The Reincarnated Idol Hard Carries an Indie Band - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Next Day

The Reincarnated Idol Hard-Carries the Indie Band – Episode 3

The Reincarnated Idol Hard-Carries the Indie Band
Episode 3

The next day.

Lee Doyoung stared at his textbook with hollow eyes.

Whether it was due to lack of sleep, the words swam before his eyes without sinking into his mind.

Just then, Heo Junseong and Cha Seoha, the very ones who had kept him up all night, entered the classroom armfuls of bread.

It was just lunch break a moment ago. Aren’t they full? Lee Doyoung thought, glancing at them.

Even though he tried not to, his eyes kept drifting to them.

The moment they sat down, they tore into the bread.

“Next class is math. Wanna skip it?” Heo Junseong’s voice was shamelessly brazen, abandoning his student duties with ease.

“You should be paying attention in class. Are you a delinquent?” Cha Seoha, suddenly playing the role of a model student, was even more brazen.

“What are you talking about? You’re the one who falls asleep first in every class.”

“I’m not sleeping.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to understand the book.”

“What?”

“I’m gently pressing my head against the book and closing my eyes, see?”

“Are you crazy?”

“I love you, book.”

“You’re definitely crazy.”

What kind of conversation is this?

So absurd that Lee Doyoung couldn’t help but laugh.

Realizing his laughter was too loud, he quickly lay down and pretended to be asleep.

Thump-thump.

His heart began racing. What if they think I’m mocking them? That’s not it.

And what if they’re upset I eavesdropped after they so curtly rejected me?

As he prayed they hadn’t heard him, someone tapped his shoulder.

He tried to keep up the act, but he had to sit up at the voice.

“You’re trying to understand the book too, aren’t you?”

…Damn it.

“…Why?”

I raised my head in resignation and found Cha Seoha standing in front of me, arms crossed.

“Have you thought about it?”

“Didn’t we talk about this yesterday?”

“You refused yesterday, but maybe you’ve changed your mind today?”

“In just one day?”

“I quit taekwondo in a single day.”

Her tone was more serious than I expected, and I was struck speechless.

So that’s why she skipped training to attend class… She really quit taekwondo.

But she was supposed to be the school’s ace…

“So, do you want to join the band?”

“…Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. If that’s what you think, there’s nothing I can do. I’ll ask again tomorrow.”

What? Ask again tomorrow? Why?

Cha Seoha’s reaction only deepened my confusion.

Of course, we’d need a bassist for the band, but I’m not the only one who plays bass.

There might be a few people within the school who could play bass, and the options outside would be even wider.

It wasn’t that he was bad at playing, but he wasn’t exactly indispensable.

The world was full of geniuses.

And compared to those geniuses, he felt like nothing.

Lee Doyoung had felt this way before, and very keenly.

Yet, for some reason, he seemed to like this feeling of being ordinary.

“……”

If he didn’t have any special talent, why did she keep asking him to join the band?

Just as he was about to ask,

Ding-dong, ding-dong.

The class bell rang at the perfect moment.

“Pay attention in class,” Cha Seoha said, casually patting his shoulder before returning to her seat.

He was burning with curiosity, but once he missed his chance, it was hard to bring it up again.

Should he really ask again tomorrow?

The fact that he hadn’t prepared for math didn’t worry him much, thanks to the peculiar sense of anticipation.

Throughout class, I kept thinking about how to persuade Lee Doyoung. Unlike the simple-minded Heo Junseong, he was proving difficult to convince. I was certain he’d join the band, but I couldn’t come up with a good approach. After all, all the memories we shared had come after he started playing bass in the band. To lure the studious Lee Doyoung, I figured the best way was to show him this wasn’t just a fleeting impulse… but it might need something extra.

Still lost in thought after class, Heo Junseong slung an arm around my shoulders.

“Cha Seoha.”

“Yeah?”

“Busy today?”

“No.”

As if used to my curt replies, Heo Junseong shrugged.

“I need to change my guitar strings. Want to come with me?”

“Where are we going?”

“Nagwon Arcade.”

The name “Nagwon Arcade” felt like a blast from the past.

If Yongsan was famous for electronics, Nagwon Arcade felt like the place for musical instruments.

You could easily get ripped off and pay double the market price, but if you knew your stuff, the benefits were huge, which is why so many musicians frequented the place.

Plus, since it was a hub for musicians, it was convenient to network, share information, or book practice rooms and recording studios.

I should probably start working on some songs soon…

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Heo Junseong nodded with satisfaction at my response and asked, “By the way, can you play the guitar?”

“Just… okay.”

He’d already broken the record for male solo artists with 2.5 million first-week sales from his self-composed song, but that was in another life.

Right now, I hadn’t touched a guitar before, so my hands would be stiff.

“Then let this hyung teach you a thing or two?”

Heo Junseong’s smirk and arrogant tone were insufferable.

“You?”

“What’s with that reaction? Who was the one who hit on me at the busking event?”

Ah, right. That was the setup.

“I saw your potential. Your potential.”

“You only saw me busking. Want to see my real skills?”

“And what? Give it to someone? Keep it yourself.”

“…Sometimes you act like such an old man.”

An old man?

I was barely in my late twenties.

My mood soured.

I needed to put Heo Junseong in his place at Nagwon Arcade.

“Resonance of Strings,” a guitar specialty shop in Nagwon Arcade, was a space Jang Deokcheol had cultivated for twenty years.

A former guitarist, he opened the shop after his band disbanded.

There was no special reason.

Guitars were his area of expertise, and he wanted to continue interacting with musicians and sharing casual conversations even after retiring.

So, seeing beginner students like the boys before him naturally brought a warm smile to his face.

With a friendly smile, Jang Deokcheol handed over the checked guitar.

“I checked it while replacing the strings. Take a look.”

“Thank you.”

The student who took the guitar carefully examined it. As he inspected it, he could tell it had been treated with care.

He looked about high school age.

I was like that once, too.

The tall student wasn’t even properly dressed in his school uniform. His tie was nowhere to be found, and his shirt was carelessly unbuttoned.

Others might have thought he was a delinquent, but Jang Deokcheol saw him positively, reminded of his own youth.

After all, outward appearances don’t always reflect what’s inside.

Jang Deokcheol had also lived his younger days in a way that would have horrified the older generation.

The student, who had been examining the guitar, casually began to play.

Oh.

Better than he’d expected.

Helsinki Child by the 80s band Pinch Address.

The intro to that song was particularly famous, so much so that anyone who’d ever played guitar at least once had probably tried to play it at some point.

It was based on a simple E7 chord progression and the playing itself wasn’t technically difficult, so some people might dismiss it. But that’s just ignorance.

Replicating its unique groove was anything but easy, and most people couldn’t quite capture the original feel.

It might sound straightforward when you’re listening, but countless people have discovered how different it feels when they actually try to play it.

In other words, it’s a song that requires you to tap into your feel for the music rather than just memorizing the sheet music.

As the student brought his pick to the strings, the familiar riff sprang forth.

His playing was relaxed and clean, with a touch of his own unique feel.

He had the ability to add flair to seemingly simple performances.
Moreover, he possessed a confidence that could never be faked after just a few attempts.
His performance was a perfect demonstration of his skill and practice.

Jang Deokcheol nodded approvingly. For a high school student, this was quite impressive.
While his signature groove was slightly lacking, his solid fundamentals made his future as a guitarist exceptionally promising.

As the performance ended, Jang Deokcheol nodded and gave a thumbs-up.
“You play well.”
“Thank you for listening.”
Despite his initial impression, the student was surprisingly polite.

Just then, another male student who had been quietly listening to the guitar performance spoke up with a dismissive expression.

“You’re not as good as I thought, Heo Junseong. Is it still too early for you?”

Jang Deokcheol’s eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected remark.

Isn’t that pretty good?

“What?”

Heo Junseong was equally taken aback.

He hadn’t thought his performance was perfect, but he didn’t consider it particularly lacking either. He took pride in his skill, which he believed surpassed that of his peers.

At first, he dismissed it as a thoughtless comment, but Cha Seoha’s expression kept bothering him.

“You think I played badly?”

“Not exactly. You just didn’t play as well as I expected.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I thought you’d play better.”

“What do you know about playing? You can’t even play guitar properly.”

“I never said I couldn’t play it. I said I was just so-so.”

“Huh? Then go ahead and try.”

Heo Junseong, unable to control his temper, roughly thrust the guitar at Cha Seoha.

“Prove it.”

“…Prove it?”

Cha Seoha stared at the guitar for a moment, then a sly smile crept across her lips as she accepted it.

As the melody began, Heo Junseong involuntarily flinched.

What the…? She’s playing the same song?

How does she know this song?

No, that’s not the point. This song might sound easy, but it’s anything but easy to play.

At that moment, Cha Seoha’s fingers began to move slowly.

This isn’t a song you can play slowly. But she’s playing it slowly.

The actual speed might not be slow, but it doesn’t feel rushed at all.

Naturally, she drew out the melody, naturally formed the rhythm.

Cha Seoha was teaching him something.

This song is from an era that championed freedom. You need to know how to express yourself freely.

At certain points, she seemed to be teaching him by intuitively pushing and pulling the rhythm.

Why are you playing it just like you were taught?

It was the same song, yet the expression was entirely different.

Don’t just show off your practice hours; express yourself.

Moreover, Cha Seoha inserted her own riffs between the prescribed parts, revealing her true self.

And woven into the original song were riffs that weren’t there in the original.

The difficulty was easy, but the performance was brimming with emotion.

And Heo Junseong understood what Cha Seoha was trying to convey.

She’s not just playing.

She’s sharing.

Empathy, not boasting.

A communicator, not just a technician.

When the performance finally ended, Heo Junseong could only let out a single, involuntary cry.

“Crazy!”