Ch.104104. Funny Bastard

Pitter-patter-patter

Rain began to pour down from the sky.

The sound of thunder seemed no different from the tense atmosphere inside the club room.

“I… see.”

Suhyeok tried his best to appear calm.

“Hahaha. Hey. You couldn’t have performed anyway since you were injured! This worked out well!”

Seo-eun tried desperately to lighten the heavy mood.

But the sting of a failed challenge is always painful.

Suhyeok couldn’t hide the bitterness rising from within.

His head drooped low.

“Haah…”

A warm sensation spread across the back of his hand.

“Lee Suhyeok.”

Hana was someone who knew better than anyone how hard he had worked on his creative projects.

She had spent countless hours working with him, and wasn’t he the one who stayed up all night on their last day off, insisting on getting used to his new guitar while everyone else rested?

“You did well.”

“No. I should have… I should have made it better.”

Instead of just a useless unrequited love story, I should have created something more challenging.

Damn it. If I had known it would turn out like this, I should have suggested another member’s story and produced that instead.

Despite promising himself not to think this way if they failed, he couldn’t help it.

It’s disappointing.

So disappointing.

I wanted to do well.

I really wanted to win that award.

While Hana was the one who had worked with him the longest, across from him sat Juyeon, the one who wanted to understand his songs the most.

Juyeon silently rose from her seat.

Without hesitation, she climbed onto Suhyeok’s lap and embraced him.

“Ju-Juyeon?”

Suhyeok looked up, startled.

He wasn’t the only one surprised.

Hana’s face stiffened.

Seo-eun was equally shocked.

For the usually reserved Juyeon to initiate such bold physical contact was completely unexpected.

Meanwhile, Choi Gang let out a sigh of exasperation.

This pathetically masculine guy.

From his perspective, it was hard to understand why someone would look so devastated over one small failure.

“We failed because I couldn’t sing well enough.”

Blaming others.

It was the easiest way to make failure less painful.

Not that I’m inadequate, but that another member is inadequate.

That circumstances didn’t align.

That was Juyeon’s way of alleviating Suhyeok’s guilt.

“So it’s not your fault at all, Suhyeok.”

“N-no. Your singing was really…”

More than perfect.

Awkwardly frozen in place, Suhyeok felt embarrassed just sitting there, so he gently stroked Juyeon’s back.

His eyes met Hana’s, who was watching him from the opposite side.

…She was the first to look away.

“Hey, how long are you two going to stay like that? Park Juyeon, come here! If you want to hug someone, come hug your unnie.”

Like a mother taking a child from its father, Seo-eun pulled Juyeon away and into her own arms.

“Phew… Should we go get some drinks?”

Seo-eun was craving soju.

But truthfully, she didn’t want to drink with the Spirit club members.

She missed her boyfriend, Jaejun.

Ah, oppa.

This is all going to shit.

Seo-eun was already starting to fear the disastrous times ahead.

“No. I’m going home.”

Hana stood up from the sofa as if nothing was wrong.

“I’m going to the gym!”

Two people out.

The drinking party was effectively canceled.

“Sigh… Well, I guess we’ll meet up again when we get another chance.”

Their travel plans were set for the third week of August.

Which meant there were no official gatherings scheduled until then.

“Guys, you all worked hard! And we had fun, right?”

Just because they failed doesn’t mean the memories disappear.

It’s not like they pooled everyone’s money to make a movie that flopped.

“That’s right. I have no regrets.”

Hana’s gaze drifted toward the ceiling.

The bright white fluorescent light hurt her eyes.

“Everyone did well. Next time again.”

Hana stopped mid-sentence.

A sudden thought had occurred to her.

Will there be a next time?

For us?

The winter performance was confirmed, but the future beyond that was extremely uncertain.

Spirit club activities were originally designed to last for two years.

There were some alumni who still visited the club room and performed together, but they were a tiny minority.

And there was no entire class that continued activities together.

Sometimes seniors and juniors who got along well would form teams and perform occasionally.

But that meant there was no longer any force binding an entire class together.

“I hope we can all enter a competition together again someday.”

Hana spoke of an unlikely future.

Suhyeok also stood up and nodded in agreement.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go now.”

“Okay.”

The club members left the room one by one.

Though she seemed to have no umbrella, Hana quickly departed as if she had urgent business.

“…Suhyeok.”

“Hmm?”

Juyeon showed him a long, large umbrella.

“Did you bring an umbrella?”

“No?”

“Let’s share mine.”

Juyeon grabbed Suhyeok’s wrist and pulled him along.

Seo-eun watched the two leave with uneasy eyes.

“Ah… damn it.”

Left alone, Seo-eun smacked her forehead.

The two founding members who had never shown any interest in dating.

They were juniors she cherished equally, making it impossible to choose between them.

Even if she wanted to blame someone, there was no one to blame.

After all, it was none other than Seo-eun herself who first discovered and recruited Suhyeok.

If she had to assign blame, Suhyeok hadn’t done anything wrong.

What’s wrong with someone liking someone else?

It wasn’t like Suhyeok was going around flirting with everyone with malicious intent.

Seo-eun knew that better than anyone.

But this situation…

“This is driving me crazy.”

The first existential crisis of the 23rd generation had strangely little to do with music.

* * *

Hana, who had said she would bring an umbrella, changed her mind and decided to walk home in the rain.

Her chest felt tight.

She thought getting soaked in the rain might clear her mind, but the falling raindrops only made her emotions more muddled.

She hated that they failed the preliminaries, and she hated that Juyeon clung to Suhyeok like a girlfriend.

She had occasionally thought that Juyeon might like Suhyeok, but after seeing that…

It was 100% certain.

University isn’t kindergarten.

When a man and woman who aren’t even drunk embrace each other so naturally, it’s hard to pass it off as just friendship.

Splash, splash.

She stepped through puddles on the road without trying to avoid them.

She could feel her wet bangs clumping together on her forehead.

The droplets falling from her hair made it look as if she were crying.

Throughout her walk, Hana deeply contemplated her relationship with Juyeon.

The word that encompasses the depth of friendship. Friendship.

How deep was her friendship with Juyeon?

It wasn’t something one would normally think about deeply in everyday life.

Measuring how close you are to someone like you’re calculating a score was quite pathetic.

But given the situation, she felt she needed to be clear about this.

Though it seemed unlikely, what if Juyeon said she liked Suhyeok and asked Hana to give him up? What should she say?

Honestly, if Juyeon wasn’t a Spirit member, she would have thought, “What’s wrong with this crazy girl?” and bulldozed right through.

She would have said there’s no way she’d give him up.

But Juyeon was her friend.

They had performed together three times already, and no matter what anyone said, she was the beloved mascot of the 23rd generation.

But that didn’t mean her feelings for Suhyeok were light either.

First love.

My first love.

I liked him first, and now Juyeon wants me to just let her have him?

Does that make any sense?

At least in Hana’s world, this was unacceptable. This too.

Come to think of it, Lee Suhyeok.

This guy was ridiculous too.

No, after spending so much time with me, he was secretly whispering with Juyeon behind my back?

Whether it was necessary or unavoidable, she didn’t like that either.

She could rationally understand that club members should get along and help each other, but her boiling emotions didn’t have the capacity to endure it.

Annoying. Annoying. Annoying.

As soon as she got home, Hana ran into the bathroom.

She threw off her still-dripping t-shirt and faced the mirror.

She gripped the sink tightly with both hands.

“Right. It’s not like I can decide anyway.”

Whether Suhyeok kisses Juyeon or finally comes to his senses, it’s entirely his choice.

Playing both sides alone won’t get her anywhere if the other person isn’t even thinking about it.

Hana’s resolve to confess grew even stronger.

“As soon as the trip ends, I’m going for it.”

Since becoming a couple before the trip might cause problems, Hana firmly set a date on her phone.

August 31st.

The day summer vacation ends.

Hana decided that was when she would get a straight answer from Suhyeok.