Chapter 16: Talent? What Talent?

Yuna's POV

The next morning, everything felt… weirdly normal. No one whispered about the performance, no viral clips popped up, and the world kept turning like nothing had happened.

It was almost disappointing. After the tragic mess that was last night, I expected at least some gossip—maybe a dramatic retelling of Ethan's failed guitar solo or a meme-worthy clip of Leo's slow descent into madness.

But no. It was as if the entire audience had collectively agreed to erase the memory from existence for the sake of their own well-being. Probably for the best.

By lunchtime, I found myself standing in front of the band's clubroom, staring at the door like it personally offended me.

I wasn't even sure how I got here. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was the nagging guilt of watching them self-destruct while I sat back and enjoyed the show.

With a sigh, I pushed open the door.

The air inside was heavy. Like stepping into a funeral.

Leo was slumped over the drum set, head in his hands, muttering something under his breath.

"Maybe we should just disband…"

Ethan, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his guitar, scoffed. "We don't need to disband. We just need to practice more."

Milo, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, let out a quiet, judgmental sigh.

Noah, in the corner, was furiously scribbling in his notebook. "Guys, listen—I've been working on new lyrics."

He cleared his throat and read dramatically, "'We rise from the ashes, like a phoenix in the night—'"

Leo groaned louder. "No, no more of this. We're not a phoenix. We crashed and burned. That's it."

Lena, sitting with her legs stretched out, examined her nails. "Honestly, I think I sounded pretty good."

Milo actually looked at her. "You forgot half the lyrics."

She waved a hand. "And yet, I owned it."

I sighed, stepping fully into the room. "Wow. So this is what rock bottom looks like."

Leo lifted his head just enough to glare at me.

"Unless you're here to tell us we didn't suck, please leave."

I shrugged. "Oh, you definitely sucked. But I was impressed by your commitment to suffering."

Noah gasped. "Yuna, please. We're trying to heal."

Ethan pointed at me. "You laughed last night."

I raised an eyebrow. "So did the entire audience."

Leo groaned again and flopped backward onto the floor. "It's over. We're a joke."

I glanced at all of them—Leo's dramatic misery, Ethan's misplaced confidence, Noah's stubborn optimism, Milo's silent suffering, and Lena's… Lena-ness.

Maybe they were a mess, but they cared. And for some reason, I couldn't just ignore that anymore.

I stared at them, arms crossed, as they all sulked in their respective corners of the clubroom.

The energy in the room was painful. Leo was still lying dramatically on the floor like he had physically collapsed under the weight of failure.

Ethan was aimlessly strumming his guitar, playing random notes that somehow made the atmosphere worse.

Noah had retreated to his lyric notebook, looking like he was writing the next tragic novel about lost dreams. Milo just stood there, leaning against the wall, probably questioning every life choice that led him to this moment.

Lena, completely unbothered, was fixing her hair in her phone camera.

I exhaled slowly and, in the flattest tone possible, asked, "Do you guys even know what you're doing?"

Silence.

Then, rage.

Ethan immediately shot up. "Of course we do!"

Leo sat up so fast it was like he had been revived. "How dare you—"

Noah dramatically clutched his notebook to his chest. "We have a vision."

Milo just sighed.

I blinked. "Oh, really?" I tilted my head.

"Then tell me. What exactly is your vision?"

They all exchanged looks.

Leo opened his mouth, then closed it. Ethan scratched his head like he just realized he had never actually thought about this before. Noah furiously flipped through his notebook, as if an answer would magically appear between the bad song lyrics. Milo was silent, but that wasn't anything new.

Lena shrugged. "To be famous, obviously."

I deadpanned. "At what? Being bad?"

Leo groaned like I had physically wounded him. "Okay, we may have some issues—"

"Some?"

"—BUT we're trying! We just need more time to find our sound."

"You've had time. And your sound is 'public humiliation.'"

Ethan crossed his arms. "We have potential."

I gave him a long, slow look. "Ethan, you played your guitar solo like you were possessed by a ghost who forgot how to play the guitar."

Ethan opened his mouth, then pointed at me. "That's not the point."

Leo rubbed his temples. "Okay, Yuna, we get it. We're a mess. But we care about this band. We don't want to give up just because we sucked once."

I looked at them again. They were hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.

And yet… I sighed.

"Fine," I muttered.

Leo frowned. "Fine what?"

I crossed my arms tighter. "Fine, I'll help you guys."

Silence.

Then

"WAIT, WHAT?!"

I sat on the edge of one of the tables, staring at the disaster that was the school band.

The universe had plans. I was sure of it now. Because there was no way my life had just accidentally led me here—to this exact moment, sitting in this exact clubroom, surrounded by these exact people.

It all made sense.

I wasn't supposed to get lost that day. I wasn't supposed to walk into this clubroom by accident. But I did. And now, instead of escaping, I was here, willingly offering to help them.

This was fate.

A very, very annoying fate.

Leo was still blinking at me like his brain was refusing to process my words. Ethan looked suspicious. Noah had stopped writing whatever terrible song he was working on and was now staring at me like I had just announced I was running for president.

Lena, as usual, seemed only half-invested in the conversation. Milo… well, Milo was Milo. Probably judging everything internally.

Leo finally spoke. "Why?"

I groaned, rubbing my temples. "Because someone has to save you guys before you embarrass yourselves again."

Ethan scoffed. "We weren't that bad."

I stared at him. "Ethan, you forgot how to play your own guitar solo."

He coughed. "Technical difficulties."

Leo cut in. "Wait—so you're serious? You're actually going to help us?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. Congratulations, I guess. The universe decided I was meant to suffer alongside you."

Noah looked emotional. "It's like destiny brought you to us."

I gave him a look. "Don't make it weird."

Leo suddenly grabbed my hands dramatically. "Yuna. You have no idea what this means to us."

I pulled my hands away. "I literally do."

"You're saving us."

"I regret this already."

Ethan crossed his arms. "Wait, wait, wait. Before we all start crying or whatever—what exactly are you planning to do? You're not a musician."

I smirked. "That's what you think."

They all went silent.

Leo narrowed his eyes. "Wait… what does that mean?"

I just grinned.

The after som time of thinking on what to do first.

I sighed, rubbing my temples as I looked at the disaster of a band in front of me.

"Alright, now that we've all emotionally recovered from last night's absolute tragedy, let's talk about the real issue here."

Leo sat up like I was about to reveal the meaning of life. Ethan crossed his arms, still looking personally offended from earlier. Noah was holding his notebook like it was the last thing keeping him alive. Milo just stared blankly, which I was starting to think was his default state.

I folded my arms. "What are you guys actually good at?"

Silence.

Ethan, ever the confident one, grinned. "I am good at the guitar."

I shot him a look. "Are you, though?"

He frowned. "Yes?"

I turned to the others. "Is he?"

Milo blinked slowly. Noah hesitated. Leo coughed.

Ethan's grin faltered. "Guys???"

I sighed. "Ethan, you're confident. Not good."

He looked personally offended. "I have raw talent."

"You have raw noise."

Noah snorted. Ethan glared at him. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. 'My Lyrics Are Poetry.'"

I turned to Noah before they could start wrestling in the middle of the room. "Noah. What about you?"

Noah adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. "I have a deep appreciation for music."

I blinked at him. "That's not a skill."

He nodded, then added, "I also write lyrics."

I took his notebook and skimmed through it.

"The sky cries with me, lost in the void of time…"

I looked up. "Noah."

"Yeah?"

"You are not allowed near a keyboard ever again."

He gasped like I had just insulted his ancestors. "Excuse me?"

I ignored him and turned to Lena. "And you?"

She flipped her hair dramatically. "I was born to be on stage."

I stared at her. "No, you were born to be a fashion influencer."

Lena's jaw dropped. "I—Excuse me???"

"You have a nice voice, but you don't care about the music itself. You just like the idea of being a star."

Lena opened her mouth, then slowly closed it, looking like she was having an existential crisis.

Leo leaned forward, practically vibrating.

"What about me?"

I sighed. "Leo, you're the only one here who actually cares about music."

His face lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah. That's why you're on drums. You have rhythm, and you actually practice."

Leo looked like I had just told him he was my favorite child.

Then, I turned back to Ethan. "So, guitar's a no. Is there anything else you're good at?"

Ethan hesitated. Then, he muttered, "...Keyboard."

The entire room went silent.

Leo's head snapped toward him. "WHAT?"

Ethan scratched the back of his head. "Yeah. I've played since I was a kid."

Noah looked personally betrayed. "You mean to tell me that we've had a keyboard player this entire time, and you've just been torturing us with guitar?"

Ethan shrugged. "You never asked."

Leo grabbed his shoulders. "Ethan. My brother. Why did you let us suffer?"

Ethan grinned. "Builds character."

I sighed. "Alright, Ethan, you're switching to keyboard. Noah, stop touching instruments. You are exclusively writing lyrics now."

Noah gasped. "But—"

"No buts. You suck."

He clutched his notebook dramatically. "...But you think my writing is good?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes. I am entrusting you with the sacred duty of making sure our band does not sound like an angsty teenager's diary."

Noah teared up like I had just given him a knighthood. "I won't let you down."

I turned to Milo. "You actually don't suck at bass. Stay there."

Milo just nodded like he had expected that answer.

Leo clapped his hands together. "Okay, so now we actually have a band… but we don't have a singer, and a guitarist."

Silence.

"Yeah," I muttered. "That's a problem."

I turned on my heel and walked out.

"Uh… where are you going?" Leo called.

"I'm going to kidnap people."

They all stared at me in concern.

I marched down the hall and found Kai and Erika at their lockers, living their peaceful, band-free lives. Well Not for long.

Without hesitation, I grabbed Kai's sleeve and Erika's wrist and started dragging them away.

"Whoa—Yuna?!" Kai yelped, trying to pull away.

Erika, completely unfazed, just asked, "Where are we going?"

"You," I pointed at Kai, "are the new guitarist."

Kai blinked. "Wait, what?"

"And you," I turned to Erika, "are the new manager. Together with Lena."

Erika sighed. "So I have to babysit all of you now? Fantastic."

Kai frowned. "Hold on, I never agreed—"

I tightened my grip. "You don't have a choice."

Kai sighed in defeat. "Fine. But if this turns into one of those tragic band anime stories, I'm out."

I smirked. "Too late."

I dragged them back to the clubroom and pushed them inside.

"Everyone, meet your new guitarist and managers."

Leo nodded approvingly. "Nice."

Lena crossed her arms. "I don't need help managing, but whatever."

Erika sighed again, already regretting her life choices.

Kai still looked like he was processing what just happened.

Leo clapped his hands. "Alright, so we've got a full band and a manager. Now all we need is a singer."

The room fell silent.

"...Yeah," I said. "That's still a problem."

And just like that, our next mission became clear—find someone who could actually sing.

To be continued.