people around us?”
“It’s fine!”
Even as I wondered if this was really okay, I found myself swept up in the mood. Looking at all those expectant eyes, I nodded.
The actual requirements for busking at the Han River were pretty strict, but we didn’t have a mic or amp anyway—no need to overthink it. This was just playing around.
“If we sing one song, you’ll really stay quiet, right? Promise.”
“Promise!”
“We promise!”
I nodded back at the people bobbing their heads enthusiastically and connected my phone to the Bluetooth speaker, scrolling through the MRs I’d used for busking. Woo Cheong-hee whispered quietly.
“Hyung, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just sending them off like this would leave a bad taste.”
Some of these people had gone out of their way to come on a weekday afternoon just to see our faces—singing one song was nothing. If anything, it was an opportunity. I’d been wanting to test the new title.
Street Musician. A title granted for completing 100 hours of busking and reaching 10 million cumulative views on busking videos.
Effect: All stats increase by 1 during street performances.
From 86, 86, 98 up to 87, 87, 99. Stats like that left little to worry about. I was looking forward to it, actually.
“Cheong-hee, don’t worry too much. More importantly, I’m excited. Been a while since we got to see the penguin, huh?”
Lee Jae-jin patted Woo Cheong-hee’s shoulder and asked with sparkling eyes. Come to think of it, he’d said he used to watch me busk near campus often.
“Hyung, is there a song you like?”
“Huh? Plenty… hmm, how about We? Feels like it fits the mood right now.”
“You’re going to rap, hyung?”
After thinking it over, the song Lee Jae-jin recommended was We—a track with female vocal and rap features. It had been hugely popular once, so I knew it well. Besides, singing with Jae-jin would bump a random stat again. I let the corner of my mouth curl up.
“Wow, I love that song too!”
Woo Cheong-hee seemed to know it as well, humming the chorus. His clear, bright voice suited the song perfectly.
“Want to do the chorus together?”
“Huh?”
This track’s strength was its powerful yet soft vocals—perfect for a picnic vibe. Medium-tempo pop. Now that I thought about it, singing it together would be even better. Since we were doing this anyway, I suggested all three of us, then immediately started the accompaniment.
“Wow, is this actually real?”
University student Yu Min-hee, who had skipped her own classes the second she heard the kids had shown up at the Han River and dragged her boyfriend straight there, was unconsciously twisting his hand.
“Ow, ow!”
“Quiet, our Han-hee is talking.”
She gave her boyfriend’s hand a rough soothing pat—he’d been grumbling the whole subway ride—and focused her gaze. Celebrities usually looked better in person than on screen, but the face she’d seen on screen had already been so extraordinary that discovering something even more extraordinary existed felt amazing and mysterious.
And even more surprising was the way he handled the people crowding around.
“If it were me I’d have frozen up completely, but how does he talk so gently and prettily like that?”
It wasn’t just a great face—his thinking was great too. When he said he didn’t want to bother the people around them, Min-hee pounded her boyfriend’s shoulder. How admirable. Even so, her eyes stayed fixed ahead. Only nineteen, and already that composed?
“Well… must be a natural…”
Her boyfriend answered in a strangely deflated voice as he watched Lee Han-hee skillfully settle the situation. At that, Min-hee finally tore her gaze from the front and found a thoroughly dejected squid looking back at her. Huh, what’s with the seafood?
“…Kang-chan, don’t get so down. Noona still loves our Kang-chan.”
“….”
She roughly patted her tightly shut-mouthed boyfriend and frowned at how things were unfolding.
“Anyway, Han-hee’s not a jukebox—why are they acting like they put in song requests…”
Sing! Sing! Multiple voices were already riding the mood. They shouldn’t force him. Should she call the staff?
Come to think of it, didn’t the park staff make regular rounds? She looked around and spotted one of them off in the distance, watching the kids covering their mouths with “shh shh” gestures and beaming with a pleased smile. What are you doing over there?
Looking closer, past the outstretched hand and a space half-hidden by trees, she could see a few people complaining. She’d thought it was odd there were no troublemakers despite the crowd—had they all been filtered out?
“Yeah, if our kids want to hang out, we can’t let anyone mess that up.”
From the park managers’ perspective, removing the cause of the crowd would have been easier, but they’d chosen the more troublesome route of weeding out the problem people. Min-hee sent them her respect.
She quietly threw up double thumbs and offered her thanks. Thanks to your hard work, a lot of people are happy right now.
But are they really going to sing?
They didn’t look prepared at all—wouldn’t springing this on them be too much pressure? She watched with a nervous heart, and for a second she thought her eyes met Lee Han-hee’s.
“We didn’t prepare anything ahead of time, so we’ll just sing casually. Think of it less as a performance and more as hanging out together.”
Her worries felt pointless the moment she heard “let’s just have fun.” Min-hee’s eyes went round. Then the accompaniment started flowing from the tiny speaker sitting cutely on the picnic table, and the lingering noise gradually settled. Ah, this song.
Light pouring over the fields
We who stand upon them
The wind comes near
And speaks to us
It was an unusual track that jumped straight into the chorus from the intro, so high notes poured out from the start. The moment Lee Han-hee’s voice rang out, the surroundings went dead quiet as if washed clean. Min-hee brushed the goosebumps prickling up her arms. Beside her, Kang-chan wore a similar expression.
The weather’s so nice, I’m feeling good
Won’t you join me?
Won’t you fly a little farther with me?
Because the original was in a female key, he’d taken it a little lower, but the clear, pure quality remained intact. If anything, it felt even more sweet and mellow.
A park that was always full of every kind of noise because of the crowds, yet the people within reach of that voice clamped their own mouths shut just to hear a little better. A voice that rang out so clearly without a microphone—had it always resonated like that?
She’d known he was good live from stage videos and busking clips, but not this good. Midway, Lee Jae-jin cut in with the rap and the two of them fell into a playful back-and-forth, then in the highlight that followed all three voices blended together.
Light pouring over the fields
We who stand upon them
The wind comes near
And speaks to us
Won’t you fly a little farther with me?
Lee Han-hee’s higher ad-lib soaring above, Lee Jae-jin’s voice underpinning below, and Woo Cheong-hee holding the middle and carrying them forward—three voices stacking layer by layer into a rich sound that Min-hee listened to as if spellbound.
A cool breeze just then swept over them. She could also see the countless cameras filming the kids singing so casually on the colorful picnic mats.
The expressions of the people clamping their mouths shut to capture even a little clearer sound on video were all the same. They hadn’t expected them to be this good.
It was an impromptu live outdoors with no microphone at all, yet it carried a moving flavor of its own. Min-hee beamed, feeling as if she’d received an unexpected gift. She had the gut feeling that having seen this small performance up close would become something she bragged about for the rest of her life.
“Glad we came, right?”
“…Yeah.”
Her boyfriend, who’d been full of complaints on the way here asking if they really had to see them in person, now wore the expression of a gentle lamb. Min-hee laced her fingers tightly through Kang-chan’s, leaned her head on his shoulder, and savored the continuing harmony while feeling the soft breeze.
“This is happiness.”
A moment so full of emotion just from watching that you couldn’t help falling for someone.
Inside the moving taxi, Woo Cheong-hee was still humming under his breath as if he couldn’t quite leave the afterglow behind.
“Did you have fun at the Han River?”
“Yes, it was so much fun.”
The second the song ended, encore requests had poured in, and every time one song finished another encore followed, so by the time we finally left the Han River the sun had already set. Now we were in a taxi heading to Lee Jae-jin’s place.
“Everything today was really great. The weather, the people, the place, and you hyungs!”
From touring the electronic boards at subway stations first thing in the morning, to riding bikes, having a picnic, and even putting on a little performance—we’d packed the day so full that he should have been tired, yet Woo Cheong-hee’s voice stayed bright.
“I’m glad you had fun.”
“Yes, especially… I didn’t know busking could be this fun.”
“Brought back good old memories, didn’t it?”
“When we have time later, should we do it properly once?”
I didn’t know when we’d get the chance again, but street performing with other people gave a completely different feeling from doing it alone, so I wanted to try it properly at least once. It also seemed a waste to use the title that had just appeared only once and throw it away.
“I’m in!”
“Sounds good.”
Lee Jae-jin, sitting in the front seat, continued in a light tone.
“Let’s work hard and debut together.”
“…Yes!”
Woo Cheong-hee’s face, answering loudly from the seat beside me, was radiant. In the rearview mirror, Lee Jae-jin’s eyes met mine and he smiled back. Debut, huh. The end of the program really wasn’t far off. Just a month and a half left.
I counted the faces of the people I wanted to debut with, one by one. Maybe it was possible.
Watching the darkness settle outside the window, I carefully calculated the time we had left. It was already time to start preparing for the end of the program.