The Second Chance of A Suicidal Idol

Fire (3)

Joon-woo adjusted the height of the microphone in front of him. He held a rented guitar in hand as he rested on a tall stool. The guitar case was open, for donation collecting, Joon-woo figured. The city streets sat in front of him.

Colorful signs hung above the heads of suited up and jacketed Koreans. Comfy in their masks and daily routine of working 9-5's. Store clerks tugged the sleeves of tourists, chanting in poor English to shop or eat at their store.

As Joon-woo set up, curious glances were sent his way, mainly tourists, but glances were still glance. Joon-woo replied with swooning smiles, that caused blush to spread on the faces of some.

He tapped at the mic, "Ah– Hello?" His voice came out of the mic, blasting into the ears of bystanders and Joon-woo took a moment to get used to hearing his voice in the mic again.

A pale-skinned couple turned his way, they spoke in slang-filled English to each other and pulled over to sit nearby Joon-woo.

"I will sing..." Joon-woo shyly said, clearing his throat.

"The things I'm about to, tell you aren't so you
Change what's already on your mind
It's just that I keep thinking about all the melodies
You made asleep at night..."

The melody of "You Were Pretty" by Day7 escaped his lips, the chords familiar along his finger tips.

Ha-rin had always loved to play guitar. Even before she wanted to be an idol, she played guitar, she played it until blisters bled along her finger tips. She played guitar after rough practice days. She played guitar on the day of her parents' funeral.

The foreigner couple's eyes lit up at his voice, as if enchanted. And, if completely honest, the Ha-rin in him was too. Joon-woo's voice was like butter, with a low angelic tone that could make its way up the notes with ease. With a voice that could be molded into anything he wanted. Pop? Rock? Ballad? Joon-woo could do it.

Satisfied, he continued:

"Every time I got out of bed
Start my day that's when I would hear you
And with a tired yawn, you'd tell me that you loved me, I'll be fine
And that's what got me through the day alright..."

He sang, more eyes falling upon him. But instead of the familiar 'just passing by' eyes, the eyes were curious, admiration, almost.

"Beautiful
Just the way that you would look at me
Was so much I'd never wanna leave
I, I keep tryna forget how you were
Beautiful
Just the way that you were calling my name
But without you it won't be the same
I, I keep tryna forget but you were beautiful..."

The foreign couple took out their phones, along with a small crowd that was beginning to gather. Joon-woo had them hooked, and it brought some confidence he had lost while practicing for 'Fire'.

Someone dropped two 5,000 won bills into his guitar case, and some coins followed. Joon-woo's eyes shined at the bills, but he tried not to let it show. He muttered a quiet 'thank you' to the donator.

The donator seemed to be a young, conventionally attractive man dressed in a suit. He sent Joon-woo a nod and a smile before walking off into an ambiguous crowd of Koreans.

As Joon-woo made his way to the end of the song, he looked up. The whole time he tried to avoid looking up, as faces in quantity scared him, or the idea of such. But when he did, a crowd of applause welcomed him.

It was then, the foreign couple stood and dropped a few 50,000 won bills into his case, shooting him a wink when Joon-woo processed the amount. He looked at the couple with shocked eyes.

"[Ah– This is a lot of–]" Joon-woo began in broken, too formal English. Had the couple not realized how much they were giving him?

Ha-rin had learned some over her 11 years of being an idol. She had almost become fluent at one point, as her group had remained in a North American tour for six months.