The freshman concert began.
The second-year practical music students, along with teachers and instructors, sat in the audience and watched the stage. The first student scheduled to perform was busily setting something up onstage.
Each student only got two minutes on stage. With eighty students performing, it couldn't be helped.
That was two hours and forty minutes of pure stage time. Add setup time between acts, and it became around four hours.
Naturally, both the performers and the audience got exhausted. That was why the later your performance, the worse your odds.
In that sense, Yoon Hajun was at a big disadvantage. His performance number was seventy-one, very late in the lineup.
But Hajun showed no sign of displeasure. He just quietly watched the stage.
Soon, the first performance began.
The first to take the stage was Jin Sohyang. As expected from a current idol, she prepared a very flashy stage. However, her vocals held her back. Even so, her rich stage experience and polished performance were enough to capture the audience's attention.
The second performer was Lee Sangkyu. A composition major, he chose to play his own piece on the piano instead of bringing a vocalist.
The performances continued. Second-year students in the audience whispered among themselves as they watched.
"Jin Sohyang was worse than I expected, right?"
"She dances well, but she can't sing."
"Then why was she first? She's in an even-numbered class."
"She's the first-year poster girl. She got in with idol privileges, so of course."
"Then what about the student who entered first in the rankings?"
Normally, the first performance in an event belonged to the student who entered with the top score. But because of Jin Sohyang, the top student's performance was pushed back.
"I heard that kid sings insanely well."
The second-years kept talking. Meanwhile, the performances continued.
It felt bad to say it, since the first-years worked hard, but the overall quality wasn't that high.
Then again, it was only natural. They only had two months of classes before preparing these stages. Even the second-years judging them now were rough back then.
And then—the fourth performance. It was Han Goyo's turn.
The moment the MC announced her name, the audience began to buzz. There were a few first-years so famous that even the second-years knew them. The most famous of them all was Han Goyo.
Han Goyo stepped onto the stage wearing a black dress. The buzzing audience went silent. Second-years who were chatting stopped talking and focused on the stage.
A brief silence. Then, the performance started.
—Turn down the music.
The stage Han Goyo prepared was extremely plain. No flashy lights, no loud effects, nothing. She simply stood alone onstage and sang.
—There are so many things I want, but I can't have them all.
But that alone was enough. With only her voice, Han Goyo completely dominated the stage. Gasps and admiration burst from the audience.
"Truly overwhelming."
Jin Mansu, the first-year vocal instructor, said that to Ha Hyoju. Ha Hyoju nodded and looked at the stage.
She had heard countless stories about Han Goyo. At first, she thought they were just exaggerated student rumors. But seeing it herself—there was no exaggeration at all. She was on a different level.
To the point where she felt sorry for the students who would forever be compared to her.
Soon after, Han Goyo's performance ended. Soft applause echoed in the audience. It was a performance anyone would be proud of.
However, Han Goyo's face showed nothing. She stepped down with the same indifferent expression as always.
The performances continued. But none had an impact like Han Goyo.
…Well, there was one exception. Kang Sunghoon.
His stage with Jin Sohyang left a strong impression on the audience. A hook song with a catchy, repetitive chorus. Polished choreography. Stage outfits that perfectly matched the concept. It felt less like a student stage and more like watching an idol group.
How's that?
After finishing, Sunghoon glanced at the "delinquent," Yoon Hajun. But Hajun didn't even look at him. He just kept yawning, sleepy as ever.
He's ignoring me?
Sunghoon ground his teeth. He simply could not stand that delinquent.
Thus, all the odd-numbered class performances ended. After a short break, the even-numbered class would begin.
Hajun, who had been dozing off in his seat the whole time, stood up. At the same moment, Han Goyo, now changed into new clothes, walked into the waiting room.
Even-numbered class students looked shocked when they saw her. Unlike her usual plain look—and even unlike her first performance where she wore light makeup—this time, she had heavy stage makeup on.
"That's acceptable."
Hajun yawned widely and spoke with sleepy eyes. Then he handed her all of the props he had prepared.
After receiving them, Goyo looked at Hajun and carefully asked, "How was my performance?"
"Of course it was good."
"Good to hea…?"
She stopped speaking mid-sentence. …What was I just about to say? She didn't even understand it herself.
"Why?"
"It's nothing."
Goyo shook her head. As if it really was nothing.
§ §
The first performer of the even-numbered class was Kim Taeyoung. His stage was an energetic funk rock performance. Running around and singing with high energy, his performance could easily be compared to a real concert.
"A natural attention-seeker."
Hajun muttered as he watched.
"Attention-seeker," "clout chaser"—it sounded like an insult, but in the world of singers, it was actually a compliment. Singers survived on public attention.
Taeyoung greeted the second-years in the audience with flashy showmanship. That was who he was. Even in piano competitions, he was known for his showmanship—so much that people were divided on him. But once he became a singer, that "division" turned into overwhelming praise.
That showmanship was what would one day make him a world-class star.
With a final flamboyant farewell, Taeyoung's stage ended. Breathing heavily, he got off the stage. It was his first time performing as a vocal major. It was far more fun than he expected.
And at the same time, he felt a deep sense of longing. He wanted more. More, more, more.
He looked at Hajun, as if asking, "You saw that, right?" He tilted his head slightly and smiled.
Hajun clicked his tongue. Then gave him a single nod. That was enough.
Taeyoung left the waiting room and returned to the audience. After finishing their stages, students had to watch from the audience.
He saw the odd-numbered class students sitting in their seats. Their expressions were serious. Of course—everyone was a rival. It was natural to be concerned about others' performances.
Taeyoung sat and looked at the stage. To be honest, except for one performance, he didn't care about any of them. They called it the gathering of geniuses, but to Taeyoung, most of them were just average. Only a very small handful were above expectations.
Another student went onstage. What was his name…? They were in the same class, but he couldn't remember. And the performance was mediocre.
The stages continued. Haaaam—someone yawned nearby.
Before long, more than half the even-numbered students had performed. Another short break. Students in the audience groaned in exhaustion.
"My ears hurt."
"I'm so sick of this…"
In events, impact is everything. And what's the safest way to create impact in singing? High notes.
People complain about "high note addiction," but there's no denying—they pack a punch. So almost every vocal major kept going for high notes. Naturally, everyone's ears were getting tired.
Break time ended. The performances resumed. Only twenty students remained. One by one, they went onstage.
The students watched with exhausted expressions. This was exactly why going late was disadvantageous. At least the teachers were still judging fairly, but they were just as tired.
Taeyoung covered his mouth, yawning quietly. He wanted to leave. But he couldn't. Because his most anticipated performance was coming.
Students continued to go up.
Sixty-fourth.
Sixty-fifth.
Sixty-sixth.
As his turn approached, Taeyoung felt excitement so intense it made him anxious.
Sixty-seventh. Boring.
Sixty-eighth. He wasn't even paying attention.
Sixty-ninth.
Seventieth.
And then—seventy-first.
Finally—his stage began. The previous student stepped off. The lights went out. In the darkness, someone used a ladder to install something onstage.
"He's taking forever."
"What, is he setting up machinery or something?"
People were murmuring. But Taeyoung didn't hear any of it.
Soon, setup was complete. The MC introduced the performer through the microphone.
"Next up is Class 8 Composition Major, Yoon Hajun."
With that short introduction, the MC stepped off stage.
The lights remained off. The stage was completely dark. Nothing could be seen.
Then an instrument began to play.
Jiiiiing… jing…
A bone-chilling string sound. No—was that even an instrument? It sounded like a whale crying… or some eerie unknown creature wailing.
Students shuddered and rubbed their arms.
Waterphone. An effect instrument often used in horror movies.
Not long after, violin layered on top of the waterphone. A fast violin melody intertwined with it, making the atmosphere heavy and tense.
Gradually, both the violin and waterphone faded. Quieter… quieter… even quieter. Until it was so soft, you had to strain your ears to hear it.
And then—it began to rain. The rain was so loud it silenced everything.
At the same time, the stage lights turned on. It was raining on stage.
The transparent curtain Hajun had installed revealed itself under the lights. And behind that curtain—Han Goyo stood in a white dress.
"Holy shit."
Someone blurted out a curse-laced gasp of awe.
Taeyoung ignored it and focused on the stage.
The small auditorium was usually warm, but for some reason, it felt freezing.
The rain began to fade. Then Han Goyo lifted the microphone.
—I wished to be special. I thought the song was meant for me.
Her trembling tone flowed out, accompanied by piano. The violin, which had quieted earlier, swelled again. They blended into a seamless harmony.
—But I knew. There was no song meant just for me.
A blue light shined on her. In a white dress, with red flowers wrapped around her hand, Goyo lifted her head. Slowly, she raised her hand to cover her face.
At that moment, dry ice smoke rolled out. The smoke curled around her feet.
The blue light bathed her. The rain-soaked curtain surrounded her silhouette.
People were drawn in by the mysterious aura of Han Goyo.
From below the stage, Hajun watched. A surge of emotion hit him. Everything on that stage existed to make Goyo shine. And up there, she radiated an overwhelming presence. To Hajun, the sight was blindingly brilliant.
The stage is a drug. Once you're hooked, you never escape.
Props prepared just for you. Staff working just for you. An audience listening only to your voice.
Under the spotlight, you sing and meet the gaze of everyone watching.
Hajun had once been enchanted by that stage. He had wanted to stand there forever. Sing his own songs, on his own stage.
But the stage is cruel. If you have no talent and reach for it anyway, all you do is realize how untalented you are.
People turn away. No one looks at you.
You're standing on stage—you're singing—but nobody cares.
Eventually, Hajun was forced to face reality. But by then, it was too late. He had already lost everything.
Then he got another chance.
Hajun clenched his fist. In this life, he had given up being on stage. No—he chose a different way.
He looked at the stage.
—Just because someone falls, the world won't change.
Onstage, Han Goyo was singing. This time, she turned and looked toward the audience.
The lights were off in the seats—it was dark. The audience was completely immersed in her.
The talented ones were in awe. At his song—not anyone else's.
Once more, Hajun looked at the stage. Han Goyo was singing. On the stage he created.
—Because there's no song meant for me…
With someone else's voice, his song reached the world.
The climax. Han Goyo unleashed her high note. Her vocal power was so immense, the entire auditorium shook.
Her emotion blended into the melody, slamming into everyone's body. It was overwhelming. Some people curled up, shivering.
Goyo was the one singing onstage. But she was not the owner of the stage.
The true owner was Hajun. Everything up there, every element—he prepared it.
Sleeping only two hours a day, pouring in many times more effort than others. A talentless average guy had to work many times harder to surpass geniuses.
Everyone at Seolwon Arts High had talent. Hajun had to survive among them. To do that, he had to use everything he had.
The rain stopped. The sound of rain faded. The lights went out. Only a faint instrumental murmured.
But the stage still wasn't over. In total darkness—
—Truth is, I already knew. That I had nothing at all.
The stage ended.
§ §
Hajun's performance was over.
Taeyoung stared at the stage in disbelief, letting out a stunned laugh. Was that really a performance by another student? It was simply overwhelming.
And not just Taeyoung. Most of the audience was completely crushed.
Soon, whispers began to spread. "Yoon Hajun…" Exactly as he intended.
But the ones who said his name the most were the teachers.
"Entered as a vocal major, then switched to composition…"
So far, nothing special. Changing majors was more common than people thought. Doing it early was a bit unusual, but that was it. A completely ordinary student.
But the stage he just showed was far beyond student level.
"Amazing."
"It's the first time anyone brought this level of stage props, isn't it?"
"It's the first time we've seen real stage props."
Others had simple props. At best, Jin Sohyang used a wind machine. Most used small trinkets or accessories. No one had ever used full-scale props like Hajun.
And he used them perfectly.
Sure, with enough experience, some students might eventually prepare something like this. But the key word was eventually. Right now, it was impossible.
What Hajun had—what no other student had—was ten years of experience from a life he couldn't let go of. That difference was crystal clear on stage.
"But the most important part is the song."
"…The song, huh."
"What did you think?"
"It was just… overwhelming."
Jin Mansu answered honestly. Ha Hyoju nodded in agreement.
The stage wasn't the only thing perfect. A great stage required a great song. And Hajun's song was phenomenal.
It wasn't the kind of song you could listen to often. The progression was dark, gloomy, heavy. The opening waterphone, the violin, the rain—they built tension and unease.
But this song was never meant to be listened to casually. It was built specifically for stage impact.
And for that purpose—perfect.
The opening instrumentation heightened tension and focus. The rain refreshed the atmosphere and added mystique visually. Every part of the song aligned perfectly with the stage elements. The flow was smooth, with no gaps.
Above all, the meticulous care for the vocalist stood out. It wasn't a song Han Goyo could sing. It was a song only Han Goyo was made to sing.
Even if it lacked mass-market pop appeal, in terms of artistry, among all songs written by composition majors, it was easily number one.
While everyone marveled at Hajun's stage, one person clenched his teeth.
"This is bullshit."
Kang Sunghoon.
He stared blankly at the stage. That stage replayed in his mind. He grit his teeth. No matter what, he couldn't believe that was the stage of a fellow first-year.
Sunghoon had been confident. Even if Hajun was working with Han Goyo, Sunghoon believed his own compositional talent was far superior.
He poured in twice the time. He sacrificed sleep to prepare his stage. He was certain he'd take top marks in composition.
But that certainty was just shattered.
He was forced to accept it. Today, he lost. Completely. Without a shred of doubt.
Sunghoon clenched his jaw so hard it hurt. Hajun wasn't just some delinquent. He possessed a talent even brighter than anyone. Maybe… even more than Han Goyo. Sunghoon truly believed it.
"Good work."
But regardless of what Sunghoon thought, Hajun approached the returning Goyo and handed her water.
Instead of replying, she quietly took the bottle and drank. After catching her breath, she looked at Hajun.
Her mind was a mess. There were so many things she wanted to say, but she didn't know how.
"…How was it?"
After all that thought, she could only ask her usual question.
Hajun smiled. He gently tapped her shoulder.
"It was perfect."
With that, he walked past her and headed toward the audience.
Goyo blankly watched his back.
The spot on her shoulder where his hand touched felt warm.
Continue reading up to chapter 40+ at Novelshub.org
Continue reading up to chapter 40+ at Novelshub.org