Chapter 44

044. Main Event (1)

When the news of Kim Sejin, the much-anticipated contestant, advancing to the main event of the competition stirred the classical music world, journalist Choi Sung-ryeong sat at her desk, scanning the internet.

South Korea has consistently produced a significant number of main event qualifiers in the Tchaikovsky Competition every year, and it was expected to be similar this year as well. However, the spotlight was overwhelmingly focused on Kim Sejin, who was already well-known to the public.

Perhaps it was also because the list of main event qualifiers had not yet been announced, but even if it were, it seemed unlikely that much would change.

The monthly classical music magazine, the only one of its kind in the country, was also paying attention to Kim Sejin, and it was no different for the major media outlets.

Given the nature of the competition, where a contestant's proven track record from previous competitions is clear, it was difficult for any surprises to occur. Therefore, it was somewhat natural for the expectations to be concentrated on one person.

Amidst this,

Choi Sung-ryeong found herself smiling more and more slyly.

Hm—

...Just like now.

She recalled the news she had heard directly from Han Seho. No matter how many times she replayed it in her mind, she couldn't help but be amazed.

"Really, both of them passed...?"

She couldn't grasp how significant this was.

Because it had never happened before.

When she first heard that he was applying for both instruments, she thought it was something that could only happen if Mozart came back to life... But it actually happened.

She was surprised, and strangely, she understood.

'It was a performance that was more than enough.'

She had seen the performance that was sent in on video.

Recalling that scene, Choi Sung-ryeong moistened her lips.

The impression from that performance was still fresh in her phone.

'This will be very helpful.'

Interest in the competition was already ripe, and now that she was about to write an article about Han Seho, she thought each of these impressions would be useful in introducing him to the public.

However,

'There's no need to reveal everything at once.'

Looking at the document program, she wiped the smile from her face and thought seriously.

She had a lot of information. Since the list of main event qualifiers had not yet been announced, if she revealed everything at once, it would immediately draw a lot of attention to Han Seho.

Choi Sung-ryeong concluded that she needed to hold back for now.

If she wrote everything in one article, the impact would be clear, but it would end there.

With major media outlets vying to cover the Tchaikovsky Competition, a small classical music magazine would have little chance to stand out.

So, she planned to gradually release information until Han Seho entered the main event.

When the unprecedented participant who applied for both piano and violin gained fame, her articles, which had been posted multiple times, would be re-evaluated.

With her resolve firm, Choi Sung-ryeong began typing.

She completed a simple article, gradually revealing the information she had gathered, without including any photos.

Then she paused to think.

The most important consideration for a journalist.

...What would be a good title?

After a long while, she smiled, seemingly having come up with a satisfying headline.

<The Pianist We Don't Know, Han Seho>

#

It had been a long time since she visited President Baek Hangeul, and even then, she had to squeeze in the time to play alternating pieces on the piano and violin.

President Baek Hangeul, who was expected to comment, listened to the music as if it were natural, and his face remained pleased, as if he was hearing exactly what he wanted to hear.

After the medley of pieces ended, an aunt who worked there brought in a herbal tea with a subtle fragrance.

She sipped it gratefully, and then heard President Baek Hangeul's voice.

"If you hadn't played for me, I would have gone to the concert hall to hear it."

He must have been referring to the competition preparation pieces she played today.

I smiled and shook my head.

"Professor Jang wouldn't have allowed it."

"What does that stonehead's permission matter to me? Listening to the music I want is the real treatment for me."

"Then you must have had a good treatment today?"

President Baek Hangeul, who had been frowning, burst into laughter.

He then spoke earnestly, chuckling.

"It was good. I imagined you playing this in the concert hall."

"How was it?"

"It was impressive. And it gave me chills."

His praise made me feel pleased as well.

"Since it will be streamed online, you can see if it's the same as your imagination. Oh, is it too late there...?"

There was a 6-hour time difference, so it made sense.

Especially since my first performance would be after 1 a.m. local time, and President Baek Hangeul's condition wasn't good lately, it would be a bit difficult for him.

However, President Baek Hangeul said it didn't matter.

"Don't worry. I'll make Professor Jang sit next to me and watch it. Sun-hwa and Jong-woo are coming too."

"You've already made plans?"

"Not plans. I ordered them. You keep forgetting, but I'm still the president. They are the CEO and vice president of the subsidiary."

His lips, which had been curled, rose with effort but brightly.

"Anyway, I hope it's quiet that day."

"..."

I knew he wasn't talking about noise.

He wanted his body to be quiet.

This wish was so familiar that I felt a pang of something myself.

"It will be fine. They say you know exactly when your body needs to be fine."

I had said that.

When the day came to listen to music, the seizures stopped like magic.

I even remembered what I had told Il Perso at that time.

'The disease knows. To torment me for a long time without killing me, it must not touch the music.'

Il Perso's bitter expression at that time came to mind,

and beyond that, I saw President Baek Hangeul smiling faintly.

"You're a remarkable child."

I found myself remarkable too.

Living a third life with two sets of memories was not a common occurrence.

After exchanging smiles, I lightly shrugged and spoke.

"Ah, and I have a question."

"Sure, ask away."

"How are the musicians sponsored by the SJ Cultural Foundation selected?"

"Various methods are used. For students, employees go around to select them, and we also receive recommendations from professors and teachers. For adults, we generally support already verified professionals. Why do you ask?"

"There are many talented musicians who are overlooked."

At my answer, President Baek Hangeul opened his eyes sleepily. His lips were still curled.

"Do you think the foundation isn't doing its job properly?"

"Oh, no, that's not it."

As I hurried to explain, President Baek Hangeul burst into laughter and continued.

"Actually, Representative Yang has been considering this issue. It's true that we've focused on talented young musicians so far. But now, we plan to create a program to discover overlooked musicians and put more effort into it."

"That's good to hear."

"Hmm? Is that all? If you have musicians to recommend, let me know. I'll put in a good word."

I stroked my chin for a moment, then slowly shook my head.

"It should be fine. If the foundation creates such a program, the musicians will naturally come to the surface. Definitely."

If I give a hint at the right moment that such a program exists, it should be enough.

President Baek Hangeul grumbled.

"Who said that? I'm just trying to make my employees' work easier. Do you think I would pressure them to select someone?"

"If you say it, it will be pressure."

I shrugged and laughed.

President Baek Hangeul let out a sigh and smacked his lips.

"You really don't seem like a student."

While staring at me, President Baek Hangeul suddenly spoke.

"Oh, by the way. Since we're on this topic, I should tell you. I received a call from Representative Yang of the foundation yesterday. He made an unexpected proposal."

"What kind of proposal?"

"Representative Yang used to play the Guarneri every six months to maintain it."

It was something I had heard at the Patron's Night.

I remained silent, knowing it, and he continued.

"You played the Guarneri at the Patron's Night last year. And on the day that marks exactly six months, he wants you to play it again."

As I listened to him, I calculated the date.

And I was puzzled.

"But I'll be in Russia then."

"Exactly."

"..."

President Baek Hangeul caught my confusion and smiled.

"Send it there."

#

"Hey, are we moving?"

Father, who had finished his work and entered the house, laughed and scanned the living room. I was also surprised when I followed him in.

The meeting with the Beinoff Symphony and the competition.

Even considering the long trip of over a month, the amount of luggage my mother packed was considerable.

"There are reporters everywhere, and interview requests might come. So, you need to wear different clothes each time."

"Even if the competition is drawing attention, it's not that extreme. Besides, Seho isn't famous yet. Even after the list of main event qualifiers is announced, people might think it's a different person with the same name."

"That's because his face isn't known yet, and he has no competition participation record. Once the first round of the main event is over, the reaction will be completely different."

Father finally agreed with Mother's argument.

"That makes sense. It's an unbelievable situation... Huh."

Father turned to me and burst into laughter.

Suddenly, I became an unbelievable child who did an unbelievable thing and smiled awkwardly.

Anyway...

Toothbrush and toothpaste...

I placed the travel items I bought outside on the neatly packed suitcase.

Mother laughed as she packed instant noodles and chili paste.

"Did you tell him to bring them?"

"No, Seho said he should pack them first."

"Where did he see that he needs to pack such things?"

Have you traveled a few times? Of course, at this point, it was only once when I was in elementary school...

"I know this much. I searched online to see if the food would suit my taste, and it said I should definitely bring them."

Mother laughed, finding it cute.

"You seem so calm. I thought Seho would be mature in such situations, but he's still a child."

She chuckled in agreement.

Still, I was definitely excited.

The day was approaching when I would perform the pieces I had practiced in front of people.

And the next day,

I left the house, looking at the clear sky after a long time.

Messages from friends who were going to school started flooding in.

[Lee Ho-ik: I'm going to Han Gil's to see your performance.]

[Me: Did Han Gil's parents allow it?]

[Yang Han-gil: Yes. They allowed it when they heard a friend was in a competition. They are very curious. I think my parents will watch it too.]

[Lee Ho-ik: ???]

It would be an uncomfortable viewing experience for Lee Ho-ik.

I chuckled, and then messages from Chae Yeon, Director Park Dong-jin, and writer Song Eun-hye started coming in one after another. They seemed to be together for the filming of the movie 'Soprano'.

I sent thank-you messages while heading to the airport, exchanging messages with this person and that person.

Suddenly, I turned my head and saw the sunlight reflecting on the Han River, breaking like gold leaf and floating.

Inspiration struck, and I stopped everything for a moment to fill a few lines of sheet music.

Then the messages continued.

By the time I finished my call with Professor Yoon, we had arrived at Incheon Airport.

"I'll try to adjust my schedule as much as possible."

"You don't have to push yourself."

"Right. Don't be nervous. I know you won't."

"Understood."

I went through the procedures with my father's encouragement. My mother, with a face full of regret, followed me, talking about various things until the end.

We chatted at a café in front of the gate and boarded the plane at 10 a.m.

After a 9-hour flight, we arrived at Moscow Sheremetyevo International Airport.

Contrary to the expectation that it would be dark, it was as bright as daytime at 7 p.m.

After being amazed by the scene for a moment, we met our guide and headed to the hotel.

Since the Tchaikovsky Competition organizers provided practice rooms, we needed to stay as close to them as possible, and the chosen place was the Metropol Hotel.

The lobby, as expensive as its price, left us speechless as we checked in. Just as we passed through the lobby, it started buzzing.

"..."

People sitting around stood up and looked in one direction.

Most were East Asians, and the Korean language could be heard, making me follow their gaze even more.

'Are they reporters?'

A few people who looked like reporters crossed the lobby.

They headed toward the hotel elevators.

A boy about my age came out from there.

With a pale face and a slender build, he exuded a noble aura as he walked through the murmuring crowd.

Even without someone muttering his name, I knew who he was.

Kim Sejin.

'He's staying here too.'

Although I had never met him, I felt familiar because of all the talk about him on the internet.

And even if I hadn't, I had wanted to see him at least once.

I had watched almost all of his performance videos.

He played incredibly well.

I wanted to ask what thoughts he had while playing this and what he emphasized in that...

"Envious?"

...I was startled.

I jumped and turned my head.

A woman who had approached and stood next to me like a companion.

Journalist Choi Sung-ryeong stood with her arms crossed, her gaze on Kim Sejin, and a smile on her lips.

I had received a message that she was coming, but...

"What do you mean?"

"Being in the spotlight like that."

I looked at her, then back at Kim Sejin.

Reporters trying to get a comment on his arrival in Russia.

So what? He must be amazed too. It's past 9 p.m., and the sunset is just now setting.

I shook my head.

Not only was I not envious,

"A bit tired, maybe?"

Choi Sung-ryeong asked, 'Really?' and looked at me.

Then she smiled meaningfully and added,

"You'll have more of that in the future, I think."