Lara's Catastrophic Hit and the Sibling Blind Date Disaster
Lara, let me get straight to the point. I'll use some pretty flippant words since this is shocking. Lara sang like absolute shit. And I don't mean just bad—she sang fucking terribly. This emphasis is key. In just over three days, I can testify that Lara put in a ton of effort, but if that little bit could've transformed her singing, the old-school teachers droning on about "hard work" might've been less annoying.
Trusting my words, Lara belted it out with everything she had, even incorporating the gestures and techniques Lee Jeongyeon taught her without missing a beat. But Lara still sang like fucking shit—a level of disaster that could only be called apocalyptic. This'll go down as Lara's eternal black history.
So, did her busking fail?...
"Woooaaah! One more song!"
The crowd was mesmerized by Lara's singing, sitting entranced as they watched her, some even filming her on their phones. Eyes drew to the song first, then people piled on from the crowd. They crammed into the tight space, circling her completely, all staring at Lara.
"Encore! Encooore!"
Every song's end brought applause, cheers, encore requests—and Lara, who started off shrinking back, soon rode the vibe and played along.
"An encore? What song should I do?"
"Romantic Cat! Do Romantic Cat!"
"Romantic Cat... hold on. Let me check the lyrics."
The plan was three ballads plus two backups, but they were already on the sixth song.
"Neon sign flickering at the alley's end—biting a lost star—!!"
She even did a rock song. It had more vibe than expected—I was shocked, and so was the audience. I hadn't drilled her on that genre; how'd she nail the groove?
"You want my Instagram? I have one, but I just made the account and haven't posted... lemme get permission first..."
Riding the crowd's energy, Lara chatted with them animatedly. Watching it all, I loved every second. But at the same time, I owed Lara an apology.
Lara, sorry.
I lied to her. Told her people wouldn't be interested in her, wouldn't listen to her singing. Not wrong, technically—before she sang, it was true; street folks ignore amateur crap. So why was a huge crowd watching Lara's busking? Why the massive cheers flipping out after every song?
Because she sang well? Nah. She sucks. So why stare at her singing when people ignore even slightly off singers? Why go nuts specifically for Lara?
Paradoxically, because she sucks. She sings so fucking terribly it draws them in. Mediocre bad gets ignored, but peak incompetence turns tragedy into comedy. And to me, Lara had a unique flair for singing badly. I aimed for that, and it hit.
If she'd caught on to my intent, she'd be pissed... but.
"One more! One more!"
"Ah, my throat's getting sore... okay, just one more."
Well... she's having fun, so it's fine, right?
Cameras in people's hands. Lara basking in the attention. Imagining the upload reactions, I burst into primal laughter just like the crowd.
"That's how you do viral marketing."
But damn, it still sounds like garbage. Can't get used to that singing. Shaking off my dizzy head amid the cheers, I aimed my camera to capture her song fully.
A week after Lara's busking and the video hit the internet. Straight to the conclusion again.
"Yesss!! It blew up!!"
Seonggwang's ultra-super-intelligence viral marketing: massive success!
"Whoa! Sex! Pussy! Juicy lips! Kiyaaah~!"
Followers, subs, likes, views—every metric hit five times projections. Dopamine exploding uncontrollably. I did a backflip on the spot.
"Gahk!"
Wrenched my neck and couldn't move for a bit. This is why you don't do dumb shit. Live within your means.
"Heh heh heh."
Couldn't stop grinning, though. How could you, with followers and views skyrocketing on every refresh?
Moon Juhee's busking tip plus Lee Junwoo's SNS viral strategy—I synthesized it all into a revolution. Cute face, clear voice, and that girl's apocalyptic singing skills sparked a firestorm. Yeah, I aimed for it. Gotta applaud my eye for raw talent like Lara, plus the planning and execution.
"Damn! A guy who can do everything but sex. Cherry-top Seonggwang...!"
If I could've pulled that off, the scandal wouldn't have ended here. Good thing it stayed attempted; full consummation would've been...
"Ugh, just imagining... ugh."
Chilling in multiple ways. Shrug off what I can't handle—back to happy reality. Promotion's solid; now hook the pulled-in crowd and viewers differently. Expectations for her singing are in the abyss, so one well-mixed track and they'll rave about the "plot twist." If not, a few more tone-deaf posts'll do. Man, music's easy when you're this slick.
Amazed at my own savvy again, but a twinge of unease hit.
"Reactions are great, but... is Lara okay?"
She got tons of attention, but not for being "cool" or "pleasant"—just funny comedy fodder. Hot responses included overheated comments. Even with permission, raw internet reactions might hurt a 17-year-old like Lara. Can't help worrying.
Me, Seonggwang. No parents, no manners—but not a psychopath lacking guilt or empathy.
"Hmm... check on her at school."
That Wednesday, Lara and I met in our usual third-floor classroom. I eyed her casually to gauge her state.
And she was...
What? She looks totally fine.
Expected mopey, depressed, pissed and hitting me—something. But she's chill. Same as always, no faking it either. Am I oblivious? These things don't show, sure, but I probed anyway.
"Hey, Lara... you see the video reactions?"
"Of course. I posted it on my account—how wouldn't I? It blew up, right?"
Yeah, it did. A few more months like this and monetization cash flows in. She knows, so she saw the comments too.
"You... saw the comments?"
"Yup."
Her casual reply made me anxious.
"Did they hurt? Or make you mad being gossip fodder...?"
"Nah. Just kinda expected it."
"But maybe not how you wanted?"
"True, but you explained it all before filming and posting. I knew and did it anyway. I do suck at singing."
Yeah, fair. Surprised at her self-awareness, but her eerie calm raised flags. Noticing my stare, she huffed, turned away primly, and fiddled with my guitar.
"If it wasn't that angle, promo wouldn't have worked. No one would've watched."
"True..."
"So better pull aggro hard upfront, then show the cool side later, right?"
"Yeah, got that planned."
"Then no issue. I don't get hurt by this stuff—focus on what needs doing. I brush off the harsh stuff myself."
She flashed a sly smile, snatched my guitar, and hugged it. Watching her chubby fingers fret chords, I felt relieved—and impressed. Lara's tougher than I thought. Expected more fragility from her usual vibe, but her mindset's pro-level cool. Past SNS or streaming experience? She's too composed.
Whatever, strong mental game's a win for me.
She's whiny often, but breezes past minor stuff coolly. Maybe I underestimated her resolve.
Pushing worries aside, I dove in.
"Okay, future plans. Evaluation's soon—gotta hustle, yeah?"
Bored of strumming, she listened intently. Praised her focus, then laid out the plan.
"First, aggro success. Your apocalyptic special skills are etched in minds."
"Tch, so?"
"Use it. Next: post a proper song."
No expectations means even slightly decent sounds great. Personally wanna milk the tone-deaf bit, but we're a music group, not comedy—image shift quick for grades.
Lara mulled it, frowned slightly, then asked:
"But... can I? You know my singing's... that."
"Sucks, yeah."
"...Right."
Face souring at her own admission—hates owning it, yet chill with public reactions? Odd.
"Busking was raw capture; this is my song, so fine."
My song—I know best. Guide her voice right in recording.
"Plus, mixing and fixes cover rough spots—no big worries."
"...Hmm."
Pouts at "mixing/fixes." Knows her limits, feels like cheating maybe. Get it, but overthinks—explain more.
"I know it bugs you, but mixing's standard here, Lara. Not bad."
No singer nails perfect takes. Even pros have glitches in recording. They polish for earbuds, laptops, speakers—not amps or opera halls.
"Live later, but tracks first—mixing's natural."
"...Yeah."
"Not overhauling—just tweaks. Your voice and tone are gold; sing right, minimal changes."
"Got it."
Perks at praise. Her sensitivity to her singing's a good vocalist trait—pride in it. Plus, fun watching her mood swing on words.
Lips twitching as she savored it, she asked:
"When's the song ready? You finished it."
"Yeah, just final tweaks. Monday next week for sure."
"Cool. Today... nothing specific?"
"Nope. Rest, or practice diction and projection—like Jeongyeon-unnie taught."
"Yessir~"
She waved goodbye, bounced out lightly. Watching her go—vibrant, bright, unlike someone I know. Eases my heart, like playing with a fluffy pup. (Dog hair allergy, though.)
Bright, lively, positive. Timid streak, touchy about her singing. Unique character. Love it, but... her current vibe feels off.
Too calm.
Giggles at slight praise, squirms at "you suck" hints. Trembled before stages, hated singing for family or karaoke. So emotional about her voice—why shrug off internet reactions? Laughing at her own clips, unfazed by sharp hate?
Just tough? Breezy personality? Too pat—17-year-old girl's too composed.
"...Tsk."
I called someone after she left.
"Hey? Unnie? Got a sec?"
Booked a weekend meet, then called another. Time to consult folks I know.
Saturday noon. Hongdae cafe spot. Next to me: a college girl stiff with nerves. Lee Jeongyeon—acquaintance, suspiciously savvy musical actress.
Off-duty she's baggy tees or sweats; today, dressed up nicely.
"G-Guys... my hair okay? Not weird?"
"Fine. How many times? Geez."
"It's been ages since a blind date... no shows lately, skipped diet... I look fat?"
"You're killing me."
Girl-crush days gone; now fidgety schoolgirl. Didn't even act this way in high school. Guess even tomboys crave guys.
I set this up, so gripes internal.
"Anyway, what'd you say about the guy?"
"24, teacher... same field?"
"Teacher? Ed school grad?"
"...Top Seoul uni."
"Smart guy! Love intellectuals."
I shook my head at her hype.
"Sports fan? I love working out—wanna do leisure dates, couple gym!"
"Oh, huge sports nut. Obsessed."
"Whoa, soulmate?!"
"Bets his life on one game."
"Eh, too much."
"Kidding." Her expectations dipped, but she stayed pumped. I pitied her, watching her eye the door anxiously.
Door opens. He arrives.
"Ah, you're here."
"Where?!"
Jeongyeon beams at him, about to greet warmly... then.
"...?"
Her face freezes. His sours at her.
"...Gwang, what the hell?"
"Blind date."
"I know. Why's she here?"
"She's your date?"
Twisted smile, she grabs my collar. He calls her name.
"Lee Jeongyeon... why're you here?"
They stare. Tense air—I intro to break ice.
"Jeongyeon-unnie, this is Lee Junwoo, my teacher. And ajusshi, this is Lee Jeongyeon, my unnie, musical actress."
"......"
"......"
"Relax, chat casually."
I grinned, bailed. Just them at the table, glaring.
Staring long, she opens:
"Hey, Lee Junwoo."
"..."
"What the fuck is this? Why're you here?"
"...Dunno. Gwang called me."
She glares murder at me. Why? No lies—just omitted he's her brother.
"Hey, Seonggwang."
She stands, calls me.
"Outside."
I thought of dialing 119.