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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: The Drummer's Rhythm
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The meeting time for the collaboration project with the music majors had ended.
Back in the musical theater classroom, the students gathered in small groups, chattering about their choices.
The noisiest bunch of all was the one swarming around Do-hyun, including Woo-sik and quite a few others.
"Aah, ah. Mic test. One, two. We're live on location."
Woo-sik held a ballpoint pen up to Do-hyun's mouth like it was a reporter's microphone—the same one he'd been clutching like a mic just moments ago.
"Teacher. What grand plan are you hatching this time?"
"You're calling me Teacher again? Pick one honorific and stick to it."
Here we go again.
Do-hyun waved him off like swatting a fly and pushed the pen away.
But this time, it wasn't just Woo-sik being a pest.
The moment he shoved Woo-sik aside, the kids waiting behind surged forward, elbowing him out of the way.
"Hey! Who hit my head?"
Woo-sik's indignant cry fell on deaf ears, sadly.
"You know that drummer kid?"
"What kind of dance are you planning with the drums? Do you go to a dance academy?"
It was a total marketplace racket.
Maybe he should've just left Woo-sik alone.
This wasn't the kind of attention he'd chosen it for—it left him flustered.
Kim Sun-woo watched the scene with a sly grin, content to spectate.
"Hmm. Looks like Lee Do-hyun stole my spot."
"Disappointed?"
"Nah, not at all. It's a relief, actually."
Moon Woo-hyuk tilted his head, peering down at the seated Kim Sun-woo.
Sometimes he really had no idea what this guy was thinking.
Kim Sun-woo hummed to himself, already mapping out dance routines in his head.
Song Ha-na, unusually quiet, was subtly leaning toward Do-hyun, ears perked.
Moon Woo-hyuk spotted her and poked at her to drag her away.
"Hey. Let's hit the vending machine."
"Nah. Go by yourself."
She answered without even glancing his way, which made Moon Woo-hyuk bristle. He grabbed her arm and shook it.
"Come on. I'll buy you strawberry milk."
"Strawberry milk? You think I'm not going 'cause I'm broke? Ugh."
"Hey, Kim Sun-woo. You too. I'll get you chocolate milk."
Finally fed up, Song Ha-na stood with a bicker, trading barbs with Moon Woo-hyuk.
Having barely succeeded in prying her up, Moon Woo-hyuk flashed a grin at Kim Sun-woo.
Kim Sun-woo chuckled at the pair and rose to follow.
He seemed back to his old self, for sure.
Annoying as that could be again.
***
After dinner, free time began.
Do-hyun hurried to the practice room Choi Sung-jin had mentioned earlier.
"So this is the drum studio."
It was in the basement of the music building, a place he'd peeked into before.
Two drum rooms sat side by side with a bit of space between them.
Cheongyeom Arts High had only two drum majors: Choi Sung-jin, a first-year, and one third-year, so they got their own personal studios.
Unlike other instruments, drums were a pain to lug around, needing a fixed space.
Moving them meant disassembling by parts, then fine-tuning the setup all over again—impractical for booking shared rooms like other students.
It was the school's way of cherishing their rare majors.
"No one here yet."
Peering through the small glass window in the door, the room was empty.
He tried the handle—just in case—and it opened.
Might as well go in and wait.
"Not as cramped as I thought."
Before regressing, he'd never even talked to a drum major.
So of course he'd never set foot in a drum room.
Soundproofing was priority, so all four walls were lined with heavy foam.
As a rare major, the equipment looked brand new, like it'd just been installed.
The space was bigger than expected—two or three times the size of a first-year vocal room.
"Whoa. All top-brand stuff."
He eyed the drum kit at the far end cautiously.
Knowing majors treasured their instruments, he kept his hands behind his back.
Every component gleamed with famous maker logos.
School-provided or personal buys, he didn't know, but they were seriously expensive.
"…Better not touch."
He hadn't planned to anyway, but he edged farther away.
He plopped into a folding chair to wait for Choi Sung-jin.
Then,
Knock knock.
Someone rapped on the door.
Did someone else have plans here too?
Not being the owner, he hesitated, then decided to open it.
He stood and pulled the door back.
"Sung-jin?"
Choi Sung-jin stood there.
Why knock? Do-hyun gave him a puzzled look.
Was the door locked? It hadn't been.
"Did I mess something up? It wouldn't open from outside?"
"No… it's just…"
"Huh?"
His voice was so soft it barely registered.
"First time someone's come into my practice room."
Choi Sung-jin shuffled inside, mumbling.
That his real personality?
Do-hyun knew from pre-regression rumors that Choi Sung-jin was painfully shy, but this shy?
It was a bit disconcerting, like he was even more reserved around him.
An awkward silence settled.
Still, he'd proposed the collab first, so he had to break the ice.
"Haha. It's your room—what am I doing? Should've waited outside."
He felt bad for accidentally making the owner knock.
Choi Sung-jin just shook his head at the words, saying nothing.
This won't do.
Better jump straight to collab talk.
Music seemed to loosen him up a bit earlier.
"So, uh, ever collabed with non-music majors before?"
"Nope."
Heavy silence again.
Makes sense—he was still in high school.
He'd meant collab within music dept, like with other genres at Cheongyeom's music side.
"Well, how about we each show our style first?"
He forced cheer, starting to stand.
"Wait."
Choi Sung-jin's tone shifted subtly.
"Yeah?"
"What kind of stage do you want?"
Music talk flowed, and his words picked up.
Voice still quiet, but a firm resolve shone through—dead serious about the music.
Yeah, that's more like it.
Do-hyun grinned, relieved.
"Here's what I'm thinking."
He sat back down and launched into it.
The plan: Fuse tap dance into "Perfect Jazz" from the musical *New York Night*.
But Choi Sung-jin looked confused, so Do-hyun stood.
"Words alone won't paint the full picture—it's all in my head. Let me demo simply."
Choi Sung-jin nodded faintly.
Do-hyun queued the track on his phone.
He eased into motion with "Perfect Jazz."
Tap, tap.
Indoor shoes dulled the crisp tap sound, but it didn't matter.
Choi Sung-jin's face changed.
*Fast.*
Dance was alien to him, yet he could tell.
This tap from a 17-year-old musical theater kid—not a dance major—was no joke.
Thin bangs quivered over his eyes.
Through them, wide-eyed awe flickered.
"Here, this part—tan tan tan. Like this."
He explained where the backing went, highlighting the scene's key beats.
"Strong-weak control is crucial. Cymbal, snare, rhythm—gotta hit spot-on."
Choi Sung-jin was startled by the seamless demo.
The detailed stage plan felt too polished for a day or two's work.
And just from this rough show-and-tell, the quality promised to be insane.
His heart raced.
*With my playing added?*
As the demo wrapped, Choi Sung-jin shyly clapped.
"Whoa…"
"Good?"
"Awesome."
He thrust up two thumbs.
The sweat paid off.
"Now, can I hear your drums, Sung-jin?"
Casual hope in his voice.
Choi Sung-jin paused, then nodded.
"Just drums, no other instruments in that song. Right?"
"Exactly."
Choi Sung-jin closed his eyes briefly.
Visualizing his playing over it, no doubt.
Then he nodded, slid to the kit.
He snatched a stick from the snare, tweaking angles and tones.
Quick adjustments matched his envisioned performance.
No hesitation whatsoever.
A far cry from the shy kid moments ago—zero timidity.
*Now I get that nickname.*
Do-hyun leaned against the wall, buzzing with anticipation.
"Here goes."
Do-hyun nodded at the ready signal.
Boom-boom-boom-boom—
Bass drum thundered instantly.
Pedal stomped hard to kick off.
The once-timid Choi Sung-jin wielded sticks with fierce eyes.
*Yeah. That's why the nickname.*
Pre-regression, he was "Choi Kill 'n' Choi Hide."
Drumming Choi versus off-duty: night and day.
By first-year's end, he'd blown up school-wide.
Still shy then, too.
But insane skill made him famous anyway.
The Cheongyeom Arts Festival solo drum set.
That's when he made his name.
Do-hyun had seen it—from the audience, since musical theater wasn't on then.
The shock lingered vividly.
Now, back at seventeen, witnessing it live.
*No wonder he'll be huge. Weird if he wasn't.*
Small frame, skinny arms—overwhelming rhythm, groove.
Heartbeat synced instinctively.
Relentless high-energy drive.
Perfect dynamics—pushing hard, then easing off.
*This is genius. Who else?*
Lost in awe, the piece ended.
Ears rang from the nonstop blast, yet he craved more.
"How was it…?"
Breath heaving, Choi Sung-jin reverted to full shyness.
"Honest opinion okay?"
Do-hyun chuckled at the sight.
Choi Sung-jin tensed, nodding slowly.
"Think I picked my teammate perfectly."
This round, he'd nudge Choi Sung-jin's fame a bit earlier.
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