The Missing Drummer
“No, it is an anime song, but still!”
“Hey, Cha Seoha, if you’re going to argue, do it with an instrument.”
Heo Junseong repeated the exact words I’d just used, and for some reason, getting hit with that from a kid only made me more irritated.
“Ah! Come to think of it, you don’t have an instrument, do you? So you can’t even refute me?”
“Ahahaha!”
“Hahaha!”
“The guitar wins!”
“It won!”
The crowd reacted fiercely to Heo Junseong’s jab.
“My voice is an instrument too, you know? I can just say it.”
“Ooooooh!”
“Whoa! Cool!”
“As expected of the vocalist!”
“The vocalist wins!”
The little banter session went on for a while longer, and only then did we finally finish introducing the band in earnest.
Heo Junseong had the most lines by far, but ironically, the biggest cheer during the introduction went to Kim Jihoo.
The cool, polished type really was popular.
We were down to our final song.
Unlike the others, this one had been chosen with a very specific purpose, so we had to nail it especially hard.
As we’d confirmed during the performance, quite a few people were filming us here and there.
This next song absolutely had to make it online somewhere.
That was the only way we’d get to keep doing stages this fun with Kang Min.
“Then we’ll play our last song, and after that, we’ll be taking our leave.”
The audience’s anticipation and disappointment drifted through the air, and then the pre-recorded drum sound burst out.
While I waited for my part during the intro, listening to the others play, a thought flashed through my head.
I did think our meeting was fate, but fate doesn’t always show up all at once, does it?
We’d just have to increase the number of attempts.
“We’ll be performing here next week too—no, every week—so please come see us again!”
At that, the audience exploded into cheers.
But Heo Junseong, Lee Doyeong, and Kim Jihoo reacted very differently.
“Hey! Who gave you permission?!”
“Thank you!”
After finishing the last song, we came back for an encore and played the first song once more.
The students in the front came up to us asking for photos and our SNS accounts.
I handled their requests with practiced ease, while Lee Doyeong and Kim Jihoo posed for pictures with stiff, awkward expressions.
And surprisingly, Heo Junseong stayed quiet.
Actually, no, maybe that wasn’t surprising in this situation.
He was probably just pretending he wasn’t interested, trying hard to act dignified.
After the fan service ended, the guys started packing up the equipment.
Being the vocalist really was nice. There was less to do.
“Ha…”
Heo Junseong let out a sigh in the middle of coiling up a cable.
“What is it?”
“I want to do it again.”
“Haha, looks like you had fun.”
“And I want to get even better.”
That kind of improvement would come soon enough.
Lee Doyeong followed up on Heo Junseong’s regretful voice.
“I wish I’d done a little better too.”
“You were good, what are you talking about?”
Right after Lee Doyeong finished, Kim Jihoo chimed in to encourage him.
“I underestimated you, Lee Doyeong. And you too, Heo Junseong.”
“What’s this? You’re actually complimenting people?”
“I compliment people who deserve it. The problem is there aren’t many who do.”
“Wow, so cold.”
“Thanks, Jihoo. Still, I can’t help wanting more. You, Junseong, and Seoha were all amazing today. But I still don’t think I’m anywhere near that level yet.”
“Hey, Lee Doyeong, you ran out there and played bass like a legend. What are you so worried about? Just keep doing exactly this, okay? You were cool!”
“That was only possible because Seoha helped me.”
Lee Doyeong looked at me as he said it.
I’d tossed him into the deep end without warning, and yet he didn’t complain—he only met it with sincerity. That alone made me grateful.
“Exactly. The reason we were able to do well was because Cha Seoha planned the stage so well.”
As expected of Kim Jihoo. He could analyze even this moment.
“Heo Junseong too, and Lee Doyeong too. You all knew you’d grow this way when you locked in the setlist, right? Plus the way the crowd reacted.”
“Well, I won’t deny it.”
“Wow… Kim Jihoo, you saw all that?”
“As expected, Jihoo is amazing.”
“What I’m saying is, from now on, you should listen to Cha Seoha and keep making better stages.”
From now on.
Given Kim Jihoo’s personality, he’d leave the band without looking back if he ever decided he didn’t like something.
And yet that was the word he used.
“Yeah, let’s do even better next time!”
“Yep! I’ll practice way more before then!”
“Whatever you say.”
I was glad they’d had fun.
For me, it hadn’t been such a huge deal, but for them, it must have been a sudden, unforgettable experience.
And because they’d followed me through it so well, I was grateful—and proud of how well they’d pulled it off.
“Yeah, let’s keep getting better from here!”
Before the performance began, they’d all been nervous, unable to calm their trembling hearts.
I’d reassured them that what they were feeling wasn’t anxiety but excitement, though honestly, I hadn’t been sure myself.
But seeing how happy they were now, I started to think that maybe that feeling really had been excitement after all.
We’d rented the equipment for the busking at Hyeon-ui Ullim.
When Mr. Jang Deokcheol heard that we were busking, he’d let us borrow the gear for free.
That meant we were starting to owe him a whole lot.
“Sir, thanks for letting us use it.”
“So, how was the performance?”
“It was all right.”
“Really? You look happy, so I guess everyone did well.”
The guys were still buzzing as they chattered about what songs they wanted to try next time.
They were probably all thinking about the crowd they’d seen today.
“If you ever perform again, come borrow it. It’s not like I’m using it, so feel free.”
“Thank you. I’ll bring something tasty for you next time.”
“No need. Just keep working hard.”
What a veteran, helping out newcomers so selflessly.
I was grateful, but I also found myself wondering how much fun he was having watching us.
We’d have to grow more so it’d be even more entertaining to watch.
“So, are you all heading home now?”
“No, we’re going to grab hamburgers at the place right in front of here.”
“The shop right across the way, huh? Eat well and head home safely.”
“Yes, sir. Take care.”
“By the way, are you boys not looking for more friends?”
“Friends? What kind of friends?”
“Oh, never mind. Just get home safely.”
“Ah… yes, sir. Take care.”
After the boys left, Jang Deokcheol sank into thought.
Could they really improve that much already?
When he’d first seen Heo Junseong, he’d thought the boy was only a little better than your average high school guitarist.
But in the recent busking performance, Junseong had shown a kind of star quality that most professionals would envy.
He tended to show off a bit, but for a band guitarist, that was exactly the right instinct.
Lee Doyeong was going to become a fine artist.
He was the kind of kid who could put meaning into every single note, the kind who knew how to think.
He might have seemed a little lacking in confidence, but that was only because he was careful.
Just like choosing the right word before speaking, he was searching for the right expression.
That hesitation would grow shorter with time, and when that happened, Lee Doyeong would be a monster.
Kim Jihoo’s maturity didn’t even need to be said.
Lee Doyeong and Heo Junseong were excellent, but they still weren’t at the point where they could catch up to him.
And then there was Cha Seoha at the center of it all.
To Jang Deokcheol, that high school band was one that would one day leave a deep mark on Korea’s band scene, but they still weren’t complete yet.
They were missing a drummer.
As he was thinking that, someone opened the door to Hyeon-ui Ullim and stepped inside.
“Oh, you’re back?”
“Yes.”
“So, how was it?”
“Where are they now?”
If it hadn’t been for Heo Junseong, I would’ve ordered something else.
“Doyeong, did you get the Coke as zero sugar?”
“No?”
…Hm.
Cha Seoha let out a short sigh, but since everyone had worked hard today, I decided to let it slide without saying anything.
Lee Doyeong, Kim Jihoo, and Heo Junseong kept talking about the performance even while chewing through their hamburgers.
They praised one another, pointed out the parts that had fallen short, and kept making promises to do even better next time.
After we’d been talking for a while, the conversation turned like this.
“Ha, I want to do it again.”
“Doyeong, that was your first performance, right?”
“Yeah, it was. I had no idea it would be this fun.”
“Feeling more confident now?”
“Thanks to you guys.”
There were so many moments packed into Lee Doyeong’s answer of “thanks to you guys.”
From the moment we asked him to join the band, to the times we played him good songs.
From practicing together to every moment today when we pulled him to the center of the stage.
All of it flashed through his mind as he savored the joy he felt now, and the confidence he’d found again.
“Heo Junseong, you’ve performed before, right?”
“Nope.”
“What do you mean no? You did busking before.”
“You call that a performance? This was a performance! I was reborn today as a man who’d never performed before!”
“Hey, that’s—ugh. So embarrassing. Lower your voice.”
Between the dramatic pose straight out of a manga and that huge voice, Kim Jihoo was genuinely embarrassed by Heo Junseong.
“I think I get it now. Before, I was only focused on playing, but now I finally understand what it means to be in sync.”
“That’s right. You grow little by little like that.”
With today’s performance, the members had learned a lot.
Objectively, there were still plenty of things lacking, but for now, this was enough.
We were still an unfinished band, which meant all that was left for us was growth.
And today’s successful memory would become the fuel that kept us moving forward.
“Hey, Cha Seoha, but shouldn’t we start looking for a drummer soon? The sound was definitely a little thin, which was a shame.”
“Seoha, do you have someone in mind this time?”
“Someone in mind, huh…”
There was only one person Cha Seoha could think of.
I didn’t have a clue where or how I was supposed to find Kang Min.
At the very least, it would be nice if I knew what he was doing now.
If only he were still in school, but I remembered that he’d dropped out.
For now, there was no easy answer.
I’d have to think about it slowly.
“Not yet. Anyway, Doyeong.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you planning to finish all those fries?”
“Yeah, do you want some, Seoha?”
“No, it’s not that. Just… eat a lot.”
It felt like our long day was finally coming to an end.
That was, until someone suddenly appeared and spoke to us.
“Excuse me.”
“You…”
I nearly flipped over from the shock.
It felt like the hamburger I’d been eating had lodged in my throat, but I had to stay calm.
“Who are you…?”
“Oh, I’m the one who was watching the performance earlier.”
“Ah, I see. Hello.”
I don’t know Kang Min.
I have to act like I don’t know him.
But this was my mistake.
“Who are you? Cha Seoha, seriously…”
“Seoha, that’s not really okay.”
“You picked a guy like that as your leader?”
The reactions from the three of them were strange.
“It’s Kang Min!”
Had these guys known Kang Min all along?