Episode 52: Going Public (1)
At an open-air theater somewhere in Seoul, under the cool autumn breeze, people gather in small groups.
Some sit alone, lost in thought.
Others chat with friends they haven’t seen in ages.
A few exchange sweet, affectionate glances.
The sparsely filled audience seats stir when a group suddenly appears on stage, setting up folding chairs and hauling massive amps to either side.
“Looks like a performance.”
“Should we clear out?”
The small crowd murmurs.
A bold man stands up.
“I’ll go ask.”
Striding down the short steps, he approaches a female staff member directing the setup and cautiously asks,
“Uh… is there a performance here today?”
“Yes, there is. We start at 4 p.m.”
“4 p.m… Do we need to leave?”
“No, no, you can stay. We’d love for you to watch.”
“They said we can stay! Should we watch?”
Not just his group overhears the exchange.
“Let’s watch this too.”
“Starts at 4… Perfect for dinner after. Who’s performing, though?”
As some leave and others move closer to the front, the man catches their chatter and asks again,
“Who’s performing?”
“Oh… we can’t say, but trust me, you won’t regret staying.”
The staff’s vague reply doesn’t deter him, especially when he spots another staff member carrying camera equipment.
“Hey, we gotta stay for this.”
“Why?”
“Look.”
He points to the cameras.
“At least YouTube content. Could be decent.”
“You’re right. Better than drinking, PC bangs, or pool halls.”
“Cool. Tell the others to come.”
The sight of multiple cameras being set up sparks anticipation among those already seated, while passersby and those about to leave start filling the seats.
“It’s getting loud… Should we move?”
At the edge of the audience, one of a quiet pair cautiously asks her companion.
The woman’s voice carries regret and apology, her gaze filled with a desolate sadness directed at someone deeply wounded.
“It’s fine, sunbae. Since I’m out after so long, I’ll watch this and head back. You must be busy, so go ahead.”
But the recipient of her gaze, Gong Jiu, offers a faint smile, urging her to leave.
His smile, tinged with a poignant melancholy, prompts her response.
“What’s a grunt like me busy with? Let’s watch this and grab a drink.”
Despite her pile of work, Jung Eunhye, who finally coaxed her reclusive junior out after a long summer, can’t leave him.
Sighing heavily, she sits back down.
Then—
“That bastard Kevin Lee… Stealing a song from someone like you.”
She mutters the resentment she tried to hold back.
Her voice, thick with anger boiling from deep within, reaches Gong Jiu, a composer whose cherished song was stolen without resistance.
Yet, he only offers that same wistful smile.
“Knowing my song resonated is enough. I’m really okay now, sunbae.”
“Okay? How is this okay… Fine, say that…”
Jung Eunhye, about to snap at his words, catches curious glances and grits her teeth, continuing.
The reason Gong Jiu shut himself in all summer?
His song, now ‘Rising Star’ under Kevin Lee’s name for Polaris, has been blasting everywhere, even into the fall.
“Jiu-ya, let’s go public. I may not be Y&I-level, but I’ll find a good lawyer to help. You still have your work references. With YouTubers’ influence and solid evidence, public opinion sways easily these days.”
But Gong Jiu shakes his head.
“Go public? Some YouTube noise might last a month, tops. Then they’ll bring Y&I-grade lawyers and drag it out for two, three years. I can’t handle that, sunbae. I’ll rest a bit, regroup, and start again.”
“Ha…”
“People are coming. Let’s talk later, sunbae.”
Jung Eunhye can’t argue.
Not because of the growing crowd, but because Gong Jiu’s words are painfully realistic.
Seeing her sigh and bow her head, Gong Jiu feels gratitude for her efforts and guilt for his own lack of strength, offering another wistful smile.
But soon, he forces a brighter expression, seizing the perfect moment to change the subject as figures appear on stage.
“Sunbae, who are they? It’s five minutes to start, and the seats are almost full.”
Jung Eunhye looks up.
“Oh… Han Yujin.”
She names the most striking figure.
“You might not know. Blind Singer Season 3. They’re the ones who buried ‘Rising Star’.”
“Ah…”
Despite avoiding music for months, Gong Jiu knows the name.
Han Yujin, a nobody who skyrocketed to stardom, is a name that echoes even outside entertainment circles.
“Yujin dodged the press, causing a stir. Finally showing up. Kang Taeoh’s here too. The whole TOP 7. Perfect. They’re amazing singers—should lift your mood.”
At her final words, Gong Jiu nods lightly.
Twenty minutes after the performance begins with Park Juan’s solo, followed by the others, Gong Jiu is visibly enjoying himself.
Seeing this, Jung Eunhye gives a bittersweet smile.
‘He’s always been like this.’
Gong Jiu was the type to light up with just music.
That spark had been absent for months, but now—
The harmonizing guitars of Kim In and Kang Taeoh, Um Dongkyu’s bass, Noh Jiyoon’s relentless djembe beats in place of dance, and Han Yujin’s steady keyboard melody from a step behind.
The sound isn’t perfectly polished, a touch awkward, but its charm pulls a rare smile from Gong Jiu.
‘Lucky break…’
This stage, replacing Blind Singer’s usual music talk show ‘Unmask Time’, is a guerilla performance with tightly guarded details.
Photos of the event have already flooded SNS, and latecomers drawn by word-of-mouth are blocked by security, left to hear the music from afar.
‘Come to think of it, Han Yujin’s ‘Shining Light’ live was amazing.’
Jung Eunhye only saw it on YouTube, but the comments—“It gave me strength”—were endless.
The near-religious testimonials about his performance weren’t few either.
‘If Jiu could hear that…’
It’s hard to believe a single song could heal a heart, like something out of a movie or drama, but—
‘Jiu’s so sensitive…’
Her faint hope is dashed.
“What did you think, everyone? Taeoh’s Shining Light? Different vibe from Yujin’s, right?”
““Yeah!!””
Jung Eunhye scoffs inwardly at Noh Jiyoon’s hosting.
“Different vibe,” my foot.
Kang Taeoh’s a great singer, but he pales next to Han Yujin’s impact.
The busking setup limits recreating that finals stage, and today’s ‘Shining Light’ is purely acoustic, but—
‘It’d be different if Yujin sang it.’
Unable to shake the thought, she glances at Gong Jiu.
“How old is he, sunbae?”
“High school sophomore, I think.”
“He’s really good.”
It’s a small relief that, despite his subdued expression, traces of their old music-fueled debates are resurfacing.
But their conversation halts.
“Now that we’ve heard Taeoh, time for the last solo!”
““Han! Yu! Jin! Han! Yu! Jin!””
The crowd’s chants for one name drown out their quiet talk.
Noh Jiyoon’s cue sparks a roar not just from the audience but from the crowd outside the plaza.
“Wow… maybe I should’ve skipped gigs too? That reaction’s kinda enviable.”
“Wouldn’t it be tough for you, Jiyoon?”
“Oof, Juan-oppa hitting with facts?”
““Hahaha!””
Noh Jiyoon and Park Juan’s banter draws light laughter.
“Alright, Yu~jin. What song did you prep~are?”
Noh Jiyoon’s bouncy, staccato voice prompts, and—
“Well, actually…”
Han Yujin’s voice, previously only backing others, finally flows fully through the mic.
“I wanted to do ‘Shining Light’ again…”
““Kyaaa!””
High-pitched screams erupt before he finishes, but he continues with a smile.
“Since today’s about switching songs, I gave ‘Shining Light’ to Taeoh. Instead, I’ll sing a song Taeoh performed.”
As he finishes—
“‘Flower Blooming Under Moonlight’!”
“Do ‘Evening Glow’!”
“‘Sound of Stepping on Fallen Leaves’ too!”
The crowd shouts titles of Taeoh’s songs.
But a single song flashes through Jung Eunhye’s mind.
‘That one…’
Its vibe so close to ‘Shining Light’, she belts out its name.
“‘Fly High’!!!!”
“Sunbae?”
Gong Jiu startles at her volume cutting through the crowd toward the stage.
“That’s it.”
Han Yujin catches her call as if he’d been waiting.
But why?
“In truth, ‘Fly High’ is the original for inspiring people, more than ‘Shining Light’. Today, I’ll sing the song Taeoh performed in the prelims’ final round. I hope it brings a different kind of strength.”
Though Jung Eunhye called it out—
‘Why does it feel like he’s looking at me?’
Han Yujin’s gaze isn’t on her—it’s fixed on Gong Jiu.