Chapter 12

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Translator: MadScientist

Chapter: 12

Chapter Title: Group Project Catastrophe

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We had roughly a week until the main stage recording.

In that time, I had an obligation to bust my ass raising the team's skills as much as possible.

Because if we slacked off, thinking we were already good enough, the filming crew would run out of footage to shoot.

In the process, I asked the production team if we could get help from outsiders, and of course, they said yes.

To be honest, our team's ensemble playing was already pretty solid.

Not because we were some hastily thrown-together group.

Blooming had managed to handle the song decently after just two days of practice, even if it wasn't perfect.

Sure, pro-level performance would be ideal, but honestly, it's not easy, and Singer Star doesn't demand that from contestants anyway.

To push the team further at this point, the only real answer was improving each individual's skills.

That's why I decided to rope in Park Hansu.

I asked him for personal lessons on electric guitar—the most unstable instrument in the band.

But in the process, something a bit unexpected happened.

"Looks like my bandmates got interested too... What do you think about them all joining?"

"...Sounds good to me?"

And just like that, the entire Black Canary lineup was on board.

For the filming's dramatic flair, we'd deliberately kept the Blooming members in the dark about Black Canary.

"Hello."

'Why is this uncle acting so politely all of a sudden? It doesn't suit him.'

The instruments blaring noisily through the practice room fell silent as Park Hansu made his entrance with an uncharacteristically polite greeting.

Park Heesu, who majored in bass at her arts high school, nearly dropped her instrument upon seeing the real-life leader of world-class band Black Canary.

"P-Park Hansu... sir?"

"Sir? Come on..."

"I scouted him. I happened to find out he runs a music shop near our nursery."

Anyone in the know already had a rough idea of my connection to Park Hansu.

Because he'd posted my photo on his SNS.

But it wasn't public knowledge, so the Blooming girls apparently had no clue.

The uncle dragged over a plastic chair from the corner of the practice room and straddled it backward.

I shot Park Heesu a look.

If they were serious about the band, this was a hurdle they'd have to clear eventually.

Better to get their preventive shot from the legend's ear and call it a day.

As soon as practice started, Park Hansu's brows furrowed.

The song flowed on the funky groove I'd arranged, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but to his eyes, it must've been riddled with flaws.

Coming from a guy who's played with the world's top bands, a high school girl group like Blooming probably sounded amateurish.

Before the first verse even ended, he raised his hand.

"Stop. Hey, drums."

Kim Seoli, on drums, froze.

"Are you fighting the beat? The metronome's dying here while you're running off solo. Hit that kick harder. Your footwork right now is elementary school level."

His brutal critique spared neither bass nor guitar.

Even Park Heesu, proud of her arts high school pedigree, bit her lip at his blunt remark that her playing was too straightforward and boring.

'She's not quite ready for variations yet since the song isn't fully polished...'

By my standards, Park Heesu's performance was flawless, and Hansu seemed to agree, as he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠didn't nitpick her skills further.

He was probably leaning into a strict mentor vibe for the cameras.

Yoo Seolha, watching, turned pale waiting for her turn.

"And you."

"Huh? Me?"

But Park Hansu suddenly pointed at me.

"Why are you holding a violin?"

"Someone has to play it, and I'm the only one who can... Plus, I'm good at violin!"

"No matter how I look at it, just play the MR track for violin and sub in on guitar instead. You need to handle sub-vocals too—violin's gotta be awkward."

Jo Naeun, gripping her guitar, flinched.

It was a direct hit at Jo Naeun, but the reasoning was sound.

Truth be told, she was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the weakest link in Blooming on electric guitar.

That's a big reason I'd brought in Park Hansu personally—to boost her skills.

A master's single piece of advice can spark more growth than strumming strings a hundred times.

It might not help much for the stage in two days, but it'd be huge for her future as a guitarist.

"Uncle, ease up on the sisters and get to the point. Can we improve Naeun-unnie's playing in the short term?"

"For this song? Maybe."

"Oh?"

Park Hansu crunched his candy loudly, swallowed, and approached Jo Naeun. She sucked in a breath under his intimidating aura, gripping the guitar neck tight.

"Hey, you. Loosen your fingers. You think you're snapping rubber bands like some kid? Crush the strings like that, and the tone dies."

He practically snatched the beat-up Fender from her hands.

Then he roughly twisted a few amp knobs and unleashed a stroke.

Ching-!

A sharp, rhythmic sound sliced through the practice room air.

Way more alive and funky than the MIDI track I'd prepped.

Naeun's jaw dropped. The instrument that sounded dull in her hands came roaring to life the moment he touched it.

"This song's core is 16th-note cutting. You're killing the sound trying too hard to match the beat. You don't match the beat—you ride it. Here, try again."

He stood behind her, adjusting her wrist angle like a golf pro giving a lesson.

"Relax your wrist. Sharper picking. Not hitting the strings—scrape down. Go."

Naeun started playing again, hands shaking. With each touch from him, the awkward edge in her sound started fading.

"Wha... huh?"

She was shocked too. Just tweaking wrist angle and pick depth brought the groove roaring to life.

Park Hansu watched, arms crossed, then nudged the sub-guitar by my bag with his foot.

"Seo Siyeon, quit sitting around and grab it. Guide her while locking in bass and drums from the side."

"Fine, geez."

I slung on the guitar and stood next to Naeun, pretending to grumble.

One-on-one coaching from rock legend Park Hansu, plus guiding play from the song's creator. Could there be a more luxurious practice setup?

"Naeun-ssi, mute the second string more cleanly like uncle said. Leakage there kills the feel."

She nodded fiercely, biting her lip at my note. Her eyes burned with fierce determination to seize this chance, replacing earlier embarrassment.

The watching Yoo Seolha and others caught the fire, picking up their instruments again.

Black Canary members arrived later and each took one under their wing for instrument guidance.

They seemed thrilled—it'd been ages since ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they'd appeared on Korean TV.

The camera director watched the whole scene buzzing with excitement.

Even after years on Singer Star, this was a first for him.

I had a feeling this footage would stir up a storm if it aired.

The practice room boot camp footage hit the official YouTube channel right after editing, under the banner of "sneak peek."

The title was clickbait gold.

The results were as expected. Views hit 500k in an hour, and every community exploded.

Black Canary and Singer Star dominated portal search trends and community hot posts with the teaser everywhere.

While Kang Junhyeong smirked over his ad budget savings, the round 2 main stage filming day arrived.

The first act was Joo Jinwoo's team—top pick for winners from the start.

"Uh... nothing much to say. Did you all even practice?"

"Truth is, lyrics delivery... has no place on a stage like this."

"Jinwoo's vocals were solid as ever, but leading the team? That's a deduction."

Joo Jinwoo's team etched a different kind of legend.

The birth of the infamous GIF that would later circulate as "Group Project Catastrophe.avi."