Chapter 61

061. Those stars pour down.

......Without Ipherson's help, I couldn't take a single step outside the castle.

No, the very concept of taking a step was meaningless to me. Wherever I went, only a long line and wheel tracks would remain.

Yet, the reason I didn't feel discouraged was that such things had never been a 'loss' to me.

Since I never had them, I never felt they were taken away.

But it must have been after returning from Mannheim.

From the moment music became my world and life itself, I began to feel a growing thirst.

And with Wolfgang's death, a whole world disappeared. At some point, this grand castle began to feel suffocating.

It wasn't the space that made me feel suffocated.

The streets outside Baden-Baden kept coming to mind.

The smell of beer I couldn't drink and greasy food I never tasted lingered in my nose.

The vibrant voices and noises of people mingled in my ears.

Without realizing it, I was 'remembering.'

There was a time when I thought that the oblivion that allowed me to forget the terrible pain was the greatest gift I had. But now, I was recalling and reminiscing about those times.

Music had changed me to this extent, and a smile escaped me.

However, even in the city of music, Mannheim, concerts weren't held every day, so my thirst grew faster and faster.

......Ipherson, as always, noticed my state. Suddenly, he started bringing guests to the castle. Specifically, he invited musicians.

'Maybe it will be some consolation?'

I welcomed the musicians with that thought.

From that day on, music often filled my room.

Even if it couldn't quench my thirst completely, it could at least alleviate the immediate dryness.

And so, as usual, Ipherson opened my door today.

......A man with a shabby appearance and a wide-brimmed hat pulled down low.

He looked slightly surprised when he saw me.

It was quite an exaggerated reaction, but I remained calm. I had seen even more extreme reactions. Some even fled, fearing that the curse might be contagious.

Still, as expected......

"Hello."

I smiled, hiding my emotions.

The man, removing his hat, walked into the room and bowed politely.

Thump—thump—

"......"

"Hello, Lord Youngshik. I am a street musician who travels across the continent performing."

At that moment, the thought crossed my mind: how could he travel across Europe with such legs?

I immediately realized my mistake.

Despite receiving such looks more than anyone, I had made that face.

I apologized.

"I'm sorry."

"It's natural to be surprised, isn't it?"

The man, who understood immediately.

He must have experienced such gazes countless times.

With a friendly smile, he took out his violin, and I asked him.

"Is your name Jacob?"

"Actually, I was born on the street, so I don't have a name. I use the most common names in each country. I've only recently arrived in this country, so I'm still using the name from the previous country. Haha."

"......So, how many names have you had so far?"

"Jacob, Oliver, Noah, William, Alexander......at least a dozen or more. From Portugal to Russia, I've been everywhere."

Jacob, or the nameless man, shrugged, and I asked him quietly.

"Across the sea, London too?"

"Yes."

"......Why do you travel so much?"

"For a living? Or, as a musician?"

"Um...as a musician?"

"To find inspiration. The streets are filled with inspiration. Moreover, no two streets are the same. How much inspiration must I have gained over the years?"

He smiled and suddenly prepared to play his violin. Leaning his head to one side, he continued.

"Since you mentioned London, I'll share what I felt there."

"Okay?"

"The last time I went, it was hard to tell if it was a city or a giant factory. The smell of coal was overwhelming."

As he spoke, he began to move his bow.

A low, eerie sound spread, expressing that intense smell.

I was intrigued by this unfamiliar way of playing and quickly became absorbed.

"Heavy steel beams were piled up, and countless workers with blackened faces sat on the streets, sighing."

The pitch of the music changed. The sound moved through the streets, sometimes breaking off briefly, sometimes stretching out, helping me imagine.

As he spoke, the music alternated, and eventually, only the music filled the room.

His words were already etched in my mind, and the music added flesh to them.

It was as if the streets of London were being painted before my eyes.

As if I were walking those streets myself.

Or, as if the scenery he described would unfold outside the window.

Gradually,

The veil of the unknown was lifting.

......

The next day, he left Friedrich Castle.

Promising to return someday.

When I offered to sponsor him, he said it was meaningless for someone who would continue to wander, and only extended his hat. That was his way of collecting money.

I spent the time feeling a bit disappointed.

Musicians always came to the castle and played similar music. Then, news came that Haydn had achieved great success in London.

......And.

After much deliberation, I made a decision.

"Master. There's a small concert in Mannheim......"

"Let's go."

"Yes, I'll prepare."

"No. Prepare to go to London, not Mannheim."

"......What?"

Ipherson stopped in his tracks.

And, unusually, he stammered, trying to persuade me.

Crossing the sea so suddenly would be too difficult, he said.

But that's why I chose London. A place I never thought I could go to.

I recalled the music of the nameless street musician.

As the veil of the unknown lifted and a sense of familiarity washed over me, my fear diminished.

"Still, I want to go."

Leaving the castle, I stood at the door.

On the streets, where the music that pulled me from death to life awaited.

#

───!

"......"

Pavel stood in the backstage.

After Han Seoho's solo, he was about to conduct the final piece, the orchestra performance.

Han Seoho's original composition, which he had heard several times.

The piece was the same, but the performance had changed.

The piano performance, already close to perfection, was about to reach another level.

It went beyond mere expression......

Then, his brother, Gregory, who approached from the side, said,

"The motif was the streets of Moscow, right?"

Pavel paused his thoughts and nodded. Gregory then slowly mused,

"You expressed it well. When you go outside, it feels like Red Square will unfold. You were right to choose this piece."

"......Of course."

But, why was that?

Returning to what he had been thinking about earlier.

From Han Seoho's performance, a myriad of emotions were conveyed, beyond mere expression.

From an extremely gloomy point to a hopeful atmosphere.

He was painting the entire spectrum in one performance.

Musical interpretation is always based on the composer's experiences. That's why when an unpublished Tchaikovsky piece is discovered, the feeling of the performance is captured as a keyword, and his life is explored. There must be a clear motivation in it.

So, was Han Seoho presenting the streets of Moscow and telling his own story through 'the street'?

A mere 16-year-old performer?

Not just in expression or technique.

But in the layers of emotions and experiences.

It was seasoned.

"......"

Han Seoho finished his performance.

A loud, well-deserved applause filled the air.

After a while, the staff gave the signal.

Just before stepping out, I glanced to the side, and my brother was still staring at the stage with a faint smile, a very satisfied expression for him.

Confirming this, I walked onto the stage.

The applause continued as I appeared, and the concertmaster stood up to shake my hand.

Pavel, on the podium, held the baton and scanned the orchestra.

At the end of the line, Han Seoho caught his eye. He had already risen from the piano chair and was sitting in the first violin section, right behind the concertmaster.

'The genius of geniuses.'

Why did that phrase come to mind?

Looking at the boy, who raised his bow with a gentle smile, I felt a shiver down my spine. My neck felt stiff, and goosebumps rose.

......It really felt like Mozart was waiting for my baton.

#

Performing my original composition on stage was a first, excluding film shoots. When I finished the performance, I felt a strange emotion along with old memories.

And the luck I was given today didn't end there.

─!

Pavel's baton sparkled in the light as the performance began.

The second violins built a long harmony, and the first violins joined in with a time delay.

Han Seoho naturally blended in, fulfilling his role.

As an instrument, not the main character, he played with the orchestra.

A performance where no one tried to stand out.

The music, woven like many gears meshing, flowed like a river, giving a wave-like emotion throughout the performance.

Feeling this flow, I soon reached the climax.

Boom! Boom!

The timpani intensified the music.

The horns added grandeur.

At that moment,

───!

I, along with the first violinists, played the highest note in the piece.

The high note soared clearly into the audience.

Focused, I naturally looked at the audience.

The dark space.

In it, many shining eyes were visible.

It felt like......facing the stars in a dark sky.

......The stars of the white night.

Those stars pour down.

#

"Surely we'll meet again soon."

......Back in Moscow.

In the Beinoff Foundation's practice room, Pavel smiled and said,

"I can't wait to see how great you'll be then."

Blushing at the praise from the maestro, I smiled.

I'm not sure if I'll be great, but I'll keep working hard.

Just as I gathered the courage to leave the castle to hear more music.

Just as I met many musicians afterward.

"Come visit anytime! Then we can really practice many pieces. Enjoy a wild night too!"

"Next time, write an orchestra piece. I think you can do it?"

"I'm looking forward to it. What kind of piece will it be?"

"So, what's your email address?"

Starting with Leto, who had become the most comfortable among the orchestra members, the farewells continued.

And finally, Im Jin-gyu.

"When you return to Korea, things will be different. People's attention, jealousy......"

Seeing his worried expression, I thought for a moment and said,

"I won't hide too much."

"......What?"

"If I hide just because I don't like the attention, the spark I worked so hard to keep alive will go out, right?"

Im Jin-gyu's eyes widened.

With a deeply moved expression, he said,

"You really need to grow up quickly. I really want to buy you a drink."

......With the promise of a future meeting, we said our goodbyes and stepped out onto the street.

I walked the familiar street, the one that inspired my composition. Naturally, the melody of the piece I composed echoed in my mind.

At the square I arrived at, Grandpa Viktor was there as usual. But today, he wasn't performing on the street; he was sitting on a bench with the girl who lent me the violin.

Hearing her chatter, Grandpa Viktor turned his head toward me and smiled brightly, waving his hand.

"Are you not performing today? Did I come too late?"

"No, I was waiting for you."

"For me?"

"I wanted to thank you. It was the best performance of my life."

The best performance of my life......

That heavy yet inspiring statement made me tense up a bit. I thought it would help calm my racing heart.

"I already said this before, but I'm the one who's grateful."

"But you didn't do anything......"

"You were part of the piece."

At my answer, Grandpa Viktor's expression showed a mix of emotions, impossible to pinpoint.

He looked down at the ground he stood on.

"I see. Since I'm part of the streets of Moscow......"

He smiled and nodded, and a small voice came from the side.

"Mr. Performer. After class, I came to see Grandpa's performance and heard he was waiting for you, so I waited with him...... Can you sign this, please?"

She handed me the violin as if presenting a precious item.

Sign......?

I was momentarily stunned. Until now, I had only written 'Han Seoho' in regular script when asked for a signature.

I couldn't do that.

If I hastily scribbled something, it would surely look like a worm's handwriting.

In the end, after some thought, I decided to mimic Ipherson's handwriting. I moved the thick pen and handed it back to the girl. It looked similar......

"I have to go now. Stay healthy."

"Stay healthy and keep playing good music. I'll be waiting."

"I'll let you know as soon as the album comes out!"

With that, I finished my final goodbyes and started walking.

Walking the quiet street, it was natural to fall into deep thought.

Pack my bags at the hotel and......

Such immediate plans.

How well did the soprano record for Choi Yeon to be so confident?

Ihoik and Yang Hangil are probably the same, right? After all, they're the same even in their 30s.

Is President Baek Hangil in good health? I should go and play for him. He'll probably like this original composition too.

The OST ensemble members seem very busy, judging by the quiet chat room.

......Curiosity about the people around me.

All sorts of thoughts popped up.

But there was no need to keep wondering.

I could just check.

It's time to go back, right?

So, let's hurry.

Home.

Viktor watched Han Seoho, who was walking away.

The girl stood beside him, looking at his back.

Both were sending their support as fans.

Then, the girl suddenly looked at the violin in her hand.

......Huh? An English name?

On the side of the violin, in elegant handwriting, it read:

[Briner]