GBAS 44

“But it’s not like you’re doing music as a hobby.”

When Jooin nodded, Hyunwoo asked as if he was puzzled.

“Then don’t you want to be a little successful? The owner said it earlier, too. To do it properly if you’re going to do it.”

Hyunwoo was genuinely curious. He didn’t know that many musicians, but Jooin’s skill was too good to be described simply as ‘good.’ Even he, a layman in music, could feel the difference, so he wondered if people who knew music well couldn’t see it. He suspected either his own ears were wrong, or they were failing to recognize it.

Hyunwoo believed that if someone was talented, they should absolutely succeed and show their talent to more people, but Jooin’s thoughts were different.

How could he not know? From the time he first learned to play the guitar, everyone he met told him he was born with hands good for playing the guitar. He had already noticed in his first year that his skills were good for his experience level. How would it be now, after several years?

But he never had any desire for success in the first place. Jooin was perfectly satisfied with being able to live without interference and continue making music. The income from weekly performances, combined with the pay from occasional recording requests, was enough to live on without doing other work.

He didn’t know how it looked to outsiders, but in this industry, making a living with music was sometimes understood as the same concept as success. Therefore, he had no major complaints about his current situation. Ah, he did have one wish. He hoped that his band members, with whom he had been in sync for a long time, wouldn’t suddenly run away saying they’d found another talent. That was all.

“Not really.”

Jooin, who had refuted the question, looked at Hyunwoo sitting across from him with his arms crossed. It seemed he had finished eating, so maybe it was time to get up. As he was thinking this, Hyunwoo asked.

“If you don’t have a company. Then how do you do promotions?”

“Just, you know. Instagram and…”

At Jooin’s words, Hyunwoo’s eyes lit up.

“You have an Instagram? Show me. Or do you want to tag it here?”

Seeing Hyunwoo rummaging through his pockets for his phone, Jooin couldn’t stand it and picked up his own phone that was on the table.

It took a while to find the app since he didn’t use it often. When he clicked the colorful app icon, the first screen showed travel photos of people he only saw in passing.

Jooin found the band’s public account at the very bottom of his profile’s following list, brought up the profile, and handed it to Hyunwoo. In the meantime, Hyunwoo, who had just gobbled up another dumpling, took the phone from Jooin while chewing.

“Wow.”

Hyunwoo let out an exclamation as soon as he saw the first screen. What on earth was he so surprised about? Curious, Jooin watched Hyunwoo’s expression.

Hyunwoo’s gaze rolled over the screen.

With each gesture, his expression grew more and more serious, and his chewing speed slowed down. Hyunwoo continued to click, check, dismiss, click, check, and dismiss the feed for a long time.

At first, he had handed it over lightly, thinking what was the big deal in looking, but seeing Hyunwoo’s serious expression throughout the whole process, he felt like a student having his homework checked.

Hyunwoo, seemingly finished with his inspection, extended the hand holding the phone to Jooin.

“……”

Jooin took the phone back, placed it in front of him, and looked at Hyunwoo. Hyunwoo, who had swallowed what was in his mouth, met Jooin’s eyes and said.

“It’s a mess.”

“…What?”

“Not to mention the concert promo from two years ago, but I’ve never seen such an ugly feed before.”

He poured out harsh criticism, but because his tone was so calm, it didn’t sound like a condemnation. While downing a glass of water, Hyunwoo repeated that something was seriously, fundamentally wrong.

‘Fine, let’s say it’s wrong. What do you want me to do about it?’ 

The words rose to the tip of Jooin’s tongue, but just before they could come out, Hyunwoo, who had been nagging, put down his empty glass and asked.

“So, when exactly is the concert?”

👾🎮

He didn’t know how it had come to this.

“I’m going to log this out, okay?”

An intruder had entered Jooin’s home, his rooftop hideout. No. He had let the intruder in.

When he was alone, he had never thought it was that small, but maybe because Hyunwoo wasn’t small in stature, the place felt significantly smaller.

Hyunwoo, who had looked around the room, spotted the monitor on the low desk attached to the wall next to the mattress and strode towards it. Hyunwoo put down his bag and asked.

“Hyung, can I turn on this fan?”

Dumbfounded by Hyunwoo, who looked much more natural than the homeowner himself, Jooin nodded.

“Uh-huh.”

Hyunwoo, hiking up his baggy pants and squatting down, ran a hand through his hair like a ritual.

First, Hyunwoo checked if the keyboard and mouse were responding well, then opened the bag he had brought. Taking out a shock-proof case, Hyunwoo pulled the zipper that went around all four sides, revealing a device half the size of his palm.

Inside was an external hard drive that could be called Hyunwoo’s second brain, collecting all sorts of ideas and data. He hadn’t brought it for this purpose, but it turned out to be perfect. When he connected the external hard drive to the main unit with a cable, a small notification window popped up on the screen.

While Hyunwoo was busily setting up his work environment, Jooin stood blankly by the entrance, watching what Hyunwoo was doing.

“……”

In fact, he was a little shocked. He had just belatedly realized that he had never let anyone other than his band members into his home.

‘How did I end up telling him to come?’

He didn’t know what he was thinking, bringing Hyunwoo all the way here.

He had been annoyed by Jeon Hyunwoo, who, after looking at the band’s profile, had said it was full of things to fix from beginning to end. “So what would you have done?” He had only thrown out the question with a cynical heart, but maybe that had lit a fire, as the motivated Hyunwoo started spouting off incomprehensible things.

When Jooin didn’t understand him at once, Hyunwoo, as if frustrated, took out a pen and started scribbling something on a restaurant napkin, then said, as if it was no use.

‘Can I show you at your house?’

Although he regretted bringing him all the way home, it was no use. What could he do about someone he had already brought?

Jooin started moving to overcome the awkwardness. First, he turned on the speaker on the storage box that was placed longwise between the entrance and the bed. The silence, which was so familiar when he was alone, felt strangely burdensome.

Jooin accessed a music streaming app and played a playlist of his frequently listened-to songs. Rhythmic music flowed into the space that had been filled with awkward air.

Then he turned on the air conditioner with the remote control he had placed next to it. It was to cool the air that had been heated by direct sunlight during the day. After confirming that the air conditioner’s blades were moving properly, Jooin took the wallet out of his pocket, placed it next to it, and approached Hyunwoo.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he could see the back of Hyunwoo’s head and the monitor screen clearly. Staring at the nape of his neck, tense as if he was nervous, Jooin casually asked.

“Aren’t you hot? Should I get you something to drink? I only have water, though.”

At Jooin’s question, Hyunwoo answered without turning around.

“I’m fine. I drank too much coffee earlier.”

Coffee? Jooin’s eyebrows flickered. A lemon scent wafted out every time he spoke, so he thought he was drinking iced tea. He was curious, but instead, Jooin looked at the glasses temple resting on Hyunwoo’s ear and asked.

“Do you only wear glasses when you work?”

“Mostly.”

“Is your eyesight bad?”

“Not really, it’s a habit.”

The sound of the mouse clicking was interspersed between their conversation.

Hyunwoo answered Jooin’s questions lightly while moving his hands skillfully. Was it because he was concentrating on something? Jooin thought Hyunwoo’s answers were more natural than before, when he had been stiff.

When the icon of a famous editing program appeared, Jooin pointed at the monitor and asked.

“Doesn’t that take a while to install?”

“It does. But it’s fine here. You use a capsule, Hyung.”

Hyunwoo finally turned around and pointed at the capsule placed next to the mattress. Just as Hyunwoo had said, that if the internet specs were good enough to run that, this was nothing, the program was installed in the blink of an eye.

“And these days, you can use cloud systems to load most settings right away. I happen to have my external hard drive, too.”

Hyunwoo, holding up the square device, hastily added a word.

“I absolutely did not come here for this from the beginning, I just happened to have it by luck.”

“Good for you.”

When Jooin answered dryly, Hyunwoo quickly refocused and clicked the mouse. As he was sitting next to him with his knees together, looking at the screen, the editing program launched.

After pausing for a moment with a new window open, Hyunwoo seemed to finish his thoughts and entered numbers into the small boxes without hesitation. When he clicked the ‘Create’ button, four blank screens that looked like white canvases spread out on the monitor.

Before he could even marvel at the new sight, Hyunwoo, who had been standing still, hesitantly turned around and asked.

“…Hyung, don’t you have anything to do?”