Even You Would Struggle to Sing About a Goldfish
Sometimes I have these thoughts.
What if, in my previous life, I had chosen to walk the path of a composer just one year earlier?
Would I have enrolled in Seolhwa Arts High School then?
Probably not.
The tuition and fees were ridiculously expensive, in perfect proportion to its reputation as the best arts high school.
In fact, getting accepted might have been difficult in itself.
The entrance competition for Seolhwa Arts High School was notoriously fierce.
Could the me from back then—who was just learning piano under my sister—have possibly passed the exam?
If I had studied like hell for the written portion, maybe I could have scraped by…
The Seolhwa Arts High School entrance exam consisted of a written test and a practical test. The written counted for thirty percent, while the practical made up a massive seventy percent. The conclusion was clear: the practical, which revealed a student’s true talent, was what mattered most, but you still couldn’t completely ignore the written section.
Paradoxically, most applicants gave up on the written test entirely. It was as difficult as the entrance exam for a top science high school. So wasn’t it more efficient to spend that time preparing for the practical instead?
“That’s exactly what most people think. They only prepare for the practical and end up failing at Seolhwa Arts High School.”
My sister launched into an excited explanation about the school she attended. The moment I announced I was going to apply, she had barged into my room and hadn’t stopped talking since. Oh, and Baek Yerin listening quietly beside us was just the bonus.
Come to think of it, this exact scene had been happening a lot lately. Both of them were originally busy with their schedules, but RT Entertainment had announced a break until the end of the year. Their workloads had shrunk dramatically, which naturally led to more free time—and more uninvited gatherings in my room from early evening onward.
…But why did it have to be my room?
While I was thinking that, my sister continued.
“Anyway, it’s best to prepare for both the written and practical. Unless you have overwhelming confidence that you’ll crush the practical, of course.”
“Hmm… Could you tell me what the practical exam for the applied music department looks like?”
“That’s all kindly posted on the school homepage, so it’s no secret.”
According to her, the applied music practical was split into two categories depending on the major. For composition, you chose one instrument and performed an original song on it. After the performance, you had to explain the piece—why you wrote it, what theme it carried, and so on.
For vocal majors, it was simpler: just sing one song of your choice. But because that was the only thing they judged, the examiners were extremely strict.
“So either way, you still have to sing,” I said.
“Why? Not confident? Now that I think about it, I’ve never actually heard you sing before.”
Her words brought a bitter smile to my face. It wasn’t that I lacked confidence entirely. Objectively speaking, I didn’t possess the same level of talent as Baek Yerin or my sister. Still—
“I think they’re really good.”
Baek Yerin, who had been quietly listening, suddenly spoke up. She said my singing was really good.
I knew instinctively that there wasn’t a trace of falsehood in her words.
My sister’s eyes sparkled with interest at Baek Yerin’s confident declaration.
“Wait, Yerin, you’ve heard him sing?”
“He recorded a few guide tracks for me before and let me listen. By my standards, every single one was amazing.”
“Oh! Then I want to hear them too!”
“No. I’m never playing them for you.”
“Why not?! If the great Yerin says they’re good, that’s basically verification, isn’t it?”
“Maybe he finds it embarrassing.”
“Aha. So that’s it?”
Baek Yerin and my sister looked at each other and smiled warmly. Just watching them made me feel utterly drained. Why couldn’t I get any proper rest in my own room? And why did Baek Yerin have to sincerely praise my songs like that?
While those thoughts swirled in my head, my sister yawned and stood up from my bed.
“I should probably head out now. This much is pretty considerate, right?”
She glanced back and forth between me and Baek Yerin. Yeah, I could agree with her on that one. I wanted to sleep soon, so I wished they would both leave quickly.
Ryu Won let out a quiet sigh.
Even though his older sister, Ryu Se-a, had left the room, someone else was still there.
Baek Yerin.
“……”
She showed no intention of leaving. A strange silence settled over the room where only the two of them remained.
In that silence, Ryu Won spoke first.
“Why did you say my song was good earlier?”
“Hm? Because it is good. I don’t know how it sounds to other people, but I really like the way you sing. I felt the same when I heard you at the karaoke that day.”
It was an immediate answer. For Baek Yerin, it was completely natural. She genuinely believed his songs were good. After all, she had been listening to them every single day since then—the tracks Ryu Won had recorded and sent her.
In that sense, someday… she wanted to hear him sing other songs too.
But Ryu Won knew his own limits all too well. Unless it was a very special situation, he probably wouldn’t sing for her.
After hearing her straightforward reply, Ryu Won scratched his cheek. The comment felt a little embarrassing to the one being praised, and he actually felt a bit sorry for her.
Just… because your songs are so good. Good enough that I want to keep listening forever.
His past self had once said something with the exact same feeling.
“Ahem!”
Ryu Won cleared his throat. To keep the atmosphere from growing awkward, he changed the subject.
“Speaking of which, what are you planning to do?”
“About what?”
“Are you going to high school?”
In his previous life, Baek Yerin had skipped high school and taken the equivalency exam instead. Her only reason had been to focus entirely on her career. Now that so many things had changed, what was she thinking?
Baek Yerin thought for a moment, then smiled brightly.
“Maybe I’ll try for Seolhwa Arts High School, just like you.”
“You don’t even need a grand word like ‘try.’ If I were the school, I’d accept you on the spot just from reading your application.”
Ryu Won chuckled as he said it. Baek Yerin looked slightly surprised.
“You’re not as shocked as I expected. I thought you’d be flustered if I suddenly said I wanted to go to Seolhwa.”
“It’s not that I’m not flustered—that would be a lie. But if it’s your choice, I’ll respect it and cheer you on.”
There was no falsehood in his words. He simply respected whatever Baek Yerin chose, no matter what it was.
Even if she decided to attend Seolhwa Arts High School, that principle remained the same. Of course, it might create some awkwardness at school… but Ryu Won believed she would handle herself well.
Yeah.
Probably?
“Both of you decided to apply to Seolhwa Arts High School?”
“Yes.”
“Huh. That school is going to be in chaos in more ways than one.”
“We haven’t passed yet.”
Kang Beom-jun let out a small laugh at Ryu Won’s answer.
“If you two don’t pass, there’s something wrong with the school. No matter how hard their exam is, there’s no way you’d fail.”
“At least Yerin probably won’t. But my face isn’t known yet.”
He would have to take the test purely as Ryu Won, not as the composer Haon. On top of that, he had suddenly gained the label of Ryu Se-a’s younger brother, which might raise expectations during evaluation.
“Does that really matter? If it’s one of your compositions, they’d be drooling while handing out perfect scores.”
“That would be true if it were a Haon song. But using something like that for a high school entrance exam feels too wasteful.”
That was why Ryu Won wanted to create something completely new—a fun piece that a regular high school student named Ryu Won might write.
“That’s actually why I came to your house for advice.”
“Haha. How badly did you need my input that you showed up at my place on a Sunday?”
Kang Beom-jun gave a warm, almost enlightened smile. As he had pointed out, Ryu Won was currently visiting the CEO’s home. He had rushed over for practical exam advice… or rather, he had simply been bored.
“Anyway, can I borrow a guitar? And could you give me any random word?”
“Why the sudden request?”
“I’ll compose a song with that as the theme. On the spot. Shouldn’t there be at least that much of a handicap to make the high school entrance exam interesting?”
“Huh, I see. For you, an entrance exam would feel like exactly that kind of game. All right, I’ll really say something random?”
Ryu Won nodded like it didn’t matter at all. Kang Beom-jun slowly looked around the room. His eyes naturally landed on a fancy fishbowl sitting on the table.
He pointed at it.
“How about that?”
“…Goldfish?”
“Yes. Even someone like you would find it difficult to make a song with goldfish as the theme, right?”
“Hmm.”
Ryu Won lightly tuned the guitar while gazing at the fishbowl. To anyone watching, he looked deeply lost in thought. Then he suddenly opened the memo app on his phone and began typing.
Kang Beom-jun could only quietly observe the boy who seemed utterly absorbed in the task.
Exactly fifteen minutes after Kang Beom-jun had thrown out the “goldfish” theme—
“Would you like to hear it?”
“…You already finished?”
“Yes. I even came up with the lyrics and the title. But don’t expect too much. I made it exactly at a high school student’s level.”
Ryu Won smiled as he spoke. He had found the theme surprisingly interesting, and since his goal was to match a high schooler’s perspective, he had been able to write without any pressure.
With that thought in mind, he slowly began playing the guitar. His fingers moved lightly, filling the living room with the clean, gentle sound of acoustic strings. Lowering his head to read the lyrics on his phone, he started to sing.
As Kang Beom-jun listened, one thought kept repeating in his mind.
In just fifteen minutes… he had created a song like this on the spot, with goldfish as the theme?
“What do you think?”
“Haha. It was quite charming. A pure song that naturally makes you smile—something like that.”
“So if I polish it a little more, it should work well enough for the practical exam?”
Kang Beom-jun nodded at the question.
Of course.
It was a piece written by a genius composer, after all.
Even if it had been made purely for fun.