Chapter 24: Performance

As soon as Ha Su-yeon was introduced, the auditorium started buzzing with murmurs.

“Ha Su-yeon? Is that really her? Why is she here? Did she really do music?”

‘This girl… is she famous enough that students from other schools react just by hearing her name?’

“And lastly, we have second-year student Jeong Hyun-ah from Class 2. Together, they form a band!

Let me introduce: Group Sound!”

A wave of slightly unenthusiastic applause and cheers erupted, as was customary.

The intensity of the reaction remained steady as Seo-ha and Jeong Hyun-ah entered, increased slightly when I-seo stepped onto the stage, and then suddenly spiked when Ha Su-yeon appeared.

“Ha Su-yeon is so pretty!”

‘Who the heck is that?’

The deep voice boomed from the audience, causing a ripple of laughter throughout the crowd.

Whoever it was seemed close enough to Ha Su-yeon to shout such a thing, but the voice wasn’t one she recalled.

‘Well, there’s no need to worry about that.’

Myeong-jeon slightly turned his head, then positioned himself in the center of the stage.

The MC naturally handed him the microphone, signaling him to speak until the band’s setup was complete.

“Um… Hello.”

Cheers erupted from the audience.

Judging by the comments, most seemed focused on his looks. These days, it seemed even a face like his was enough to cause a regional stir.

“Many of you seem to recognize me, but I don’t really know any of you. As some of you might have heard, I lost some of my memories a few months ago after an accident on my electric scooter.”

The room fell silent. Only faint sounds of people clearing their throats broke the stillness.

Unbothered, Myeong-jeon continued speaking.

“You know how they say people do unusual things when they think they’re going to die? Well, after I almost died, I decided to do something I’ve never done before.

And as you can see, that something is music.”

He lightly strummed his guitar.

The stylish movement and rich sound prompted shouts of admiration from the audience.

“I’ve rambled long enough. I hear I wasn’t like this before. Maybe Mr. Ko should try cracking his head open once too—it might change him a bit, don’t you think?”

He glanced back briefly.

The setup was complete, and his bandmates nodded firmly.

Time to start.

“We’ll begin with our first song.”

A high-pitched clean tone rang out, accompanied by four crashes of the cymbals, marking the start of the performance.

The music that followed moved the audience—not because they recognized the song, but because of the violent low tones of the drums and bass.

The maximum boosted bass resonated from the auditorium floor to its ceiling, shaking the entire space.

It didn’t matter if anyone knew the song.

Myeong-jeon himself didn’t know it well either.

But must you always know a song to enjoy it?

Isn’t it fine to enjoy even unfamiliar music?

The audience stared at the stage, their eyes blank.

Exposed to something entirely new, they froze, unsure if they liked or disliked the music.

These were kids who let others’ opinions shape their own.

Now, they were in limbo, unable to decide on their own.

Admit it.

Accept the voice within you.

Acknowledge that the performance before your eyes is good.

And if you can’t, I’ll help you see it for yourself.

As the bass rested briefly, I-seo glanced at the audience to assess their state.

‘They look like their souls have left their bodies.’

It was unsurprising, given Ha Su-yeon’s order to amplify the bass and drum tones to the point of inducing tinnitus the next day.

The intensified low frequencies had thrown the audience into a kind of trance.

‘And my soul too,’ I-seo thought as she plucked her strings once more.

All her worries had vanished—the fear of mistakes during the performance, which had gnawed at her relentlessly, had disappeared like raccoons washing cotton candy in water.

Now, her heart brimmed only with euphoria.

It didn’t matter if the kids didn’t recognize the song or weren’t reacting.

Why should it?

She was the one performing, and they were mere spectators.

This stage was hers.

I-seo’s thoughts were interrupted by a sharp sound.

One clap turned into two, then three, then four, and eventually multiplied into a wave of applause.

The sound, initially faint, grew louder and reverberated through the auditorium.

The kids, knowing nothing about the song, chose a universal language the stage could understand—applause.

The bass subtly rode the rhythm in response.

The drums became more powerful.

The keyboard added more intricate notes.

The performance soared to its rehearsed limits.

They played as if burning their energy, as if this was their last day alive.

Their ferocious performance continued.

‘Amazing.’

That was the thought running through most of the audience’s minds.

Even though they didn’t know the origin, meaning, or language of the song, it didn’t matter.

For most students, none of that was important.

Why should it be?

If the music sounded good and the performance was entertaining, that was enough.

The final song of the set neared its climax.

“The departure bell rings,

and I am the only passenger.”

The intense tempo made it impossible for the audience to keep clapping along in time.

Some boys swayed their heads wildly in their seats, while others jumped up, unable to suppress their energy, dancing and cheering.

The common thread was that everyone was having fun.

“I don’t want to hear anything else,

except the sound I create.”

As Myeong-jeon sang the final lyrics, he prepared for the guitar solo—longer than the original version to draw out the audience’s enthusiasm.

With each step downstage, his riffs became flashier.

The closer he got to the audience, the more ferocious his playing became, and the cheers rose to a crescendo.

The tempo had surpassed the speed of most shredding solos he had attempted in his life.

With a final, climactic stroke, he raised the guitar neck skyward…

And, with a thunderous explosion of drums, bass, keyboard, and fireworks, lightning struck the auditorium.

As soon as the performance ended, Myeong-jeon dashed backstage.

Too many people looked eager to swarm him.

The others followed suit, leaving only Jeong Hyun-ah to bear the brunt of the ecstatic crowd.

“When did you start doing this?!”

“That was amazing!”

“Jeong Hyun-ah, what the heck?!”

Amid the chaos, Jeong Hyun-ah looked as though she might pass out.

Myeong-jeon and the others left her behind and exited the gym.

“That was incredible.”

“Definitely fun after so long.”

Even I-seo, who was performing for the first time, and Seo-ha, who had done this many times, looked thrilled.

Relieved that the hard work was over and filled with excitement at the thought of doing it again, both wore smiles of satisfaction.

“Should we just leave Jeong Hyun-ah unguarded like that?”

“Well, this is her school. She’ll be fine.”

“True enough.”

Their exchange was halfhearted.

But what else could they do?

They knew too well what would happen if they went back inside the gym to retrieve her