Special Training

Face-to-face with her, Song Ya didn't want to hide how much he admired her. He just tried to keep his gaze from looking too lecherous.

Mira met his eyes and froze for a moment. Then she leaned back, putting some distance between them, cleared her throat, and began playing the intro. She simply skipped the notes hidden behind Song Ya. "Look inside..."

After singing the first verse, she folded her arms and let her gaze drift up to the ceiling, still acting as haughtily as ever.

"If I don't sing, I don't sing, then! If I don't sing, I don't sing, then!" Song Ya deliberately imitated the way she'd spoken when she'd stormed out of her audition that day. "Hahaha..." He even gave her shoulder a cheeky shove and burst out laughing.

"You... Hmph!"

Her pretty profile flushed red at once. Embarrassed, she turned her head away and threw another little tantrum.

The ends of her long hair brushed Song Ya's face.

Smells so good!

"Mr. Song."

Mrs. Jovovich came in through the doorway and looked at the two of them helplessly. "Stop teasing her. She still has a child's temper..."

"He started it!" Mira raised her voice, on the verge of letting out that signature shriek again.

"Mira..." Mrs. Jovovich gave her a stern look.

"I've told you, just call me APLUS, Mrs. Jovovich. All right, no more joking." Song Ya stood up and gave Mira the piano. "Second verse. Keep going."

Mira clearly had a solid foundation. Her piano playing was competent, and her singing had improved since the audition. It seemed she'd been practicing hard lately.

"Third verse."

As he listened, Song Ya paced slowly around the room. It was small and dated, with no podium—just a little blackboard and six desks. The piano-teaching business here didn't seem to be doing well. A large travel bag sat on the desk in the back, its mouth open; it seemed to contain women's clothes. Beside it were a box of Lipton tea bags, two glass cups, and a small cassette player.

"Keep going, don't stop. Fourth verse."

When the song ended, Song Ya rubbed his jaw and pondered. "Emmmm..."

He felt the mother and daughter's eyes settle on him. "It's not good. It's still a long way off." He spoke honestly. This song mattered a lot to him. Picking up girls was secondary; everything had to be done with the song's quality in mind.

A flicker crossed Mira's eyes, and she lowered them.

"Song... APLUS, you have to help us." Mrs. Jovovich's manner was almost pleading.

"Of course. I came because I sincerely want to help you. I like Mira..." Song Ya watched Mrs. Jovovich out of the corner of his eye and saw her expression darken. "And Daniel asked me to do this, too." He quickly smoothed things over.

"All right, Eric..."

He turned to Eric, who had just come in. "Put on the cassette I brought."

Mrs. Jovovich brought the cassette player over and set it on the piano. After Eric fiddled with it, a recording of the singer Song Ya had liked best in the first round began to play.

"Can you hear the difference? By my standards, Mira wouldn't have made it past the first round." He gestured toward the player. Pressure, pressure, all the pressure.

Mrs. Jovovich slumped into a chair. Mira lowered her head and quietly fiddled with the lace on her skirt.

"Hey... Don't lose heart! I'm here now, aren't I? This is only the beginning!"

It looked like he'd pushed them a little too hard, so Song Ya hurried to encourage them. "First, let's work on your tone, Mira." He began an intensive training session in earnest.

"No, no. You have to squeeze your voice and change where the sound comes from..."

"No, that's not it. Be more precise."

"No..."

"Still not right..."

The clock on the wall slowly crept toward twelve.

Song Ya sensed Mira getting impatient. "Let's take a break. Eric, could you go get some coffee?"

"I'll go." Mrs. Jovovich headed out. "There probably aren't any shops open nearby. The building manager is the only one who has any."

"I'll help you, Mrs. Jovovich." Taking his cue from Song Ya's eyes, Eric hurried after her.

Once they'd sent them away, Song Ya leaned close to Mira's ear. "..." He blew gently.

Mira startled and turned to stare at him warily. "If you keep harassing me, I'll call the police. I got into modeling when I was eleven. Don't think I haven't seen your type before!"

Song Ya saw the tips of her ears gradually turning red and smiled. "What do you think I'm doing? Pronunciation, pronunciation! Do you remember what you called me that day?"

"FXXXYOU!" Mira shouted at him, probably to vent her anger.

"No, that's not how you said it. Think carefully."

"FXXXYOU! I say that all the time. I can't remember."

"Still not right. Squeeze your voice, remember? Squeeze it, like I taught you earlier..."

"Fuck You!"

"That's it! You've got it!" Song Ya finally got her to say the line from when inspiration had struck. What a relief.

Mira got into it.

"Don't put so much force into it. Add a little lilt at the end~"

"Soften the pronunciation."

"Almost there. It needs to sound a little aloof and teasing."

"..."

"Keep going~"

"Fuck..."

"Mira!" Mrs. Jovovich had returned. She looked at the two of them uncertainly.

"Mrs. Jovovich, it's fine. We're practicing the lyrics. This word carries a lot of weight in the song." Song Ya explained.

Mira burst out laughing.

"Ah, you know? If it weren't for this opportunity, I'd never normally let Mira go near a song like this..."

Mrs. Jovovich took the tray from Eric. As she dropped sugar cubes into the four cups, she grumbled.

"Is that so? I heard Mira's joining a production in the second half of the year, filming one of those rather revealing movies." Song Ya needled her.

The sugar cube in Mrs. Jovovich's hand fell outside the cup. "No... You've misunderstood. Return to the Blue Lagoon is a remake of a classic. The main scenes just happen to be on the beach."

"She was also in Return to Two Moon Junction, starring Sherilyn Fenn. A lot of people call that an erotic film..."

"I... I didn't pay attention when I signed the contract. Besides, Mira had nothing to do with those scenes. And it's an art film; it's normal for art films to have scenes like that. European art films..."

"All right, Mrs. Jovovich, let's not discuss this anymore, okay? Sorry, I got a little angry when you criticized my song just now. I wrote this song for de Klerk in South Africa to protest the ongoing apartheid there." Having applied just the right amount of pressure, Song Ya watched Mrs. Jovovich struggle to explain herself, delivered his righteous speech, then graciously withdrew from the battlefield. "Mira, let's have something to drink and then keep going."

Mira pulled a face at him.

"No!"

"That doesn't feel right. Again!"

"Forget what the lyrics mean. Try singing it as an ordinary love song for a young girl."

"Better, but still not enough."

"Again!"

The tedious practice continued, and the clock reached three in the morning.

"I want to rest." Mira shifted her legs. Her voice was a little hoarse.

"All right."

Mira got up and headed out. Song Ya glanced at Mrs. Jovovich, who was dozing with her head on the desk, then followed quietly.

Outside the restroom, Song Ya waited in the dark. He heard the toilet flush, then Mira's tall figure appeared in the doorway.

"Smack." He planted a hand against the wall, blocking her way.

"I'll call the police." Mira turned her head and shoved hard at his arm.

"Are you scared?" After spending so much time with her, Song Ya had figured out the rebellious girl's personality.

As expected, Mira raised her head and met his gaze, defiance in her eyes.

Whenever she furrowed her brows, she had a uniquely captivating androgynous beauty. Song Ya watched her bright eyes in the darkness and slowly leaned closer.