Chapter 7: Going to School

“How much is it?”

“Two million won.”

Myeong-jeon nodded, thinking that sounded about right. Yi-seo, on the other hand, looked aghast.

“Two million won for an effects pedal?!”

“You play bass, so you wouldn’t know. Classic effects pedals cost around this much. Especially this one, since there’s no reissue.”

As Yi-seo argued with the shop owner, Myeong-jeon thought,

‘My pedalboard… and all my equipment. If it’s all scattered, I’ll need at least 100 million won to collect it all.’

Even excluding his most expensive piece, the Dumble Overdrive Special he kept for collecting – which would easily fetch over 100 million won now.

Just his pedalboard alone was worth over ten million won. The Sovtek Big Muff in front of him, the Pete Cornish SS-2, the Chandler Tube Driver… all those would cost well over a million won each on the used market.

On top of that, the Binson Echorec and Hiwatt amp he used for recording at home, the Klon Centaur overdrive he’d bought for collecting and occasionally used… even just the equipment alone would cost around that much.

Of course, if he had the money, he could just buy replacements on Reverb (Reference 1). The days of scouring Nakwon or Ochanomizu, calling every number in the phone book to find equipment, were over.

Or he could replace them with similar pedals. A regular Big Muff instead of the Sovtek, a new Tube Driver… those might even sound better.

But he’d tweaked the circuits and boards of his old pedals himself, so he wanted to use his original equipment if possible.

However…

“I think I’ll buy this.”

“Oh! As expected, someone with good taste. Card? I can knock off 100,000 won if you pay cash.”

“But I don’t have the money right now.”

Meaning, she didn’t have it with her.

The shop owner, who’d been acting friendly as if he expected her to buy it, immediately stepped back and turned serious.

“We don’t do layaway.”

“I’m not asking for layaway. I want to reserve it.”

“Well, that’s fine. Leave your number, and I’ll call you if anyone else is interested. If you don’t decide then, I’ll sell it.”

Myeong-jeon nodded.

“Are you really going to buy that? It looks like junk.”

“I have my reasons.”

Myeong-jeon said this and closed his mouth. Two million won… he could probably haggle it down to 1.5 million. But where would he get 1.5 million? He only had 600,000 won left from the two million his ‘mother’ had given him.

His ‘mother’ seemed to have money, so he could probably squeeze another 1.5 million out of her. But what about the rest of the equipment? Was he supposed to beg for money every time he found a piece for his pedalboard? That wouldn’t do.

“By the way, I never knew you were into music. When did you start? It’s been a while, right?”

Perhaps to alleviate her earlier embarrassment, Yi-seo bombarded Myeong-jeon with questions, then suddenly stopped, a look of realization on her face.

Even if she’d held back earlier, Su-yeon looked annoyed now. Was she angry? She probably wouldn’t slap her in the middle of the street. But if she tried to drag her somewhere without CCTV cameras, she’d have to strike first and run…

“It’s been a while.”

Yi-seo flinched as Su-yeon raised her hand during the brief silence. But the hand went to her chin. Su-yeon stroked her chin thoughtfully before speaking.

“I need to earn money.”

He’d decided to play music for enjoyment just a few days ago, and now he was worrying about money. But it couldn’t be helped. Gear was an emotional thing.

For example, take the Boonar multi-head drum echo, designed to replace the Binson Echorec. Even David Gilmour used the Boonar instead of the Echorec, so it was clearly a capable substitute.

But even though he knew that logically, he still felt something was lacking. Something… intangible. He couldn’t explain it, but it just wasn’t the same.

But how could he earn money? Myeong-jeon fell into thought. In the past, he could easily make money by taking on session work. But that wouldn’t work now.

Myeong-jeon had been a top-tier session musician, earning around 500,000 won per session (three to three and a half hours). It rarely happened, but there were times when he could make ten million won a month if he really pushed himself.

Now it would be different. Because he didn’t have the equipment.

A session musician had to be able to meet the client’s demands. Even if a client made a ridiculous request like, ‘I hate the Fender sound, bring a PRS,’ he had to comply.

Moreover, many clients hired session musicians based on their tone. But he didn’t have the equipment to recreate his old tone. His previous success as a session musician was partly due to his unique tone, achieved through his specific gear. But he didn’t have that anymore.

“Huh?”

Yi-seo watched as Su-yeon walked on, lost in thought with a serious expression. Why would she need money? Her family was rich… Ah, was it because of that effects pedal?

“You should get a part-time job if you need money.”

“Part-time job…”

He wondered if he should go back to plastering, a skill he’d learned during his time away from music. He’d learned it by observing construction workers while teaching them music for about eight years and even got a license, could he use that somehow?

…But then again, that was also from his previous life, so it wasn’t an option.

“I don’t know.”

“How about YouTube? You could film shorts or promote things on Instagram. People make a lot of money that way. Kim Hye-jin in Class 2 is making bank doing that.”

Who was Kim Hye-jin? Myeong-jeon’s head spun. And YouTube? He knew people made money on there. About three months before he died, a musician friend asked him to boost his YouTube views. He remembered clicking the link and seeing something like fifteen views.

“You could make a lot of money, Su-yeon. You have over 10,000 followers on Instagram. Just post some… more revealing photos, and you’ll get sponsorships…”

Yi-seo suddenly added, “N-Not that you’re that kind of girl, Su-yeon!” Myeong-jeon, not understanding what she meant, just stared at her.

‘I should check out her Instagram later.’

“Did you stay up late last night? You look tired.”

“Oh, yes…”

Her daughter’s face looked pale as she listlessly got up and started eating her soup. Did she stay up all night? She sometimes heard faint guitar sounds in the evenings, so maybe she’d been practicing.

The thought made Hye-in smile. Her daughter, who used to be out every night, was now spending more time at home.

Come to think of it, a lot had changed since Su-yeon left the hospital.

First, they started having breakfast together. Since the accident and her discharge, Su-yeon started waking up at the same time as Hye-in and having breakfast with her. Something unimaginable before.

In the evenings, too, Su-yeon waited for her to come home so they could have dinner together. Before, even if she came home on time, Su-yeon would’ve already eaten or said she was going out.

Whenever she went out, Su-yeon would call or text her. ‘Going to Nakwon.’ ‘Going to Yongsan.’ Short messages, but the fact that she bothered to inform her showed consideration.

‘Is it because she regrets what she did before the accident?’

‘I’m going to die…’

Contrary to Hye-in’s thoughts, Myeong-jeon felt like he was dying. He hadn’t slept a wink last night. Because he’d seen the remnants of the previous ‘Ha Su-yeon,’ namely her Instagram.

Photos with shamelessly exposed cleavage. Pictures of her in short skirts and revealing shorts. Pictures with heavy makeup, strange expressions, and poses designed to titillate men.

He didn’t necessarily disapprove of such things existing. He’d lived a wild life himself.

But it was a completely different matter when it was him.

‘How will the world look at me…?’

Myeong-jeon clutched his head without realizing it. He didn’t hear his ‘mother’s’ worried question, “Su-yeon, do you have a headache?”

He couldn’t keep pretending to have amnesia, so he’d told his ‘mother’ that his memory was slowly returning.

“Then you can go back to school now. That’s good. I thought you might have to take another week off.”

Seeing his ‘mother’ smile and say that, he thought he should’ve told her sooner…

‘I shouldn’t have opened that box. It’s like Pandora’s Box.’

He wanted another week to prepare himself mentally for facing the world that would now see him as… that kind of girl, but school started today, so that was impossible.

Myeong-jeon could only sigh.

“Su-yeon!! Why aren’t you checking your messages?! I thought you died!”

“Ha Su-yeon, you little b*tch~”

“You left the hospital last week, right~? Why aren’t you posting on Instagram? Your followers are bugging me~.”

Exhausted even before reaching his classroom, Myeong-jeon ignored the three people who greeted him at the back door and slumped into his seat.

The classroom fell strangely silent.

“…What’s wrong with her?”

“Su-yeon, what happened?”

“Who is it? Who made our Yeon-soo tired?!”

To break the silence, the three started putting on an exaggerated show. Watching their antics, Myeong-jeon spoke.

“Guys, I’m being serious, this isn’t a joke, but I don’t remember much after the accident.”

The three gasped dramatically, loud enough for the rest of the class to hear.

“Really?”

“Yeah. So even if I seem a little weird, cut me some slack.”

“…Come to think of it, she does sound different… Didn’t she usually…?”

“She’d be cursing up a storm by now.”

Is that serious? they said, sitting down in front of Myeong-jeon’s desk. And the interrogation began.

“So why didn’t you check your messages?”

“I told you, I don’t remember.”

“No fcking way~! If you’re that brain-dead, you shouldn’t be able to talk! You just ignored us, you btch. I bet she checked all the guys’ messages. Such a thirst trap~”

One of the girls snatched his phone and unlocked it with facial recognition. She grinned as she checked something, then her expression suddenly hardened.

“What?”

“She really didn’t check anything. She didn’t even see the homeroom teacher’s messages. No wonder he said he couldn’t reach her, hehehe…”

“Seriously. Wow~ look at all the messages from guys. Is this the life of an Instagram celeb with 10,000 followers? Throw me a bone, Su-yeon, if there’s anyone decent.”

They chattered away, scrolling through his messages. Then they started critiquing the profile pictures of the men in his contact list.

Myeong-jeon just sighed.

The day he ended up in this body, he thought living an ordinary life wouldn’t be difficult. Going to school, attending university, getting a regular job… what was so hard about that? Just follow the established path.

But a few days later, Myeong-jeon realized that an ‘ordinary life’ wasn’t so simple.

Just talking to ‘Choi Yi-seo’ yesterday had been incredibly draining. And now this? It hadn’t even been a few minutes.

He had to do this for two more years?

His spirit was too old for this. Or so he wanted to say, but even his mental energy was fine now. It was only his old, weary ‘Myeong-jeon’ self that couldn’t handle it.