The second day of the trip, Hyunseung and his family came to see Paris’s unmistakable symbol, the Eiffel Tower.
“Wow—!”
Hyuna stood with her mouth hanging open at the tower’s sheer size, then only a moment later—
“You look like a country mouse.”
She clamped her lips shut and, staring at Hyunseung, added,
“In any case I’m not.”
“Who said you were?”
“You just thought, ‘country mouse,’ didn’t you.”
“Mm, Hyuna.”
Putting on a solemn face, Hyunseung called his sister to order in a low voice.
“A long time ago they said, ‘A guilty conscience pricks the mind.’ ”
“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”
“Looking at you right now, that proverb springs right to mind.”
“I’m done talking to you!”
Their father watched the bickering pair with a smile as warm as the sun overhead.
Simply traveling with his son and daughter already put him in a good mood; seeing the siblings getting along made him feel as if he owned the world.
How happy…
While Father was sinking into happy thoughts—
“Ah!”
Something occurred to Hyuna and she took a Polaroid camera from her bag—the most usable among the gifts The Moon’s fandom All Night had sent, which her brother had given her.
—Dad, strike a pose, she signed.
Father stood stiff and straight.
“You have to smile!”
Hyuna lifted her own lips with a finger to demonstrate.
Before long they were lost in picture-taking beneath the tower.
Click! —a solo shot.
Click! —father and son.
Click! —father and daughter.
Finally…
Click! —the whole family lined up together.
“C’est Si Bon!”
The passerby who took the last shot even gave a thumbs-up; all four were grinning at the camera.
Pretty handy, Hyunseung thought, smiling at the developing prints. Then—
“Huh?”
Far off, a familiar male figure caught his eye; he narrowed his gaze.
Manager Kim…?
Had he tracked them even here? Really, how troublesome. Shaking his head, Hyunseung’s eyes moved to the woman beside Manager Kim.
That must be his mother.
The two sat facing each other, both smiling in the same way—it had to be mother and son.
The man who always fussed over Hyunseung like a dad now looked like an ordinary, devoted son; it felt strange yet pleasing.
So he can smile like that, too.
He often laughed heartily around Hyunseung, but this was a smile he had never shown before. Without realizing it, Hyunseung smiled as well.
Had he ever felt happiness seeing someone else’s happiness—someone who wasn’t family? No. From his previous life to now, he had never been swayed by others’ emotions.
“Hyuna.”
“Mm?”
“Let me have the Polaroid.”
“Gonna take my picture?” She flashed a V-sign, but Hyunseung ignored her and, through the viewfinder, framed Kim Siljang and his mother.
One,
two,
three—
He counted silently, pressed the button, and a print popped out.
Flap, flap—
He shook it lightly; the hazy surface slowly revealed two people smiling.
“Weren’t you going to shoot me? What’d you take?”
“Just—”
Staring at the clear image of the happy pair, Hyunseung murmured,
“A happy mother and son.”
“How can a hat be happy?”
He chuckled at her pun-like question and tousled her hair.
In any case, with one Polaroid he had captured memories for both his own family and for Manager Kim’s—quite a useful present indeed.
Hard Busking.
That was the keyword for the first day of street performance filming. As the name said, the busking promised to be tough. Even now, with almost all the instruments and sound gear set, hardly anybody was passing by.
Because the spot was a small park inside a residential area, not a tourist zone.
Broadcast folks, honestly…
On top of that they had to choose only from their own songs—K-pop in Korean. Getting strangers to stop was hard enough; they couldn’t even rely on a famous pop cover.
Should’ve sent these kids onto a jungle survival show instead.
Manager Kim watched Yoon Jaeyi with worried eyes. If no one listened or showed interest, how embarrassing would it be? He felt his own face heat just thinking about it.
Meanwhile Jaeyi’s gaze stayed fixed on Won Jinseop and Lee Yuju, who were warming up together.
Wow, they’re good…
If that was a casual rehearsal, what would they be like going full out? She whipped her head to her own score.
Sunbae chose these songs for my sake—I can’t ruin them.
Their first set would be her debut song “To the One Who Had Only Me,” the final-round number “I Wish Time Would Stop,” and Lee Young-ah’s signature “Only You.” All chosen by Young-ah; even Jayble had agreed at once.
When Jaeyi protested, she was told: “I’ve always wanted to sing an HS song myself. This is my wish, so you’re doing me a favor.”
Young-ah was warmer and more generous than her first impression.
“Jaeyi, you’ve improved so much since the contest.”
“Add any ad-lib you want.”
“You carry the main; I’ll layer on top.”
Encouraged, Jaeyi had practiced through jet-lagged nights. She was grateful to Jayble as well for rearranging and playing without a single complaint—though he rarely spoke, so it was hard to know what he thought.
Wasn’t he HS’s rival…?
While her thoughts wandered, the crew finished setting up.
“Jaeyi, they said we can sit here.”
She took an audience seat to watch the other team first. Red lights lit on the cameras; Kim Gwangjin began a sound-check.
“Wow…”
Even the staff cheered softly. Jaeyi clasped her hands, not missing a single flick of his fingers or sway of his small frame.
I want to play like that someday… How can a mere check silence people like this?
She waited eagerly for their full performance.
Their opening choice was “Love Is Flowing,” one of Won Jinseop’s hidden gems, perfect for male-female duet.
Jinseop’s smooth voice announced the show.
—If only I could return to that day I first saw you.
Locals passing by began to glance and slow down. One, two, three… soon more than ten. Some stayed, some left, but several seated themselves to listen.
In Korea, these singers were arena-level stars—it might feel small-scale, yet no one half-assed it.
Especially Lee Yuju sang hard, not even pushing away the hair in her face.
She’s good… Her vocals were more stable than back in the contest.
“Jaeyi.”
Young-ah whispered beside her.
“Let’s also just sing with all we’ve got.”
“Yes, I will.”
She nodded vigorously—
Fwee-eet!
A strong whistle came from somewhere; as their song ended scattered applause burst out.
Clap-clap-clap-clap—!
A decent start.
Music-review YouTuber Leo—a channel with one million subscribers—had lately found no song worth covering.
“Guess there’s no helping it today.”
Camera in hand, he left his flat; the viewers were nagging about no uploads, so even a simple vlog would do.
“Honestly, if there’s no music that hits my ear, what am I supposed to review….”
He grumbled, then faced the lens with a bright smile.
“Hi, I’m Leo. I’ve not been feeling well, so no reviews lately. Today I’ll just show a bit of my daily life.”
Walking and talking to the cam like a pro presenter, he reached a neighborhood park.
“This is where I stroll almost every day.” Total lie: in ten years living here, he’d never set foot inside.
Step, step—talking to himself like a madman, when—
—♬ ♬ ♬
A melody seized his ears.
“Sounds like someone’s busking.”
Perfect—he could use this. He hurried toward the sound.
In a small plaza, a busk-stage was set with cameras; the musicians were foreigners. Must be some overseas program.
“Oh, looks like a foreign music show filming.”
He whispered not to disturb and aimed the cam.
—If the memory remained I’d long for you freely,
A woman sang in a language he didn’t know, but the timbre caught him.
She’s good.
Her section ended; the woman beside her took the mic—
—Do you remember me?
Leo nearly dropped his camera.
“Whoa, damn…”
Not only he—others visibly reacted.
—Why did you leave me alone in this world?
The small crowd drifted closer; someone sketched the singer, another lowered his phone and closed his eyes. All drawn in.
Leo too forgot to add lively commentary; he simply edged nearer, filming.
—Don’t let go of my hand, take me with you.
A dreamy, cloud-walking voice, faint breaths, then a piercing high note like a cry. He didn’t understand the words, yet the feeling was clear.
—Will you hold me tight, even if only in dreams?
As the climax came, the two singers faced each other, sharing breath, emotion bursting.
Just a bit more, a bit more… He found himself wishing it wouldn’t end.
He didn’t notice the goosebumps on his arms until—
—I long to know your warmth.
The song finished.
Clap! Clap! Clap!
Leo sprang to his feet.
Clap, clap-clap, clap-clap-clap—!
He even slung aside his camera, pummeling his palms together; the audience followed, a roar of applause.
“La meilleur1!”
Today’s busking “review” had just become a broadcast accident.
- “The best!” ↩︎
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