Chapter 68

068. Brinner (3)

“Haaaam─.”

Representative Han Jigun yawned widely.

Team Leader Park looked at him curiously.

He had heard that Han Jigun had gone home early yesterday (though it was only 10 PM), yet he looked even more tired than usual.

What was strange was the faint smile that lingered on his lips.

“Did something good happen yesterday?”

“Huh? Ah...”

After placing his bag on the desk and sitting down, Representative Han Jigun chuckled and took out his laptop.

“I talked with Seoho all night. But, it was so enjoyable.”

Intrigued, Team Leader Park put down the coffee cup he had brought and sat on the sofa in the representative's office.

“What did you talk about?”

“Just about music. We decided on the album concept and chose some songs...”

“Album! How were the songs Seoho made? Were they good?”

Team Leader Park's eyes sparkled as he asked.

Recalling the songs he had heard yesterday, Representative Han Jigun spoke with a mesmerized expression.

“They were unbelievably good. Even though I'm the CEO of the company producing the album, I couldn't just gush, so I calmly gave some feedback... but inside, I was incredibly excited. Seoho's movie OSTs were made without much effort.”

“Seoho mentioned that before. He said that music shouldn't overshadow the movie. But, that also means he can make music that stands out on its own.”

Suddenly, goosebumps ran down Team Leader Park's arms as he rubbed them.

And he blurted out,

“I'm really looking forward to it.”

“Me too. Even just the sketches of the songs are that good. Once they're arranged and the instruments are added, I can't even imagine what kind of album it will be.”

Nodding, Representative Han Jigun's breath quickened.

Clack.

Taking a sip of coffee, Representative Han Jigun continued with a relieved expression.

“Then we talked about how I started music in the past and discussed the direction of my future music... What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Team Leader Park was looking at him with a tilted leg and a knowing gaze.

“It's heartwarming. To be honest, I felt a bit sorry for you lately.”

“Me?”

“You've been working so hard. Of course, you were always busy, but lately, it feels like you're working desperately.”

The word 'that incident' left a bitter taste in Representative Han Jigun's mouth.

“...It's an opportunity Seoho created.”

“That's true. That's why we couldn't stop you. But, you look really tired today, yet your expression is bright.”

“At 47, I don't look bright.”

Despite his words, his smile didn't fade.

“By the way, I'm really curious about the song Seoho made with the title 'Family.'”

Representative Han Jigun's smile deepened.

It was a song that gave him energy, even though he didn't have any.

It was good as music, but the warmth it contained was even more touching.

But then, he thought of another song and his expression turned complicated.

‘That song has a different texture...’

A melancholic nuance was embedded in the melody.

It wasn't just a minor key song; the emotion itself was walking in the shadows.

Seoho described it as 'longing' when imagining a world where his family had disappeared.

Why would an 18-year-old think like that?

The melody was heart-wrenchingly poignant.

It made goosebumps run down his spine.

But, because of that, he was worried about his son.

#

“Eh? Sister. Hello.”

With my tumbler in hand, I headed to the break room and met Shin Soo-a. She was sipping coffee and flipping through sheet music.

“Are you here to record?”

“...Yeah. Getting water?”

Her eyes, which had been on me, briefly paused on my tumbler.

She nodded and quickly returned to her sheet music.

She seemed focused on preparing for the recording, but there was an inexplicable tension.

It was like this the last time we recorded, and even more so since she came back from the competition.

I filled my tumbler with water, puzzled, and she spoke again, still looking at the sheet music.

“I heard you're preparing an album? There was an article.”

“Oh, you saw it?”

“I couldn't miss it. It was on the main page.”

Ha ha ha.

SJ Entertainment said they would release a press release in a couple of days, so it must have been Choe Sung-ryeong who already posted the article. It's good to have someone who shares the news early.

“Is your recital preparation going well?”

“Is that on the main page too?”

“No, that's Kang Joon-seo.”

She chuckled and nodded.

“I'm working hard. I'll send you an invitation when it's ready.”

“Huh? Ah, yeah. Sure...”

Just as my tumbler was full, I put the lid on and was about to leave the break room when Shin Soo-a's voice came again.

“About that.”

“Yeah?”

“How was the competition?”

It was strange. I had heard this question many times, but Shin Soo-a's question felt particularly sad. She seemed to be asking casually while reading the sheet music, but her lips, visible through her bangs, trembled slightly.

“It was good.”

I answered honestly. There were many things I could have said if she asked what was good, but Shin Soo-a just nodded.

“I see... Oh, I should go in now.”

“Good luck with your recording.”

“Yeah. You too. It's going to be busy, so prepare well. See you later.”

Shin Soo-a, with her ponytail swaying, headed to the main recording studio.

Hmm. I'm not sure if she's avoiding me, but something definitely feels different.

Scratching my cheek, I returned to the studio.

As soon as I entered the booth, sheet music for the recital, scheduled for late August, was piled up around me.

Usually, after a competition, the recital focuses on the pieces performed in the competition. However, since I participated in both piano and violin, selecting the pieces was quite challenging.

‘Having too many pieces is also a problem.’

Like when I and my father sifted through the album tracks, it seemed important to find a concept that runs through all the pieces...

This was the first time I was preparing a recital under my own name.

Although it would be filled with Tchaikovsky's pieces, not my own, I had no intention of preparing it loosely.

At that moment, Shin Soo-a's question from earlier came to mind.

‘How was it? The competition.’

Perhaps the audience who bought tickets for my recital might have similar questions.

After all, the recital is named after the Han Seoho Tchaikovsky Competition.

...I sat at the piano, as if in a trance.

Again, there were many things I could have said about what was good. And...

It doesn't necessarily have to be explained in words, does it?

I took out a blank sheet of staff paper and wrote down the titles of the pieces I performed in the competition. Next to them, I wrote down the pieces I remembered hearing as an audience.

Kim Se-jin's performance... Leo Dubochel's performance...

The list, which was already long, grew even longer.

But it made the selection easier.

I only needed to keep the pieces that inspired me.

#

...The days passed in a blur of non-stop activity.

First, the recital was approaching.

While preparing for it, I also made time to prepare for the album. I started arranging the songs my father and I had selected.

My SoundCloud activities didn't stop either. After '88 Keys Reflections,' the number of people listening to my songs increased exponentially, and now each upload gets thousands of views. With so many people listening, how could I take a break?

It was enjoyable.

The audience for my performances and stories was already sold out.

The album was also nearing the recording stage.

Music had become my life.

It felt as if someone had rolled time down a steep slope,

and the recital was suddenly just around the corner.

“Phew!”

...After finishing the practice, I left the booth.

I sat at the table with the recording equipment and scanned through the pile of sheet music.

Eight pieces, chosen with my father.

Only one piece's arrangement was still undecided.

Familie.

“I'll finish this today.”

Starting tomorrow, I planned to focus entirely on the recital, so I wanted to wrap up this piece today...

“Hmm.”

A sigh escaped me, and my thoughts deepened.

Arranging might be difficult. I hadn't tried it yet.

But, I had been putting it off.

When arranging, like composing, I often get completely absorbed in the piece, and this one was a bit scary.

Because it reminded me of my family from my past life.

Even when inspiration struck, I deliberately let it fade.

Because it brought back memories.

I said I would remember forgotten musicians, even if it meant reliving pain.

But, I was afraid to remember my family.

‘I'm sorry. I keep avoiding it...’

I steadied my heart and looked down at the filled staff paper.

I started working on the piece.

I slowly immersed myself in the music.

Then,

Longing and regretful.

And irreversible.

...Brinner's memories flooded in.

───Swoosh!

...The streets of London, covered in coal dust, were being washed away by a torrential rain. The scene was strikingly different from Baden-Baden, capturing my attention.

At that moment, the door to the ballroom opened, and the main performer of the day appeared.

Haydn, spreading his arms, approached to greet me.

“You really... came!”

He looked moved.

I felt the same. The moments leading up to this place flashed through my mind, making my nose tingle. It was really hard.

But there was a performance that overshadowed all the hardships.

“I enjoyed your performance. It was so great that I want to praise myself for coming here.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Especially the new piece... it felt like two people were playing together.”

My words made Haydn's eyes widen.

He must have realized who the two people I referred to were.

One was Joseph Haydn himself, and the other was...

“That's the most pleasant compliment I've ever received.”

His new piece was inspired by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

Mozart was alive in Haydn's music.

I can't confirm it today, but I hope that hundreds of years from now, musicians like Haydn will remember him.

That's what Mozart meant by immortality.

My nose tingled again.

Haydn's eyes, recalling his friend, were already moist.

“...Ha ha, I'm getting old and emotional.”

Shaking his head awkwardly, he guided me.

The door opened again, and with Ipherson's help, I slipped inside. People began to notice me.

Their gazes were intense, and their thoughts were silently heard.

‘This is a universal feeling...’

Familiar yet uncomfortable.

Fortunately, the grand piano in the center of the ballroom was being played.

I looked up at Haydn as soon as I heard the performance.

“You're right. It's my piece.”

Haydn's Piano Sonata No. 4.

I was secretly impressed by the performer's courage.

Who would have the audacity to play Haydn's piece in front of him?

Moreover, it was quite similar to Haydn's performance.

It would be hard to distinguish if you closed your eyes.

Noticing my gaze, Haydn smiled and said,

“It's my brother, Michael Haydn.”

“Oh...!”

I remembered hearing about him.

At least in sacred music, he was far superior...

Meanwhile, I reached the table where Haydn was enjoying himself.

He introduced me to the people there.

“This is Count Brinner Friedrich from Baden-Baden in the Holy Roman Empire (modern-day Germany).”

Naturally, the people sitting at the round table looked at me, and I observed them.

The introductions continued.

“This friend is Johann Peter Salomon, a violinist active in London. And this friend is Todd MacGropen, who used to be with the Esterházy family. And...”

Just then, Haydn's brother, who had finished playing Sonata No. 4, came to greet me.

“I'm Michael Haydn. I've heard a lot about you from my brother