Chapter 2

002. Revealed Talent (1)

I was a common person when it came to music.

Even though my father was a music director, it had nothing to do with me.

I went to work at the office like most people, listened to music to pass the time, and even that was put off if there was something to watch on YouTube.

Occasionally, I would listen to a new song by my favorite singer or girl group, and usually, I would listen to the Top 100.

That was me, a 32-year-old office worker, consuming music in such a common way.

That was who I was before the regression.

Even if I had regressed, there was no way anything would change.

I didn't even have the time to regret not memorizing the lottery numbers.

But then.

It was a strange feeling I had never experienced before.

The moment my hand touched the desk, I felt a strong connection. Memories and emotions flooded my mind like rough waves.

Tears streamed down my face without me even realizing it, and I could feel it clearly, without any grand reason.

'Briener... '

Briener Friedrich.

That was me.

I was him.

And I stood there for a while.

I reminisced about this room, the letters I had exchanged with the masters, the cup of tea that brought me calm, and the idle chatter with Ipero. I felt like crying again, but I held back so my mother wouldn't worry.

When I finished reminiscing for the moment.

My heart, which had been lost in memories, began to stir.

The last moment of Briener, who had wished to be happy if he could only make music, came to mind.

It was a sound I couldn't imagine, given my lack of interest in music.

But it had to be.

Because I was him.

My heart was swelling.

#

“After working even on a 12-year overseas trip, you come back and it’s work again?”

As soon as my father hung up the phone with a company employee, my mother rolled her eyes.

My father, embarrassed, smiled and apologized, and my mother, who had been scowling, quickly softened.

I looked at them with renewed fondness as I took the carry-on luggage out of the car.

This, too, is heavy and big for me now. The fact that it is enjoyable. I'm 12. 12. An age where I can do anything.

This is my reflection on returning to the past.

The other emotions of my past self, Briener, began to surge.

I looked down at my hand gripping the luggage. The familiar sensation of holding and moving something felt strange.

'A body that isn’t stiff, a perfectly fine body...'

In this way, the two memories were blending without me realizing it.

Briener's memories, which had made my head throb during the trip, had now become my own, and due to this, I sometimes experienced cognitive dissonance, but I was adapting. It would get better over time, right? Right?

“Wasn’t that heavy, Seoho?”

“Not really, I just carried it.”

“Huh?”

My mother, who had been momentarily stunned, burst into laughter. I think she understood why. It must be the tone of voice. A tone that suggests a second life... or rather, a third life?

Anyway, since my mind is that of a 30-year-old, awkward tones often slip out when a 12-year-old middle schooler speaks. I try to be careful, but it’s not easy.

Fortunately, Briener's tone of voice was a relief. Since the language is different, his noble tone doesn't come out in Korean. That's a real relief.

“Let’s go in.”

I followed my mother, who was looking at me adoringly, into the apartment we lived in 20 years ago.

My father rushed into his study without even unpacking the luggage. My mother, despite her pout, asked if he wanted coffee.

I crossed the unfamiliar house.

Plopping down on the living room sofa, I faced old memories.

‘It’s spacious.’

Was it around this time, about 4 or 5 years later?

This was when our family was living the best. My father's small company, which made movie music, was doing well.

Of course, it would have been nice if it had continued, but it didn’t.

At some point, the company's situation became difficult. I don’t know why. One day, we had to move to a smaller house.

...Was it the beginning of my second year of high school?

Still, my parents raised me in a harmonious family without any common discord. As an adult, I am most grateful for that.

Of course, I can't just watch the past repeat itself.

Now that I have returned, I want to change things.

My ordinary life.

And the lives of my family.

‘I’ll have to think about how to do it step by step...’

With that thought, I got up from the sofa and immediately helped my mother unpack her luggage. When asked why, I just smiled awkwardly.

After stacking all the gifts for relatives on one side, I finally had some free time.

“...”

What should I do?

Despite my question, I stood in front of the study, as if in a trance.

Knock knock.

There was no answer. I opened the door, thinking it was fine. My mother had said not to go to the study while my father was working, but I'm 12, right?

To say it again, an age where I can do anything.

I opened the door and stuck my face in the gap.

This place was quite unfamiliar.

After all, I rarely had a reason to come in here.

My father, surrounded by bookshelves that smelled of paper, was wearing headphones and working on music.

I approached quietly. My father's hands were busy, staring at the complex screen.

A small keyboard, which I wasn't even sure could be called a piano.

When his fingers moved, green dots appeared on the laptop screen.

‘Is this recording?’

Even if I combined my two lives, there was no way I could understand this complex mechanism.

On one side, it was the medieval era where such technology didn’t exist,

and on the other, I was an office worker who only knew Excel and PPT.

The green dots stopped appearing, like stars in the night sky, and then stopped.

My father, who noticed me standing there, greeted me with a slightly surprised expression.

“What’s this, you came to watch Dad work?”

Ha ha, that’s right. I can’t really explain why, but I’m interested.

Of course, I can’t say that. I thought of a childlike answer.

“It looks interesting.”

In a way, it was sincere.

Surprisingly, that’s how I felt now.

My father, who seemed secretly pleased, smiled.

“Really? Then why don’t you sit next to me and listen to Dad make music?”

“Sure.”

I pulled over a stool, which was usually used for books, and sat down next to him.

My father, seeing me, chuckled and patted my head. It was more like ruffling it.

“Hold on... I think there’s another monitor headset here. Ah, here it is.”

He rummaged through a drawer and put a headset identical to the one he was wearing on my head. Then he pressed the keys to check.

“How’s it? Is the sound too loud?”

At the same time, piano sounds filled my ears.

I was a bit dazed. When he pressed the keys, it felt like my body was floating.

It was just piano sounds, but an indescribable emotion washed over me.

“Seoho?”

“...Oh, ah. Yes. It’s perfect.”

“Then I’ll focus on my work again. If you get bored, let me know?”

I nodded slowly.

My father’s fingers moved again, much faster than before. It was maddening. Why does it sound so good?

I wasn’t just gaping, though. Even as I was captivated by the dazzling piano sounds, something strange caught my ear.

His ten fingers pressed different notes, but I realized there was a Cantus firmus (fixed melody) that my father was leading.

A melody that could be hummed even in complex music.

“Hmm...”

Suddenly, my father’s fingers stopped, and he sighed.

His hands stopped as if someone had grabbed them, and he frowned.

He played the section he had just played again and stopped at the same spot.

I understood why my father was doing this.

A look of being blocked by an invisible wall.

Though the subtlety of the music he was creating was clearly different, it was no different from the European musicians I had corresponded with.

I waited silently. My father kept circling the same spot. Honestly, I wanted to say something, but I didn’t have the confidence to handle the aftermath.

To give advice to my father, a music director, when I couldn’t even be bothered to play a recorder?

That would be... amazing, wouldn’t it?

Hmm, maybe not.

“Phew, it’s difficult.”

Finally, my father took off the headset. His ears were red. They looked a bit small compared to his head. I’m lucky to take after my mother.

“Wow, it’s already this late? Seoho, were you bored?”

“Not at all! I didn’t even notice the time.”

He chuckled.

“I was just repeating the same thing over and over. It couldn’t have been interesting.”

“It really was. It was interesting.”

“Really?”

My father, who seemed surprised, asked. I looked up at him with wide eyes. He asked lightly.

“Do you want to try it out? I can teach you the basics.”

Yes!

I nodded eagerly, even swallowing hard. Is this a good thing? I don’t know. But it’s good.

“Sure, come here. This small piano is called a master keyboard... but you don’t need to know that yet. If you press the red button, it counts numbers. Then when you press the keys, dots appear here, right? That’s how recording works. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, you’re smart?”

My father, who praised me like an interjection, picked up his phone.

“Knowing this much is enough to play around. I have to take a call for work, so just play around, okay?”

He added, bringing the phone to his ear.

“Be careful. Don’t drop it, okay?”

“Of course.”

What do you take me for?

Ah, a kid.

While I was nodding, my father, who seemed to have connected the call, left the room.

“Hey, did you listen to what I just sent? Is it good? But the part after that is blocked. It’s not working. I’ll bring it tomorrow and we can discuss it at the morning meeting. Okay. So...”

As the door closed and my father’s conversation faded, the room became deathly quiet.

I could only hear my heartbeat.

Honestly, I felt like crying.

Until a few days ago, I could distinguish whether these were Briener’s emotions or mine, but now it’s becoming harder to tell.

I, who had nothing outstanding.

I, who had no particular desires even if I were to live again, a common person.

I was gradually understanding. The music Briener loved. His passion.

“I don’t know.”

Despite my words, I placed my hands on the piano.

It was like a seal of a decision made.

‘...What should I do first?’

I calmed my restless heart and looked at the laptop screen.

A new window was open. The countless green dots my father had created were long gone.

But the song was still vivid in my mind.

And.

The part my father couldn’t create.