Lara's Family Concert Surprise
Chu-ru-ri, chu-ru-ra, da-da-da. What came after that was short. Or maybe long, depending on how you look at it. It'd drag on if I got into details, and describing a girl's outburst in that much depth feels off anyway. So, simply put: Lara, who'd finally snapped her last thread of patience, unleashed her fury on me.
That day, I learned you could corner someone without ever raising your voice—just with cold, murmured words that somehow dredged up traumas I'd never even experienced, leaving me terrified. Good thing I skipped middle school, or if I'd dealt with any bullying there, I might've wet myself on the spot.
Lara's full-on delinquent mode was vicious enough to blow past even Moon Juhee fresh out of sleep. Juhee's just prickly; she doesn't gut your heart with every word like Lara did.
"If you'd just said one word, it wouldn't have come to this. Why the fuck do you always decide shit on your own—"
About three minutes after getting reamed by delinquent Lara, I'd heard every curse in the book. I'd spent years with the queen of venom herself, Moon Juhee, but a mere chat with a classmate girl had powdered my mental defenses. Like a samurai wiping his blade after felling a foe, Lara exhaled at the wreckage she'd left behind—nothing spared.
"Hoo... Don't do it again. Got it?"
"Yeah."
"Good. Sorry I blew up."
With Teacher Lara's brief humanity lesson over, things circled back to square one.
"So, busking's this Saturday, right? What do we do till then?"
"...You're actually gonna do the busking?"
"It's what you need, isn't it? Or should I just order you around?"
"No, that's not it. It is helpful for you, that's why I suggested it..."
Her agreement came quicker than expected. Normally, she'd grumble suspiciously all day until I laid out solid reasons. Was it trust from figuring out my intentions in Lee Jeongyeon's class? Or gratitude from the noraebang help? Either way, if Lara played along willingly, this got easy.
"If you're gonna do it anyway, no need to get mad..."
"..."
"Sorry. Really sorry."
I apologize fast—no second mistakes. They say watch out for the cute ones among girl delinquents, and now I got why, even just a little.
Anyway, back to business: Lara's busking prep.
"But why busking specifically?"
"'Cause it'll help you."
"How?"
"Every way."
No need for pretentious lectures on her question. Busking helps Lara in every aspect. Street performance means testing the skills from Lee Jeongyeon, plus busking's unique traits suit her perfectly.
"What're you talking about? Busking's traits?"
"Lara, busking's basically free shows for random strangers on the street."
No fixed audience—just passersby who might glance over. No tickets, no obligation to stick around. People who don't know you, might not even care about music. Everyday folks walking by. Not fans who came for you, but total unknowns. Nothing beats busking for building the skill to hook them.
"Plus, killer promo value."
"Promo?"
"We'll upload videos to Issostar or NewTube."
"Eugh..."
She recoils at the mere mention. I get the hate, but no compromises here. In this era, SNS and video sites aren't optional for building fame—they're essential. Even pure classical pianist Seonggwang has an Issostar. A new-gen vocalist like Lara can't shy from socials. Mine's sealed post-scandal anyway, so she'll carry extra weight.
"Not like we're hawking CDs on the corner."
"That's... but..."
"So do it. Make a new one for official stuff, not your personal."
"You could make it."
"Sure, but safer if you do—for backups against mishaps."
If I made it and my red-pill truth leaked? Lara gets dragged down, I drop out and piano-accompany strip joints abroad. Or strip myself. Better she handles the account. Plus, as a current high schooler, she'll manage it better.
"Anyway... where was I?"
"You running off to strip abroad."
"Not that. Busking reasons."
"Mid-explanation on why you gotta do it."
"Right. Thanks, Lara."
Back on track: busking's benefits checked out, rationale solid. It's a go, so for the next three days prep: something Lara must do.
"What?"
I tilt my head at her puzzled look, smile faintly, and reply:
"Sing in front of your family."
"......"
Lara ponders my words—three seconds tops? Her face hardens.
"No."
"No such thing as no. You have to."
"Seriously no! I won't! Too embarrassing!"
"That's exactly why! If you can't sing for family, how'll you face strangers?"
Her fierce backlash hits, but I stand firm. Crucial step: tough love to chip at her shame about showing her singing.
"Th-that's different! I won't! Can't! No!"
She fights back hard, but I don't budge. I'm Seonggwang, the guy who never yields. Whine all she wants—no flinch.
Face flushed red with rage, realizing stubbornness won't work, Lara switches angles:
"Why family specifically? Friends or others'd work!"
"They would, but family fits best."
No hesitation—logical answer. Low expectations for her singing, knows her inside-out. Feels shame but no distance issues. Who fits better than family? No friends to call anyway; strangers'd be awkward for us both.
"Anyway, give up. No escaping this."
Even with solid logic, Lara glares haughtily. No anger from me at her denseness. I've known prime brat Moon Juhee for two years—original Seonggwang. I know better discipline than scolding.
"Hey, keep it up and I'll call Teacher Junwoo and the principal?"
"...Principal and Junwoo Teacher?"
"Yup."
Perplexed at first, she grasps the horror from my follow-up.
"Listen up, Lara. You know their rep. Juhee's voice—you heard it that day."
Lee Junwoo's Kyunghee vocal grad; Juhee untrained formally but unmatched technically—her raw talent fueled her rise beyond hype or looks.
"Industry top-tiers dissecting your singing bit by bit. Imagine."
"......"
"They're nosy; ask for critique, they'll dive in. Hear 'em detail your harmonic flaws."
Terror for shame-phobic Lara. Her face pales at the thought—chilling indeed.
"You'd hole up for days. No joke."
I want fun music-making with a bright high schooler, not gloomy hikikomori Botchi Lara.
Finally silenced by my monstrous threat, I propose again:
"No objections? Tell your family ahead."
"Ugh..."
Failed to sway me, she grumbles dissatisfaction without full pout.
"Tch... Bet you could show yours."
"..."
Her words silence me; I stare, stunned.
"Lara."
"What?"
"I'm an orphan."
"Oh."
That short reply, and her eyes flutter wide, hand clamping her mouth.
"No, I mean—uh, that."
Stammering incoherently, she squeezes eyes shut, head bowed. Trembling awhile, she bows frantically.
"Sorry, really sorry... Why'd I say that crap—no, not like that... Just meant think from my side—wait, that's weird too."
Sniffling apologies nonstop; I pat her shoulder, smiling kindly to forgive.
"Lara, facts don't need sorry."
"......"
"Can't show family, like you said."
"No, uh."
"Can't push what I can't do. Forget my suggestion..."
"No no no no! I'll call family! Sing for 'em! I can! Please! Let me!"
"Oh, you can, huh? Can't myself. Nice having one mom, Lara..."
"No! Not that! Eeeeeek!"
After her scream-self-rebuke and more talk, she readily agreed. No far trip: post-school family invite concert today. End of day, she gifts me chocolate milk.
"Forgive?"
"..."
I accept, sip. Sweet. I forgive Lara.
Wasn't mad anyway.
That evening, instead of crashing home to shake off school fatigue, I hustled to some apartment complex. Chill wind swirled; towering buildings pierced the purple sky. Lara's got classical chops—figures she'd live fancy.
Me? Scraping by on Moon Juhee's hush money, and she's skimping lately, calling me cheeky.
"Around here, she said..."
She called me to a quiet playground inside the complex. At the address, I plop nearby, wait. Ten minutes early; she'll show.
"Wonder who family's coming?"
Mom's busy, so brother and dad, she said. Never heard what her parents are like. Weird to spill family deets to a casual classmate anyway. If dad's strict, trouble—I'm the adulterer punk in public eyes. Bad looks baseline; tie to his daughter? Disaster.
"Tch... Nah, probably not."
First week of May. Shiver hits unrelated.
Waiting quietly on the bench, presence approaches from side. Slowly nearing—him? Her? Tallish, could mistake for guy, but build screams woman. Stops before me. Glances, tilts head, asks cautiously:
"...Seonggwang?"
My name tenses me rigid. Knows me? Here for a fight? I shrink defensively; she blinks, beams bright.
"It is! You're the groupmate with Lara in class, right?"
Her warmth stuns me solo; then her words click—I ask carefully:
"Lara's parent?"
"Yup. She told you?"
"Yeah, but..."
Expected dad, not mom. Up close, Lara takes after her—blonde hair, lively speech, excited grin all Lara vibes.
"Shocked when Lara said group with Seonggwang! Just learned same school today!"
"Ah, yeah..."
"Saw you on TV only—way better in person!"
"Th-thanks."
Handshake offered; I take it.
"...Urk."
Grip crushes. Glancing up, her smile feels ominous.
"Just checking—no funny business, right?"
"N-nope. Pure coincidence grouping with Lara..."
"Good. Heard you're not bad from her. As a parent... you get it?"
I nod furiously; satisfied, she releases. Grip strength numbs to arm. Shaking hand behind, she slaps my shoulder, laughs heartily. Looks demure, but bold personality.
"Get along with Lara; bro coming soon—be gentle, he's sensitive?"
"...Yes."
Minutes after her warning, someone shuffles over listlessly. No need to ask—Lara's face twin. Diffs: brown hair, sharper eyes. Sis like her? But scowl hits me hard.
What, hate's new? After my deeds, expecting love's thief mentality. I greet Lara's sis awkwardly:
"...Hey? Lara's sis?"
"..."
"I'm Seonggwang, her groupmate..."
"I know?"
"...Huh?"
"Know. First meet, no casual talk. No plans to get close."
"..."
She sits; Lara's mom scolds her tone. I eye her, wonder if venom's genetic. Spiky attitude. Knows she dislikes me—fake some poise like Lara, geez. Ignoring haughty sis, wait Lara. Time's up—why tardy? Phone out to call: two missed from her.
"Uh, wait here a sec."
Excuse myself, reply late:
"Lara, where?"
[…]
"Lara?"
[Look front.]
Turn at her text: Lara, phone to ear, annoyed. Hang up, approach; she sighs deep, vents:
"Hey, really gotta? You leave after; I go home with them..."
"What's wrong? Not hiding singing forever—get used to it gradually."
"Easy for you... Said I'd, so I will..."
Still whiny; I pat her back to pep, nudge toward family clearing. Back rigid with nerves. Loosen mood with lame joke:
"Anyway, Lara, should've warned mom coming. Scared me half to death."
"What? Mom's not home today."
"...What?"
Her weird reply to my question. Met her mom, talked even. What's Lara on about?
"Said it: Mom busy, called dad and bro. Didn't meet my brother?"
"Wait—brother? Dad? What..."
"...Seriously? Something happen?"
Her words halt my steps. Lying? Hallucinating? Unbelievable reality—or what's truth? Fear approaching stalls me. No guts for truth, eyes shut. Some detective said: exclude impossible, whatever remains, however improbable...
"...Ah."
Finally face them. Two on bench, streetlamp glow overhead.
"Lara~"
Her mom calls cheerfully; sis broods at phone beside.
"Introduce: This my dad, that's my little brother."
"..."
Lara finishes formal intros back-turned; I stare, murmur greeting.
"Hello, Lara's Father..."
Finally, first meet.