Don't Worry, She's Happy
Among the people I know, there are exactly two who could be called delinquents. One is Lara, and the other is Lee Jeongyeon. Unlike the three losers who've tanked their social standing and reputation, these two maintain good relationships with everyone—while sharing the common trait of mercilessly punishing me whenever they snap.
Our new face Lara guts people with her words, but our original delinquent Lee Jeongyeon is different. She doesn't bother with that petty verbal shit. Jeongyeon just beats you.
"Gahhh! Mercy, have mercy!"
"Don't raise your arm like that, or your bone'll snap."
"Aaaack!"
With years of martial arts training and relentless gym sessions building up her terrifying external power, she just fucking decks you.
"Taekwondo! Tae! Kwon! Do!"
"That's a boxing one-two! Why taekwondo?!"
"I do MMA these days too. Chest-oh!"
"Keh!"
Of course, she doesn't go all out and pulverize you outright. She's scolding you, treating you like a cute little brother, and she has to avoid accidentally killing someone by getting too serious. So she only hits weak spots. She jabs precisely at the painful parts with her fingertips and toes.
With my hands and feet bound, I'm defenseless against the attacks, and Jeongyeon punishes me mercilessly by stabbing only the spots that hurt like hell.
Damn, can't a person set up a blind date between siblings? Families are supposed to get along, right? "Family harmony makes everything prosper," or whatever.
"You little shit... temple strike!"
"Dahang!"
Of course, that doesn't apply to Lee Jeongyeon. I keep taking her temple strike barrage with my body, and she sticks her tongue out at me in disbelief.
"You tough bastard... not even using Tekkai?"
"T-Tekkai? What's that...?"
"What? You haven't seen One Piece?"
I haven't. I'm not really into comics, and I don't have the time anyway. Moon Juhee nags me to watch sometimes, and I've seen a few episodes, but I dunno if it's even that fun. Maybe her taste in comics is just hipster bait.
"You punk... you dare not watch One Piece? And you call yourself a high schooler?"
"I don't have to watch it... Have you, sis?"
"Nah? Truth is, I haven't either. Temple strike!"
"Gahhh! Your temple strikes hurt the most, sis!"
After that intimate body conversation with Jeongyeon, we head back into the cafe.
"You punk... behave yourself."
"Eugh...."
In the meantime, Junwoo had ordered an Americano while waiting for us and asks Jeongyeon, who dragged me out.
"What happened out there?"
"Noth... ing... at all!"
"Alright, then. Good."
I desperately want to argue against Jeongyeon's words, but I zip it to avoid unnecessary drama. Anyway, time to change the subject. I lured them here under the pretense of a blind date, but my real intentions lie elsewhere.
"Since we're at a cafe, let's order something and talk."
Jeongyeon skipped her stream to come out of her room, so she can't just leave now. She agrees reluctantly and orders a strawberry cookie cream frappe.
"Sis, you drink that stuff? You always get Americano..."
"That's for weight control. I like sweets too. Gotta have some after the stress you caused me."
Jeongyeon stubbornly orders her strawberry cream whatever, and I pull out the cold water I brought from home.
"You broke or something?"
"Yep."
"Tch... fine, I'll spot you a coffee."
In the end, Junwoo hyung shows me some kindness, so instead of nursing my bottled water alone, I get to have a coffee.
"Oppa, why'd you come? Dragged out for a blind date too?"
"Nah, she just told me to come to the cafe."
"Who just shows up when called... not a total pushover."
"I had nothing better to do. Plus, he doesn't call without a reason. Figured there must be something."
Jeongyeon looks exasperated, but just like Junwoo said, I called them for a reason. I clear my throat to grab their attention and dive into the main topic.
"Ahem. The reason I called you both today is none other than to consult and discuss a certain interpersonal issue."
"You hit on another married woman?"
"No."
And to be precise, it wasn't hitting on a married woman—it was that she turned out to be married after I hit on her. Worlds apart legally and criminally. The former's straight-up adultery.
"Not that. It's about Lara."
"Lara... ah~ I get the gist."
Our in-house ghost Lee Jeongyeon seems to have caught on, and surprisingly, Junwoo knows too—he fiddles solemnly with his empty glass. Junwoo stays quiet, while Jeongyeon, arms crossed, opens her mouth with a puzzled look.
"I hadn't heard Lara sing before? But her vocalization and voice sounded decent enough, so I figured she could hold her own..."
"What'd you think when you heard her?"
"I was shocked at how bad she was. How do you take that kind of raw material and sing like that? I thought maybe you edited it on purpose."
Jeongyeon echoes my exact assessment. I nod a hundred times in agreement and glance at Junwoo. He noticed my look but says nothing—probably the same reaction. Or worse.
Jeongyeon keeps ripping into Lara's singing. Midway, her eyebrows twitch like the song replayed in her head.
"Not sure if I should say this, but she sang like shit. Yeah, like shit. Not just bad—straight-up shitty."
"Mm-hmm."
"I know it's rude, but damn. How'd she even busk with that skill?"
"But it was funny, right?"
"I cracked up for ten straight minutes after the first song. That's art."
Jeongyeon gives a thumbs-up, and I nod back. Junwoo chimes in cluelessly.
"I wouldn't go that far..."
But he's always bad at reading the room, so I let it slide. After Jeongyeon glares her brother into submission, she turns back to me about Lara.
"Looks like it blew up big time. Good that it's popular, but is Lara okay? It was hilarious, but turning into an internet laughingstock... some comments were cringey."
Even she frowns slightly bringing it up. If she's worried too, she's hung up on the same issue. Perfect— that's exactly the topic.
"Yeah, that's what I wanted to talk about. Wondering if Lara's really fine..."
Jeongyeon listens intently, and Junwoo adds,
"...Just ask her yourself."
"Oppa, shut up? Please."
I thumbs-up Jeongyeon and continue.
"I did ask her, but she brushed it off like no big deal. Way too calm."
"Hmm... isn't calm good?"
"She's reacting way blander than you'd expect."
Online, she's getting roasted as tone-deaf, hit with personal attacks and mockery. Call it clownery, but it's just a punching bag. Even normal people struggle with that—imagine a regular high school girl dealing with it. There has to be some ripple effect. Her total lack of reaction feels suspicious.
"That's the vibe. So, consulting and analyzing her psyche a bit..."
"Hmm..."
They mull it over. Junwoo's her teacher, fine—but even Jeongyeon, with our solid rapport, ponders deeply. Finally, she nods.
"So... you made her a laughingstock, set yourself up to get hate, and now the victim shows no emotional turmoil, so you're uneasy?"
"Don't phrase it like that—makes me sound like trash."
"You are trash. Right?"
"...Uh."
Something's off, overly exaggerated, but I can't argue. Maybe Jeongyeon nailed my feelings. Does long-term martial arts let you read minds?
"You psycho piece-of-shit bastard. Thought you were nuts, but not this level."
"Sis, like I keep saying, all musicians... ah, whatever. Point is, something's off. You can tell it's fishy!"
"That she didn't snap?"
"Yeah!... wait, that sounds weird too, but yeah."
Jeongyeon and I clutch our heads. Quietly listening Junwoo gets the floor from her.
"You got her permission to upload, right? Warned her this could happen?"
"Obviously."
"Then maybe she's just good at self-objectifying. Knows she sucks, so no big reaction."
"Kinda, but her usual behavior doesn't match."
If she could brush it off, she'd do it daily. But Lara's hypersensitive about her singing. Pride or ego—whatever, she rebels against admitting it despite knowing.
Reducing that to "good self-awareness" feels too simplistic.
"Low self-esteem?"
Junwoo adds his take.
"Seen it in my classes. They fear judgment but shrug off hate. Comes from rock-bottom self-evaluation. Start low, nothing fazes you."
"Doesn't fit Lara's personality."
"Doesn't show on the surface. Like you said, maybe suffering inside... anyway, watch her close. Go off the rails, and it'll last forever."
Her words sink in deep. We chat a bit more, but no solid conclusions—just ends fruitlessly.
"Wanna grab food with oppa...? You sure you won't join?"
"Nah. Got somewhere to be early tonight."
I decline and head to my destination. Still time before late night? I check and take the familiar path.
My destination isn't home. Not uncharted territory either—I follow the familiar road to the meeting spot. It's a bit deserted, which might draw eyes, but whatever. It's evening when I arrive; moths chase streetlights instead of the moon. Chilly night air. I grab two hot drinks and head to a nearby park bench.
There's a familiar girl waiting. I greet her, draped in her baggy hoodie like a blanket.
"...Sorry, Lara. Wait long?"
"If I did? What you got for me?"
"I'd give you my hot chocolate instead of the yuja tea."
"Then nah, I just got here."
"Phew, good. This stuff ain't cheap."
I hand her the yuja tea and sit. Doesn't like chocolate? Another fun fact today. She sips; I pick words carefully instead of speaking first.
"So, why'd you call? Must be a reason this late."
"Just wanted to grab a drink together."
"Huh? Thought maybe a confession."
Too bad for Lara—no such thing. I like older women. Plus, too busy for flirting now. I shake my head at her wistful look.
"...Here to worry about me?"
Her question widens my eyes a bit. Am I bad at lying? I scan her face. Tried for a comfy vibe, but night might've hidden my smile. Works for me—eases into the talk.
"Yeah. Figured you might be struggling. Heard you're fine, but... you're young, y'know?"
"We're the same age. Acting all grown-up 'cause you've seen some shit?"
"What? I'm mature for my age, sure—but today I'm here as your friend?"
"What friend? When'd that happen, Mr. Music Genius~?"
"C'mon. We're friends by now. Ask your bestie Seonggwang—anything bugging you lately?"
Lara snickers, exhales with a faint smile.
"Nah. Told you—stuff like this doesn't hurt."
"...Okay."
"If it did, I'd have quit flute ages ago. Got way more hate back then for sucking."
"True. Classical kids are brutal. My piano teacher was too."
"Right? So don't worry. I'm used to it."
She laughs it off casually. Chilly, but mid-May still. Her unforced smile doesn't look fake.
"Sigh, hate to say it, but better they laugh than hate on you for sucking."
"Even if your singing's just comedy fodder?"
"It was unsingable before—now at least they like it this way? It's attention on the song. No need to see it all negative."
I nod. Yeah, her old stuff was that bad. This is progress, shockingly.
"Actually pumps me up. Wonder what reaction I'll get when I improve."
"...Yeah, me too."
"See? Leaning into it could be the twist—make it cooler, right?"
Maybe view it positively. Could be me overreacting. She's smiling; even if hiding hurt, maybe my prying's wrong.
"I'm fine. Really, don't stress. It's what I wanted. Not forced—I chose vocals."
"..."
"Thanks for worrying. Tomorrow's... Sunday. See you at practice."
Lara stands, waves from the bench. Watching her back, that flawlessly bright smile, I wonder: Is this the path she wanted?
Not a huge doubt. Whatever—long as she makes music, I'm good. She says she's fine; who am I to argue.
I chug the cold drink can and head home. My studio, simplified.