Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Black History
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Black history.
Originally a term from Turn A Gundam, referring to the countless wars humanity waged. But through internet communities, it evolved into a word for embarrassing pasts or failed moments you'd rather forget.
For example.
Sappy posts on Cyworld, the ancient relic of the elders.
Sentimental feeds uploaded to Instagram at dawn.
Texts sent to an ex while drunk.
Bluffing to look cool.
Those shameful, embarrassing incidents that suddenly pop into your head right before sleep, making you kick off the covers. That's black history.
Truly, pasts you want to erase.
No matter how perfect a person is, black history is inevitable. Naturally, I have plenty of my own.
......Or maybe.
A bit more than most?
See, I started training as an idol trainee at a relatively young age compared to others. And since I had some talent, I got high on all sorts of delusions back then.
And this "high" is the number one culprit behind creating black history.
Just thinking about them makes my skin crawl and forces me to kick off the blankets—endless cringeworthy words and actions. But after coming back from the military, I grew up, those incidents decreased, and I thought no more black history would be made.
"You do that performance every night, right? I heard it on a rainy day, and it was so good."
......I thought.
"Ughh, ahh ahh."
I let out unintelligible sounds and kicked the sand by the seaside.
It's not embarrassing if others hear me practicing songs. Back in trainee days, I practiced in front of people all the time.
And my skills aren't so poor that I'd be ashamed if someone listened.
The problem is on rainy days.
The songs I sang after getting tipsy on makgeolli.
I wasn't blackout drunk or anything. But I started singing in a pretty buzzed state, swept up in the sound of rain hitting the tent and that unique rainy-day vibe, putting on all sorts of wild shows.
And she heard all of it.
Aaaargh.
Just kill me.
Kill my memories, or kill everyone else's!!!
Sprinkle some Moonlight Sword and turn them all to sand!
"Oh, Mr. Author?"
As shame and humiliation surged over me and I flailed about, a familiar voice called out. Lifting my head, there was Lee Si-yeon, the representative, dressed in a suit even in this drizzly weather.
"Fancy running into you here."
I quickly stood up, pretending nothing was wrong, as she approached with a kind smile.
Truth be told, I was still mortified and wanted to die.
But I couldn't show it in front of someone else.
"Yeah, small world. You here for the event?"
"Yes. It's the final day, so I have to be present. There's a staff dinner tonight too. What about you, Mr. Author?"
"Kim Jin-gyu, the director, asked to meet. And he invited me to High New's performance."
High New's show wraps up this summer arts festival and operates on a first-come, first-served basis. To get good seats, you have to line up at dawn where the performance is held.
But thanks to my connection with Director Kim Jin-gyu, I got front-row seats—the spots reserved for invitees and VIPs.
Jealous, fans?
That's what connections are for.
"Ah, why don't you join the staff dinner then, Mr. Author?"
"Pardon?"
"A lot of people want to meet you. Not just our staff, but many artists at the festival became fans of the mural you painted."
My fans, huh.
For a moment, I was tempted.
"Oh, and right—I don't know much about it, but some people are waiting for your performance?"
But at the rep's follow-up words, I had to shake my head.
"No, I think I have something to do tonight."
Someday, maybe I can laugh it off as "That's how it was back then" or "Funny misunderstanding," hahaha.
But not now.
If someone said "I loved your rainy-day performance!" right now, who knows what I'd do. It'd be so cringy and embarrassing I might scream "Waaah!" and bolt from the dinner.
"Oh, what a shame."
"Haha, sorry about that."
She seemed genuinely disappointed, which pricked my conscience a bit, but I brushed it off with a smile. After some more chit-chat, I saw her off since she had to go, and was about to wander the festival.
"Oh, right, Mr. Author."
The rep, grabbing her bag, called me back.
"Yes?"
"I'll contact you soon."
"Pardon? Oh, sure. Got it."
Contact soon?
What's she calling about?
She said it with a suspiciously knowing smile, leaving me nodding blankly.
Town center.
The market hosting the summer arts festival.
Popup stores filling empty spaces, stalls lining the paths to the market. Plus light participatory art experiences and board games for casual fun.
Nodding at the bustling summer arts festival, far better organized than I expected, packed with people.
Hmm, impressive.
No wonder it's the most popular festival in a rural area like this.
Recalling what this village's NPC, Jo A-young, told me, I bit into the chewy cookie from a popup store. Ah, this is surprisingly tasty.
Made with marshmallows, cereal, and dried fruit—obviously not great for the body. But the flavor is top-notch. The recipe doesn't seem hard; maybe try making it at home?
"Want to try painting on the mural?"
Munching on strawberry chewy cookie while browsing, someone hawking in front of a huge canvas-wall called out to me.
"Mural?"
"Yeah, participatory mural. Draw whatever you want and take a photo."
A mural, huh.
Perfect, since that's my specialty.
"Sure, I'll give it a shot."
After telling the staff, I headed to the mural covered in all sorts of drawings: tiny handprints like kids made, scribbles more than art, and some surprisingly high-quality pieces.
It really felt like a "mural made by everyone," which was pretty nice.
"Draw freely in any open space. Tools are over there."
"Got it."
The tools were just pencils, colored pencils, markers, or paints for hand stamps. Makes sense—not ideal for lacquer or pro paints in a shared space.
Wondering what to draw, I picked a pencil and started on a whale shark. Not as huge as the one on my house wall, just about 20cm.
As I drew, I thought about the song I made recently.
The one I played on the rainy day—ugh, wait. Not the performance, the first song I sang. Shaking off the sudden black history flashback, only the song came to mind.
The song itself is good.
Suits me perfectly, I guess.
The issue is the other instruments. In short, the "arrangement"—what sounds to layer on is tricky. Arrangement is as crucial as composition, so I have to consider all sorts of instruments.
Nothing clicks.
I could go safe with band sound: guitar, drums, bass, synth, keyboard. But that feels lacking somehow.
It's not for selling—it's the music I want to make. I want something more to my taste, an earworm impact with a special sound.
"Looks good?"
Lost in those thoughts while drawing, it was done before I knew. Since it was just pencil and time-limited, no hyper-detailed like the wall mural.
Still, pretty decent for pencil alone.
"You really like whale sharks."
Nodding at my finished whale shark in the corner, a familiar voice spoke. Turning slightly, there was the village NPC girl, Jo A-young.
Wearing hanbok now.
"Heading to a contest or something?"
Even to a hanbok noob like me, it looked like expensive, luxurious hanbok. I wiped my hands with the provided wet wipes and asked.
"Why? Do I look pretty?"
She spun once in place at my words.
Her yellow skirt flared out.
"The hanbok looks pretty."
"Just the hanbok? I put a lot of effort into my hair too."
"So, a contest?"
"No, not a contest. I'm performing tonight."
"Performing?"
High New's stage?
"Yeah. Locals from Namhae Island go on first."
"Didn't know that."
"You coming to watch? I practiced super hard for today."
"Since I'm already here, yeah."
"See you at 5 then, oppa."
With that—gotta go practice now—she vanished. Alone again, I enjoyed the summer festival until my meetup with Director Kim Jin-gyu.
5 p.m.
"Mr. Author, over here!"
Heading to the performance venue, Woohyun waved lightly at the bright voice of Kim Jin-gyu calling him and went over.
"I didn't keep you waiting, did I? So many people."
"Just finishing the closing remarks."
"Good."
"Come on in."
At Kim Jin-gyu's words, Woohyun nodded and entered the outdoor stage with him, heading to the front-row seats reserved for VIPs.
"Whoa, way more people than I thought."
The market was crowded, but the venue was insane. From dawn-lineup seat-holders to those standing at the back, unable to snag seats.
Did Namhae Island have this many people?
"The festival draws not just Namhae locals but folks from nearby Gyeongnam too. And it's the finale today—High New's show, drone show—so people come from afar."
Woohyun nodded at Kim Jin-gyu's explanation.
A top-tier girl group like High New would pack the place with fans alone.
Plus the festival's quality draws casual visitors.
"Enjoy the festival?"
"Yeah, high quality."
"Lee Si-yeon, the rep, is talented. Namhae County pushes tourism hard. Oh, the German Beer Festival and Horticultural Art Festival in German Village this fall are worth seeing—check them out later."
"German Village, huh."
A bit far from where Woohyun lived, so he'd never been. But he'd heard: drama shoots, variety shows, pension area—super popular.
"I'll go if I get the chance."
Not big on Germany, but German sausage and beer? Very interested. Tried it once for an indie band gig—artistically delicious.
"Oh, and starting next month, they're filming a variety show there. Something about idols and celebs as pension owners hosting guests in a healing format."
"Sounds chaotic with all the crowds."
Still, a bit away from German Village—maybe okay?
—Alright, let's start the performances proper.
While Woohyun chatted idly with Kim Jin-gyu, the remarks ended, and the first performer took the stage.
A woman in luxurious yellow hanbok.
The village NPC Woohyun knew well.
Jo A-young.
Wearing not her usual expression but one deeply serious and focused, she held a rare instrument in her arms.
'Gayageum?'
Placing the gayageum on its stand, Jo A-young closed her eyes, exhaled, then began playing under the spotlight.
"Huh?"
But the piece was unexpected.
'This is pop?'
He'd assumed traditional music for gayageum. Contrary to Woohyun's expectation, she played a hip, super-famous pop song.
Arranged to suit the gayageum.
"Well, now."
An imaginative gayageum performance—not just plucking, but using a bow too. Woohyun's eyes sparkled at the insane showmanship.
This sound...
I could use it.