“Oh, what’s Seoyeon doing, and why is she here alone?”
The president of Nova Entertainment, Kang Chan-yul, had been in an excellent mood lately.
There was good reason for this—thanks to Seoyeon’s recent brilliant performance, Nova Entertainment’s standing had soared significantly.
Considering that there had been no notable actors since Hwang Min-hwa, and when she left, it was rumored, “Nova Entertainment is done,” his current situation brought a strong sense of contrast.
“Seoyeon went to learn singing.”
“Singing? Ah, is it because of the OST project that just came in?”
Kang Chan-yul replied casually, but then paused mid-sentence.
Something about Jiyeon’s tone felt off.
“Is she practicing with our company’s vocal trainer?”
“No.”
At first, Han Da-young, who was a Vtuber and also a colleague to Jiyeon, had been approached, but then Seoyeon disappeared, seemingly remembering something.
From what was heard, it might be…
“She’s learning from a friend.”
“…A friend?”
Does she even have a friend outside Jiyeon? Kang Chan-yul thought absentmindedly, realizing the rudeness of his thought.
After all, Seoyeon’s social circle was extremely narrow.
“Anyway, what about our company’s vocal trainer?”
Kang Chan-yul muttered incredulously. Of course, Nova Entertainment wasn’t some hole-in-the-wall company; they definitely had a vocal trainer.
First off, Nova wasn’t even a company focused on actors—it also managed idols. Naturally, they had plenty of competent vocal trainers. So…
“I don’t know that either.”
Listening to Jiyeon say this, Kang Chan-yul felt both exasperation and curiosity about Seoyeon’s actions.
“Jiyeon-ah.”
“Yes.”
“You’re pouting, aren’t you?”
“…”
Seeing Jiyeon glaring daggers at him, Kang Chan-yul chuckled. After years of working closely together, he could read her thoughts perfectly.
‘Sometimes, the two of you are exactly alike.’
While Jiyeon sometimes frowned at Seoyeon’s wide circle of friends, in reality, even Jiyeon herself, despite pretending to be carefree, was quite similar in this aspect.
“Anyway, when she comes back, make sure to tell her that we also have a very capable vocal trainer here.”
“Yes.”
Separately, he wondered if she was causing trouble somewhere else. Seoyeon had always been an eccentric thinker.
***
As this conversation took place at Nova Entertainment, an eerie stillness reigned at Horyeon Studio, home to the idol group Summer Girls.
“Joo Seoyeon?”
Rabin took a dry gulp at the sight of the girl in front of her.
Of course, she knew exactly who the girl was.
She had appeared alongside Cha Na-hee in *Dream Future*.
“From *The Chaser*.”
She had also played the murderer in *The Chaser*, a movie that recently hit ten million viewers, catapulting her to stardom and making her one of the hottest competitors right now.
‘Why is she here with Na-hee?’
True, Cha Na-hee was the most popular girl in Summer Girls, but in Rabin’s eyes, Na-hee was just an unremarkable individual. Beyond singing well and looking good, there wasn’t much about her that stood out, and yet she was strangely beloved by the public.
And now Na-hee had somehow dragged here none other than Joo Seoyeon.
‘No, wait. Don’t be intimidated. Joo Seoyeon is practically still a rookie, isn’t she?’
Even though she had acted as a child actress in the past, it had been a decade-long hiatus. So, she was essentially a newcomer.
In fact, from a purely chronological standpoint, Summer Girls had been active in the entertainment scene for longer than her.
Why be intimidated by her?
“…”
As Seoyeon stared at them intently, Rabin swallowed nervously.
This girl had a rather chilling appearance.
Her blank gaze made her resemble a doll, lending her an almost inhuman quality.
‘But…’
She couldn’t allow herself to be overpowered like this.
“Uh… what an adorable face!”
“Is she a high schooler?”
“Must be tough, but you’re doing wonderfully!”
The Summer Girls members chattered away as Rabin broke the ice.
Calling her “adorable” was, in its own way, a power play, emphasizing their hierarchy with her.
In other words, it was a strong assertion that they were superior enough to call her adorable.
“…”
Seoyeon gazed at them silently in response to those words.
Under her calm gaze, the formerly chatty members of Summer Girls stiffened.
It was like being a mouse in front of a snake.
‘This sister’s aura is something else, isn’t it?’
‘What are you going to do about it then?’
This silent exchange passed between the members.
By contrast, Seoyeon thought to herself:
‘…Compliments from strangers are a bit embarrassing, aren’t they.’
She was only slightly abashed. After all, it was her first time hearing “cute” from idols. Perhaps she should have worn something other than her school uniform.
But she was too lazy to switch clothes.
‘Anyway…’
Seoyeon tilted her head, looking at the awkwardly stiffened Summer Girls.
‘Na-hee-ssi mentioned it could be difficult to talk to them.’
Perhaps they, like herself, were prone to feeling shy around strangers. With that realization, she nodded slightly.
If anything, she, the more proactive one, should take the lead in this situation.
“I’ve come to learn singing from Na-hee-ssi.”
To sing.
Upon hearing this, the eyes of the Summer Girls narrowed.
An actress learning to sing?
“That… that’s nice. I’ll borrow the practice room, then. I’ve already gotten the approval from our president.”
Na-hee inwardly sighed at the members’ reactions. She had learned during the drama shoot with Seoyeon that her co-star was incredibly gentle-natured—so innocent that it worried her how she’d survive in this harsh entertainment world. Seoyeon reminded her of a small Pomeranian or Retriever in demeanor.
This made Na-hee doubly worried about how Seoyeon would fare amidst her fiercely strong and sometimes aggressive groupmates.
‘At least her presence is strong enough that they’ll likely not mess with her.’
Seoyeon typically didn’t display much in the way of emotional fluctuations. Her gaze often made people hesitate to approach her. And then there was that aura only actors possessed.
‘Plus, her manager.’
Since bringing Seoyeon to the studio, there had been numerous issues nagging her mind.
First off,
“Seoyeon-ssi, if you come over to us, we’ll take really good care of you. You’ve only been with Nova Entertainment for a short while, right? If you switch now, it’s still possible.”
Somebody from the actor team approached her subtly with such a proposal.
Even their manager had, in a roundabout way, expressed that Horyeon Studio might be better than Nova Entertainment.
‘…Why are they doing this?’
Na-hee knew Horyeon was struggling recently, but wasn’t this quite rude? It made her cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“Well, then…”
She led Seoyeon toward the practice room. Since Horyeon Studio specialized in idols, the facilities were indeed superior to Nova’s. There were more sound equipment, and the studios were more fully equipped.
Of course, most of it wouldn’t be needed for a basic vocal lesson, but the training began with the members keeping their distance.
Surprisingly, Na-hee turned out to be pretty strict during practice.
“… Clearly, you’re lacking in technique.”
Na-hee was an idol with a knack for singing. Listening to Seoyeon sing acapella made her furrow her brows.
“The way you inject emotion into the lyrics is actually quite good… Is that because you’re an actress?”
At this, Seoyeon laughed awkwardly.
‘Originally, my inability to express emotions in my singing was a problem.’
In fact, Seoyeon’s singing was reasonably good. Though, that was more by normal karaoke standards.
Coupled with her inability to express proper emotions, her singing was hard to describe before.
‘Now, it’s the opposite.’
This made her realize just how heavily *Dream Future*’s soundtrack had been edited. No wonder fans so casually accepted the drama plot where “Joo Ha-rin” went downhill and “Song So-ha” rose. Objectively speaking, Song So-ha’s idol skills far outmatched Joo Ha-rin’s.
“First, your voice is beautiful, Seoyeon. We should focus on bringing that out to the fullest…”
And thus Na-hee’s vocal teaching began.
‘Two-tone voice? Chest voice?’
These unfamiliar terms flew into Seoyeon’s ears and stuck.
Thinking back, she had heard something similar when learning from Han Da-young at the voice acting school, though simplified for her level back then.
“…So, why don’t you give it a try?”
“Yes.”
Without hesitation, Na-hee put Seoyeon through rigorous practice. To her, it probably seemed merciless.
But Seoyeon didn’t mind, of course.
After all, with her formidable stamina, Seoyeon practically couldn’t tire from singing. Watching her, Na-hee inwardly marveled.
‘She has a beautiful voice, and great stamina.’
The more they practiced, the more progress Seoyeon made. Whoever had initially trained her seemed to have built a solid foundation.
She just lacked the ability to fully utilize it through her understanding.
‘Her acting performances were better than this, though.’
During the filming of episode 14, Seoyeon had delivered a performance that almost overshadowed Na-hee, which triggered a small sense of rivalrous pride within her.
‘A talent incarnate.’
Seoyeon was quite literally the embodiment of pure talent.
“It’s helpful to think of singing as another form of acting.”
Na-hee explained to Seoyeon, who fixed her unwavering gaze on her.
“Immerse yourself in the lyrics. The better you understand them, the better the song. Like how you immerse yourself in your lines when acting.”
If she could achieve that consistently, it would lead her to even better singing.
‘The person who asked Seoyeon to sing the OST probably didn’t have high expectations.’
She wasn’t even a professional singer after all. They’d likely be pleased just with her being able to competently perform the song without errors. The song itself was probably not selected for its difficulty.
But Na-hee wasn’t content with just that. After all, she had witnessed Seoyeon’s raw talent in episode 14.
“Ah, look at the time. Rest for a bit. I have some quick business to attend to.”
Reflecting on the events of the day, she recalled the meeting with the idol planner earlier. It seemed tied to upcoming Summer Girls activities—likely due to the success of *Dream Future*, which had significantly boosted Na-hee’s popularity. Perhaps there were additional projects planned.
“Haah.”
Though slightly exhausted, she believed being popular was better than being unknown. She thought this while leaving the practice room.
‘Horyeon’s situation isn’t as great as I thought.’
Na-hee vaguely remembered its history. It had been operating for quite some time.
But it wasn’t without its troubles. They weren’t shy about disbanding groups that weren’t profitable, and they often faced criticisms of favoritism.
Certainly, one member in particular had always been targeted…
“Hey? You’re all alone already?”
Suddenly, the members of Summer Girls approached her.
They were all slim and good-looking, but not outstandingly so. Among them, Na-hee was truly exceptional.
“Where’s Na-hee?”
“She temporarily left to take care of some business.”
“Ah, I see…”
Rabin chuckled at this.
“So you’ve been strutting around solo all this while, huh.”
Seoyeon narrowed her eyes slightly at that remark. It reminded her of the rumors around Summer Girls’ previous breakups.
“Because of her, we couldn’t properly engage in conversation earlier. What’s with that attitude?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Trying to monopolize you, probably.”
“Seoyeon, right? What do you like?”
The members peppered her with chatty questions. Some were quite impolite, asking about her special skills or what she excelled at.
At this, Seoyeon gave a faint smile.
“I’m quite good at magic tricks.”
“…Magic?”
“Do you happen to have a coin?”
Hearing this, the members exchanged looks with each other. Coins? They did have coins. Though it was surprising that she claimed to be good at magic, it wasn’t entirely unheard of for celebrities to have such a hobby.
“Here.”
When Rabin promptly handed over a 500-won coin, Seoyeon took it and said,
“I’m going to turn this into a 250-won coin right now.”
“250-won?”
How could she turn a 500-won coin into a 250-won one? They stared as Seoyeon held the coin with her right hand, pinching it between her thumb and forefinger.
And then, the 500-won coin folded perfectly in half.
“?”
The members of Summer Girls blinked in surprise.
As their heads turned, they saw Seoyeon smiling softly.
But the calm crimson eyes staring back at them were anything but friendly.
“Isn’t that cool?”
It was akin to telling them, ‘If you don’t want to be folded in half, behave yourselves.’
Seoyeon wasn’t in a particularly good mood right now.
Anger.
It was a surprisingly foreign emotion to Seoyeon.