Chapter 98 : Travelling Without Moving
Chapter 98: Travelling Without Moving
Gail Ann Dorsey, Tal Wilkenfeld, Kim Clarke……
A few legendary female bassists appeared before my eyes for a fleeting moment and disappeared.
What I’d only ever seen in videos was now unfolding right before me.
“Oh, Jin Eunha’s got the stance down, huh?”
“If there’s a bass in front of her, she can’t help herself.”
“Taeyoon, Dongyoon. You’re about to drool.”
“Is this the first time you’ve seen your mom holding a bass?”
Silent charisma.
That phrase fit perfectly.
Mom was slowly tuning the bass, her movements deft and experienced.
The way she crossed her right leg and held the instrument—why did it remind me so much of Tal Wilkenfeld?
No grand description was needed.
“Cool.”
If I were to sum up this moment in one line:
‘The strawberry farm supervisor turns out to be a legendary bassist?’ would be just about right.
You didn’t need to hear her play to know.
The way she sat with the bass, her confident expression, her fingers delicately tracing the instrument—
Everything spoke for itself.
This person was a true bassist.
I muttered toward her, almost in awe.
“Mom… you know how to play bass?”
She glanced at me, smiled faintly, and nodded.
“I’ve always thought I might pick it up again someday. I just didn’t think that day would be today.”
At that moment, I was certain of it.
The woman standing on stage wasn’t Taeyoon and Dongyoon’s mother.
She was bassist Jin Eunha.
Was there any cooler way to put it?
“Oh, that’s a Yamaha BB Limited, huh? You like that punchy low-mid tone. This is rare—mind if I touch it a bit?”
There was clear excitement in that short question.
At Mom’s words, Teacher Bang Gicheol laughed and replied,
“Of course. It’s Jin Eunha, after all. Honestly, it suits you better than me.”
I swallowed hard.
I could tell.
Something fun was about to happen.
This kind of chance didn’t come often.
Mom, my brother, and the Cheongseong members……
When would we ever again all hold instruments in one place like this?
“Excuse me for a second.”
I took out my smartphone, turned on the recording mode, and placed it at a good angle.
I didn’t know how it would record, or what it would capture.
But one thing was certain—
This might be the last moment like this.
“Huh? What’s with the sudden recording?”
“I don’t know? You ever just get the urge to record something?”
“You’re so random. Is everyone in the frame?”
“Not sure. Let’s just try it?”
The lens roughly caught us all in view.
As recording began, the witty members called out my stage name instead of my real one.
“Hey, Seo Rabbit. You okay with your face being on camera?”
I shrugged.
Didn’t matter. Just for today, I wasn’t Seo Rabbit or Blackhole—
I was Seo Taeyoon, Jin Eunha’s son.
Teacher Moon Jungbae clapped his hands sharply to get everyone’s attention.
That was charisma fitting of a leader.
“All right, shall we jam something impromptu? Travelling Without Moving, everyone remembers it, right? Taeyoon, you know this one?”
Know it? Of course.
It was a great track to jam to, full of groove.
We’d played it often at Sierra too.
A funky guitar, loose contrasting drums, dreamy keyboards,
and that groovy bass line.
A masterpiece blending all of it with a sensuous vocal melody.
But… there was a slight problem.
I glanced at Mom.
She pointed at herself as if to say, “Me? What about me?”
“The bass clipping might be a bit…”
I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.
This song wasn’t easy.
Being funky meant the bass line had to go wild—it was the soul of the track.
A hardcore performance.
You had to drive the song forward tight and fierce……
Some people even called it “a sound born of madness.”
They weren’t wrong. Honestly, I was worried.
Like a sports car speeding forward, every instrument needed to soar freely—
But what if, just maybe—
Mom or Hyung slipped up?
Hmm……
Sure, this was just for fun, but wouldn’t it be a bit awkward?
Maybe I should steer them toward something easier?
While I was lost in that thought—
“Taeyoon.”
Teacher Bang Gicheol, who had just given up the bass, grinned at me mischievously.
“She’s Jin Eunha, you know.”
At her name, Mom lifted her head.
Her face was calm, strong, unreadable.
Then she raised her fingers in a V beside her cheek—
“Wow……”
A shiver ran down my spine.
That… was pure confidence.
I suddenly felt embarrassed.
Prejudice was such a stubborn thing—
I realized I was still seeing her as “my mom,” not “bassist Jin Eunha.”
I shook my head, brushed it away, and placed my hand on the turntable.
Blink. Blink.
The wide space.
And far away, the smartphone—our only audience.
Kim Minsoo visited the marketing team.
He was there to check an important video Taeyoon had sent him early that morning.
The CEO had come rushing down first thing.
Normally, staff wouldn’t be too thrilled about that—
But the mood at KIM Entertainment was completely reversed.
“CEO, what took you so long!”
“There’s actually an employee scolding their boss for being late? Yikes, scary.”
“I’ve been waiting here an hour already.”
“Sorry, sorry.”
Manager Yoon Seonghan, who was listening, added teasingly,
“Sir, can’t you work out at night on a day like this?”
“……Isn’t our start time 9 a.m.? You’re all here since 8—come on.”
He grumbled lightly, but seeing the staff gathered so early, he felt both grateful and a little sorry.
He handed out the coffee he’d brought.
More people had shown up than expected.
A new Cheongseong video—
Who could resist?
“……We’re one cup short.”
“Would you like mine?”
“Alright. Everyone’s busy, so let’s check the video first.”
“Okay!”
Yoon Seonghan snapped his fingers.
“This one’s different from the others. I heard the members changed?”
“Huh? Isn’t it a Cheongseong video?”
“Not exactly guest members… apparently, it’s an impromptu performance video. Didn’t you get the message?”
“Taeyoon… didn’t send it to me, huh. I see how it is.”
Kim Minsoo looked dejected.
Yoon Seonghan clicked his tongue and replied,
“He sent it to the working team—that’s how it should be. Anyway, that’s not the point.”
He began reading Taeyoon’s message aloud.
“I sent a video to the marketing team’s email. It’s a performance featuring the Cheongseong members and two new faces. We’ve got permission for face reveals, so you can upload it as is, without editing. Sorry the video’s a bit dark—construction at the backstage area isn’t quite done yet.”
“New faces? Who are they?”
“No clue. Come on, let’s just play it.”
If he mentioned uploading, then it meant this was a video meant for YouTube.
KIM Entertainment’s official YouTube channel.
Unfortunately, it didn’t have many subscribers.
The only active idol under KIM Entertainment was the girl group Lumière.
So the channel only occasionally posted music videos and behind-the-scenes clips.
Recently, though, after adding the Cheongseong category, the channel had been slowly gaining traction.
Soon, the video started playing.
“Whoa…”
Taeyoon hurriedly ran to his spot after setting up his phone.
Watching Taeyoon’s back in the video, Kim Minsoo thought,
Finally…!
He wasn’t wearing a mask.
There wasn’t even a note requesting edits.
If that was the case—
Could it be? They could finally reveal Seo Rabbit’s face?
“Huh?”
But, contrary to expectations,
the camera’s angle cleverly cut off everything above Taeyoon’s chest.
Not even a single glimpse of his face appeared on screen.
“Bit disappointing, huh.”
“Right?”
“But… wow, these are people I’ve never seen before.”
“Yeah?”
Kim Minsoo leaned closer to the laptop screen, trying to make out who they were.
They jammed with Cheongseong?
Then they couldn’t be ordinary people.
And… the bassist was a woman?
“The guitarist’s a young guy. Whoa, handsome and solid. Who’s that?”
“No idea. But I’m more curious about the bassist. The song’s Travelling Without Moving, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow, that bass line’s no joke.”
Kim Minsoo watched the screen with interest.
Moon Jungbae, Kang Musong, and No Byeongcheon—
the Cheongseong members were the same as always.
The others were the mystery.
A nervous young guitarist and a calm, middle-aged female bassist.
A strangely mismatched pair.
“This should be fun to watch.”
“Hopefully not awkward.”
The lighting was incomplete, the faces barely visible.
But the way she held the bass, the angle of her wrist, the way she breathed before playing—
that wasn’t instinct. That was memory.
The kind of posture only someone who remembered through their body could have.
“She looks familiar. Who is she?”
“No idea.”
Then the music began.
The moment the bass hit the intro—
Kim Minsoo uncrossed his arms.
“……Unbelievable.”
A sound vibrating tightly through the air.
An unstoppable solo.
Like a sports car racing down a perfectly paved road.
The bass line ran wild while the electric guitar slipped in, teasingly.
Meanwhile, the drums held steady, solid on the beat without any tricks.
Funk and jazz met in perfect precision.
“This is supposed to be an impromptu jam?”
“Sure, the Cheongseong guys could handle it—but who are those two?”
Before the words even finished—
the bass solo began.
Nothing more to add, nothing to take away.
It was pure, overwhelming mastery.
As the drummer lightly touched the hi-hat to keep time—
“Oh, here’s where the scratch comes in.”
Taeyoon placed his hand on the turntable and started scratching.
Just four bars.
His DJing flipped the mood of what could have been a loose loop.
“Ah, that’s a shame. I wanted more of the DJing.”
“Nah, if there’s more, it’ll feel too heavy.”
“Huh?”
Travelling Without Moving.
Traveling without moving.
That paradoxical title held the song’s true message.
A journey without motion.
Some imagined the highways of Germany.
Others pictured desert roads in America they’d never been to.
And some thought of the Freedom Road at three in the morning.
They nailed the interpretation.
A musical journey that crossed unseen spaces.
For a brief moment,
Taeyoon and the members conveyed a powerful message.
“My body’s in the office… but it feels like I just went on a trip.”
“That’s the beauty of this performance.”
“Wow. It’s the first time the instruments have outshone Moon Jungbae’s vocals.”
Freedom, imagination, escape.
Exactly what The Kids Who Escaped From Us stood for.
Kim Minsoo turned to his team and gave quick orders.
“Seonghan.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let’s upload it as is—no edits.”
“As is? Shouldn’t we polish it up a bit?”
“It’s an impromptu jam—the raw feel’s the charm. Just clean the audio. And send me the file too.”
“Ah, yes, well…”
An hour later—
KIM Entertainment’s YouTube channel uploaded the rough jam session video.
[ Impromptu Performance – Cheongseong ‘Travelling Without Moving’ ]
↳ ????????????
↳ This is an impromptu jam???
↳ What the heck, why’s Seo Rabbit the only one whose face isn’t shown ㄷㄷ
↳↳ Exactly ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ Was that on purpose?
↳ Who’s that guitarist? Why’s he so stiff lolol
↳↳ For real ㅋㅋ So cute.
↳ That bass line’s insane. Who is she?
↳↳ That bass is nuts. How’s that even live?
↳↳ She looks kinda familiar.
↳ Dressed like someone’s mom, but then she starts playing and I lost it;;;
↳ The funk boom is coming!!!
↳↳ I wanna hear it live……
↳ Reveal the bassist’s identity!!!
↳ Forget that—did you hear the DJ? That timing was unreal. Since when was scratching that sexy?
↳↳ Please more scratching ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ
↳↳↳ Nah, the balance is perfect now. More would ruin the flow.
The YouTube comments section united as one—
in an unprecedented quest to uncover the mysterious bassist.