Chapter 1

※ All place names, units, and characters in this work are fictional.

Please sing.

‘What a damn good day it is.’

Muttering this to myself, I stepped out of the hospital’s main gate. Squinting at the sudden influx of sunlight, I made a shade with my hand.

During the regular checkup, which comes around like a festival since birth, there was surprisingly no change at all.

‘Of course not.’

Even so, I couldn’t help but hold onto a sliver of hope. If there was one thing I wanted in my life, it was a normal voice.

I was born with a congenital vocal cord deformity.

When I let out my first cry, my parents couldn’t be happy. The doctor, sensing something was wrong, hurriedly referred me to a pediatric specialist.

That’s how I was diagnosed with a congenital vocal cord deformity. The lack of pain was a stroke of luck, but the infant’s vocal cords were too delicate for surgery to be considered.

How must my parents have suffered, having to listen to the terrifying cry of a demon? If it were my own child?

How ironic it must have been for the baby to be startled by his own cry and burst into a cry of fear.

Becoming a child who was almost mute was a natural outcome.

Was it the price I had to pay for losing my voice?

Ironically, I was born with an ear that craved the beauty of sound more than anyone else.

That’s why I couldn’t help but be immersed in the enchanting melodies of classical music. As the years went by, I became a severe omnivorous music addict.

At 8 years old, I gained the possibility of improving my voice through surgery. Despite my parents’ worries, I insisted on having the surgery.

I was incredibly excited and happy until I checked the results after recovery.

Was it the backlash of high expectations?

The results were disappointingly terrible. Objectively, it was softer than before, but it was a voice that anyone would instinctively find terrifying.

A deep, unpleasant, and irregular metallic sound mixed with a muffled, unpleasant breath was my voice.

The sound of air escaping, making it difficult to distinguish clear pronunciation, was also a problem.

A hellish voice coming from a young child just starting elementary school. It was enough to create a sense of dissonance.

Even the doctors and nurses present couldn’t bring themselves to speak. What more could be said?

Even those who had experienced my voice couldn’t hide their genuine, instinctive reaction. Their physical responses expressed the chills of fear they felt.

‘Ah, I have to live without a voice.’

That’s when I realized.

People with disabilities live on. So why not me?

Although it was inconvenient, it wasn’t life-threatening. I consoled myself with that.

Perhaps I naturally came to understand that in life, there are things I have to give up.

After that, I became a voluntary mute. I started using instruments to replace my voice.

My parents tried to teach me to make sounds, despite my reluctance. They said not doing it and not being able to do it were different.

Practicing speaking while listening to my terrifying voice every time?

I’m as stubborn as anyone, but I couldn’t resist the love of my mother, who listed all the reasons for practicing and my father, who pleaded with tears in his eyes.

I accepted their persuasion on the condition that I would practice alone in my room. I often fled from the noise pollution that lasted just 10 minutes a day.

Thanks to my parents’ persistent efforts, I managed to make sounds that could be understood. I no longer hated my own voice.

Perhaps it was because I got used to it. I still really dislike it, but I can’t separate myself from it.

Today, I visited the hospital with a sliver of hope, but perhaps it’s time to let go of any lingering hopes.

It’s time to stop begging for miracles.

I put on the headphones around my neck and smiled bitterly. I wanted to hear beautiful sounds.

Or maybe, as long as it’s not my voice, it’s fine.

Reflecting bitterly, I adjusted the violin case on my shoulder and headed for the crosswalk in front of the hospital. Seeing the green light, I quickened my pace.

“?!”

A scream-like call pierced through the song in my headphones, and my arm was forcefully pulled.

My legs staggered in the direction I was being dragged, and the violin case strap slipped off my shoulder, dangling close to the ground.

“Ugh…”

I straightened my body and calmed my startled heart.

I saw a young man standing in the middle of the crosswalk who had grabbed me.

The motorcycle that had ignored the signal and sped by was already out of sight.

This man saved me.

Was my mind scattered from the hospital visit? Did the song in my headphones distract me?

Whatever the reason, I realized I almost had a traffic accident.

The man took off my headphones and led me to the opposite side of the crosswalk.

Caught off guard, I checked if I was hurt anywhere.

“Are you okay? You almost had to go back to the hospital.”

That’s right.

I bowed deeply to express my gratitude.

Usually, I would just say thank you and be done, but in my case, I prefer to offer material compensation instead of verbal thanks.

It was lunchtime.

I grabbed his sleeve and pointed to a nearby 설렁탕 (ox bone soup) restaurant.

Fortunately, there was a restaurant nearby. If not, I would have had to give him a bunch of instant food from a convenience store.

“Huh? You want to go eat? You’re offering to pay?”

Nodding, I smiled faintly, and the man laughed while being led along.

How could he follow so willingly? How does he survive in this harsh world? Tsk.

I opened the door of the 설렁탕 restaurant, giving him a mental pep talk as he looked 10 years older than me. ‘Welcome,’ the greeting echoed as the door opened. I looked around and saw a kiosk.

Of course. I knew this 설렁탕 chain would have a kiosk.

In a regular restaurant, I would have to rely on sign language to order without speaking.

That’s why I preferred restaurants with kiosks or delivery apps.

I ordered first and stared at the man, who then ordered the same 설렁탕.

After paying with a card, I sat down and waited for the 설렁탕 to arrive.

“I’ll eat well. It feels a bit odd to make a kid pay… but I’ll just get this. Got it?”

Nodding and smiling faintly, the man laughed in response.

“You were really in danger just now. Even with a green light, you have to be careful. I’m lucky I have quick reflexes. I thought my heart was going to drop out of my chest.”

A soft, velvety voice flowed out like a first love song.

Among the people I’ve met in my life, he had one of the best voices.

Not only his voice, but the way a 20-something man could speak so affectionately and tenderly was surprising. It felt like I had become a baby again, even though I’m not a baby.

“Hey, it’s here. I was just about to eat alone, so this is perfect. I’ve been eating alone for a few days, and the rice grains got stuck in my throat. I can eat well today. Ah, I talk a lot, don’t I? Hurry up and eat. Pick up your chopsticks.”

Why should I be grateful? It’s probably more boring than watching a video on the seat in front.

Feeling a sense of déjà vu, I watched him eat the 설렁탕 enthusiastically.

This man doesn’t find it strange that I don’t speak.

Usually, people feel curious and ask or show their curiosity. This is the first time I’ve met someone who acts naturally like my family.

Is there someone like me around him? Or is it his natural consideration? Either way, it was welcome.

Suddenly, my appetite returned, and I took a large spoonful of rice. During the meal, the man chatted.

“You play the violin. I wanted to learn, but even the guitar was too much. You look like you’re in school. Are you in high school? Or middle school? It’s hard to tell these days.”

Middle school? I’m this tall?

Frowning deeply, the man burst into laughter and then drank water to suppress a cough.

“Haha, you’re in high school, right? I can tell from your reaction. When you’re young, you don’t like being told you look young. If you were in middle school, you wouldn’t have frowned like that. Right?”

Is it because of the age difference? It’s annoying that my thoughts are so easily read. Are all adults like this?

“Sorry, did it bother you? Stick your lips in. Haha.”

Why do my lips stick out on their own? I quickly fixed them.

“You express yourself with your face. Your expressions are really good. You seemed cold at first, but your expressions are dynamic. It’s a kind of reverse charm.”

The compliments were overwhelming. Do people really use such expressions in real life? The more I thought about it, the more questions I had.

Judging by his smooth way of speaking, he must be in a persuasive line of work? Or maybe a host?

As I tried to guess, the man gave me the answer.

“Too creepy? I always get nagged by my members, but I couldn’t change. It used to be my strength, but now I need to be more restrained. To be honest, I was an idol. Since you’re into music, I’ll tell you this as a special favor.”

An idol? The ones who dance and sing on TV? This man was an idol?

With more question marks on my face, the man continued.

“Really. We only had one song, and it didn’t do well, so you might not know. Isn’t it surprising?”

It is surprising. To meet someone from such a rare profession in front of me. This must feel like meeting an intangible cultural heritage.

I couldn’t say it out loud, so I moved my lips.

It does seem to fit?

When it comes to music, I don’t discriminate by genre. I started with classical and now enjoy popular music. I listen to pop songs and sometimes even folk songs from other countries.

Given my wide range of tastes, I might have missed a fleeting idol song.

The most important thing for a song to become one of my favorites is ‘expression.’ But it also needs to be supported by elements like tone, diction, and skillful control of dynamics.

In that aspect, this man is a master. I could feel it even without hearing him directly.

“Search for ‘Clearly’ and you’ll find pictures. You’ll probably see more makeup products, so search for ‘Clearly Jung Hyun-oh.’”

Searching for ‘Clearly Jung Hyun-oh’ brought up images. The man in front of me, this older brother, was indeed him.

The stage photos were a bit hard to recognize, but the profile picture was definitely Jung Hyun-oh.

I lowered my gaze to my phone again.

26 years old, 9 years older than me.

There were a few articles about the group’s disbandment. The news didn’t even make a big splash and quietly faded away.

‘He really is a failed idol.’

I wondered what to say to comfort him, but his expression wasn’t particularly dark. He wasn’t embarrassed or sad.

“I’m definitely disappointed. There were many things I lacked, and luck didn’t favor me. But I did my best. I can say that with confidence. And I love singing and dancing so much that if I could go back in time, I’d still be an idol. Of course, I’d debut with a different agency and in a different way. Ah, and I’d take my members with me.”

Jung Hyun-oh, who had been lost in thought for a moment, finished his 설렁탕.

“Am I too talkative? Sorry. When someone listens well, I tend to open up. So it’s not just my fault, right?”

With a smile, Jung Hyun-oh’s light brown hair and his eyes, drawn like with a brush, twinkled.

Jung Hyun-oh had a face that women would call handsome.

He didn’t have a unique feature, but every part of his face was well-proportioned. It was a face that took makeup well.

Most importantly, his smile was kind and gave a good impression.

The bizarre makeup from his past stage photos overlapped with his face.

Why did they do such makeup? His bare face is better. Was it because he had no choice and was forced to do it…?

“Shall we get up if you’re done? Do you have to go back to school?”

As we left the restaurant, he put a candy in my hand.

A single mint candy in my palm. Instead of putting it in my mouth, I bit my lip.

Without a reason to hold on, this would be the end. Normally, we would part here.

But I.

I want to hear his music. I want to have a conversation.

Music is a form of conversation for me. It’s a bit one-sided, but the stories told through various voices are always enjoyable.

Jung Hyun-oh seems like he would tell me a gentle story.

A small hope rose, but I hesitated.

Hesitation means that while my rational mind says it’s not a good idea, my heart wants it.

In the end, I couldn’t resist the rising desire.

“Please sing.”

Only after I spoke in my terrifying voice did I realize I had asked a complete stranger, whose name I didn’t even know, to sing.

I would find it absurd too…

Feeling foolish for acting without thinking, I waited for his permission.

I was playing with my hair when he grabbed my wrist and stopped me.

His expression was more amused than exasperated. It didn’t look like a mocking smile.

“Your first words aren’t even a greeting, but a request to sing!”

There was no comment on my demon-like voice from hell. It would be natural to feel repulsed.

Despite the unfamiliar gaze, Jung Hyun-oh laughed heartily for a long time, as if it relieved his chest.

“Tell me your name. Then I’ll sing for you.”

“…Ham I-won. Seventeen years old.”

Later, I thought. That day’s encounter definitely altered the course of my life.