RHCB ~ 03

Chapter – 03

The next day.

Lee Do-young stared at his textbook, his face looking completely drained.
Perhaps it was due to the lack of sleep, but even though his eyes were on the page, the words refused to register in his head.

Right then, Heo Jun-sung and Cha Seo-ha—the very two responsible for keeping him up all night—walked into the classroom side by side, carrying handfuls of bread.

Lunch break had just ended; were they really not full yet? Do-young glanced at them out of the corner of his eye, the thought crossing his mind.

Even though he tried not to care, his eyes kept drifting toward them.
As soon as the two sat down, they tore into the bread.
“Next period is math. Wanna ditch?”

The shamelessness in Heo Jun-sung’s voice as he so casually abandoned his duties as a student was truly something else.
“A student should attend class. What are you, a thug?”
Cha Seo-ha, suddenly acting like a model student, was somehow even more shameless.
“What nonsense. You’re the bastard who falls asleep first every single period.”
“I’m not sleeping.”

“Then what are you doing?”
“I am putting in the effort to understand the book.”
“What?”
“Think about it. Aren’t I affectionately pressing my forehead against the book and closing my eyes?”
“Are you a lunatic?”
“I love you, book.”
“Yep, definitely a lunatic.”
What on earth was this conversation?
It was so absurd that Do-young let out a burst of laughter without realizing it.
Belatedly realizing that his laugh had been too loud, he hurriedly buried his face in his arms and pretended to sleep.

Thump, thump.

His heart began to race. What if they thought he was mocking them? That wasn’t it at all. 

More than anything, he worried they might feel offended that he was eavesdropping after having flatly rejected their offer just yesterday.

 As he prayed that the two hadn’t heard him, someone, most unkindly, tapped on his shoulder.

 A voice called out, making it utterly impossible for him to keep pretending to sleep.

 “You’re also in the middle of understanding the book, aren’t you?” 

…Damn it. 

“…What?” 

Lifting his head in sheer resignation, he saw Cha Seo-ha standing in front of him with his arms crossed.

 “Have you given it any thought?”

 “Didn’t we talk about this yesterday?”

 “Yesterday was a rejection, but your mind might have changed today, right?” 

“In just one day?” 

“Well, I quit Taekwondo after just one day.” 

It sounded surprisingly serious, leaving Do-young at a loss for words. 

Come to think of it, he had wondered why Seo-ha was attending classes instead of going to training; it seemed he really had quit Taekwondo. 

They definitely said he was the school’s ace, though…

 “So, want to join the band?”

 “…Sorry.” 

“No need to be sorry. If that’s how you feel, there’s nothing to be done. I’ll ask you again tomorrow.”

 What? He was going to ask again tomorrow? Why? 

Cha Seo-ha’s reaction only deepened the mystery.

 To form a band, a bassist was obviously necessary, but he wasn’t the only person who played the bass. 

They could probably find a few if they looked around this school, and outside of school, the options were even broader.

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

The world was full of geniuses.

And compared to those geniuses, he was absolutely nothing.
Lee Do-young had already felt that exact sentiment before.

Most acutely.
Yet, for some reason, Cha Seo-ha seemed to have taken a liking to him.
“…….”

He didn’t possess any particularly special talent, so why did Seo-ha keep urging him to join the band?

 Just as he was about to ask why— 

Ding-dong-dang-dong. 

The chime signaling the start of class rang at the perfect moment. 

“Study hard in class.”

Cha Seo-ha gave him a cool pat on the shoulder and returned to his seat.
Though his curiosity was burning, once the timing was lost, it wasn’t easy to strike up the conversation again.

Will he really ask me again tomorrow?

With a strange sense of anticipation budding inside him, the fact that he hadn’t previewed his math lesson didn’t worry him all that much.

Throughout the entire class, I thought about how to persuade Lee Do-young.
Unlike the simple-minded Heo Jun-sung, Lee Do-young was definitely not going to be an easy sell.
While I was certain he would eventually join the band, a proper method of persuasion didn’t readily come to mind.

After all, every single memory we shared only happened after he had picked up the bass in the band. 

To lure the model-student version of Lee Do-young, showing him that this proposal wasn’t just a fleeting impulse seemed like the best approach… 

It felt like I also needed a little something extra.

After class ended, while I was still deep in thought, Heo Jun-sung slung an arm around my shoulder.

“Cha Seo-ha.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you busy today?”
“No.”

As if used to my curt answers, Heo Jun-sung shrugged.
“I need to change my guitar strings. Want to come along?”
“Where are you going?”

“Nakwon Music Shopping Center.”
It had been a very long time since I last heard the name Nakwon.

If Yongsan was famous for electronics, Nakwon was the equivalent for musical instruments.

If you weren’t careful, you could easily become a sucker paying double the market price, but if you went in knowing your stuff, the advantages were massive, which is why many musicians frequented the place.

On top of that, because it was a gathering hub for music lovers, it was convenient for networking, exchanging information, or booking practice rooms and recording studios. I should start working on songs soon, too… 

“Sure, let’s go.”

At my words, Heo Jun-sung nodded with satisfaction and asked, “By the way, do you even know how to play the guitar?”

“Just… so-so.”
Though I had hit 2.5 million copies in first-week sales as a male solo artist with my own self-composed songs, that wasn’t in this lifetime.

At this point in time, I hadn’t properly handled a guitar, so my hands would be stiff.
“Then should this hyung give you a few pointers?”
Heo Jun-sung spoke with a crooked smirk, his attitude radiating pure arrogance.
“You?”

“What’s with that reaction? Who was the one who scouted me after seeing me busking?”

 Ah, right, that was the setup. 

“I just saw potential. Potential.”

“That’s only because you’ve only seen me busking. Should I show you my real skills?”
“Show them to someone who wants them. Keep them to yourself.”
“……You know, sometimes you sound exactly like an old man.”
An old man.

I was barely in my late twenties.
It put me in a bad mood.
It looked like I would have to show Heo Jun-sung what’s what at Nakwon Music Shopping Center.

‘String’s Resonance,’ a guitar specialty shop located within Nakwon Music Shopping Center, was a space that Jang Deok-chul had built up over twenty years.
As a former guitarist, he had opened the instrument shop after his band disbanded.
There wasn’t any grand reason behind it.

The guitar was simply the field he knew best, and even after retiring, he wanted to converse and mingle casually with various musicians.
Therefore, seeing beginners like these high school boys naturally brought a warm smile to his face.
With a genial grin, Jang Deok-chul handed over the guitar he had finished servicing.
“I did a general inspection while changing the strings. Check it out.”
“Thank you.”

The student who received the guitar meticulously checked its condition. Looking at it during the inspection, it was clear he treated the instrument with care.
He looked to be about a high schooler.
‘I used to be like that too.’
The tall student wasn’t even wearing his school uniform properly. His tie was nowhere to be seen, and his shirt was casually unbuttoned.
Others might have deemed him a delinquent, but Jang Deok-chul viewed the boy positively, reminded of his own youth.

External appearances didn’t necessarily reflect the inside.
Jang Deok-chul himself had once lived through a time dressing in ways the older generation found atrocious.
Right then, the student holding the guitar lightly began to play.
‘Oh.’

It was better than he expected.
It was by ‘Pinch Address,’ a band that had dominated the 1980s.
In particular, the intro of that song was so famous that anyone who had ever picked up a guitar had tried playing it at least once.
Since it followed a single E7 chord progression and the playstyle itself wasn’t overly complex, some people looked down on it, but that was a foolish take.
Imitating its unique groove was no easy feat, and more often than not, players failed to capture the same flavor as the original track.

While it sounded simple just listening to it, countless people realized how vastly different their own attempt felt once they actually tried playing it.
In short, it was a song that required awakening one’s senses to play, rather than just memorizing sheet music.
The moment the student brought his pick to the strings, the familiar riff burst forth.
A fairly relaxed, clean performance that brought out his own sense of rhythm.
He possessed the ability to add flair to a seemingly ordinary piece.
Furthermore, he displayed a level of confidence that could never be flaunted by someone who had only tried it a few times.
It was an excellent performance that offered a glimpse into his proficiency and practice hours.
Jang Deok-chul nodded in satisfaction. For a high schooler, this was quite a commendable display.

As expected, capturing the unique groove left a tiny bit to be desired, but his fundamentals were so solid that his future as a guitarist looked incredibly promising.

 As the performance came to an end, Jang Deok-chul nodded and gave a thumbs-up. 

“You play well.”

 “Thank you for listening.” 

Contrary to his impression, he was a polite student. 

It was then. 

The other male student, who had been quietly listening to the guitar performance, spoke up with an indifferent expression.

 “You play worse than I thought, Heo Jun-sung. Is it still too early for you?”

 Jang Deok-chul’s eyes instantly widened at the unexpected remark. 

Wasn’t that excellent for his age?

“What?” 

Heo Jun-sung was equally taken aback. 

He didn’t think his performance was flawless, but he didn’t think it fell short either. 

He even took pride in being highly skilled among his peers.

 At first, he tried to brush it off, thinking his friend was speaking out of ignorance, but strangely, Cha Seo-ha’s expression bothered him. 

“Did you say I played bad?” 

“Not that. I said you played worse than I thought.” “What’s the difference?” 

“I just figured you’d play better.”

 “What does someone who can’t even play the guitar know?” 

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

“Ha, really? Then you give it a try.” 

Unable to control his temper, Heo Jun-sung roughly thrust the guitar toward Cha Seo-ha. 

“Prove it.” 

“……Prove it?”

 Staring quietly at the guitar, Cha Seo-ha curled his lips into a smirk and took the instrument. 

As the following melody flowed, Heo Jun-sung instinctively flinched.

  What, he’s playing the same song?

How does he know this song?

No, knowing it was one thing, but even if it sounded easy, this was by no means an easy song to express.

In that instant, Cha Seo-ha’s hands began to move unhurriedly.
It wasn’t a song meant to be played sluggishly, yet it felt leisurely.
The actual tempo wasn’t slow, but it didn’t convey even a shred of franticness.
Naturally delivering the melody, naturally carving out the rhythm.
Cha Seo-ha was showing him.

‘This is a song from an era that cried out for freedom. You have to express yourself freely.’ 

At certain points, it felt as though he was guiding him, instinctively pushing and pulling the rhythm. 

‘Why are you playing exactly as you were taught?’ 

It was undeniably the same song, but the expressiveness was on another level. 

‘Don’t just showcase your practice hours; express yourself.’ 

Furthermore, Cha Seo-ha inserted his own riffs between the designated notes, projecting exactly who he was.

The riffs woven in here and there weren’t part of the original track.
The difficulty was simple, but it was a performance drenched in emotion.
And Heo Jun-sung understood exactly what Cha Seo-ha was trying to say.
‘You aren’t just performing.’

‘You’re letting them hear.’
Not boasting, but empathizing.
Not a technician, but a messenger.
Ultimately, when the music stopped, Heo Jun-sung couldn’t help but let out a sharp cry.
“Holy shit!”