"Staff duty never ends," Jun-seo said with a weary smile, gesturing for me to follow him. "Come on. I need an extra pair of hands, and since you're the 'Representative,' you're technically staff."
I'm not even a part of Student Council, bruh. And it's Saturday! Why... Just why am I always getting into something I don't want to.
He led me through a side door into the Student Council Office.
If the lawn outside was a carnival, this room was the war room.
It was absolute, organized chaos. Phones were ringing, students were sprinting with clipboards, and a whiteboard covered in schedules was being aggressively updated.
"President!" A girl with glasses ran up to us, looking frantic. "The Taekwondo Club is demanding more water!"
"Approve three more crates," Jun-seo said calmly, not breaking stride. "Tell Kang-min to ration it."
"President!" A boy slid over on a rolling chair. "The Tourism Club just recruited three new members! They need update forms for the roster!"
"File it under 'Pending Admittance,' give them the temporary badges," Jun-seo commanded.
"Jun-seo-ah," a tall, broad-shouldered third-year student—a seonbae—walked by carrying a stack of chairs. He nodded respectfully. "Good work out there. The layout looks clean."
"Thank you, sunbae-nim," Jun-seo bowed politely.
I watched, wide-eyed. Even the seniors respected him. He wasn't just a figurehead; he was the engine running this entire school.
"Everyone," Jun-seo announced, raising his voice slightly. The room quieted down. "This is San-ssi. Our Representative of Foreign Students. He's helping out."
"Hello, San-ssi!" the room chorused in unison, then instantly went back to screaming about Council matters, like needing to prepare documents for the Principal, doing surveys and others.
"Right," Jun-seo said, walking over to a corner stacked with heavy-looking cardboard boxes. "We need to move these."
He bent down and lifted a large box. He did it with annoying grace—knees bent, back straight, lifting it as if it was filled with feathers.
"Grab that one," he nodded to the box next to it.
"Sure," I said.
I bent down. I gripped the handles. I lifted.
Holy...
My spine cracked. My arms screamed. The box felt like it was filled with lead bricks and the gravitational pull of a black hole.
What is in here? Gold bars? Unresolved trauma?
"You okay?" Jun-seo asked, looking back.
"Fine!" I wheezed, forcing a casual smile while every muscle in my upper body trembled. "Light as a... feather. Just... adjusting my grip."
I waddled after him, sweat instantly prickling my forehead.
We navigated the hallways, leaving the administrative wing and heading deep into the Music Wing. We stopped in front of a door I hadn't noticed before. It wasn't a classroom. It had a keypad lock.
Jun-seo punched in a code, pushed the door open with his back, and walked in.
"Just set it down there," he said, placing his box gently on a table.
I dropped mine with a heavy THUD that shook the floor, panting slightly. "Safe... and sound."
I straightened up and looked around.
It was a club room, but it felt... lived in. There was a small, raised stage in the corner with a drum kit, a keyboard stand, and several amps. A recording desk sat against the far wall, covered in cables and mixing gear.
But it was the walls that caught my attention.
They were lined with shelves, and those shelves were overflowing with history. Gold trophies, silver cups, framed certificates.
"23rd National High School Band Competition - 1st Place."
"Seoul Youth Music Festival - Grand Prize."
There was a glass display cabinet filled with photos.
I walked over, wiping the sweat from my brow. The photos showed bands from years past—students in outdated uniforms holding guitars, laughing, holding trophies.
There was even a photo with a guy who wore the same orange tracksuit that I did half a week ago. Indeed, the old design was meh.
My eyes drifted to a framed photo on the bottom shelf. It looked newer than the others.
There were five boys in it. They were younger, maybe middle school age.
Photo next to it was of the same boys, but they were older. It was the newest photo out there, I assumed.
They were wearing casual clothes, arms thrown around each other's shoulders, grinning at the camera with pure, unburdened happiness.
On the left was Jun-seo, looking less perfect and more genuinely joyful.
On the right was Myung-Dae, without the beanie, smiling—actually smiling—so wide his eyes were crinkled shut.
And in the middle... was another boy. He was tall, with shaggy hair and a gentle, charismatic face. He was holding a guitar.
Two other boys on the sides looked exactly the same, though the right one had a white strand of hair.
Twins? And why is everyone so handsome again? Bruh!
I stared at it. I blinked.
Like a fool, my brain didn't connect the dots immediately. I just thought, Huh, Jun-seo and Myung-Dae used to be friends. Who's the third wheel?
"Jun-seo-ssi," I asked, pointing at the room. "What is this place? It's not a classroom, is it?"
Jun-seo was organizing the contents of the box—cables and microphones. He stopped. He looked up, his eyes scanning the room, lingering for a split second on the photo I was looking at. A shadow passed over his face.
"No," he said quietly. "This isn't a classroom."
He straightened up, looking at the empty stage.
"This is the club room for the 'School Bands Club.' It's where the official school bands practices."
The School Bands Club.
Realization hit me like a slap to the face.
And that boy in the photo... that had to be him.
Jin-woo.