Chapter 76

076. The Me I Convey (1)

"Showcase?"

When I asked, Olivia nodded and downed her coffee in one gulp.

"Many people want to see Seoho's performance. It will have a positive effect on the album activities in many ways."

I knew that my name came up frequently in Korea and Russia, but it feels different to know that it's the same in the United States. It's as if I can feel unexpected attention.

Well, that's probably why a traditional classical record label like Royal Classic chose to distribute my album.

'It's a strange feeling.'

Just like I told Choi Sung-jeong that being famous would be tiring, being well-known is not always a pleasant thing in daily life.

Even when shopping with my mother, dining out with the family on weekends, or occasionally taking the bus, it was inconvenient. Even if not many people recognized me.

However, it was certainly a grateful thing that so many people were interested in my performance.

I used to think that just making music would be enough. But now, I'm receiving so much attention beyond that.

And through the internet, a marvel of civilization, it reaches many more people than in the past.

Perhaps what I now take for granted might have been a desperate dream for forgotten musicians.

Just as music was not as natural to me as it was to them.

"It sounds interesting."

It was a belated response, but it slipped out between the smiles that had spread.

Olivia, who had been watching me, slowly opened her mouth.

"Wow, that's amazing. I got goosebumps just now."

"Huh?"

"It seemed like a lot of thoughts crossed your mind. In the end, you seemed happy about the idea of performing. Is that right?"

"Can you read thoughts from expressions?"

"Hehe. A friend of mine said that expressions are part of the performance. I've been paying more attention to them since then."

Olivia, who had shrugged, wrapped up the brief meeting.

As she was about to leave the conference room to prepare for the recording, she suddenly spoke and stopped me.

"By the way, do you know Professor Celine Palmer?"

I recalled the white-haired master sitting below the stage, shooting intense gazes.

Another owner of a Guarneri, a Mozart specialist, and a renowned violinist, along with Jean-Philippe Aulas, as one of the world's best violinists.

"I know. I've watched her performance videos often. And...?"

"This year, she was also a judge at the Tchaikovsky Competition."

"Right. But why her?"

When I asked, puzzled, Olivia, who had brought up the topic, also looked confused.

"She's been especially looking forward to Seoho's showcase."

...Professor Celine?

#

...The recording for the album was now in its fourth session.

It was the final recording, and also the simplest one.

"Good job, everyone. I'm off first!"

"We have to go too. See you next time, Seoho."

After the piano quintet, Kang Jun-seo, Lee So-hyun, and Kim Young-tae, who had the next schedule, left the recording studio one by one, carrying their cases on their backs.

However, Shin Su-a, who should have been the first to rush out, was walking leisurely with her violin case in hand. She seemed to be deep in thought and looked up at me, puzzled.

"Only one more recording, right? The piece you played at the recital."

"Oh, right. Yes."

"Can I watch?"

Seeing Shin Su-a ask tentatively, I raised a small question mark.

Why?

Why did I see my own expression on her face?

More precisely, why did I see Brinner's expression?

-And.

Meanwhile, Shin Su-a hesitated.

"No, it's nothing. It's not a big deal..."

"Sure."

I smiled, not knowing why, but anyway.

It's not a difficult request.

"I perform better with more audience."

...

Shin Su-a, holding a coffee in both hands, hesitantly approached the sofa.

Olivia was sitting on the sofa, which could comfortably seat three people.

She looked at Shin Su-a and said softly,

"You can sit down."

"Ah... Oh, okay... thanks."

Shin Su-a, who had returned to the recording studio, was in a state of discomfort.

Now I realize I have a phobia. A phobia of English.

I can understand what people are saying thanks to my hard study, but it's like my mouth is full of glue and the words won't come out.

Olivia, unaware of her inner turmoil, started chatting with a welcoming face.

"I enjoyed your violin performance earlier."

"Ah...?"

"Before, I couldn't really appreciate it because there were so many people, but today, hearing it in a quartet, it really stood out."

"...Thanks."

Olivia's mouth opened frequently after that. She praised the pieces recorded today with a face that seemed ready to give a standing ovation, then praised Han Seoho for his impressive performance, and finally praised the other musicians for their support, leaving Shin Su-a flustered.

Just as the tangled English words in her head couldn't even form a proper sentence.

Han Seoho entered the recording studio with a can of drink and smiled at Shin Su-a and Olivia.

His smile was so welcome. Hurry up and play!

After a brief conversation with Han Gi-jun, who was sitting at the mixer, Han Seoho entered the booth.

Olivia crossed her arms and watched him take out the Guarneri from his case.

"Amazing, right?"

"Huh?"

"I mean Seoho. When he won the Tchaikovsky Competition, the media called him a great prodigy, but I didn't really have high expectations."

"Really...?"

"Yes. Due to my previous work, I've seen too many prodigies fall. Some were never meant to be called prodigies, and others, despite having talent, easily crumbled. It was all due to the greed of those around them. But after observing Seoho, even if it's been a short time, I think he's different."

Olivia's gaze shifted from Han Seoho to Han Gi-jun, then to the entire recording studio.

"Sorry, did I talk too much? I've been sitting here watching, so I was a bit bored."

Realizing this, Shin Su-a smiled awkwardly and nodded.

"...He seems amazing."

It was sincere.

Actually, when I first met Han Seoho.

He was a child who had given up on the only path I had, the Sejong Arts Center. He was a child who could still make music because his father was the representative, even if he ran away.

That narrow view was shattered that day.

I learned that leaving the Sejong Arts Center meant graduating, not giving up halfway. It was a plan of someone who knew exactly the path they needed to take, to find and learn their own music.

Now I know.

And it's honestly so...

"I'm envious."

At her last answer, Olivia raised her eyebrows. She glanced at Shin Su-a and said casually,

"You're a good mentor."

"...Mentor?"

"Your envious eyes look quite passionate. That means you're not just envious of Seoho but also inspired by him in many ways, right?"

"..."

The words, thrown out like a fortune teller, made many thoughts pop up in Shin Su-a's mind.

Seeing her serious face, Olivia laughed awkwardly this time, perhaps realizing she had overstepped.

"It's a professional habit. I'm not working here now, but..."

Her gaze returned to the booth.

"Oh, it's starting. A violin solo. I wonder what piece it is."

At her words, Shin Su-a also lifted her head, putting her thoughts aside for a moment.

Just as Han Seoho was about to draw his bow, the moment I saw him.

The deep gray tone, if expressed in color, was spread over the white canvas of silence.

#

I moved the bow passionately.

The notes that appeared in my mind like Morse code reminded me of myself when composing, and that self reminded me of my past self.

The sorrowful and intense cry of Brinner.

The tension of the dissonance as the phrases shattered,

The unpredictable melody, like the emotions of the performer, meets the pure structure of D minor, repeating tension and relaxation.

My fingers pressing the strings were inevitably numb, and the tips of my fingers holding the bow trembled.

These things were directly reflected in the performance.

It must be because I was thinking of my old parents again. The sad part is that my father's face is not as clear as my mother's.

He left too suddenly.

But as the piece progressed.

As I moved further into the past.

A small hope blossomed from the strings touched by the bow.

Like a mist, my father's face slowly began to appear.

...It was a gift from music.

Like the scent that lingers at the tip of my nose, bringing back old memories, the music, filled with the emotions of that time, slowly drew the face.

I couldn't help but feel a lump in my throat.

This time, it was a welcome feeling accompanied by longing.

I thought I would never see him again.

I didn't know it would be the last time.

Seeing the face that had been absent for so long, I broke down again.

Like a farewell, the piece was nearing its end.

"..."

When I finally finished the performance, I was busy catching my breath.

I raised my head a little later.

In my line of sight, I saw Olivia and Shin Su-a with dazed expressions.

And then, I saw my father, smiling faintly.

"..."

Contrary to my pent-up emotions, my father was smiling.

Was it the same smile my mother mentioned at the last recital?

Seeing it, I couldn't help but lift the corners of my mouth.

Why?

'Is it because the recording is finally over and I feel relieved?'

I don't know.

It's a strange thing.

...Where does this welcoming feeling come from?

#

The next day, in the early afternoon.

I arrived at Hwawon Arts High School.

It had been a week since I gave a lecture on "Past Composers and Practice Methods."

I was busy with the recording, but...

I didn't neglect the preparation for the lecture.

Maybe it's a sense of responsibility. Even though I've only given one class, mentoring has become quite important to me.

Anyway, I arrived at the school, met Mr. Kim Gi-hoon in the office as before, and learned that the classroom had changed.

I was a bit puzzled at first, but fortunately, it was for a good reason.

"The last mentoring session was so good that the students were talking about it. The word spread to the parents, so we received additional applications and increased the scale. It's just a lecture, just a lecture. The study time will be with the same students as before."

Listening to Mr. Kim Gi-hoon's explanation, I arrived at the audio-visual room.

Even through the half-open door, I could see the spacious interior.

Thinking about the students filling the room, I felt a bit excited.

The more people who listen to my story, the better.

Today, I plan to mix in some of my own story.

Literally, I'm going to tell a story. Brinner's story.

I took a small deep breath and opened the door to the audio-visual room, walked straight to the podium, and stood in front of the students.

And at that moment, I tilted my head in confusion.

The students were there, and...

Standing in a row at the back, with interested gazes...

...weren't they the teachers?