Our Opening Act
“I have arrived!”
A few days after I asked Kang Min to help me line up a gig, all of us were gathered in the rehearsal room.
Kang Min, who came in last, made a dramatic entrance, practically frothing at the mouth with excitement.
Seeing how confident he looked, I figured it must have gone well.
“Did you land it?”
“To you, I... was it believe me?”
Was he seriously giving up on being Korean at this point?
And he had never said anything like that in Japanese to begin with.
“At least talk in a way people can understand. I have no idea what you’re saying.”
Heo Junseong clicked his tongue in annoyance.
“Heh-heh, can’t you hear the voice of God?!”
“Whoa, that guy is way too high.”
“Oh no, what are we going to do about Min...”
“Someone beat him up and fix him.”
“What is he even saying, seriously?”
Even I was starting to lose control of the situation.
If he kept getting more and more unhinged like this, what were we supposed to do in the future?
“Haha! I got us a gig, and it’s the opening act, too!”
“What, seriously? Opening? How’d you pull that off?”
“Well, actually, rookies usually open. The main stage goes to the bands with more experience. The opening slot is usually the least glamorous one.”
“Anyway, good work. As expected, you’re reliable.”
It was our little dream in my previous life... No, back then it had been a dream so huge it felt impossible to reach.
Getting to make it happen so easily in this life left me feeling a little hollow, somehow, but still, it gave our first single album showcase a little more meaning.
We were going to promote Before the OKTOP.
Because now, we could stand on the dream stage we’d once chased in our last life and promote our debut there.
“All right, let’s practice hard!”
“Yeah!”
The setlist had only three songs: Rendezvous, Your Time, and Cruise!!, the most popular of our released tracks.
We’d considered adding a cover song, but in the end we decided to go all in with just our own material and our own skill.
Rehearsals for the show went smoothly.
The individual weaknesses that had once stood out had mostly been patched up, and our overall chemistry was good.
It wasn’t just about rehearsing together, either.
Every day, we imagined the stage and practiced as if it were the real thing—how we’d move in each part, how we’d play, when to twist or step across the stage in one big motion.
And it wasn’t only in the rehearsal room.
Every week, we performed our songs at Banwol Park, and that became excellent practice.
And of course, we didn’t forget this, either.
“We’ll be performing at Hongdae Main Hall at the end of the year, so please come check us out!”
If possible, it was better to have as many people as possible watching.
Broadcast power was strong enough that lately, there had been hundreds of people waiting just to see our busking sessions.
Sure, that buzz would fade before long, but some of those people would undoubtedly become fans of band culture because of this experience.
In any case, we prepared in every sense of the word, and thanks to all that practice, we’d built ourselves a polished performance.
Time moved on faithfully, and before long it was the end of the year—the day of Band Slam had arrived.
For some reason, my heart was pounding.
“Hey, Cha Seoha, you nervous?”
“Huh? No, not really.”
“What’s that? Your face looks weird.”
I brushed off Heo Junseong’s question, but honestly, I was a little tense.
It wasn’t the performance itself that was making me shake.
Band Slam had been our first dream in my previous life—the dream I’d stolen away from us.
The thought that we could realize it again had me far too worked up to calm down.
This is... excitement.
“Spare me with the whole excitement nonsense... Just don’t screw up and sing well.”
“What’s there to worry about?”
That kind of trembling was something I’d only felt once before—when I sang in front of Kim Jihoo for the first time.
After that, we packed up our instruments and met in front of Hongdae’s Main Hall.
“Wow, it’s really been a while.”
Kang Min looked like he was reliving the old days.
“Doyeong, you nervous? Look at him! He’s totally freaking out.”
“N-no, I’m not! This is excitement!”
“Why are there so many excitement maniacs on this team?”
“It’s because of Cha Seoha.”
“Cha Seoha, too? Excitement?”
“Jerusalem?”
“Huh?”
“What?”
“...”
“All right, cut the nonsense and let’s go in.”
The damp, subterranean atmosphere of the basement venue pressed down on us.
It felt completely different from the clean, comfortable stage at the broadcast station.
I hadn’t been here often, but for some reason it felt like we’d found the real thing.
One team was in the middle of their rehearsal onstage.
In the audience, a few other teams were seated and waiting.
Most of the people there were strangers to me, but I noticed quite a few exchanging greetings with Kang Min.
As expected, Kang Min really was a celebrity in the indie scene.
“Don’t get scared.”
That was when I heard Heo Junseong muttering beside me.
“I’m not scared.”
That was Kim Jihoo answering him.
“Then don’t lose your nerve—!”
“God, you’re so annoying. What are you even muttering about?”
Judging by how much more nonsense he was spewing, Heo Junseong must have been nervous.
We headed toward the console area, exchanging light greetings with the lineups we passed along the way.
“Dohoon!”
“Oh, Min, you’re here. Are you OKTOP?”
“Yeah. Guys, say hello—that’s the host, Dohoon.”
“Hello!”
At Kang Min’s introduction, my friends and I bowed our heads in greeting.
“Nice to meet you. You’re up right after the next rehearsal team. Once they’re done, you can head up.”
“Yes, got it.”
So we took the remaining seats in the audience and waited our turn.
The team rehearsing now looked fairly experienced.
They were really good.
The vocals were strong, and the balance among the instruments was comfortable and seamless.
There was a vibe to their music—something calm but powerfully compelling.
It was music with real depth.
It made me sad, in a way, that a band like that still hadn’t gotten the spotlight they deserved.
“Hey, Kang Min, long time no see.”
“Hello, ma’am. It’s been almost a year, right?”
“That’s right. We saw you at last year’s Band Slam and haven’t since.”
“Oh, was that the last time? Wow, it really has been a while.”
Kang Min cheerfully greeted the acquaintances seated around us.
They caught up on each other’s lives and joked around.
In the band community, there were quite a few people who disliked us, and surely some of them had thrown in their two cents as well.
But well, how else were you supposed to keep working if you weighed every little thing like that?
As long as they smiled at you in person, they were comrades.
Or was that too much of an idol way of thinking?
Maybe band players with big egos really didn’t care much about what other people thought.
I didn’t know everything about the band scene myself, after all.
“All right, thank you for waiting. Next team, OKTOP, please get ready.”
At the host’s voice, we got to our feet.
The rehearsal for a joint band show ran pretty long.
Every team had to set up and tune their instruments.
After ours was done, we decided to grab a meal nearby.
“Don’t you ever get tired of hamburgers?”
“How could this healthy food ever get old?”
“Healthy food?”
“Bread, vegetables, meat, cheese. It’s all healthy food.”
Hearing Heo Junseong’s logic from another dimension made me not want to answer anymore.
“Ugh, I want to get onstage already.”
Lee Doyeong said, slumping over the table.
“That sounds like it’s somewhere between fear and excitement.”
“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. But I’m also scared I’ll mess up.”
“I’m already relaxed after the rehearsal. Did you see people freaking out when they heard my guitar earlier? You saw it, right? Hey, Kim Jihoo, did you see it?”
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t see that? Seriously? Tsk, that’s pathetic.”
“Sure, sure. Then stare all you want.”
As we ran through the rehearsal, I saw it too.
There were plenty of people who looked surprised, and plenty more who watched us with all kinds of different expressions.
I was looking forward to it as much as they were.
When we first met, Lee Doyeong was far behind in skill, and Heo Junseong had no idea how to read a room.
Of course Kim Jihoo had been full of complaints because of that.
If we’d stepped onto this stage with the skills we had back then, we probably would have come down in disgrace.
But now things were different.
I wanted to show them how much we’d grown since then—how many times stronger we’d become.
On that dark, dazzling stage packed with the real thing.
Thirty minutes before the audience was allowed in, a long line had already formed inside Hongdae’s Main Hall.
Some people had brought CDs, hoping to get them signed by the singer they loved.
Others had even brought guitars, eager to have those signed instead.
“Ah, there are still thirty minutes left.”
“Ugh, I can’t wait to see it.”
“This is your first Band Slam, right?”
“Yeah. I just got into the indie scene, and this is my first concert of any kind.”
“Wow, starting with Band Slam? Is that a blessing or a curse?”
The fans waiting for the show clutched their pounding hearts and kept glancing toward the entrance, hoping the time would hurry along.
“But that’s weird.”
“What is?”
“This is my third year coming, and there are way more people here today.”
“Oh, really? Then it used to be smaller?”
“Feels like at least twice as many as last year.”
“Could the band boom be happening?!”
“That might be a bit much.”
“Yeah, fair.”
Band Slam had drawn about 150 people two years ago and around 200 last year.
Compared to that, this year there were far more people waiting in line.
“Well, either way, more audience is a good thing.”
“But can they even all get in?”
“No, I don’t think so...”
The regular fans could only wonder why the audience had suddenly swelled so much.
For some reason, the crowd numbers had jumped dramatically.
After the audience was fully admitted, Band Slam finally began.
The seats were packed so tightly there wasn’t a single inch left, and the air itself seemed saturated with anticipation and excitement.
Music flowed for a long time, while the murmur of the audience drifted through the venue.
Then the music softened, the lights dimmed, and OKTOP appeared.
“Waaaah!”
“It’s OKTOP!”
“You guys are so cool!”
“They’re so handsome!”
The cheers came pouring in the second they recognized our faces.
Since we still had to finish our instrument setup, Cha Seoha grabbed the microphone and started talking.
“Hello. We’re OKTOP.”
“Waaaaah!”
“Wow, does Band Slam usually draw this many people? This is incredible.”
Cha Seoha slowly swept his gaze across the audience.
There wasn’t a hint of nerves on him.
Instead, a relaxed smile filled his face.
“Ah, this is going to be fun. Did everyone eat before coming?”
“Yeeees!”
“Nooo!”
“Hey, how do you come here without eating? You’re about to be running around like crazy.”
“Hahahaha!”
“You must be starving. Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeeees!”
“I’m fine!”
“Well, we already ate hamburgers earlier. You know there’s this one guy here who’s basically a hamburger mantra? The one holding the guitar.”
Cha Seoha pointed at Heo Junseong.
“Hey! What’s wrong with hamburgers!”
Heo Junseong shouted at the top of his lungs without even using a mic.
“Hahahaha!”
“See? If you insult hamburgers, he gets all worked up. He’s weird.”
“Hahahaha!”
If you asked a typical rookie to do a stage talk, they’d probably explain the next song or introduce the band.
Something ordinary like that.
But there was an absurd amount of ease in Cha Seoha’s voice.
He wasn’t just making formal remarks—he was actually talking with the audience.
By then, our instruments were set.
“All right, everyone ready?”
We exchanged looks as OKTOP.
“We’ve released a single! If you enjoy our set today, search the title and give it a listen!”
“Yeeees!”
Cheered on by the audience’s response, Cha Seoha shouted back into the microphone.
“OKTOP! Let’s go! Cruise!!”
Kang Min’s cymbal rang out four heavy, forceful times, and the first song began.