The Reincarnated Idol Hard Carries an Indie Band - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Reincarnated Idol Carries the Indie Band

Reincarnated Idol Carries the Indie Band – Episode 4

Reincarnated Idol Carries the Indie Band

Episode 4

Cha Seoha lowered her guitar and massaged her fingers.

There were no calluses, so it hurt a bit, but the performance itself seemed decent.

She’d improvised to cover the parts she couldn’t remember, and they fit surprisingly well.

She was lucky that the intro to “Helsinki Child” was a simple one-chord progression.

Heo Junseong’s challenge to “prove yourself” brought back old memories.

From the moment she became an idol trainee at a late age, she’d been told to prove herself endlessly.

Narrowly, it was her fellow group members, then the company staff, and more broadly, the public.

But the people he truly wanted to prove something to were the members of the band he’d betrayed.

Look, I’m living well, even after abandoning you all.

My music is still great.

He wanted to show them that.

He knew it was just for his own satisfaction, but he couldn’t help it.

Anyway, it was a pretty decent practice session.

And it was a good opportunity to teach Heo Junseong some performance techniques along the way.

“It’s a bit disappointing, but I’m still better than you, right?”

“Disappointing? That was awesome!”

“You didn’t have the right speed. You missed the beat a few times too. A band member who misses the beat is the worst.”

At Cha Seoha’s words, Heo Junseong’s excitement vanished in an instant.

“Then what am I? Why did you make me play guitar? You’re way better.”

“Because you’re a better singer.”

“You’re better at singing…?”

“If I can help it, I won’t play guitar in the band. You can do this level, too.”

At Cha Seoha’s words, Heo Junseong’s eyes trembled uncontrollably. He stood rigid, like a man nailed to a post, and muttered,

“I can do this?”

“Yeah. You can do it even better than me.”

Her calm words carried genuine conviction.

Strangely, he felt a premonition that it might actually come true.

“Really?”

Cha Seoha looked at Heo Junseong’s dazed expression and thought,

You fool. You were the one who first taught me guitar.

She had formally studied after debuting as an idol, but all her fundamental skills and playing style had come from Heo Junseong.

Does fate exist?

Lee Doyoung believed it did, yet he’d never experienced it himself.

Fateful encounters, irresistible attraction.

He’d never felt anything like that.

But as he passed through Nagwon Arcade after his academy class, he couldn’t help but stop when he spotted two familiar figures.

Heo Junseong and Cha Seoha.

At that moment, Heo Junseong began to play.

How good is he?

He could be surprisingly good, or surprisingly bad.

Even though he didn’t know why he was listening, Lee Doyoung found himself captivated by Heo Junseong’s performance.

He’s better than I expected.

He’s way beyond high school level.

But that was just an appetizer.

Lee Doyoung couldn’t close his mouth, witnessing the overwhelming spectacle that unfolded.

What did I just hear?

Heo Junseong had been good, but Cha Seoha’s performance was on another level entirely.

She possessed extraordinary depth and agility, but that wasn’t the most striking thing.

It was as if she were searching for the right words to say to a friend in every moment, as if she were finding the perfect notes to play on the spot.

It felt like she was speaking with her instrument.

How could she evoke such a feeling while merely covering an existing song?

What exactly was this feeling?

Thump-thump.

Her heart, which had begun racing without her realizing it, didn’t calm down even after the performance ended.

It had been a long time since her chest had pounded like this.

He had felt this thrill before.

From him…

From a true genius.

Lee Doyoung stared at his trembling hands and thought,

Could I ever fit in there?

The urge to play with Cha Seoha and Heo Junseong surged through him, but fear followed close behind.

He knew they would be disappointed by his playing. He wasn’t a genius.

Refusing was the right thing to do.

Just as Lee Doyoung turned to leave with heavy steps,

“Lee Doyoung!”

A familiar voice called his name.

How did he recognize me so easily in this crowd? He turned to see Heo Junseong running toward him.

“…Hi.”

He stopped abruptly, waving awkwardly with a nervous smile.

“Are you planning to change your strings too?”

My chest prickled. Heo Junseong’s face, alight with interest, overlapped with my own.

I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

After a pause, I forced myself to speak in my usual voice. “No, I was just looking around… You played really well.”

Heo Junseong scratched his head, looking awkward. He didn’t seem like the type, but he was strangely susceptible to compliments.

“Since you heard Cha Seoha play too, I feel a bit embarrassed.”

“No way. You were amazing too.”

“Thanks. Lee Doyoung, why don’t you join our band instead of just watching?”

Why was that? I’d clearly anticipated this proposal, yet it felt strangely heavy.

I’d intended to refuse.

But the words wouldn’t come easily.

Then, Cha Seoha, who had quietly followed him, looked him straight in the eye and asked, “Why?”

Her calm gaze, as steady as ever, carried a resolute conviction that she believed in him.

“I’m not that good. You’ll definitely be disappointed… You’ll probably think I’m a nuisance.”

“Is that the reason?”

“Huh?”

“If that’s your reason for refusing, then I’ll be disappointed.”

“……”

“Even if you don’t play well today, you can play better tomorrow. In a few years, you’ll be the best in Korea.”

It was absurd, but it felt like a long-buried dream in the depths of his heart was awakening.

The moments he first held a bass with trembling hands naturally flashed before his eyes.

It felt strange to be feeling this way again, just because of someone my age who wasn’t even a renowned musical genius.

Was it because of his exceptional talent?

But it was different from simply admiring someone’s skill.

It felt like I was seeing something concrete, something specific.

I didn’t know what it was, but I had a hunch he was going to achieve something incredible.

I felt like if I teamed up with Cha Seoha, we could make some exciting music.

Finally making up his mind, Lee Doyoung opened his tightly pressed lips.

“Don’t regret this later.”

The three of them looked at each other and smiled.

Longing, youth, challenge, dreams, excitement…

It was a smile born from a mix of emotions I couldn’t quite name, and to outsiders, we just looked like “friends.”

The duo had visited Nagwon Arcade as a two-person band, but suddenly they were a trio.

Heo Junseong insisted they had to do something to commemorate this milestone, suggesting they all go out for a meal.

“But I came here to change my bass strings,” Lee Doyoung said.

The three of them returned to Resonance of Strings.

There, they found Jang Deokcheol waiting for them, his expression completely changed.

In truth, Jang Deokcheol was stunned after listening to Cha Seoha’s performance.

While Heo Junseong’s playing was at a level rarely seen in high school students, Cha Seoha’s was at a level that even most Hongdae guitarists couldn’t easily match.

If she had simply shown off her technical skills, he wouldn’t have been so surprised. But she had showcased her expressive power.

For a high school student to possess such depth of expression was nearly impossible.

Did she pick up a guitar at her first birthday party or something?

Or had she undergone some incredibly rigorous training?

“Which agency do you trainees belong to?”

“None.”

“Then?”

“We’re just a band. We’re just starting out.”

“What’s the band’s name?”

“We haven’t decided yet. We haven’t even gathered all the members.”

Hearing Cha Seoha’s answer, Jang Deokcheol felt a peculiar thrill.

Maybe I’m witnessing the first page of a massive band’s history.

He knew it was a stretch, but there was something magical about Cha Seoha’s playing that made him feel this way.

“Keep coming back to my shop. I’ll give you a really good deal. No, wait. Just come ask me if you need anything. I’ll help if I can.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because you’re so good. I want to be friends with you before you become famous.”

A smile bloomed at his half-joking, half-serious remark.

“In that case, could you perhaps introduce us to a recording studio?”

“A recording studio? Of course. What are your names? I’ll let them know in advance.”

“I’m Cha Seoha, and this is Heo Junseong and Lee Doyoung.”

“I’m Jang Deokcheol. But why a recording studio? Didn’t you say you haven’t gathered all your members yet?”

He asked this because bands typically use recording studios to make demo tapes or mix tapes.

“I’m planning to do some songwriting.”

“Songwriting? You write songs too?”

“Of course. I’m better at it than playing.”

“And the vocals?”

“The vocals are a bit better than the songwriting.”

Jang Deokcheol wore a peculiar expression at their exchange.

Cha Seoha’s guitar skills were genuine, but could she really be that good at songwriting too?

The gap between a good musician and a good composer was as vast as the distance between a good guitarist and a good bassist. Not entirely distant, but not close either. It was hard to readily believe, given that God was supposed to be fair.

He’s just a high school student.

“Leave your number here. I’ll have the studio call you.”

“I could do it myself…”

“It’ll be much cheaper if I do it, right?”

At Jang Deokcheol’s words, Cha Seoha lowered her head sharply. She didn’t have much money at the moment.

By then, Lee Doyoung had finished changing his bass strings. As they were about to leave the arcade, Jang Deokcheol stopped Cha Seoha.

“What will you do once you’ve gathered all the members?”

He was asking about her plans. Jang Deokcheol had many connections in the indie band scene, including small venues that hosted performances. If a student like Cha Seoha mentioned “gigs,” “busking,” or “practice,” he could naturally connect her with them.

Cha Seoha’s answer, given with a wide smile, was unexpected. “I’m going to cause a stir.”

In that smile, I didn’t smell ambition or longing, but youth.

The next day, thanks to President Jang Deokcheol’s help, I headed to ST Studio, which he had booked for me.
The building itself exuded an old-fashioned charm, but surprisingly, the interior was well-maintained and tidy.
“Hello. I’m Cha Seoha, here for my reservation.”
A staff member checked my booking and showed me to the studio.
The equipment was even better than I’d expected.
It wasn’t that it was plastered with expensive gear, but rather that it prioritized suitability over price.
There are certain combinations where a specific guitar sounds best with a particular amp.
Some guitarists from legendary rock bands even bought every amp in the world to find their own unique tone.

As a result, some combinations have historically proven to be “good combinations,” and I can feel the president’s genuine passion for music.

“Hmm. Where should I start?”

The easiest way to succeed again is to simply reuse songs that have already been successful.

Even while active as an idol, I never stopped composing, creating and achieving success with countless songs.

It had become second nature for me to dominate the charts every time I released a new song.

But I don’t want to repeat the past.

I could sell my existing songs to others, but I don’t want to force Cha Seoha’s sensibilities onto our music.

I want to make music that all the band members can enjoy and find fulfilling.

In that case, it has to be…

This song would be a good start.

Rendez-vous.