IOB Ch 1

“I knew it. What kind of music could a punk like you possibly make.”

That was the first thing I heard when I said I was quitting the piano.

“Father. To be precise, I’m not the punk, but the punk’s punk.”

Talking back, knowing I would get beaten for it, has been a habit of mine since childhood.

“You son of a bitch.”

An ashtray came flying immediately, and blood started trickling down from the very center of my forehead. Drip. I stuck my tongue out slightly and licked the falling drop of blood. President Choi, perhaps even more infuriated by the sight, shot up and began to stomp on me relentlessly with his feet.

I was the late-born son President Choi had with his beloved mistress in his forties. Being the youngest didn’t mean I was treated with any more care or affection. Our family had four sons, two born to the legal wife, and the other two each from different mothers. It was a household far from harmonious.

Even after establishing a respectable company in the open, complete with a proper sign that read ‘Jaeyu Construction,’ my biological father, Mr. President Choi, couldn’t shake his gangster habits for a long time. Even though he tried so hard to appear like a respectable businessman on the outside.

President Choi’s bad habits, which leaked at home, also leaked outside. The man who spouted a stream of profanity starting with ssiot consonants the moment he stepped through the front door was unlikely to suddenly become a gentleman just because he went to a business gathering.

“Do you know how much money went into teaching you the piano, you son of a bitch. You take after your mother, huh? With your pretty face, I thought, this little bastard has a talent for being an entertainer, and I was so delighted. You don’t know what a blessing it is to be born into a rich family. At your age, I was on the streets, that damn it, pickpocketing to get by……”

President Choi’s favorite lecture began. I curled my body up as much as possible, enduring his kicks, and let my mind wander.

Around the age of eight, when I started the piano, President Choi seemed quite excited. Wouldn’t his own reputation naturally rise if a dapper classical musician emerged from the family? The guys who made some money and thought themselves something always made at least one of their kids go into the arts. So you should do it too. And since you’re the youngest, it makes for a perfect picture. Pushed by such trivial words, I began to learn the piano in earnest.

My first piano teacher, who had encouraged President Choi, was not wrong in his assessment. I was hailed as something of a prodigy, sweeping awards at elementary school competitions.

No, I had to. If I failed at a competition, I would come home to be beaten with a switch. I had to do it, even if my wrists throbbed and my finger joints ached.

You keep doing this, and that recycle or recital or whatever it’s called, do it under our group’s name. That looked cool. Play that Hanon or Jamón thing too.

On days when he was in a good mood, thoroughly drunk, President Choi would grab my hand and shake it up and down. Thanks to his business expanding at a frighteningly fast pace at the time, I played the piano with his unsparing support.

I was on the standard path of an elite musician, going through an arts middle school and an arts high school. Until now.

“A man-cub without a single shred of goddamn grit. The piano is just something you press with your fingers, plink-plonk. Did I tell you to beat someone to death with a bat, or what. You’ve had the easiest life in our family, you know that? Why can’t you do it, you bastard.”

Thud, thud, thud. While being beaten relentlessly, I did not reveal the real reason I was quitting the piano.

It was something so special and precious that I couldn’t bear to let it pass my lips. I would rather be beaten to death than see President Choi utter ‘that’ and insult it; that was how I felt. Kill me. I’ll end my shitty eighteen years of life and be on my way. Mom, I’ll see you soon.

A long and arduous battle continued for some time. It was a fight between me, trying to quit the piano, and President Choi, trying to make me continue. I was kicked out of the house in nothing but my underwear, and I was once caught hiding in a PC bang while skipping school and beaten to a pulp.

But what could he do when I refused to move my fingers, even when he tied me to the piano chair with a rope? Aaaargh! A few months later, President Choi, screaming his head off, smashed the grand piano in the house with a hammer.

That’s right. The final victor was me. It was the day I beat President Choi for the first time in my life.

---

12 years later. As if to mock the fierce rebellion of my eighteen-year-old self, I had grown into a respectable son that President Choi wouldn’t be too ashamed of anywhere.

You’ll be in for a rude awakening if you don’t fix that temper of yours. You think society is a pushover? That was the nagging lecture President Choi always gave me when he saw me. I failed to follow my father’s words, kill my temper, and become a good boy, but I had more or less mastered the art of hiding that temper well beneath a social mask.

The reputation I acquired at the age of thirty is generally as follows.

‘They say everyone at Jaeyu Group is rough, but the youngest son is still on the gentle side. He doesn’t cause any trouble.’

‘Maybe because of the age gap with his brothers. Well, his mother is different too. I hear he’s running the entertainment company well.’

‘He lived abroad by himself before coming back, you know. If the family environment is bad, you have to send the kid abroad first. At least he’s less tainted by the dirty water……’

Even after President Choi became Chairman Choi and the number of Jaeyu Group’s affiliates grew, the business world’s view of our family was not very favorable. The disgrace of being a family that became rich overnight through loan sharking and gangster activities clung to us stubbornly and would not easily come off.

If only President Choi had spat less phlegm on the floor when he attended business gatherings, our image would be better now. Does that old man even have the will to change? Well, he’s a man who’s lived that way his whole life.

I, being a model citizen who knows shame, do not spit things like phlegm on the floor. I don’t suddenly spew curses, nor do I go crazy over women and cause trouble.

“It was a good idea to go with the cocktail you recommended, Yeseo. It’s delicious.”

Even when I’m out on an unwanted blind date like now, I do my best for the other person in this moment. Because I am a man who knows manners. I even dressed up from head to toe so that my date would at least have something pleasant to look at during our meeting.

I feel sorry for the women I go on blind dates with. If they were to find out every last detail about my family’s situation, no parent would be willing to give away their precious daughter. I heard my first sister-in-law is already suffering from female pattern baldness from being tormented by President Choi and my stepmother.

I’ve been inundated with blind date offers since last year, which is vexing. I never wanted to get married, not even when I was young, and I had absolutely no intention of agreeing to a marriage pushed on me by President Choi. That would be a terrible thing to do to another family’s precious daughter.

On the day of the date, I treat the other person with the utmost courtesy and then reject them without hurting their feelings. This was the strategy I had used for all six of my blind dates. Thanks to that, there haven’t been any major problems so far.

Today, too, if I just spend another hour or two in this nice lounge bar and then we part ways, there won’t be any reason for either of us to get worked up……

“Mr. Yisak, you’re not very interested in me, are you?”

“Pardon me?”

“You were forced to come here too, weren’t you?”

The person who had been quiet and reserved throughout the meal suddenly launched an attack. Thanks to that, I swallowed my cocktail the wrong way and choked. I urgently wiped my mouth with a tissue and tried my best to maintain a calm and nice expression.

“Did I do something wrong, Ms. Yeseo?”

“There was no mistake.”

“Then why…… It’s true that I don’t have plans to marry yet, but it’s not that I find you unpleasant or that I was forced to be here.”

I quickly reviewed the personal information of my blind date in my head. She was someone it would be troublesome to get on bad terms with emotionally. Han Yeseo, the youngest daughter of Hyunjin Group. Age 27. The fact that she was the illegitimate daughter of a famous actress was a widely known secret in the business world.

However, even though we were both illegitimate children, Han Yeseo’s situation was different from mine. Chairman Han doted on the daughter he had in his old age. I heard he was putty in his youngest daughter’s hands. The performances Han Yeseo planned were far from mainstream and consistently ran at a loss, but Chairman Han did not spare any investment in his daughter’s production company.

As someone who also runs an entertainment company, I had no desire to get on Chairman Han’s bad side. Han Yeseo’s biological mother was also an actress still actively working, so we had run into each other several times in passing.

Anyway, I had to make sure Han Yeseo didn’t go telling Chairman Han that ‘that jerk Choi Yisak ignored me.’ But why does Han Yeseo look so angry? I don’t think there was anything about my attitude to find fault with.

Han Yeseo stared at me intently and then said.

“It’s embarrassing to say this myself, but. I’m quite good-looking, you know.”

“Yes, very much so.”

She wasn’t the daughter of a top actress for nothing. It was understandable that Chairman Han would melt at the mere sight of his youngest daughter’s face. Even to my eyes, accustomed to seeing celebrities every day, Han Yeseo was a stunning beauty.

“Then why are you acting like such a block of wood? There are almost no men who act this way in front of me. Unless they have no interest in women at all.”

She hit the nail on the head. My airway felt completely blocked.

“Or unless they’re passionately in love with someone else. Well, cases like that were really rare. Even married men like pretty women, you know.”

I wracked my brain to find the best possible answer. What could I say to conclude this meeting without offending this bold young lady’s sensibilities?

“I quite liked you, Mr. Yisak. But you’re drawing such a clear line, so it’s a little disappointing. I don’t have any plans to get married yet either, you know. But dating should be fine, shouldn’t it?”

“……Ms. Yeseo is too good for someone like me.”

It was the pure truth, without a shred of exaggeration. I am someone who should be isolated alone, not date anyone. Fortunately, I took after my mother instead of President Choi, so my face is decent on the outside, but I have many flaws on the inside.

I know it best. It’s a conclusion I’ve reached after dozens of objective judgments. I will never be able to date, ever. Regardless of whether the other person is a woman or a man.

Han Yeseo pouted her lips and said.

“This is also you drawing a line. You’re an expert at building walls, aren’t you?”

“I am a boring person. Even more so when I’m dating.”

It’s probably true. Though it’s just an assumption, since I’ve never dated before. No one believes me when I truthfully say I have zero dating experience and am even a virgin, so this kind of lie became a habit long ago.

Han Yeseo downed the rest of her cocktail in one gulp.

“I get it. I said it because I don’t want to be strung along with false hope. This is cleaner for both of us, and I have no intention of clinging pathetically.”

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. It’s not because I don’t like you, Ms. Yeseo, but because I’m really not interested in dating.”

“No, that’s not it. If you fall head over heels in love, you’ll develop an interest you never had, won’t you? I guess my charms just aren’t at that level.”

“I think it would be hard to find a woman more charming than you, Ms. Yeseo. This is entirely my problem.”

“That’s funny, really. If you’re going to put up a wall, can you do it properly? Let’s just listen to some music for a bit and then go. Look, a new pianist is coming in.”

Han Yeseo gestured with her chin toward the grand piano over my shoulder. A new pianist. That was welcome news.

Ever since we came in, a soft classical melody had been flowing through the lounge bar. It’s just that I hadn’t been satisfied with any of the pieces the pianist was playing in real-time.

There were no technical deficiencies. Although most people were treating the performance as little more than white noise, a person working at a lounge bar like this would have basic skills.

The selection consisted of soft waltzes and short pieces that wouldn’t grate on the ears. I couldn’t tell how brilliant his technique was, but it was clear he was a proper music major. The notes were polished and his pedaling was precise. A clean performance with nothing to fault, and for that very reason, it was boring.

To be precise, it was a performance that didn’t excite me.

I took a sip of my cocktail and tried to relax my stiff face. I shouldn’t look so serious. The blind date was already uncomfortable, did I really need to show a stern expression on top of it? Fortunately, Han Yeseo seemed to be the type to not hold grudges, and her sullen expression had quickly softened.

It was difficult not to become serious in front of a piano. It had been a long time since I quit the piano, but I had never distanced myself from music. A life without listening to something was beyond my imagination. Thanks to that, I pride myself on still having a good ear.

“Mr. Yisak, look behind you. The pianist who just came in, he’s incredibly handsome. Actor-level.”

“Is that so?”

“You don’t seem very interested, do you? You’re the CEO of an agency.”

“Scouting isn’t my department.”

“Are you generally unperceptive when it comes to looks?”

I gave an awkward laugh.

“Perhaps.”

It’s certainly true. No matter how perfect someone’s appearance is, it doesn’t stir any particular feeling in me.

This is my problem. I don’t get excited by people. To put it bluntly, borrowing President Choi’s way of speaking, I’ve never gotten turned on by a person.

I only get excited by the sound of a piano. It wasn’t like Pavlov’s dog, getting an instant erection just from hearing any key being played, do-re-mi; it had to be a performance that satisfied me.

Ever since I heard that shocking performance, the one that made me quit the piano.

It took me quite a long time to admit to myself that I was a person with unusual sexual desires. I tried all sorts of things while studying abroad in the United States. Did you think I didn’t make an effort?

I diligently watched all genres of AV. Regardless of gender, age, or race, if someone said they liked me, I’d first drag them to bed. It ended in failure every single time, and I stopped around the time I started to think that rumors would spread in the Korean community that I was impotent.

Why on earth did I become this kind of person? I’m pretty sure I went through my secondary growth phase normally. In my opinion, President Choi’s blood is cursed. Seeing as not just me, but all my older brothers each have a somewhat perverted side, there’s no other explanation for it. It was a relief, at least, that it wasn’t an unusual sexual desire that would cause social controversy.

From my mid-twenties, I decided to accept my disposition and put my mind at ease. Can’t I just find good performances to listen to and secretly jerk off? Let’s give up and live like this. To others, I’ll just look like an intellectual who enjoys music, right? Whatever the situation with my lower half, it’s not like I’m going to go around with my underwear pulled down in front of people.

But I realized not long after. It wasn’t something to be taken lightly.

I couldn’t find a performance that could perfectly satisfy my desires. Even after scouring small music labels, there was nothing. No, in the first place, I don’t even know what my ideal performance is. In the end, I became a person with unusual sexual desires, constantly in a state of mild sexual frustration.

In a word, just a pervert.

“Right, didn’t you play the piano when you were young, Mr. Yisak? You went to an arts middle school.”

“Pardon? Ah, ah, I did for a short while. Well, I majored in business in college……”

Woong, at that moment, the atmosphere changed. The new pianist pressed a key for the first time.

A clear note rang out. I could feel it with just one phrase. This performance was worth listening to. It had been a long time since I thought I should see the pianist’s face after the piece was over.

The song choice was conventional. Fred Hersch’s <Lotus Blossom>. It was a jazz piece befitting a high-class and relatively quiet lounge bar.

“Oh. This is nice.”

Han Yeseo, who had been listening quietly to the performance, let out a small gasp of admiration. As someone who works as a concert promoter, her ear would be excellent as well.

In fact, even someone ignorant of music can unconsciously recognize what a truly good performance is. Even more so if it’s a live performance and not a recording. As proof, the sound of conversations around us had subtly subsided compared to before. The jazz piano melody filled the gaps in the noise.

The melody was soft, yet sharp in places. The timbre’s self-assertion was too strong for it to serve as background music. It had a rather different atmosphere from the original song. It was just a guess, but it didn’t seem like he was a jazz piano major. I could feel the delicately polished touch of a classical major.

Imagining the pianist while listening to the music is one of the joys of appreciation. Though I hadn’t come across such music recently. I wondered if I was growing weary of music, or if I was really becoming impotent. Since my eros is intertwined with music.

But fortunately, it seemed my sexual desire had not been castrated. My body grew pleasantly warm.

The short jazz piece was drawing to a close. My hand, which was lifting my glass to take a sip of my cocktail in time with the end, paused.

The performance wasn’t over. The atmosphere changed again.

A new phrase was inserted and a variation began so naturally that someone who had never heard the original song would not have noticed.

So he can arrange too. Is this an improvisation? It doesn’t seem like a pre-planned part. My guess that he was a classical major might be wrong. A case of someone who did classical and then switched to jazz? Or a composition major? What the hell is this guy? My body grew hotter and hotter.

Then, the improvisation ended, and in an instant, it returned to the original song, and the piece concluded. Without giving a moment to breathe, it immediately moved on to the next piece. The notes, which had been softly languid, instantly balled up and sounded like they were rolling like steel marbles.

It’s Ravel’s <Jeux d’eau>. But this is not the Ravel one commonly hears. Notes leaping up so fiercely that it’s closer to a rainstorm than a play of water. A spring, a river, a waterfall, and beyond that, a tsunami.

Seriously, what the hell is this guy?

It was a performance that would be highly polarizing. Someone might frown and think, my Ravel isn’t like this. Above all, what kind of pianist comes to a lounge bar and pours out such fierce and rough music? It’s not even his own recital.

I could feel a few people murmuring. This person’s Ravel evoked a primal sense of rejection, no, of fear. Like a human being infinitely small in the face of a massive flood.

And at the same time, it was obscene. It’s not that I’m feeling this way because I’m a pervert who gets excited by music; the performance is actually like that. The first song was just a pretense. It seems he was holding himself back a lot.

Just then, I heard someone’s voice complaining to a staff member that it was too loud.

Are they trying to stop the performance? I can’t listen to this until the end? In my moment of panic, my eyes met Han Yeseo’s. We hadn’t said a word, but it felt like we knew what the other was thinking.

Then we spoke at the same time.

“It’s good, isn’t it?”

“This performance is good.”

The boring blind date instantly ended, and it felt like we were at a concert. A feeling of meeting a kindred spirit. Seeing Han Yeseo’s wide, excited eyes, I knew. This woman is the real deal too.

Han Yeseo hastily rummaged through her bag, looking for a business card.

“Who is that person? Do you know him by any chance? I’ve never seen him before. I have to grab him first.”

Only then did I turn my head to look at the pianist sitting at the piano. Thump. Just then, the pianist put all his strength into his fingertips and struck the lower keys, and a heavy bass note shook the air.

Thump. My heart plunged to the floor at the same time.

I had felt this exact same feeling just once, a very long time ago. All the surrounding scenery stopped, and a single note seemed to split into hundreds of millions of pieces and pour into my ears. My brain felt like it was swelling from the simultaneous flood of auditory stimuli, about to burst through the front of my forehead.

And in the middle of that maelstrom of countless notes, one person was smiling leisurely.

……It’s Woo Seonrim.

“Hnngh.”

A shiver ran through me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

It’s definitely Woo Seonrim. The owner of the sound I had been searching for for 12 years. Listening to his performance while seeing the face that still retained his childhood features made the memory even more vivid.

Every time Woo Seonrim struck the keys, his jet-black hair swayed slightly. Skin so white it looked pale and the corners of his mouth curled upwards. A beautiful yet somehow eerie face.

Woo Seonrim, with his head bowed, was frolicking in the storm he was playing. I gripped my thighs tightly with my damp palms. My lower abdomen trembled and then tightened.

Drip. Just then, the storm stopped in an instant.

A staff member had come and cut off the performance. Ah. A few people simultaneously let out a deflated sound. It was a reflexive reaction. I, too, felt a mix of bewilderment and anger as the heat that had been building up came to an awkward halt. It ends here? Unbelievable.

Furious, I was about to stand up from my seat but paused.

“Ah.”

My groin was heavy. No matter how much of a pervert I was, I had never gotten this erect outside.

My legs had no strength. If I walked around awkwardly, I would attract people’s attention. I now had a social image to protect. And what on earth would Han Yeseo think of me…… I glanced to my side with worry, but Han Yeseo was gone.

When did that woman get all the way over there? Han Yeseo had already left her seat and was near the grand piano. It seemed she was going to give Woo Seonrim her business card and scout him. Her face also showed considerable annoyance that the performance had been cut off midway.

Woo Seonrim himself was sitting impassively on the piano bench, listening to the staff member. The smile he had shown during the performance had completely vanished. It was a face close to inorganic, devoid of any emotion or desire. Like a doll. A doll that the god of music had crafted out of boredom.

Woo Seonrim gave a short nod and slowly rose from his seat. He hadn’t brought a single sheet of music with him, and he was about to leave the piano empty-handed, without a trace of regret.

If it were me, I would have furiously raged at the person who cut off my performance. I would have shown them exactly what kind of temper I inherited from President Choi. No, it would be natural for any pianist to feel insulted and angry.

But Woo Seonrim seemed to feel nothing at all.

……It’s chilling.

I had felt this exact impression looking at the Woo Seonrim from 12 years ago. The sensation from that time came back vividly. Prodigies were usually followed by stories of being loved by God, but that phrase didn’t suit Woo Seonrim.

A child loved by God could not be that empty. The vitality he had shown in the performance just now also felt like a mere mirage.

What if he disappears again just like before? A sudden fear washed over me, and my body froze. The ideal I had been searching for for 12 years was inside that man. I thought it was a formless illusion, but it wasn’t.

I need Woo Seonrim’s music.

It was the moment I realized that fact with fierce intensity. Woo Seonrim, who had been moving like a faint shadow, came to a sudden halt and slowly turned his head to look this way.

Our eyes met.

The back of my neck grew hot and I broke out in a cold sweat. As if I’d been caught doing something bad in secret. I wasn’t even this startled when I got caught stealing President Choi’s prized infused liquor.

Was it because I was staring so intensely that my gaze bothered him. Fortunately, my erect groin was well hidden beneath the table. On the surface, I would just look like a person impressed by an outstanding performance. After all, I was well-practiced at pretending to be sophisticated and respectable.

Woo Seonrim did not turn his gaze away from me for a long time.

Even though we were quite far apart, I could clearly see Woo Seonrim’s black eyes. There was no way he would have recognized me. We weren’t even on terms to acknowledge each other in the first place.

Thump, thud, the storm-like piano sound that Woo Seonrim had created earlier echoed in my head. I could feel a pull in my lower body and my underwear getting damp with pre-ejaculate.

What a pervert. I mocked myself. Anyone seeing this would think I was some guy who gets excited by a man’s face and gets a hard-on in public. That’s absolutely not it. But it’s not like I could explain myself by saying, I’m not gay, I just feel sexual desire for the sound of a piano. Right now, either way would cause a problem for my social standing.

Just then, Woo Seonrim looked at me and smiled faintly.

No, perhaps it just seemed that way. It might have been my imagination, but goosebumps broke out all over my body again. While I admired and longed for Woo Seonrim’s piano, at the same time, Woo Seonrim the person was somehow unsettling.

I was afraid of Woo Seonrim.

۶ৎ

A few days later, I received a call from Han Yeseo.

— Mr. Yisak, Woo Seonrim isn’t answering his phone.

Han Yeseo’s voice was full of irritation.

— Last time too, he just took my business card and disappeared. Why does this person play so hard to get.

“……Should I try contacting him.”

— You, Mr. Yisak? All of a sudden, when you didn’t even say hello then? Speaking of which. Why were you just sitting there by yourself? You said you wanted to debut Woo Seonrim too.

I pressed my forehead with my fingertips. If I had my way, I too would have run to Woo Seonrim, asked for his contact information, and demanded to know where on earth he had been for 12 years, that I couldn’t find him even after searching through countless competition participant lists and making inquiries at famous music colleges, how could he just disappear after playing like that, with such talent…… I wanted to press him for answers.

I wanted to offer my business card and formally entice him with the idea of a debut. Then, I wanted to lock him up in our studio all day, feed him nothing but fried dumplings, and make him churn out music every day, but……

I couldn’t very well approach Woo Seonrim while hobbling, clutching my swollen groin. And of course, I couldn’t tell Han Yeseo the whole truth about all this.

“I was watching because you approached him first, Ms. Yeseo. I was worried I might get in the middle and interfere with your business. I didn’t know Woo Seonrim would turn out like this.”

— He says he’s not interested. Not in albums, not in concerts. How can he be like that? With that talent?

My thoughts exactly. I suppressed the urge to excitedly agree.

— Honestly, the story is great too, isn’t it? The return of the prodigy who suddenly disappeared. The prodigal son throwing down a challenge to the classical world, something like that is also possible. First and foremost, because his face is drop-dead gorgeous.

“Yes, there will be plenty of reaction from the media as well.”

— Why is he letting that talent and face go to waste? Even when we’re offering to spoon-feed him everything!

I could hear Han Yeseo shrieking through the phone.

The romantic tension between the two of us had completely vanished at some point. When we first met at the blind date venue, I never imagined Han Yeseo and I would end up like this. We had now simply become business partners and comrades who shared the same taste. We were both chomping at the bit to introduce Woo Seonrim to the world.

As it happened, I was running an entertainment company, and Han Yeseo was the CEO of a concert promotion company. All the conditions were perfectly in place, but the person in question, Woo Seonrim himself, was lukewarm.

What kind of musician refuses the opportunity for a solo album and a solo concert? Woo Seonrim was a truly incomprehensible human being. Now, I sometimes even doubt if he’s human at all. I can’t even begin to guess what he’s been doing for the past 12 years.

— Just…… more than anything, I want to hear more of Woo Seonrim’s music.

“I feel the same way.”

There would be some negative backlash when Woo Seonrim was introduced to the world, but he would surely shine. Han Yeseo and I believed so. The first people to recognize the genius named Woo Seonrim, the very first fans. It was a very tempting title. I didn’t want to lose Woo Seonrim.

“Ms. Yeseo, for now, our side will also try to contact Woo Seonrim.”

— He’s not easy, that guy. He’s younger than me, but he’s very good at ignoring what you say.

“He was twenty-six, I believe.”

I mumbled my words, pretending not to know for sure.

— Anyway, if you have any good news, let me know right away.

“I will.”

I hung up the phone and tapped my fingertips on the desk. What should I do.

The day Woo Seonrim played at the lounge bar. Woo Seonrim had taken Han Yeseo’s business card but disappeared without giving his own contact information. By the time my groin had subsided to some extent, Woo Seonrim was already gone.

I thought if I waited a day or two, I would hear from Woo Seonrim, but Woo Seonrim beautifully defied our expectations. In the end, I directly asked the lounge bar owner about Woo Seonrim. How they knew each other, and if he happened to know Woo Seonrim’s contact information.

‘He’s someone who came after seeing a part-time job ad. The pianist who was originally scheduled for that time had an emergency, so I hired him on a short-term basis……’

He said Woo Seonrim, despite not being a music major, had just shown up out of the blue and asked if there were any part-time positions left. The owner, while flabbergasted, was overwhelmed by his presence and told him to just play something. Immediately, Woo Seonrim sat down at the piano and played Brahms’s <Capriccio in B minor> without a hitch.

‘I thought he was a talent, so I hired him on the spot. But he didn’t follow the set program and suddenly changed the setlist on a whim that day.’

The owner, who had even considered making him a regular pianist, seemed to be in a bind as well. He said he hadn’t been able to get in touch with Woo Seonrim at all since then. The only piece of personal information the owner had about Woo Seonrim was a single cell phone number.

With the number obtained from the owner, Han Yeseo contacted Woo Seonrim. Woo Seonrim answered the first call and gave only a curt reply, “Ah, the person from that time. I’m not interested.” Since then, he had been consistently unresponsive to all subsequent contact.

I licked my dry lips in nervousness and fell into thought for a moment.

If he doesn’t answer, there’s no choice but to go find him in person, right?

Until now, Woo Seonrim had been in hiding for 12 years without leaving any trace. I thought Woo Seonrim might have died suddenly somewhere. With the Jaeyu Group’s information network, doing a background check on any average person was no problem at all, but I couldn’t obtain any information about Woo Seonrim.

But now, Woo Seonrim’s contact information was in my grasp. With a little help, I should be able to find out his address as well. To be sure, it would be better to entrust it to a professional than to move on my own.

I finished my short deliberation and made a call on my cell phone. Soon, a raspy, irritated voice came through.

— What is it.

“Hyung, it’s me. Yisak.”

— Ah, I was sleeping.

“It’s three in the afternoon.”

— Little brother. Your hyung was a bit busy yesterday.

“Looks like you had a wild night.”

My second brother, Choi Geonyoung, was always like this. He lives life easily, looks down on people, has a foul temper, is rich, and is way too into sex.

— Why’d you call?

“I have a favor to ask.”

Of course, I, who was borrowing Choi Geonyoung’s hand, was a person not much different from him.

۶ৎ

A narrow, old residential alley. The street was dim with only a few scattered streetlights. My foreign car, parked precariously close to a telephone pole, looked extremely out of place.

I leaned against the car door and put a cigarette to my lips. Driver Kim got out of the driver’s seat and rushed over to light it for me. Ssss. I furrowed my brow and took a deep breath.

I don’t feel good. Woo Seonrim lives in a place like this?

Why?

Volume-based trash bags were rolling around on the street. Flying insects buzzed near a bag that wasn’t tied properly. We barely made it up the steep one-way road by car. Driver Kim must have had a hard time.

A day after handing over Woo Seonrim’s name and contact number to Choi Geonyoung, I was able to find out where he lived. A three-story multi-family house on the outskirts of Gyeonggi Province. It was listed as the first floor, but seeing it in person, it was just a semi-basement.

‘This number was activated recently, you know.’

Chewing on the cigarette in my mouth, I mulled over what Choi Geonyoung had said.

‘But little brother, didn’t you ask me to find this guy a few years ago too? I remember because it’s not a common name.’

Unable to find Woo Seonrim’s whereabouts on my own, I had borrowed Choi Geonyoung’s help just once. Though I didn’t get much out of it.

‘What kind of guy is he? The way you were ditching all those women at your blind dates, could it be.’

‘Could it be, what.’

‘If it’s that, just do it in moderation and cut it out. Play around without getting caught. Father and our eldest brother will flip out if they find out, you.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

The memory of Choi Geonyoung’s face, grinning greasily with delight, just soured my mood. He looked thrilled, as if he had caught my weakness. I was desperate enough to ask him for a favor even knowing he would be like this. Because Woo Seonrim seemed like someone who could disappear at any moment.

‘I don’t know what you’re imagining, hyung, but you’re wrong about all of it. He’s just an artist I’ve been keeping an eye on.’

‘If you say so, then it must be so. Amen, little brother. May the Lord’s blessing be with you.’

Starting with President Choi, who began attending church right before I was born, the entire family now pretends to be devout. Of course, none of them had an ounce of faith. In the first place, naming me Yisak was nothing more than President Choi’s faithful showmanship. Well, it seems he did get some benefit from using his church connections, just as he had wanted.

If one of the brothers were to show up with a male lover, President Choi would surely collapse from high blood pressure. He’d end up in the hospital again. ……Huh, not a bad idea? The thought suddenly crossed my mind, but I immediately pushed it out of my head.

I can’t possibly imagine myself taking Woo Seonrim, no, any living human being, as a lover. In the first place, it wasn’t Woo Seonrim I desired, but the sound he created.

Even if Woo Seonrim had been terribly ugly, I would have gotten an erection listening to his performance.

“Hoo, but why isn’t he here.”

My irritation was flaring up, so I couldn’t even taste the cigarette. I took one last drag of smoke and handed the cigarette butt to Driver Kim.

I’m not the kind of person who has the leisure to waste time on a street like this. I came straight to Woo Seonrim’s place after work, and the house was empty. When I asked the landlord if he knew the young man living on the first floor, he said he had moved in two weeks ago and was out of the house every day, so it was hard to even see his face.

What the hell is this guy?

I was anxiously looking at my watch and about to put another cigarette to my lips. Tap, tap. I heard a presence from the bottom of the hill. When I turned my head, it was Woo Seonrim. The alley was so dark his features were blurred, but somehow I was certain it was Woo Seonrim.

I threw the unlit cigarette on the ground and quickly headed towards Woo Seonrim. Even when I was almost right in front of him, Woo Seonrim was walking slowly, looking only at the ground.

“Mr. Woo Seonrim?”

I put on my business tone and opened my mouth. Only then did Woo Seonrim raise his head.

“You are Mr. Woo Seonrim, correct.”

“Yes.”

Woo Seonrim answered curtly and then stared at me intently. Even though I was higher up on the sloped road, my eye level was the same as Woo Seonrim’s. He’s tall. As soon as that thought occurred to me, my gaze naturally shifted to Woo Seonrim’s hands.

Just like his long body, his fingers were long and straight. That would be considered quite large hands even among music majors. I recalled Woo Seonrim’s performance, how he handled complex techniques without any issue, as comfortably as breathing.

The music replayed in my head as vividly as if I had a CD playing inside. It wasn’t the piece I heard at the lounge bar recently, but the one I heard from below the stage at the competition 12 years ago. To think it was imprinted in my mind this clearly.

My heart beat faster and my body grew hot. I must absolutely not lose Woo Seonrim. That feeling became firm.

Until I took out a business card from my pocket and offered it to him, Woo Seonrim just stood there blankly, looking at me without a single word asking who I was.

“This is who I am.”

[JY Entertainment Director Choi Yisak]

It was a business card with various options added on high-quality paper, but Woo Seonrim just stared at the words without taking the card. Then, he just mumbled in a listless voice that would drain the energy out of the listener.

“Director Choi Yisak……”

“Pardon?”

“It’s interesting, the feel of it. Director Choi Yisak……?”

What is this guy saying. He should just take the business card, my arm is getting sore.

I suppressed the temper that flared up in me for a moment. Then, I slightly lifted the corners of my mouth, put on the fake smile I had trained for years, and said.

“I would appreciate it if you took the business card.”

“……”

“Mr. Seonrim?”

“But how do you know my name?”

Took you long enough to ask.

Woo Seonrim didn’t look at all like a person who had performed in a way that felt not just dynamic, but obscene. Just confronting Woo Seonrim was draining and made me feel lethargic.

“I saw you at the lounge bar a few days ago. Your performance was very impressive.”

“……Ah.”

Woo Seonrim replied with a sound a few beats too late, enough to make the listener hold their breath. Why is this guy like this, when he kept the beat like a demon when he played?

“Since you probably heard from CEO Han Yeseo first anyway, I’ll be direct. Our company wants to debut you, Mr. Woo Seonrim.”

“……”

“……”

“……Ah.”

I’m going to suffocate, fuck! I brought the hand holding the business card closer to Woo Seonrim’s chest.

“At least take the business card.”

Only then did Woo Seonrim take my business card and shove it deep into his jacket pocket. Then he took two steps up and stood next to me. In an instant, our eye levels shifted.

Standing so close, I could really feel Woo Seonrim’s tall stature. Since I could clearly perceive the height difference, he was probably over 190 cm. Why is he so huge. Could the pressure I felt when listening to his performance be related to his large frame? Even at this moment, a part of my mind was constantly recalling Woo Seonrim’s performance.

Woo Seonrim looked down at me intently and said.

“A debut…… is a hassle.”

For making me wait so long, it was a truly anticlimactic answer. A punk who’s 4 years younger than me is looking down at me crookedly, how rude. Half of me felt that flare of anger. And half of me felt anxious and regretful, thinking, how can he not debut with that talent? I can’t do without your performance!

However, I had already anticipated that Woo Seonrim would not be easily won over. I maintained my composure and said.

“I understand it’s burdensome. But from what I’ve seen, Mr. Seonrim, you’re a natural on stage.”

“Is that so……”

“At least listen to the conditions first. From the looks of it, you seem to be living in a semi-basement. I’ll move you to a new house first.”

“I like it here.”

“I’ll put a grand piano in the new house too.”

“A piano…… I don’t need one.”

“What do you mean by that?”

At that moment, the patience I had been holding on to by a thin thread snapped. He doesn’t need a piano. My blood pressure shot up like crazy and I became short of breath. With such talent, why. For God’s sake, why.

While possessing something so brilliant, something that others couldn’t have no matter how much they wanted or tried. The part of me that was a performer, buried long ago, flinched.

My face must have contorted quite a bit. I pressed my hand to my forehead and tried to calm my breathing. I wracked my brain so hard it felt like my head was on fire, trying to figure out a way to get Woo Seonrim to sit in front of a piano.

“You smell like cigarettes.”

Just then, Woo Seonrim’s low voice fell on top of my head. I scrunched up my eyes and stared at Woo Seonrim.

“What?”

Failed to control my temper.

“Because I hate the smell of cigarettes.”

“Ah, shit…… I’m at a loss for words.”

Should I just kidnap him and lock him up in the studio? Should I really feed him only fried dumplings and make him play for the rest of his life? It’s not like I couldn’t do it.

“Why are you trying to debut me?”

Woo Seonrim tilted his head as if he were genuinely curious. It felt like my forehead was burning with fever. I was confident in wearing a social mask. But in front of Woo Seonrim, it wasn’t easy.

I feel like I’ve gone back to being eighteen. When my forehead was split open by the ashtray President Choi threw, when I was being beaten while being called a son of a bitch. When I ran away from home and was squatting on the stairs of a subway station. When I didn’t really want to live, but when I went up to the rooftop and quietly closed my eyes, the sonata a certain boy was playing came to mind. And so, in the end, I trudged down from the rooftop.

Moments like those flashed quickly before my eyes.

I dropped my business-like tone and expression and said to Woo Seonrim.

“Because I want to hear you play again.”

I felt as if I had been stripped bare.

Woo Seonrim stared down at me silently. Those ink-black eyes. Up close, they were more beautiful and more chilling than I had expected. I couldn’t read at all what he was thinking.

“I need your music.”

“……”

“You didn’t quit the piano, did you? That wasn’t the performance of someone who had rested for a long time. You kept playing the piano, didn’t you? Where on earth have you been and what have you been doing for 12 years…… No, fuck, that doesn’t matter. From now on, you have to be sitting in front of a piano. Others may not, but you have to. You, you……”

Because you are the person who creates the most beautiful sound among all the sounds I have ever heard in my life.

Before I could utter that pathetic, confession-like sentence, Woo Seonrim’s lips, which had been closed for a long time, opened.

“Alright.”

“What?”

“You want to hear my performance, don’t you.”

His voice was like the wind flowing through the leaves of a tree. It was mixed with a lot of breath and the ends of his words were slurred. It was so empty, as if it would scatter at any moment, yet it strangely captivated the ear.

“But there can only be one audience member.”

Woo Seonrim slowly raised his hand and pointed at me with the tip of his index finger.

“Me?”

“Yes. I don’t want to debut.”

For a moment, I couldn’t understand the words Woo Seonrim was uttering and was dumbfounded.

“Why?”

“Because it’s a hassle.”

Does he mean he’ll only be my personal pianist? The only word that came to mind was really ‘Why?’.

I couldn’t follow Woo Seonrim’s way of thinking at all. They say an ordinary person can’t understand a genius, but this wasn’t that kind of helplessness. It felt like I was dealing with a completely different species, not a human.

Every element that made up Woo Seonrim was a mystery. Woo Seonrim’s past, his whereabouts, his performance, and even his appearance. There was no light in the eyes that were looking down at me intently. It was a faintly distorted expression, neither smiling nor crying.