Chapter 28: Laundry

“Appear on a broadcast?”

“Yes. I think your daughter is fully capable of participating in such shows.”

Lee Hyein’s voice brightened noticeably as she spoke, while a subordinate responded to her.

Myung-jeon felt a sense of foreboding.

A broadcast appearance? An audition? He should probably say he had never even considered such things…

“Is that so? Our daughter does have talent, but we’ve never really talked about it in that context.

I hadn’t thought of it at all.”

“You should consider it! I have a friend working in the broadcasting industry, so I could pass along some information to you, President.”

Lee Hyein smiled broadly as she spoke, then glanced over at Myung-jeon.

He shook his head and gathered his belongings before stepping outside.

“What do you think about what we just heard?”

“…About what?”

“The broadcast appearance.”

Is she still talking about that?

Myung-jeon turned to gaze outside for a moment. The sun had long since set, leaving the road lit only by the headlights of cars and the cool-white glow of streetlights.

While he was absentmindedly staring outside, Lee Hyein spoke again.

“I think it would be good for Ha Su-yeon to try appearing on a program like that.”

“In what way?”

At Myung-jeon’s question, Lee Hyein paused to choose her words. But regardless of her answer, Myung-jeon was already against the idea of appearing on a broadcast. The reason was simple…

“If I participate, wouldn’t that be a bit unfair?”

Think about it.

Would anyone with comparable musical skill even show up to such an audition? If they did, they would likely be sitting at the judges’ table instead.

If he didn’t venture into unfamiliar fields—like dance or idols—but instead stuck to his area of expertise, his victory would essentially be predetermined.

And that was precisely why Myung-jeon had no intention of participating.

It would be undignified at his age, and such opportunities should be left for others.

Not to mention, he held the belief that “music should be judged solely on its own merits.”

Of course, that belief lost some credibility given his active YouTube channel, but people often operate on the principle of “it’s fine if I do it, but not if you do.”

“These days, self-promotion is essential.

Making music is great, but to get people to listen to it, you need to put yourself out there.

That’s what I think.”

“Really?”

As Myung-jeon listened, Lee Hyein finished choosing her words and began to speak. Her perspective leaned heavily on business principles, so instead of refuting her, he opted to stay silent.

After all, her points weren’t easily dismissible, and even if he argued, it wasn’t likely to change her mind.

No matter how logical his arguments, in her eyes, he was still “her inexperienced daughter,” and his words would likely be dismissed as youthful naivety.

“Also, I want Ha Su-yeon to gain a variety of experiences.

Until now… Well, she might not see it this way, but I think there’s been a bit of a rebellious streak.

“Of course, it’s not too late.

Life is unpredictable.

I never imagined I’d go into business back when I was a student.

But if there’s a path where Ha Su-yeon’s talents can shine, wouldn’t it be worth exploring?”

After considering Lee Hyein’s words, Myung-jeon replied with a noncommittal “I’ll think about it.”

It wasn’t as though she expected him to say, “Alright! I’ll join an audition show immediately!” Besides, it might just get forgotten in a day or two.

If that happened, it would be like it never came up in the first place.

Surely, she wasn’t genuinely serious about him auditioning.

It seemed more like a casual suggestion, stemming from the hope that her daughter might find her path or gain recognition.

But Myung-jeon’s assumption was proven wrong in the following days.

Lee Hyein relentlessly brought it up every chance she got.

“Have you thought about participating?”

“I’ve been giving it some thought…”

“One of the employees mentioned it again.”

“It’s a good opportunity to consider.”

The sheer persistence made Myung-jeon want to scream.

He even entertained the idea of slamming his door and yelling, “Just leave me alone!” like Ha Su-yeon used to.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do that.

After all, she was still his “mom,” and she was saying all this out of concern for him.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder, “Does she not even consider the fact that her daughter used to be a delinquent?”

That thought gave him a headache.

Eventually, unable to withstand Hyein’s relentless pressure, Myung-jeon caved and said, “If the opportunity arises, I’ll give it a try.”

It happened during the second group lesson, when a group of employees openly asked, “Why don’t you try joining an audition program?”

“Are they seriously taking it this far?”

Myung-jeon imagined the scenario.

A boss asking her employees to encourage her daughter to join an audition, and the employees executing the plan, wondering what on earth they were doing.

“A bit much, isn’t it?”

In this situation, there was only one way to preserve his mom’s dignity: to say yes.

“But even if I agree… I have no idea what to apply for.”

That was the dilemma.

Lee Hyein hadn’t mentioned any specific audition or program.

For her, the goal was simply to get her daughter on TV.

The problem was, while the encourager could be vague, the participant had to consider all the details.

So, Myung-jeon opened his laptop. Research was the first step in matters like this.

After hours of research, he reached a conclusion.

“It’s too much to decide on my own.”

Out of the numerous audition programs, there were only three he was eligible for that were currently accepting applications.

1. An idol survival program. Despite past controversies and declining popularity, it had rebranded and was now accepting participants for a new season.There were no specific requirements, aside from a clean criminal record and no travel restrictions. The final winner would debut as an idol.”This one’s definitely out.”The reasons were obvious. First, Myung-jeon had no intention of becoming an idol.

   While Ha Su-yeon’s appearance, physical abilities, and musical talent might make it feasible…

   “What? You want me to strut around half-dressed, shaking my hips in front of men?”

“Broadcast appearance?”

“Yes. I think your daughter would be perfect for that kind of show.”

Lee Hye-in’s voice brightened, responding to an employee’s suggestion.

Ha Su-yeon couldn’t shake off a sense of foreboding.

A broadcast appearance? An audition? He’d never considered anything like that.

“Really? My daughter is talented, but she’s never mentioned anything like this before. I’ve never even thought about it.”

“Give it some thought! I have a friend working in the industry and can pass along some information to you.”

With a cheerful smile, Hye-in turned to glance at Ha Su-yeon.

He shook his head, gathered his belongings, and stepped outside.

“What do you think about what they said earlier?”

“…About what?”

“The broadcast appearance.”

Still on about that? Ha Su-yeon turned to look out the window.

The sun had long since set, leaving the road illuminated by car headlights and the cool glow of streetlights.

As he stared absently outside, Hye-in spoke again.

“I think it would be great for Ha Su-yeon to try something like that.”

“And why do you think so?”

At Ha Su-yeon ’s question, Hye-in paused to choose her words. But whatever her reasoning, Ha Su-yeon
was against the idea of a broadcast appearance.

Because…

“If I join, wouldn’t that be cheating?”

Think about it.

Could anyone match his musical abilities in an audition show? Even if they could, they’d probably end up on the judging panel, not as competitors.

If he joined a program related to his expertise—say, something involving instrumental performance—victory would be a foregone conclusion.

And Ha Su-yeon didn’t want that.

It felt unbecoming at his age, and more importantly, such opportunities should go to others.

Also, his principle was clear: music should be judged on its own merits, not through gimmicks.

Of course, this principle was somewhat hypocritical, considering he ran a YouTube channel, but human nature tends to rationalize: “It’s romantic when I do it; it’s scandalous when you do it.”

“It’s a self-promotion era these days.

Playing music is good, but you also need to put yourself out there for others to hear it.

Business works the same way. Even if you have a great product, it’s useless if nobody knows about it.”

“Is that so?”

While Ha Su-yeon pondered her words, Hye-in finally found her phrasing and explained.

It was a pragmatic argument, and he chose silence over rebuttal.

Even if he argued, Hye-in wouldn’t change her mind. To her, Ha Su-yeon was still her inexperienced daughter, and Ha Su-yeon ’s opinions would likely be dismissed as naive.

“I also want Ha Su-yeon to have new experiences.

So far… Well, I think she’s gone astray at times.

But it’s not too late. Life is unpredictable.

I never thought I’d end up running a business when I was a student. But if there’s a way for her to use her talent, why not try it?”

After some deliberation, Ha Su-yeon simply said he’d think about it.

Hye-in wasn’t expecting him to enthusiastically agree right away.

Tomorrow or the day after, she might forget the whole thing herself.

Still, he reconsidered after Hye-in brought it up incessantly.

“What do you think about joining a show?”

“I’ve been thinking…”

“My employee mentioned this…”

“It could be a great opportunity.”

It got to the point where Ha Su-yeon felt like screaming, “Just leave me alone!”

But he couldn’t.

After all, she was his mother, and her intentions came from a place of care.

Yet, sometimes, he couldn’t help but wonder:

“Does she not remember Ha Su-yeon’s delinquent past?”

Eventually, Ha Su-yeon gave in.

“If an opportunity comes up, I’ll consider it,” he said, unable to resist after Hye-in’s employee even brought it up during a group lesson.

“Is this really happening?”

He imagined a scenario: his mother orchestrating employees to nudge him into joining a show, and the employees reluctantly following through, wondering, “What even is this?”

It was excessive.

The only way to protect his mother’s dignity was to say yes.

But even agreeing posed a problem.

“What show am I supposed to join?”

Hye-in didn’t seem to have a specific program in mind—just the idea of her daughter being on TV sounded appealing to her.

Ha Su-yeon opened his laptop. For something like this, research was necessary.

After hours of research, he came to a conclusion:

“This isn’t something I can decide alone.”

Out of countless audition programs, only three were feasible:

1. Idol Survival Program
   Despite controversies and waning popularity, it was still running. There were no specific qualifications except a clean record and no travel restrictions. The winner would debut as an idol.

“This is a hard no.”

First, he had no interest in becoming an idol.

The idea of performing cutesy dances and acting adorable in front of men was revolting.

He almost gagged just thinking about it.

Second, his expertise as a guitarist was unrelated to idol skills.

Lastly, Ha Su-yeon’s past disqualified her.

Drinking, smoking, and bullying wouldn’t fly in an industry that demanded a spotless image.

2. General Singing Competition
   A straightforward format where contestants compete based on skill. No major issues here, but it could lead to a solo career, which conflicted with his commitment to his band.
3. Band Competition
   While appealing, it also posed challenges. Some shows formed new bands, locking participants into those groups, while others required established bands to compete. His band wasn’t ready for such a competition.

No matter what, he’d need to discuss this with his bandmates and Hye-in.

But first, there was another task at hand.

Ha Su-yeon picked up his phone and dialed. After a few rings, someone answered.

“Oh, Yeonsu! What’s up?”

“Da-in, can we talk tomorrow? I need your help with something.”

Before anything else, he needed to confront his past.