Chapter 15: Drums (2)

Black bobbed hair, a slightly small frame. Dark-colored clothes overall.

“Ho-rang-nim!”

It was Jeong Hyun-ah’s greeting.

The way she stepped in hesitantly suggested she had heard Myeong-jeon’s story.

The other two, however, seemed unaware of why Myeong-jeon had made such a statement.

“Ah, I’m Yoo Seo-ha…”

“Hello~ I’m Choi Lee-seo~.”

“Oh, yes. Hello.”

After acknowledging Lee-seo’s greeting, Seo-ha stared intently at Myeong-jeon.

Knowing all too well what that gaze meant, Myeong-jeon chuckled softly.

‘So, the baseline skill is ordinary, but the only noteworthy thing here is me, huh?’

As someone who had once lived such a shrewd life—though those who live like that rarely consider themselves cunning—Myeong-jeon could easily guess what Yoo Seo-ha was thinking.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Ha Su-yeon
.”

She extended her hand for a handshake.

Seo-ha instinctively tried to accept it with both hands but hesitated.

“Um, the guitar… You’re the one who just played the guitar, right?”

“Well, yes.”

“You seem incredibly skilled. When did you start learning the guitar?”

“Let’s see…”

Myeong-jeon paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer.

Should he say he had been learning for decades?

Or that it hadn’t even been a month?

Both were true, yet both would sound unbelievable.

‘If you think about it, there’s no real difference.’

“Not long ago.”

Myeong-jeon’s answer came out casually.

To Seo-ha, it sounded utterly implausible.

‘How could that even… No, it might actually be true.’

Although she was a drummer and in a different field, she had an ear for recognizing great guitar performances.

To her, that performance was something only legendary guitarists of bands with decades of experience could achieve.

Such a performance couldn’t come from mere effort.

Even geniuses would need decades of dedication to reach that level.

And yet, it had flowed from the fingers of a high school student.

How could she make sense of this?

Even if he claimed to have played for a year, three years, five years, or even ten years, the result would be the same.

No amount of time alone could explain such a performance.

It wasn’t a level that ordinary talent or mere practice could reach.

If it had been just a slightly better-than-average performance, Seo-ha would have burned with jealousy.

Because it would have been within reach.

She could have envied, belittled, and strived to reach it.

But for a level like that? Could she even muster jealousy?

A person living a wasted youth as a wealthy college student might be envied by a self-proclaimed “room general.”

Such envy comes from seeing something attainable yet unachieved.

But who could truly envy someone like Lee Jae-yong?

Would anyone genuinely believe his wealth should have been theirs?

People might say so, but it wouldn’t be envy—it would be more of a claim rooted in ideology.

For this reason, Seo-ha did not feel jealous.

Instead, she wanted to rise alongside Ha Su-yeon.

Though her own talent was modest compared to Ha Su-yeon’s, she believed she could leave her mark on musical history by playing with her.

‘How could I tease her a little…?’

Myeong-jeon’s thoughts, however, were entirely different.

From the start, he had intended to form a band.

Though it wasn’t perfect, he was satisfied with the current members.

Breaking up the band wasn’t on his mind.

And according to Jeong Hyun-ah, the keyboardist was apparently better than him, which meant the overall composition would improve because of her.

But before all that, he thought it wouldn’t hurt to play a little prank.

Besides, since she aimed to go pro, giving her some harsh training to improve her skills might actually be good for her.

“Well, let’s get started, then. Drummer… You’re Seo-ha, right?”

“Yes? Oh, yes.”

“Drums! You’re off again.”

“Drums! Look, you need to adjust your playing to match everyone else. Why are you playing as if you’re alone?”

“No, I’m saying we’re supposed to play together as a band, not as soloists.”

“But they can’t keep up with me…”

“Of course they can’t! They’re beginners! That’s exactly why you’re supposed to adjust your playing to match theirs. Why do you keep running ahead on your own? Even I’m trying to match with them right now. How exactly are you playing this…”

Frustrated, Myeong-jeon muttered under his breath, loud enough for the drummer to hear. The words made her flinch.

Shaking his head, Myeong-jeon said, “Let’s take a break,” and walked out of the room.

Glancing back as he left, he saw Seo-ha’s slightly pale face and Lee-seo following him out with a concerned look.

“Ha Su-yeon, why are you being like this? I mean, her playing isn’t that bad…”

“I know.”

Myeong-jeon instinctively reached for a cigarette but found none. Sighing deeply, he pulled a can of coffee from the vending machine instead.

“Here’s the thing… If I were bad at playing, she would’ve just nitpicked and left. We’d have been stuck dealing with her frustration, going home with nothing but hurt feelings.

“And beyond that, anyone who takes pride in their skill needs to be put in their place early. This is a band, not a group of soloists. Do you know why I’m adjusting my playing to match you all right now?”

“Even so… it feels cruel. Treating her like that over something that hasn’t even happened yet…”

“Let it go,” Lee-seo said lightly.

Myeong-jeon tilted his head, considering her words.

“She has a point,” he admitted.

Judging by Seo-ha’s actions, it was clear she intended to act that way, but technically, she hadn’t done anything wrong yet.

Could he really punish someone just for harboring questionable intentions?

Of course, he could.

But unless it was some unforgivable offense, there was no need to push her so hard.

“Fine… I’ll ease up.”

“Exactly! Don’t be so harsh, okay? She’s technically older than us. Think about how embarrassing it must be for someone older to be scolded like that by a younger person.”

“Isn’t acting that way toward younger people embarrassing in itself?”

Lee-seo burst out laughing at his retort.

Downing the can of coffee in one go, Myeong-jeon tossed it into the trash.

“Anyway, I’m not wrapping this up yet. I have a plan.”

Having dealt with people for decades, Myeong-jeon knew exactly how to handle a teenager like her.

“Don’t worry. If things go as I expect, everything will work out fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“…No.”

Seo-ha hung her head and sighed.

When Jeong Hyun-ah approached to ask if she was okay, Seo-ha waved her away without a word.

‘Does he know what I was trying to do?’

Guilt weighed heavily on Seo-ha. She hadn’t been confident walking in, and the cold, piercing gaze she met from the guitarist made her cower. It was as if he were silently saying, “How dare you?”

And then the relentless criticism followed.

If Myeong-jeon had just been meddling without understanding the drums or band dynamics, she would have immediately argued back.

But he wasn’t.

Every time she made a mistake, he pointed it out without hesitation. His observations were accurate, his criticisms valid, leaving her no choice but to accept them.

“Play properly. The drums are supposed to set the foundation, but you’re failing to hold it together. That’s why the performance isn’t working.”

Even when Seo-ha pointed out others’ mistakes, it made no difference.

“You need to adjust your playing to the skill level of others,” he emphasized with an almost maddening idealism, backed by impeccable skill that left Seo-ha utterly defeated both logically and technically.

After another session, two members stepped out for a break again. Seo-ha looked up at the ceiling, exhausted, before letting her drumsticks fall to the ground.

No one had ever treated her like this.

Everyone around her had always marveled at her talent. She had been spared criticism, even when others struggled to keep up with her. The failure was always theirs, not hers.

After all, who could find fault with a genius drummer?

Her exceptional ability, combined with the scarcity of skilled drummers, had fostered an inflated sense of self-worth. She believed no amateur band could truly accommodate her, rejecting every offer that didn’t meet her exacting standards.

But today, she encountered a guitarist who shattered her ego.

For the first time, she met someone who she believed could keep up with her, someone she wanted to form a band with—regardless of age. Age didn’t matter when it came to skill.

The problem was that this guitarist was coming down on her with an intensity she’d never experienced before.

With a deep sigh, Seo-ha recalled his gaze—a piercing look that seemed to say, “I know exactly what you were trying to do.” His relentless critiques followed, cutting her down at every turn.

He must dislike me, she thought, tears welling up in her eyes.

She wanted his recognition. Nothing would make her happier than for someone of his caliber to acknowledge her talent and suggest forming a band together.

But from his cold eyes, she could tell he had no intention of doing so.

I should just quit.

He would likely end the practice and dismiss her anyway. Why else would he be so harsh? Better to walk away on her own terms than endure the humiliation of being cast out.

Leaving her drumsticks on the chair, she stood up. Jeong Hyun-ah, scrolling on her phone, flinched as Seo-ha moved past her, but Seo-ha ignored it.

Her plan was simple: tell the others she was leaving, pack her things, and go home. She might cry later, but at least she could cry in private.

As she stepped outside to find the others, their voices stopped her in her tracks.

“Don’t be too hard on her,” a familiar voice said softly.

“I don’t know…” a lower voice responded.

It was them—Lee-seo and the guitarist. Seo-ha instinctively hid behind the wall, her heart racing as she strained to hear.

“Is it her skill? Are you not satisfied with how she plays?”

“No,” the guitarist replied.

Seo-ha froze, curiosity taking over.

Then why?

She bit her lip, holding herself back from revealing her presence.

“With her level of skill, she’s clearly the best of the four of you. Even better than you or Jeong Hyun-ah,” he admitted.

“Then why are you so harsh? Drummers are hard to come by. If you keep this up, she might leave.”

“You’re right.”

A pause followed, and then his voice came again, low and firm.

“She’s good. That’s the problem.”

“Huh?”

“Talented people need to learn consideration. Playing alone, no matter how well, is pointless if the band doesn’t come together. What’s the use of being good if the whole performance falls apart?”

Seo-ha lowered her head. His words stung.

To someone like him, my skill must not mean much.

She prepared to leave, unwilling to hear more.

Then she heard something that made her stop.

“If we’re talking about playing together, I’d like to play with her. She’s good, and I think she has room to grow even more.”

Seo-ha’s breath caught.

He wanted to play with her?

The words echoed in her mind, pushing her feet back toward the practice room.

Inside, Myeong-jeon smiled as he stepped in.

“Let’s go,” he said, brushing off any lingering tension.

Lee-seo tilted her head, puzzled at Seo-ha’s sudden change in demeanor as she followed them back inside.