A Musical Genius Who Plays Memories - Chapter 96
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 96. Story (3)
As soon as preschool ended, I visited Uncle Suyeol’s studio with Father.
When Father came home late last night, his expression was quite unpleasant.
It was on the same level as his expression when composing wasn’t going well.
Anyone could see that he was clearly thinking ‘I’m in a bad mood right now.’
It was even more pitiful to see him managing his expression when he looked at me.
Rather, I felt even more sorry.
‘I feel like I said something unnecessary.’
Every time I saw Father struggling beside me, I felt self-conscious thinking it was because of me.
So when Father was lying on the bed, I would run over and massage his shoulders.
If all that hard work resulted in a video with 14 views…
‘Father might cry.’
How sad would it be to work hard but receive no reward?
I felt like I would keep crying anyway.
If you’re a little kid, you can cry enough, mm-hmm.
Perhaps that’s why.
“Hehe.”
Father’s expression was very bright when he came to pick me up.
As soon as I saw that, I could tell that a story had arrived.
Good things are bound to happen if you wait.
And so we arrived at this moment.
“You’re here? Heeseong came too.”
“Our nephew is here!”
“Ugh, Aunt…! I can’t breathe!”
Aunt Sujin hugged me fiercely.
I always felt this, but all the women around me seemed to be full of energy.
Thanks to that, my energy was never left over each day.
Even now it was being drained in real time, making me feel like I might collapse.
“D-did a story come?”
I quickly changed the subject.
The reason we gathered like this was to read the story.
“Oh, right.”
“Let’s read it together in my room. That’s the only place anyway.”
We arrived at Uncle Suyeol’s room like that.
A small table and one desk.
With four people entering the neatly organized office-cum-studio, it felt a bit cramped.
Uncle Suyeol fiddled with the monitor here and there, then turned it so everyone could see.
“Now, let’s read it.”
Uncle Suyeol said.
Soon, letters began appearing all over the monitor.
It was as neat as looking at printed paper.
It seemed like he had organized it in advance for us to read easily.
-Sending a story.
The title of the submitted story was very neat.
The content of the writing was the same.
I found myself absorbed in the natural flow without any unnecessary parts.
‘But the content…’
I could feel that this was someone who had lived a difficult life just by looking.
I felt this intensely from the very beginning of the story.
‘Not opening up one’s inner thoughts to anyone…’
It was a human figure I had seen often somewhere.
And for some reason, I felt like I understood his inner thoughts very well.
A little time passed like that.
“…You’ve lived quite a hard life.”
I agreed with Father’s words.
The story sounded like a desperate cry.
It was also a painful scream uttered just before death.
His life was truly an essence that condensed all possible suffering.
‘It must have been… very difficult.’
I could imagine, even a little, the pain of the person who sent the story.
Since I had lived such a life too, I couldn’t ignore it.
I wanted to compose this first and only story I had received somehow.
If I had the chance, I would also like to meet and talk with them directly.
But there was a problem to solve before that.
“…Who’s going to compose it?”
Uncle Suyeol said.
As he said, there were two composers here.
Though it’s awkward for me to say, both people had the ability to create good songs.
But there was one strange thing.
‘Why are they looking at me so stickily…?’
Uncle Suyeol’s gaze was unusual.
Honey usually dripped from his eyes, but now it was, how should I put it…
Should I say all kinds of sweet things were pouring out?
In short, he was expecting something.
“I don’t have a feel for how to approach this.”
Aunt Sujin said something unexpected.
I thought Aunt would be able to do it easily.
‘Musical ideas are coming to me rapidly right now though.’
There could be differences between people, so that was possible.
But I didn’t understand why they kept glancing at me.
I turned my head slightly, hoping against hope.
Father was also looking at me.
‘Mm.’
I didn’t know what to do because the gazes pouring on me were burdensome, but there was no choice.
I should give them the answer they want.
“I’d like to try it…”
I spoke up.
And the other people also spoke.
“Really? Heeseong wanted to do it?”
“Yes, Aunt…”
“Since Heeseong will compose another wonderful song, Aunt should just play.”
“You have other work to do.”
“Tch.”
“So Heeseong will compose this story?”
Uncle Suyeol nodded at Father’s question.
I thought maybe the composer had already been decided, but anyway, the composer was determined.
But aside from the story, I was approaching this quite seriously.
‘Composing someone’s story is the same as composing that person’s life.’
Therefore, I had to approach it seriously, not as a joke.
Apart from my own enjoyment, I wanted to understand this story with all my heart and empathize deeply.
“Oh, right.”
When I was collecting my thoughts, Uncle Su-yeol opened his mouth.
Somehow I felt uneasy about the way he said that.
“Can you compose it within a week? Heeseong?”
One week.
Due to the nature of composition requiring more and more work as it progresses, it could be difficult.
Besides, I had to go to preschool too, so I didn’t have much free time.
“Wouldn’t it be hard for Heeseong?”
“I think it would work if I help him…”
The adults started discussing this and that.
It seemed they were getting a headache since a deadline had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
“Since it’s his first time, I thought it would be right to show it quickly.”
“That’s true, but… I don’t want to make things hard for Heeseong.”
The three people’s gazes turned toward me once again.
This time they held different emotions.
If it was expectation at first, now it was worry.
I was truly grateful for such feelings.
Because it was an emotion I had never experienced in the past.
‘No, that’s not right.’
There had been someone who worried about me in the past too.
I had just realized it too late.
I answered energetically.
“It’s okay. I can do it!”
No matter how difficult things got, I was planning to have fun with it.
I would turn this story, this one person’s tale, into the best song possible.
“Alright, but don’t overdo it. You understand?”
“If you need help, tell me anytime. Aunt will help you.”
“Father will help too.”
“Yes!”
I answered energetically.
Having people who would help me by my side was always a happy fact.
Now it was time to compose again.
***
Beep beep beep.
The sound of the door lock operating echoed in the quiet hallway.
“Sigh…”
Jeong Yeong-ho returned home today as well with weary steps to a place where no one welcomed him.
After drinking with Kim Eon-seung, he had spent a week searching everywhere trying to find work.
Whether it was part-time jobs or day labor, he tried to do everything he could.
But as if he was cursed, no one wanted to hire him.
It felt like he had been abandoned by the world.
He had some money saved up, so he didn’t have to worry about food for a few months, but what came after was the problem.
“Hah… Nothing’s working out.”
Tonight was another night where he’d have to drink and fall asleep.
As he was setting the dining table to roughly mix rice with canned tuna,
his laptop came into view.
“Did they check the story…?”
He suddenly became curious.
That video asking people to share their stories, which didn’t have many views or comments.
That channel that said they would make music from those stories.
Jeong Yeong-ho had followed Kim Eon-seung’s suggestion and hadn’t looked at it for a week.
He had been very busy.
It was easier to think about immediate ways to make a living rather than worry about stories and such.
‘Should I check it once?’
He opened his laptop with half expectation and half resignation.
His mailbox was the same as before.
In other words, there had been no contact whatsoever.
“Even advertisements are welcome now.”
His mailbox was full of advertisements.
Seeing this, Jeong Yeong-ho laughed weakly.
Now even laughter wouldn’t come out.
He was so drained that it was hard to even lift the corners of his mouth.
His expression crumbled, his mouth corners drooped, and eventually it felt like his body and mind would collapse too.
“I need to hold on…”
He muttered quietly.
He said this even though he had no reason to hold on.
Perhaps he had forgotten.
There must have been reasons to live life.
It seemed like he had completely forgotten them.
“What should I do…”
He couldn’t get a grasp on anything.
He didn’t know what to do.
Right now he just wanted to surrender himself to alcohol.
It felt like he couldn’t endure without getting drunk.
Ding-!
Then a clear chime sounded.
The sound that plays when an email arrives.
Whether it was an advertisement or work-related, he didn’t want to open his mailbox right now.
But due to habits ingrained from work, he unconsciously opened his mailbox.
“…Huh?”
There was an email.
– Hello, this is Argo Music Works. We have completed the song.
An unexpected email had arrived.
At the same time, Jeong Yeong-ho’s dead eyes began to shine.
***
On the way home after leaving Argo.
I looked at the paper in my hand.
It was the story that Uncle Su-yeol had printed for me.
I read and reread the densely written story.
‘This kind of life doesn’t seem easy.’
It really wasn’t easy.
A continuous life of being robbed and broken.
But not being able to confide this to anyone was, in a way, close to a terrible curse.
‘Did he trap himself?’
If not that, then perhaps someone’s words had strangled him.
What was certain was that whatever it was, I just needed to compose.
‘But I can’t do it ordinarily.’
As I had done so far, I was composing this person’s story, their tale, memories that could be painful.
The story was too heavy to approach with a light heart.
‘My song needs to be heavy too.’
I thought he would probably mainly use the heavy cello.
A violin quartet didn’t seem bad either.
Various musical ideas were coming to mind, but a concrete image wasn’t forming.
I closed my eyes and quietly began imagining each incident from the story one by one.
Every event as if I had experienced it myself.
Only then would composing become easier, I felt.
‘There are several things similar to what I’ve experienced.’
Perhaps that’s why.
It was so easy to imagine.
Every situation came to mind naturally.
I felt like I knew what they were thinking when they sent their story.
It was painful, but if they didn’t vomit this out, it felt like they would burst.
‘Was that how it was?’
Imagining the letter writer’s feelings, I too gradually fell deeper.
I was fired by someone.
From my lifelong workplace.
I had something stolen by someone.
My beloved lover.
I lost someone.
‘Ah…’
I could empathize.
I was so overwhelmed with emotion that tears seemed ready to pour out.
Instead, I squeezed my eyes shut and endured it.
The story was so sad that my heart ached.
I understood it so well that I couldn’t bear it without creating a song.
I wanted to offer him comfort.
I continued imagining like that.
“Snore…”
I ended up falling asleep.
Even in my dreams, I was still being robbed.
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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