Chapter 05
July is one of those months where college students finish their semester and suddenly have too much free time, while middle and high school students still have to go to school, no exceptions.
Since everyone living in the dorm except me was a minor, I ended up waking up at 6:30 a.m. along with Go Hyunseo’s alarm.
…Did I even sleep four and a half hours?
“Unnie, you should sleep more. By the time we go to school and come back, it’ll already be lunchtime.”
“Do I really look like the kind of irresponsible person who can sleep peacefully while her younger roommates head off to school early in the morning?”
“That’s not what I meant… no, that’s not what I was saying.”
“I know. I’m just kidding. I’ll sleep more after you all leave, so it’s fine.”
Seeing Hyunseo’s face turn slightly red, I smiled quietly. When she acts so stiff and serious for her age, it makes me want to tease her a little.
“Where did you say your school was again?”
“Ilsan. Ilsan Yeongcheon High School. I have to take Line 3 to Baekseok Station.”
“That’s at least an hour and a half commute, right?”
“Well, yeah. But I’m in my third year of high school, so transferring schools would be a pain. I’ll just stick it out.”
She shrugged once and was about to head out, so I handed her a simple toast I’d made and sent her off. I also gave toast to Joo Hyerin, who came out half-asleep while changing into her uniform, telling her to eat it on the way.
It turned out Hyerin’s school was in Anyang. Not as far as Hyunseo’s, but she still had to leave fairly early. Her mom picked her up every day, so travel time was a bit shorter, but she still didn’t seem to have time for breakfast.
For Hyeonje and Lee Hanbyeol, who had more time, I even poured some milk and told them to eat before leaving.
Both of them said their schools were less than ten minutes away, so even if they moved slowly it’d be fine. Even if that was a lie, being late wasn’t my problem anyway, so I just told them to eat slowly and not upset their stomachs.
After everyone I lived with left for school, I went back to sleep for about another hour.
There really is a difference between sleeping properly and not sleeping at all.
Maybe because I was exactly twenty and in good condition, but even just one extra hour made my head feel much clearer.
After washing up and getting ready, it was around 10:20. I arrived at the Music Prove building right at 10:30.
First things first: practice.
Quests mattered, sure, but unless I established myself skill-wise, how was I supposed to even bring up producing or anything else?
While I was lightly strumming a guitar in one corner of the practice room, checking songs I could sing, Kang Sua arrived around noon.
“What’s this? You’re here super early?”
“Well, I joined the latest, so I should at least come early.”
For some reason, that cracked her up, and she burst out laughing. Then she sat down next to me and started listing song requests one after another.
“I’m not a jukebox, you know. It’s not like I can play anything the moment you ask.”
“Eeh, but you can, Ji-on.”
“…Ugh. You’re the worst.”
“Hehe.”
It was probably my fault for playing guitar with her whenever we were bored back in the dorm around this time. I let out a small sigh and stared at her.
“So. What do you want me to play?”
“Without Dream.”
“Isn’t that your entrance exam song?”
“Yeah.”
“Ugh, 6/8 time always messes with me.”
“But you never mess it up.”
“…Seriously.”
I’d forgotten for a moment, but she was really good at leaving people speechless. I decided not to get dragged further into her pace and just started playing.
Without Dream is an R&B pop song that requires delicate technique and strong rhythm. Vocal majors often choose it for entrance exams and then crash and burn spectacularly, or so I’d heard. I didn’t really know, since I’d only heard the original and Sua singing it. Fast, upbeat R&B was her specialty, after all.
Playing freely with rhythm and tone over my light guitar accompaniment, Kang Sua was what people would call a true genius type. The kind who can’t even clearly explain how she produces that kind of voice or sound quality.
I don’t really like the word “born talented,” but when I look at her, I can’t help thinking, Oh, so this is who that word is meant for.
A diva, maybe. That kind of presence.
That said, it’s not like I’m bad at singing. We’re just good at different genres.
I’m closer to a rock vocalist who does better with straight, powerful rock than groovy R&B.
We sang a few songs without realizing how much time had passed, and before we knew it, the kids who’d gone to school were already coming back.
I’d heard that dance lessons were once a week, every Monday from 4 to 6 p.m.
…And so it came.
Time to get friendly with dance, something I’d never done even once.
***
The dance lesson I’d been so nervous about turned out to be less intense than I expected.
Out of the six of us, three, including me, had only started learning dance after joining the company. Because of that, the dance trainer seemed to understand my situation well.
We used the full two hours efficiently, covering everything from basic hip-hop dance foundations to a group cover song. We did a lot for a first lesson, but it wasn’t so hard that I couldn’t follow.
[▷ Daily Quest: Practice hard and level up.]
[Points earned today: 4pt]
When the lesson ended, the daily quest points totaled four. Apparently, I’d clocked four hours of actual practice time. It probably counted the time I’d spent playing guitar with Sua earlier as practice too.
Using the accumulated 5 quest points, I raised my dance level by one.
For now, I decided to invest every point I earned into dance. The required points were low, sure, but more importantly, it was by far my weakest stat.
For example, no matter how good your sense of rhythm is, it’s useless if your body can’t keep up.
“…This is weird. This isn’t the timing. I get it in my head.”
“But your body can’t follow, right?”
“Exactly.”
A perfect example would be the bizarre movements I was calling dance right now.
Even with Hyunseo checking the choreography one-on-one after the lesson, this was my level. In the video, the idol’s movements were sharp and clearly defined. Why couldn’t I do that?
If I debuted like this, I could already see my future: clipped and mocked on YouTube Shorts with titles like ‘Modern Idol Dance Skills: Absolute Disaster Edition.’
“Still, you memorize the moves really fast.”
“I’ve got a good memory. But if I can’t output it, doesn’t that make it pointless?”
“Then you just have to practice until you can output it.”
As I stared seriously at the monitoring video we’d just recorded, Hyunseo must have noticed and tried to comfort me. I couldn’t tell if it was encouragement or a gentle threat.
“Once you’ve memorized it, that’s enough. Repeat the awkward parts, figure out why they’re awkward, practice again. Do it until your body remembers. …Am I making it sound too easy?”
“No, I get what you mean. It’s not like it’s impossible.”
“I’ve thought this since we first met, but you seem kind of… detached from everything.”
“Maybe because I survived the hell that is senior year of high school? Honestly, I don’t think anything can be harder than that.”
I said it half-jokingly. Hyunseo made an awkward face, wondering if she should laugh. When I told her it was fine, she let out a small laugh.
I’d meant it as a joke, and I didn’t expect it to be that funny. The fact that it made her laugh that much was a relief.
That day, after the dance lesson, I filled in another three hours of actual practice time. Dancing almost nonstop somehow made things work.
With no foundation and no skill, the only weapon I had was effort.
And effort was one thing I refused to lose at.
I had plenty of time. By the end of this week, I’d at least reach a level I could personally tolerate.
***
After completing all fourteen days of daily quests and practicing even on weekends, my dance level finally hit 23 by the end of Sunday’s practice.
It was the result of pouring in quest points and an almost stupid amount of time and effort.
For things that require physical adaptation like dance, exercise, or instruments, I’d always believed practice volume was the answer. It seemed I was right.
Once again, I carved it into my heart:
There’s nothing you can’t do. If you do it, it works.
“You’ve really improved a lot, unnie, right? Honestly, how do you feel?”
Hyeonje, chatting excitedly beside me, had been a huge help too. When she saw me staying in the practice room late at night, she started sticking close to me during free practice time the next day.
At first, it felt a bit overwhelming, but I knew she was just someone who liked people, so I accepted it. Thanks to that, my improvement speed shot up.
For most of the past two weeks, group dance practice had followed a pattern: Hyunseo led overall formations and movement, while Hyeonje checked small details in the middle.
With Hyunseo managing the big picture and Hyeonje correcting fine errors, it was impossible not to improve practicing with them.
I smiled slightly and answered honestly.
“Yeah. Honestly, I think I improved a lot thanks to you, Jae.”
“…Ah, don’t praise me so suddenly. It’s embarrassing!”
“What? Why?”
“Can’t you give me time to prepare mentally first?”
“You need that much preparation just to be praised?”
Maybe my expression was funny, because Hyeonje burst out laughing.
“It’s just… when you praise me, it feels like being acknowledged by an adult.”
“What are you talking about? We’re only two years apart.”
“Exactly! Just that much difference, but it feels like a real adult praising me.”
“Why is that…?”
“Because you’re good at everything except dance? And even dance improved really fast.”
What was she even talking about? I stared at her, completely confused. She giggled and continued.
“Well, honestly, Sua-unnie is kind of a mess, right?”
“…That’s not exactly news. Yeah.”
During those two weeks, Kang Sua had also moved into the trainee dorm, sharing a room with Hanbyeol and Hyerin.
Just the other day, Hanbyeol dropped a bomb:
“I think Sua-unnie’s mental age is the same as my cousin’s.”
That cousin was seven years old.
So yes, Kang Sua, at twenty, had been compared to a kindergartener by a third-year middle schooler.
To be fair, Sua really is cheerful and immature. She’s not clueless, but she loves joking around and lacks a bit of seriousness. It’s not bad, just… well.
“So at first, we all thought she was this really pretty adult who sings amazingly. But after a few days, everyone realized, ‘Oh… she’s kind of an airhead.’”
“I can picture that.”
“Right? But you, unnie, you seem like you have no gaps. That’s why you feel like an adult.”
“…Huh?”
“You sing well, your dancing improves fast, and you always take care of us in the dorm. Cooking, cleaning, chores, all of it. You play guitar well too… Oh, Sua-unnie said she heard your original song and that it was really good.”
She’d just said praising others was embarrassing, and now she was listing compliments without hesitation. I kind of understood why being praised felt awkward now.
“So when I’m with you, it really feels like being with an adult. You’re different from Hyunseo-unnie. That unnie… is it okay to say this? She keeps trying to act like an adult.”
She was still in high school herself.
Hearing Hyeonje grumble softly made me laugh. That was exactly why I teased Hyunseo more than the others.
“It wasn’t like this when only Sua-unnie was around, but Hyunseo-unnie seems more relaxed around you. Um… you’re kind of like a mom?”
“What is that supposed to mean…?”
“Hehe. Honestly, I was a little scared. Like, how were we supposed to survive in this rough world on our own? We don’t say it out loud, but Hyunseo-unnie probably felt that way too.”
That made sense. I nodded slightly. And I agreed that relying on Sua alone was still difficult.
“…Um, you won’t feel pressured and run away just because I said all this, right? I’ve already given you my whole heart.”
“It’s only been two weeks since we met.”
“Exactly. That’s why it’s weird that I already feel you’re reliable.”
Smiling warmly, I gently pushed away the clingy Hyeonje.
Maybe it was because I’d lived until twenty-five and come back, or maybe it was the experience of living alone, but the fact that she trusted me so much after just two weeks…
Even if Hyeonje was like a friendly puppy, trusting people that quickly wasn’t a good thing.
And more than that… I wasn’t exactly someone worth trusting.
Still, having someone you can rely on isn’t necessarily bad.
…Is it a good thing, or a bad thing?
I honestly couldn’t tell yet.
