Chapter 5. Daughter
Ka-talk!
Late at night.
Min-jeong’s phone buzzed while she was drafting a blog post.
Who could it be at this hour?
She flipped her phone face-down so as not to disrupt her writing flow and resumed typing. She had to finish writing a critique that would be used to promote a new girl group debuting this month, and it was due the next day.
Time was tight.
Ka-talk! Ka-talk! Ka-talk!
The alerts came in rapid succession.
Huh? A group chat? Who would…?
She picked up her phone to put it on silent, but the names on the notification made her quickly open the Ka-talk app on her monitor.
After entering the password, she saw a list of very familiar names in the chat window.
Pencil Vice-President: Hey! Anyone else not asleep yet?
Ah-yeong’s Mom: Me!
Hee-jin Unni: Here.
Twins’ Mom: Unni, what’s this all of a sudden?
A wave of fondness surged as she recognized the participants.
This group?
Some of these names she hadn’t seen in decades; others she’d spoken to as recently as last week.
She checked to see that the chat had over twenty members. There were names she could barely place, but all of them, she knew at least somewhat.
Many had drifted apart as life diverged and people formed different circles. Some rarely kept in touch. They were connections formed in an era before smartphones.
Old memories flooded her mind.
I’m Finally Free Now: I’m here too.
That brief recollection was powerful enough that she temporarily forgot about the document behind the Ka-talk window.
She minimized the editing window.
Pencil Vice-President: Ooh! Sso Min-jeong! You’re still alive!
Ah-yeong’s Mom: Sso! How’s your newly single life?
Twins’ Mom: Wow, it’s been ages.
Hee-jin Unni: Next week, I’m giving your number to that oppa!
I’m Finally Free Now: Ugh, cut the matchmaker talk. Anyway, what’s with this gathering?
Min-jeong had a pretty good hunch about why they’d all assembled,
But was there really something so big going on that they needed this group?
Pencil Vice-President: Everyone share your current fandom coordinates, right now.
Twins’ Mom: I’m into V-Tus!
Ah-yeong’s Mom: For me, it’s gotta be that sweet voice from Tale.
Hee-jin Unni: You’ve all strayed from the path. Where’s your rock spirit? As for me—Nabi Gorge!
They’re all still going strong.
They’d originally bonded over music.
Time had passed, yet it seemed nothing had changed.
Pencil Vice-President: What about you, Sso?
Min-jeong looked at her desktop wallpaper behind the Ka-talk window and smiled without realizing it.
It was a photo of Child Apple, the top idol group in Korea—no, not just in Korea, but at the very pinnacle worldwide.
Who wouldn’t love them? She’d even written a thesis on the global phenomenon they caused.
Have I ‘strayed’…?
She felt a twinge at Hee-jin Unni’s remark about “rock spirit.” Child Apple was a majorly mainstream idol, after all.
Hee-jin Unni: Hey! She’s strayed, too. She’s the vice-president of the Baby Apple fandom these days.
Pencil Vice-President: Ohh, Child Apple? I’m a Baby Apple, too! Nice to meet you!
I’m Finally Free Now: Whoa, unni, you too?
Twins’ Mom: I’m also a Baby Apple.
Pencil Vice-President: Ugh, no being in two fandoms at once—get outta here!
It was their first time reuniting in ages, and they were still the same. If you just looked at the chat, you wouldn’t guess these were middle-aged women.
Min-jeong chuckled to herself.
I’m Finally Free Now: But unni, what’s with this late-night gathering?
Twins’ Mom: Right? What’s with this random chat all of a sudden?
Hee-jin Unni: Seeing everyone like this makes me think of Hongdae, hahaha.
Hongdae…
Her heart fluttered at the mention of that place that had been tickling her subconscious.
She felt a sudden thrill.
That time was full of unrestrained passion—when she could do anything without much thought.
Youth was their greatest asset, and the future shone with pure hope.
They were so free, with nothing to weigh them down.
Pencil Vice-President: HB is making a comeback.
Ah-yeong’s Mom: “HB comeback”? Huh? Vice-Pres, what are you talking about?
Messages popped up simultaneously, and suddenly the once-busy chat went silent.
Min-jeong’s jaw dropped.
Ah-yeong’s Mom: Gah! Gah! What? Unni?
Ah-yeong’s Mom: You’re not joking, right?
Ah-yeong’s Mom: I typed something weird while freaking out
The youngest, Hee-yeon, seemed to be having a meltdown.
Everyone else was presumably just as stunned.
Min-jeong’s mind went blank.
Her job was being a music critic. She listened to countless artists—vocalists with extraordinary range, top-tier bands, even idols who combined stunning visuals with killer dance moves.
Her job was literally to listen to music from around the world.
Yet the feeling she’d had back in Hongdae, as she took her first steps into that club in a burst of youthful rebellion—that might have been her personal sacred ground.
No matter how world-renowned a musician might be, none had ever truly stepped into that place in her heart.
The Ka-talk chat was still frozen.
Ah, right.
Realizing they were all too shocked to type, she reached for her phone and looked for the number of “Pencil Vice-President” unni.
She hurriedly tapped the call button, but…
[The person you are trying to reach is on another call. Please leave a message after the beep…]
She was too late.
Late at night, women in their forties were mashing their call buttons, each recalling that fluttering excitement of their twenties.
Ugh, would one of them please hang up so I can get through!
Bee-beep-beep, beeeep…
Quietly opening the front door, Jin-hyeok stepped in.
“Oh, you’re home early?”
His daughter.
Name: Jo Eun-seo, age 15.
She’d recently entered her teenage years and had become a bit sensitive.
She’d been keeping more secrets lately, worrying Jin-hyeok.
Just a few days ago, they’d argued about the length of her school skirt.
They’d made up in less than a day, but they never really resolved the skirt issue.
The memories flashed across his mind, and the emotions attached to them flooded in.
The OBGYN office, rushing into the delivery room, awkwardly cutting the umbilical cord.
The thrilling moment of holding that tiny, precious life in his hands for the first time.
Even the smell of her diaper had been adorable.
He vividly remembered the day she finally managed to roll over, and they all cheered.
The heartwarming first-birthday party video.
Her first word: “Daddy.”
Her preschool pageants.
How she once brought home a “boyfriend” and said she wanted to marry him.
Elementary school entrance ceremony.
Elementary graduation.
Starting middle school.
All these years of accumulated memories rushed in, making his heart feel like it might burst.
These were experiences the nineteen-year-old genius had never known.
Ah…
He realized tears were streaming down his face.
“Dad?”
His daughter came closer.
“Are you okay? Are you sick?”
She stepped into arm’s reach, and his heart exploded.
Jin-hyeok quickly pulled her into a hug.
Oh.
Infinite love.
So this is what it feels like.
“Ah! Dad, what are you doing?”
She squirmed in his arms, shouting in protest.
But soon her wriggling ceased, and the girl’s slender arms wrapped around Jin-hyeok’s waist.
“What happened? Doctors giving you a hard time again?”
Jin-hyeok shook his head.
“How much did you drink…?”
She lifted her gaze and noticed a streak of dried blood on his forehead.
“What the hell! Who did this to you?”
Breaking free from his arms, she took a closer look at his forehead.
“Come on, get inside!”
She dashed into the master bedroom, returning with a first-aid kit.
“Who did this to you, huh? Was it those doctors?”
“No…”
He hadn’t realized his voice could sound so choked, as though thick with emotion.
He quickly closed his mouth, feeling awkward about this unfamiliar tone.
“Luckily it’s not cut deep.”
She tended to him carefully, and he closed his eyes.
Though he’d lost his musical genius, he had gained this immeasurably precious treasure.
Since regaining his former self, it was the first time he felt deep respect for the forty-three-year-old Jin-hyeok.
He’d survived all these years, and now he understood the reason why.
“Okay, Dad, get some sleep.”
“Mm.”
Only after his daughter disappeared into her room did his heart start to calm down.
Finally, he looked around at the small apartment where he lived.
A 19-pyeong villa—one bedroom slightly bigger, where his daughter slept, and another room—his—similar in size but partially taken up by a utility space.
He headed into his bedroom and shut the door.
Then, sliding down to the floor, he leaned against it.
In some ways, the forty-three-year-old’s memories were cruelly unhelpful.
They unlocked selectively.
Once the situation arose, they flooded him with intense memories and emotions.
These were experiences the nineteen-year-old genius never could have known.
But one thing was certain: the music he could create now would be far more profound than anything that nineteen-year-old ever wrote.
His heart pounded again in a new, exhilarating way.
That enormous sense of anticipation.
Just as he smiled and tried to stand, he picked up a faint sound of music.
The Beatles?
Great music, no matter how much time passes, transcends generations and touches everyone equally.
He shut his eyes, savoring the familiar melody he hadn’t heard in so long.
—Hey Jude.
It was an instrumental track, with his daughter humming softly along in places.
She’s pretty good, he thought, smiling.
In the forty-three-year-old’s memories, there had been no music at all.
So I’m just now finding out my daughter plays music.
He did recall faint sounds in the past, but they’d registered as random noise or phone sound effects.
He never recognized it as actual music.
Though her room was right next to his, the volume was so low.
Must be under the covers?
He began to grasp her feelings.
Her dad had an affliction that made music intolerable, turning it into noise that caused him pain. She hadn’t wanted to upset him, so she kept her music barely audible, composing her own little tunes in secret.
Now that he finally understood his daughter’s music, the middle-aged Jin-hyeok’s emotions came pouring out.
Sadness, guilt, regret, pride.
And finally, the nineteen-year-old Jin-hyeok’s feelings were added on top, excited by the possibility of communicating with his daughter through music.
Overwhelmed, he felt tears welling in his eyes again. He opened them and lifted the corners of his mouth in a grin.
His list of reasons to look forward to tomorrow had just grown longer.
Hwang Ji-seon’s Canvas: A Music-Focused Talk Show
That day’s guest was the Im Do-yu Band, the first Korean rock band to enter the Billboard Top 100. With only one song left to play, senior musician Hwang Ji-seon offered Im Do-yu a drink on set.
“Wow, you’re still so full of passion. How old are you again this year…?”
“Let’s not go there, sunbae.”
“Haha, right.”
At Im Do-yu’s firm response, Hwang Ji-seon let out her characteristic hearty laugh.
“It’s the first time a Korean rock band’s made the Billboard singles chart, right?”
“Yes. Honestly, it feels like I got carried there on the shoulders of my juniors.”
“Oh, but it takes a certain skill to let yourself be carried, right?”
“Uh, so you’re basically saying I did get carried?”
“Hahahaha.”
“Well, you’re not wrong, so I’ll own it.”
Indeed, K-Pop had massive global presence.
Some idol groups debuted on Billboard as soon as they dropped an album, and it wasn’t uncommon to see Korean idol names topping the charts.
But for a rock band in rock-starved Korea, this was the first time making the Billboard chart.
Though it was only 97th place—far from the top—it was still a historic achievement.
They’d started out in the Hongdae indie scene, and now they were in their 28th year. Im Do-yu grinned widely.
Even cracking the Billboard chart at all probably felt like a lifelong dream fulfilled.
“I guess the next step is for more junior bands to follow you in. You’ll be carrying them on your shoulders, right?”
“Haha, I’m getting older… My knees aren’t so good these days.”
“Ah! That’s why you barely jumped earlier?”
“Oh, come on…”
They’d known each other for twenty years, and Im Do-yu playfully smacked Hwang Ji-seon on the shoulder, making the audience laugh.
“You’ve been making music for so long—don’t you have any regrets?”
“Hmm… I sometimes think about this.”
At his suddenly earnest expression, Hwang Ji-seon held the mic out to him.
“When I first started playing in Hongdae, I saw a band that was the absolute best. If they’d kept making music, the Billboard? World pop charts? I think they’d already have conquered them all.”
She nodded slowly and lifted the mic to her mouth again.
“I heard rumors back then myself.”
“If YouTube or smartphones had existed at the time, the whole world would have been giving Korea a thumbs-up.”
“Uh…”
Off-camera, the show’s producer frantically waved his arms, then formed an X.
It was a live special, not a pre-recorded show where they could just cut any awkward bits.
The audience had no real reaction to the topic, and the segment was dragging on.
“Well, that’s in the past, isn’t it? They’re probably all dads, middle-aged guys now. Meanwhile, the Im Do-yu Band, who’ve been faithfully carrying the torch for Korean rock all this time, is far more remarkable.”
She quickly steered the conversation away.
“No. If they were still around, I wouldn’t even be worth mentioning.”
“A-ah, haha. But the band that’s here now is the Im Do-yu Band, right? Hahaha.”
With a forced laugh, she slapped Im Do-yu’s arm to lighten the mood.
“Nope! They’ll be back someday. They’re a miracle. Remember this name: Heart Breakers.”
She glared at him from an angle hidden from the audience.
Are you nuts? We’re live.
He flashed a mischievous grin.
“Sure, I’ll remember. But for now, let’s enjoy the last song from the greatest band of the moment, the Im Do-yu Band! Here’s ‘keep-off’!”
Hastily regaining her composure, she snatched the mic from him. Im Do-yu clicked his tongue in mild frustration and headed to the stage. Soon, the band’s final performance shook the venue with all the energy they had left.
Though her ears rang from standing so close, Hwang Ji-seon’s thoughts drifted to the band he’d just mentioned.
She closed her eyes without realizing it, remembering that time so long ago.
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