Chapter 92

092. An Artist's Inspiration (6)

'Classical.'

That single word was etched into my ears like a medal.

Even though he didn't know my schedule, he respected my words.

I don't know if he was naturally that kind of person, or if my music convinced him...

Regardless, it resonated deeply.

"I'll continue to support you."

...After finishing his last words, Neil hurriedly left the waiting room. It was almost time for the main event, the opening of the exhibition.

Left alone in the waiting room, I spent a moment by myself.

I found myself humming a tune. It was just an impromptu melody, but after a few repeats, it took shape and became a theme worth calling a melody.

'It might soon be uploaded to SoundCloud.'

Meanwhile, the applause of the audience in response to Neil's speech echoed loudly. I got up from my seat and went outside.

People gathered in the center of the exhibition hall were moving towards the first section. The official viewing was about to begin. In the crowd, I spotted familiar faces. They seemed to have noticed me too and stopped to wait.

Kang Junsu, Shin Sua, Lee Sohyun, and Kim Yeongtae—four people. I smiled and walked over to them.

"Are you here?"

"It's been a while—!"

Kang Junsu stood next to me and put his arm on my shoulder. Of course, he was shorter than me, but that didn't bother him at all.

"Seoho, what do you call a student of a student?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"Hehe, I was wondering what to call Sua."

"Shut up."

Shin Sua narrowed her eyes and whispered a threat.

I teased her.

"I didn't teach you anything, did I?"

"But you did, right?"

Kang Junsu's smugness made me turn to Shin Sua. When our eyes met, she said softly,

"Well, it's true that I learned something."

Then she changed the topic by looking ahead.

"Anyway, it's definitely different from what I saw in the photos."

We had arrived at the first section.

Everyone's attention was focused on one spot.

It was the painting by Neil Hauser that I had seen for the first time at the Guggenheim Museum. It evoked the image of a sunrise.

What was different this time was not just the space. Low piano notes could be heard.

Arpeggios played in quick succession, with a violin melody draping over them like light.

"Wow, I was completely immersed in the painting while listening to the music."

"Me too. It felt like I was trapped in a scene where the sun was just rising."

The admiration of the audience, who had formed a semicircle, could be heard from all around.

My gaze naturally turned to Shin Sua.

The corners of her mouth were slightly curved.

And then,

"Mr. Composer."

Neil, who had disappeared somewhere, returned.

A journalist with a bulky camera on his shoulder was with him.

"Would you like to take a photo together? And did the violinist come as well?"

I pointed to Shin Sua in response to Neil's question.

"Yes, it's her."

"Nice to meet you. It was a really good performance."

"Ah, yes..."

"Is it okay to take a photo, Sua?"

"Uh, uh..."

Shin Sua, who looked flustered, stood next to me.

Neil also took his place as requested by the journalist.

As the three of us who created this space stood side by side, the flash went off.

#

As the day turned to evening and the sky, which had been glowing blue, turned dark.

Shin Sua sat in the back seat of a swaying bus, staring at her phone screen for a long time.

Her unfocused gaze, which would make anyone think she was daydreaming, was fixed on her image in the article.

And Neil Hauser and Han Seoho standing on either side. The main page of a portal site. Hundreds of comments...

To her, it was an unreal scene.

Although the article only mentioned "Shin Sua, who played the violin in Han Seoho's composition," that alone was enough to cause a stir among the people around her.

[Hey Sua, did you record with Han Seoho?]

[What an article. I was so surprised. Han Seoho! You made it!]

[The photo in the article is so good. Are people starting to recognize you now?]

[Why did you take a leave of absence when you had a full scholarship? You had a plan, didn't you?]

[Hey, Sua. How are you? It's been a while, right? You know, can I get Han Seoho's autograph...]

Not only the people around her, but also old friends she hadn't heard from in a long time, and seniors and classmates she had only met a few times in college, were contacting her.

"..."

Shin Sua leaned her head against the window.

She slowly pulled out her earphones and untangled the wires as if she were a grandmother unraveling thread. Then she put them in her ears and turned on the music.

[Brahms - Violin Sonata No. 1]

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sound wash over her.

Then Shin Sua brightened her phone screen again.

...I should thank him, shouldn't I?

'But...'

What should I say?

What should I write?

She stared at the chat window, her thoughts deepening.

[Did it go well?]

Wow, it sounds like a blind date. That's not right.

[It went smoothly.]

That sounds like something from a spy movie.

"What should I say..."

She stared at the screen for a long time, then suddenly started typing quickly.

[Last time, I said I would tell you what I thought after listening to your first performance... Actually, I thought you were a bit pretentious back then.]

She wrote down whatever came to mind.

Since she didn't intend to send it, there was no filter or structure.

[I was really looking down on you. I thought you only managed to stay in that position because you met your parents well, not because you could handle it...]

It was her true feelings.

She had been looking at him through colored glasses.

That's why she felt a bit uncomfortable.

A kind of inferiority complex.

'Why am I suddenly venting?'

If she continued, she might end up recounting the long history of misunderstandings, including the stage fright she thought she had and the sympathy she felt.

It was embarrassing to think about it again. Who was I feeling sorry for...

She deleted the message, which she obviously couldn't send. Still, it felt a bit cathartic, like the protagonist in the fairy tale who shouted "The king has donkey ears" in the reed field.

Shin Sua tapped the screen again.

She wrote just one line, hesitated for a moment, and then sent it.

Phew, it's done.

"I don't know."

She got off the bus, untied and retied her hair.

The phone rang just then.

'What, so soon?'

Shin Sua's eyes widened as she quickly checked the caller. Her tense expression relaxed.

"Hey, Suyeong. I might be a bit late. Are you hungry? Or can you wait a bit? I'll buy chicken on the way in. Yes, yes. Are you keeping the door locked?"

She hung up and chuckled.

Why was I so nervous?

She started walking slowly.

Streetlights cast their glow through the now dark sky.

The light and darkness were clearly delineated, as if marking the boundary between two different worlds.

She felt a surge of determination. She stepped on each circular patch of light on the ground.

"This time, it's thanks to Han Seoho, but next time..."

She muttered to herself, taking firm steps forward.

To achieve that, she needed to practice. Practice alone.

Although the situation had her drifting away, she needed to be ready to return at any time.

She didn't do tutoring to avoid a decline in her skills, and she only did performance gigs for the same reason.

And every night, she headed to the practice room.

But today felt different.

For the first time in a long time.

It wasn't that she had to go, but that she wanted to go to the practice room.

...Brahms' hopeful song was brightly coloring her surroundings.

#

[Shin Sua: Thank you.]

"..."

I have no idea what she's thanking me for.

So typical of Shin Sua.

Of course, I'm not so clueless that I would ask, "What for?"

[Me: Me too. Thanks to you, I was able to create the pieces I wanted.]

I sent the reply and dried my hair with a towel. Even now, I can't help but laugh.

...When I came out of the bathroom, my parents were talking about the exhibition.

"The exhibition was amazing. I could go every day."

"Can you explain it to me tomorrow? I don't know much about art."

"Me neither. But I didn't need to. I just stood there looking at the paintings, and the music naturally came through, making me think all sorts of things."

"Really?"

Then my father noticed me and greeted me.

"I heard the exhibition got a good response today? There were a lot of articles, right?"

"It seems to have been successful."

I shrugged, and my father chuckled.

"I plan to go with your mother tomorrow. Oh, by the way..."

My father rummaged through his bag, saying he had something to give me. A file came out in his hand.

"These are from SJ Entertainment. One is what you requested, and the other is about your album."

"Oh, I'll check it out."

I took the file and went straight to my room. I sat on the bed and checked the contents.

First, the content I had requested through Chairman Baek Hanguil appeared.

It was SJ Cultural Foundation's proposal to increase support programs for adult performers by the Cultural Foundation.

It brought back good memories of my time as an employee.

I chuckled and read it carefully.

Chairman Baek Hanguil asked if there were any changes to be made after reading it once, but I thought there was no need.

It wasn't just about ending with a grant. It provided opportunities for performers who lacked performance venues and solved other issues for those who wanted to focus solely on music.

The support was more detailed than I had imagined.

Although the selection criteria would likely be strict, I didn't think the four people I saw today would be rejected.

"I should mention it to them soon."

Thinking that would be enough, I moved on to the next item.

"And..."

When I flipped the proposal, another one appeared.

But this time, it was about me.

The title was 'Han Seoho Album Release Special Concert.'

Although it's been a while since the album was released, it still maintains the top spot on domestic and international classical charts, and the album sales are the highest among songs distributed by Royal Classic in nearly five years. So it would be more accurate to call it a 'Thank You Special Concert' rather than a release celebration.

'Looking at the date, I should start practicing soon...'

The conversation with Maestro Albert from SJ Entertainment must already be over.

Then I need to gather the performers again.

...When Albert comes.

What kind of expressions will they have?

#

<The New York Philharmonic Orchestra's Year-End Concert Resonates with 'Chorus'!>

<The Audience Cheers as if Beethoven Were Present...>

<A Century's Conductor. The Perfect Conducting of the Giant, Albert!>

Articles were pouring in.

The New York Philharmonic Orchestra and Albert, who had performed countless times, received a resounding success.

Of course, as a conductor, the question of how Beethoven would have viewed this performance still lingered.

Nevertheless, the 3,000-plus audience members who were seated there all stood and applauded, and their expressions were filled with awe, just like Beethoven's.

That was enough.

...This boy.

When I moved the mouse down, there were articles pouring in, not just about the concert.

<Exhibition in Korea, Neil Hauser's New Paintings Meet Han Seoho's Music>

<Classical World Stirred by Han Seoho, Deepening the Art of Rising Star Neil Hauser>

<Successful Fusion of Art and Art! Next Exhibition Tour Schedule in Korea?>

"I should start with this when I go to Korea."

Albert mumbled and made a note in his notebook. He adjusted his glasses, which had slipped down, and closed the notebook, pulling over a stack of sheet music.

A smile naturally spread across his lips.

<Family>

It was Han Seoho's piece.

And it was the sheet music sent by Han Seoho.

"Did you deliberately add such detailed annotations? Or is this your usual style?"

He muttered to himself and started reading the notes, not caring either way.

Thus, the conductor's study began.

It wasn't as daunting or doubtful as before.

If he got stuck during his study, he could always ask, as he had the contact information.