His face a mask of utter calm, Jaemin turned back to the rest of the orchestra, eyes sweeping over the faces filled with trepidation. The air around him was still thick with the residue of his and Kang Do-hyun's exchange. He knew the tension was too high to continue.
"Rehearsal is over for today," he said, his voice even and clear. "The music is a reflection of its conductors. And today, our sound is a discordant mess. Let's start again tomorrow, with a clean slate."
Neatly gathering up his things, he turned and walked away without a single backward glance, disappearing into his office.
The musicians, still reeling from the exchange, stood frozen for a long moment. Then, with a collective exhale, they began to pack up their instruments. The room filled with a low murmur of bewildered conversation.
"Unbelievable," Yoon Hyeonwoo, the principal cellist, grunted, his scent of old leather and tobacco a heavy, cynical presence. "He just walked away. As if he didn't just start a war."
"He told Kang Do-hyun sunbae-nim he was playing with his ego," Kim Seojun, the oboist, whispered, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and terror. "He has no sense of self-preservation."
Han Chaewon, the second chair violinist, shot them a pointed look. "He also proved that what we were doing wasn't working. It was a disaster."
"Fuck that, I'm going for a drink," Hyeonwoo grumbled. "I need to get some alcohol in me before we all lose our minds."
The suggestion was met with immediate, unanimous agreement, even from the normally quieter members like Jung Eunji from the viola section. Do-hyun, still fuming, simply packed his violin and followed them without a word.
…
The restaurant they ended up in was loud and warm, the low buzz of conversation and the clatter of plates a welcome distraction from the heavy silence of the rehearsal hall. They ordered bottles of soju and platters of fried chicken, and soon, the conversation turned back to the man who had just dismantled their reality.
"I still can't believe he called us out like that," Kim Seojun said, shaking his head. "And he didn't even flinch when Kang Do-hyun sunbae-nim glared at him. A true beta, that one. Totally unfazed."
Do-hyun just scowled into his glass. He was still smarting from the public humiliation. The words were a physical ache in his chest:
Kang Do-hyun-ssi…
You're too busy playing with your ego.
You fill the room with your pride... it makes you blind to the music.
This time… I want you to listen.
He had never in his life been so thoroughly and quietly disrespected.
"I have to admit," Han Chaewon said, her voice thoughtful. "He might be arrogant, but his point… it resonated. We were just going through the motions, each section doing our own thing, not really caring about each other's parts and how we all sound together. We have been for a long time. The music died months ago."
Yoon Hyeonwoo, surprisingly, nodded in agreement. "He's strange. But the man knows what he's doing. His instructions are… impossible. But when you follow them, the music changes. It becomes something else."
Do-hyun felt a jolt of alarm. He had been so wrapped up in his own fury that he hadn't fully considered the others' perspective. They were actually considering giving this beta a chance.
"A symphony needs a conductor to lead, to command," he said, his voice low and firm. "He's just a beta, when what we need is a proper alpha. This isn't going to work."
Han Chaewon met his gaze, her own full of a quiet sincerity. "Perhaps a new perspective is exactly what we need, Sunbae-nim. Not all of us want to play the same dirge over and over. The music didn't sound right because we weren't playing together properly as an orchestra."
Even the usually quiet Jung Eunji piped up. "We have to give him a proper shot. What do we have to lose?"
Do-hyun looked around the table. The musicians were all looking at him, their expressions a mixture of weary hope and firm resolve. They had decided. The unspoken trust they had in him, in his leadership, was being tested. They weren't asking him for a grand, alpha command. They were asking him to simply agree, to walk with them in this new, terrifying direction.
Do-hyun sighed, the sound heavy with a reluctant defeat. He felt a deep, profound sense of wrongness, but he also saw the glimmer of hope in their eyes. He had to honor their faith.
"Alright," he said, his voice a low, grudging sound. "We will give him a proper shot. For the sake of the orchestra."
…
Across the city, Seo Jaemin sat in his quiet apartment, a cup of herbal tea cooling in his hand. His phone was held to his ear, his voice a low, tired murmur.
"He's furious, Jaehyun-hyung. He thinks I'm trying to... dominate him. It's ridiculous."
The voice on the other end of the line was calm and deep, punctuated by a dry chuckle. "Dominance, my foot. The only thing you dominated was his worldview, Jaemin. The poor alpha's brain is probably short-circuiting trying to understand a power that isn't rooted in sheer will."
Jaemin sighed, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. The fatigue from fighting against Do-hyun's presence was a physical weight. "I just... There's this… feeling, hyung. Every time he plays. There's something… It's so clear. I can feel exactly what he wants to do with the music. It's almost telepathic."
"He's a man who has built his entire life on what he can see, feel, and control," Jaehyun said, his voice turning serious. "He won't be able to control this. You're not trying to possess his music. You're inviting him to share it, but sharing authority is a fundamentally foreign concept to an alpha like him."
"I don't know what to do," Jaemin confessed, the quiet confidence from the rehearsal hall completely gone. "I can't keep this up. The constant silent rebellion, from everyone, from him, and the… that feeling. It's exhausting."
"Then don't fight him," Jaehyun said simply. "Acknowledge it. Let it confuse him. Let it rattle his cage. The only way he will come to terms with it is if he realizes his own power isn't the only one in the room. He needs to learn to open his heart and synchronise with the rest, not just batter others into submission with his scent."