34 – Giant Killing (6) 34.
The performance Yoon Hajun remembered from Han Goyo at the Practical Music Concert had been fairly ordinary. In other words, it had been a typical Han Goyo stage.
And that was not a bad thing.
Han Goyo's performances were always like that. What counted as other people's peak was merely her baseline. She delivered an absurdly high-level stage with unwavering consistency, to the point that people had begun to take it for granted.
So then… what about the stage right now?
This was nothing like her usual performances.
It was obvious she had prepared for this with everything she had. This stage existed on a completely different level. Even through a television screen, chills crawled up Yoon Hajun's arms.
He clenched his fist.
The Han Goyo singing right now felt like something unknown. Unidentifiable.
A strained sigh escaped his mouth.
Overwhelming talent could sometimes feel like violence.
But this was not merely violent.
This was a force of nature. A natural disaster.
—Because nothing lasts forever.
Her voice rang out. A voice pouring from such a small body devoured the entire concert hall. It was a level of talent so unfair it felt absurd.
Everyone watching Han Goyo's stage felt it.
Yoon Suyeon pressed her lips together.
Kim Taeyoung shook his head, stunned.
The agency representatives invited to Seolwon Arts High jolted upright in their seats.
Even the third-years, who were supposed to be preparing for their own main stage, stared at the television as if hypnotized.
Han Goyo, whether she was aware of it or not, continued singing while gazing up at the ceiling.
—I don't really know what fate is.But I met you…
Han Goyo had never possessed ambition for the stage.
No—she had deliberately lived while lacking many things.
She could not be allowed to have anything. She was not allowed to desire anything. That was the decision she had made.
To protect herself, she believed she needed to remain hollow.
—I longed for you every day…
In the middle of all that, she met someone.
After meeting him, she began to change.
A tomorrow she had never anticipated became something she looked forward to.
They did not talk much, but being with him felt peaceful. Whenever she messaged him, she hesitated for reasons she did not understand. Is it okay to send this? She would worry, then reply. Sometimes her hesitation stopped her from replying at all.
Being by his side felt warm, like standing in sunlight.
The school trip that had once been nothing more than an excuse to escape home became enjoyable only because of him.
The ocean she saw with him was beautiful—so beautiful it made her chest tighten.
The chocolate milk he gave her was delicious—so delicious she nearly cried.
The performance she shared with him was fun—so fun her heart felt as if it might burst.
—The you who came to me…
That girl named Jin Sohyang looked into her.
A cute person. An idol loved by many. Loved by her members as well.
And now, that kind of person was trying to take him away.
How petty.
She herself had nothing.
—Once again, I want to greet you…
The one thing she could not lose was the stage she shared with him. That moment was the only time in her life she had ever felt complete.
She would never let it be taken away.
—Because I met you, I want to say this…
Han Goyo was singing.
But this song was not for the audience. Nor was it a declaration of war toward Jin Sohyang.
This song was for only one person.
For the person who made her feel full.
I can sing like this.I want to sing your song.
Han Goyo was speaking through song.
—Aaaaaaah—
She climbed into a high note she would normally never attempt, expressing through sound how thinking of him made her heart feel as if it were exploding.
People were captivated. Shocked. Heartbroken. Spellbound.
Yoon Hajun was no exception.
He watched her stage as if hypnotized. Han Goyo's singing always stirred people's emotions—he knew that.
But this was not merely stirring.
It felt as though she was grabbing their hearts and shaking them violently.
His emotions surged out of control.
Yoon Hajun rubbed his face with his hand, trying to suppress the flood. His lips felt dry.
He knew Han Goyo was incredible, but he had never imagined this level.
He felt… grateful.
The thought struck him suddenly.
He was grateful he had quit being a vocalist.
If he had still been clinging to singing and witnessed this performance, he would have been destroyed.
There would have been no path forward. No way to reach her, no matter how much he practiced or worked.
He could never deliver a stage like this.
As that thought passed through him, Yoon Hajun turned to look at Jin Sohyang.
"Ah."
Her face had gone completely pale. Her hands trembled as they gripped her skirt.
A pang of sympathy pierced him.
It was easy to understand what she was feeling.
People would compare her.
After a performance that perfect, after witnessing talent that overwhelming, they would mock her stage.
She was probably thinking the same thing he would be thinking in her place.
Yoon Hajun bit his lip.
He could not let her go on stage like this.
A stage was pressure. Terrifying pressure.
Even singers with decades of experience trembled and relied on anxiety medication before performing.
A girl with only two years of experience could not possibly be immune—especially after witnessing a stage like that and then having to go on immediately after.
Developing stage fright would be natural.
Honestly, if she only ended up with stage fright, that would be lucky.
She could be crushed entirely.
"Jin Sohyang."
He called her, but she did not respond.
Her head remained lowered, her grip on her skirt so tight her knuckles had turned white.
Yoon Hajun could not stand it any longer.
He stood and approached her.
"Jin Sohyang."
Her body jolted. Slowly, she lifted her head and looked at him.
"It's okay," he said.
She bit her lower lip.
It's okay?What is?
How could anything be okay when she had to go on after that stage?
People would laugh at her. Her members would pity her. After the stage, they would hug her and say, It's okay.
The thought made her chest tighten.
She did not want pity.
That was not why she had prepared this stage.
She did it because she did not want regrets. Because she wanted to show her own stage—not to be measured against someone else.
Her breathing grew uneven.
She felt foolish for agreeing to perform. She wanted to cry. She wanted to run away.
Just then, something warm landed on her hand.
"Ah."
She looked down.
A hand larger than hers gently wrapped around it, softly and kindly, as if telling her that it truly was okay.
"It's okay."
His voice was gentle but firm.
She slowly raised her head and met his gaze. His familiar, languid eyes were close—so close.
In a trembling voice, she asked, "…Will it really be okay?"
"Of course."
He nodded. "You worked hard. You barely slept. You practiced nonstop."
"But after that stage—"
"The important thing isn't Han Goyo's stage. It's your stage."
Not her stage. My stage.
"I've been watching you the whole time. I know better than anyone how hard you worked. All you need to do is perform exactly how you practiced. If you do, people will remember your stage."
"…Do you really think so?"
"Of course."
He nodded with certainty, eyes never leaving hers.
It was strange. Why were his words always so convincing?
His hand was warm. His gaze was soft yet strong.
Looking into those eyes made her feel safe.
"I saw everything when you practiced," he said. How she clenched her teeth. How her knees trembled as she forced herself to move. How she endured because she did not want regret, because she did not want to run away.
"You worked harder than anyone. You have every right to be confident. Those hours weren't wasted."
She had poured everything into preparing this stage.
"Show them. Show everyone. Not Hwayangyeonhwa's maknae—show them Jin Sohyang's stage."
"…Ah."
Not Hwayangyeonhwa's maknae. Jin Sohyang's stage.
Her trembling stopped.
Seeing that, Yoon Hajun's eyes curved slightly.
"You can do it, right?"
"…Yes. I think I can."
"Not 'I think.'"
"I can do it."
He nodded, satisfied, then smiled—a pure, almost childlike smile.
"Good."
He stood, and Sohyang rose as well. She smoothed her wrinkled skirt and took a deep breath, then turned to him.
"Let's go."
Together, they left the waiting room and headed backstage.
The stage was still being reset. Fortunately, they were not late.
Once everything was cleared, the staff dragged the prop chair onto the stage. The lights remained off, making it difficult to see.
In the audience, people were still talking about Han Goyo. Not a single person looked their way.
Sohyang's hand trembled for a brief moment, but she steadied herself and prepared for the stage.
Center stage.
Yoon Hajun sat in the chair.
Sohyang tied him with the red rope. Just before placing the blindfold, she met his eyes.
"I'll do well."
"I believe you."
Instead of replying, she nodded and placed the blindfold over his eyes. Then she signaled to the staff.
There was no turning back now. No running away.
Not that she intended to.
In the darkness of the stage, Sohyang wrapped her arms around the chair. The warmth of Hajun's body through it calmed her.
POP.
Red light flooded the stage.
The audience fell silent, turning toward her.
And then came confusion.
Jin Sohyang looked nothing like usual.
She had always embodied sweetness—flowy dresses, cute styling, adorable props. Radiant and lovable.
But now?
A white shirt. A red skirt. Red ropes wrapped around her body like bindings. Large earrings. A handcuff-shaped bracelet. Red lipstick smeared deliberately.
Sexy?
No.
This was something far beyond that.
Dark. Decadent.
As she sang, she traced her fingers over the man bound to the chair. Each time the blindfolded man twitched, Sohyang smiled, as if she were enjoying it.
"That's… Sohyang?"
Hwayangyeonhwa's leader, Harin, muttered in disbelief.
Seeing the once purely cute maknae like this felt wrong.
Then the melody began.
—I don't know.Me.I don't know what this feeling is.
Lyrics that had once been lovely now felt completely different.
Sohyang continued stroking the blindfolded Hajun as she sang, as if she adored him so much she did not know what to do. Slowly, her caress grew rougher. Her nails dug into his skin. She gripped his clothes tightly.
—I'm not a kid anymore.I must be weird.
BANG.
The piano crashed violently, as if shattered on purpose. As the discordant notes repeated, Sohyang shoved the chair hard.
The wheeled chair slid offstage.
A staff member caught Hajun. After confirming his safety, Sohyang staggered to center stage, her hair disheveled.
—I love you, but it's hard to express it.
She swept her hair back and began to dance.
Under the red lights, gripping the rope, she knelt.
—I love only you.I only want you.
While kneeling, her body moved in a slow wave.
It was not sexy.
It was desperate, like someone struggling to breathe.
The audience stared in shock.
Was that really Jin Sohyang?
And more importantly—was this really "Rough"?
The once-sweet song was now drenched in obsession and madness.
"…Fuck."
Kang Seonghun let out a rare curse.
He already knew Yoon Hajun had arranged the song. When he heard Hajun was rearranging "Rough," he had been confident.
No matter how skilled Hajun was, he would not surpass him at rearranging "Rough."
That was his specialty.
Mainstream idol songs. Repetitive choruses. Cute point choreography.
And yet—
What was this?
This had nothing to do with mainstream appeal.
He had torn the entire structure apart, yet the core melody remained.
So yes, it was still "Rough."
Just a completely unhinged version of it.
Kang Seonghun bit his lip.
He had believed they were simply different types of composers. That each could do what the other could not.
He had been wrong.
It was not that Hajun could not do it.
He had simply never shown it.
And what he was showing now was overwhelming.
He had thought no stage could escape being overshadowed after Han Goyo's performance.
But Jin Sohyang had taken a different path and claimed a stage that belonged only to her.
And it was possible entirely because of this "Rough."
Same song. Different arrangement.
The difference in skill was undeniable.
Defeat pressed heavily on Kang Seonghun. He had never felt this way before.
He could not imagine surpassing him.
The stage continued.
Sohyang lay down, lifted her waist, and moved violently from head to toe, thrashing as if in pain.
—I'm not a kid anymore.I must be weird.Rough.
As the chorus repeated, she slowly raised her hand to her neck and wrapped her fingers around it.
—Whenever I think of you, I can't breathe.
She squeezed.
The camera zoomed in as the wind machine roared, the red ropes whipping wildly.
—My heart feels so tight.
With a suffocating expression, Sohyang sang.
The audience shuddered—not the same way as before.
Different goosebumps.
Sohyang staggered to the empty chair and embraced it.
—I want to hold the hand meant only for me.
She grasped the armrest where Hajun's hand had once been.
There was nothing there.
Even so, she held it tenderly, as if someone precious remained.
The song ended.
Sohyang collapsed, hugging the empty chair.
The red lights went out.
The stage ended.
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