A Musical Genius Who Plays Memories - Chapter 98

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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 98. Please (2)

After dinner ended, I entered Father’s studio.

“Hup!”

I struggled to climb up the still-high chair for me and turned on the computer.

The piano that had been in my room was old and had broken down not long ago.

Since it was something we bought secondhand, I had expected it to break eventually, but I felt a bit bitter since it had become a dear friend.

‘He said he’d buy me a new one later…’

I felt a little excited about what kind of new piano would come into my room.

But for now, I put aside that anticipation.

Rustle.

I opened the notebook I had brought from my room.

My treasure number one, containing all the songs I had composed so far.

Today, a new song would be carved into this notebook as well.

And there was one more thing I had brought.

“What kind of feelings did they have when sending this story?”

I thought as I read the story that Uncle Sooyeol had printed for me.

Sadness, anger.

Of course, those emotions were mainly what I felt, but somehow I also sensed emptiness.

It was like looking back at a battlefield that had already passed.

A mountain swallowed by a giant fireball, or a village swept away by waves.

Some empty place left behind after disaster had passed might be the state of mind of the person who sent this story.

‘They seem to have become numb now.’

Rather than that, they seemed exhausted.

I could feel their heart – not that they didn’t want to do anything, but that they didn’t know what they should do.

So I just needed to express that feeling.

I put on Father’s large headset.

Ding-♪

A clean piano sound was heard.

Though not as good as an actual piano’s sound, it was still quite good quality.

I smiled slightly and began loosening up my hands.

‘How should I do this.’

While quickly playing do-re-mi, my mind was busy organizing my thoughts.

I knew the emotions I needed to express.

Emptiness, anger.

I would actively express these two emotions.

I was thinking of a suitable instrument.

“Huh? Cello?”

Suddenly I thought of the cello.

I had considered the cello before, but hadn’t thought about it too seriously.

But why was it that now?

My head was filled with thoughts of wanting to use the cello.

I had a strong feeling that I could express it well somehow.

“Let’s see… Ah, here it is!”

I clicked the mouse and found the cello.

Being able to play the profound tone of a cello with this small piano was an incredible blessing.

‘It won’t be as good as a real cello, but this should be enough.’

This was like sketching in a way.

Drawing while thinking ahead about what kind of feeling would be good to color with.

But with such high-quality cello sound, it seemed like I could release an album as is.

It was a moment when I strongly felt how much better the world had become.

Bum-♩

I lightly pressed a key.

Not the clear sound of a piano, but the heavy tone of a cello struck my ears.

It was a good resonance.

“Here…”

I placed the printed paper with the story on top of the keyboard.

Because I wanted to read the story while playing.

And I had an intuition that doing this would produce a good song.

– I’m a man who recently turned 40. And not long ago, I was abandoned by the company I had worked at for a long time.

I looked at that sentence intently.

Being abandoned by someone was an experience so sad it was heart-wrenching.

Especially if it was someone you trusted and followed.

‘Haha…’

I seemed to have lived quite a turbulent life myself.

With that sentiment, I gently pressed with my left hand.

The cello was the protagonist of this song.

I thought there was nothing better than the cello for expressing emptiness.

Low and long.

I slowly stretched the sound long and thin, telling of emotions that hadn’t ended.

Woom-♩

The change in sound was slow.

There was no dramatic change either.

It just moved forward slowly.

Crying so sadly, crying slowly.

Or the feelings of some prisoner trapped in a huge solitary cell.

That’s how I felt.

‘Being betrayed felt like that.’

I had a colleague too.

My precious colleague who composed music with me and played the violin.

When others could play both violin and piano simultaneously, I only handled the piano.

Because I had a strong desire to focus only on piano instead of spending time learning other instruments.

But I needed to play violin too.

‘Of all things, ‘that person’ wanted a song with violin in it.’

While I was wandering the streets like that, I happened to meet him.

Some man who was playing violin.

I loved that melody so much.

It seemed to be packed full of indescribable emotions.

It seemed like he was earnestly carving out emotions that warmed the heart, like love or friendship, and letting me hear them one by one.

I was captivated by the best violin performance possible and immediately recruited him.

That’s how I gained the best colleague.

‘But the world is cold by nature.’

I knew that all too well.

But when I actually experienced it directly, I learned what it meant to have your breath catch and your vision blur.

– I can’t grow if I stay with you. I want to make money.

That’s how he left me.

He had a family to support, and I knew he was doing music for money.

But I didn’t know he would abandon me and leave so readily.

At first, I was angry.

I resented that someone who would have collapsed on the street if not for me was abandoning me because he got a good offer.

It was miserable that he left me just because I had stumbled briefly.

Having lost a trusted colleague like that, I couldn’t do anything.

I tried somehow to compose, but nothing came to hand.

C-♪

The cello’s note continued at length.

Do Sol La

In the low range, the notes tumbled over each other, pressing down on one another.

The notes blurred together, creating a single chord.

An unstable and uncomfortable chord to hear.

But such unstable notes gathering together to create a single rhythm, a melody.

That was music.

So no matter how difficult things were, when I searched for notes that matched my heart, I could understand.

That music comforts people.

Like flint stones striking each other to make fire, high notes also lit fires in people’s hearts.

‘Low notes caress the heart.’

Or gently pat the back.

This was the charm of composition.

The direction I first thought of and the actual direction when composing were different from each other.

At first I thought of anger, but now it wasn’t like that at all.

I didn’t think of anger at all.

Rather, the empty feeling when abandoned was so enormous that I couldn’t ignore it.

Compared to that hollow emotion, anger was almost trivial.

Zing-♪

I made about 16 measures of the cello’s rhythm and changed instruments.

‘Originally I was going to use only the cello, but…!’

That would seem too lonely.

I knew that instruments played alone are terribly lonely.

Because in the past, I played alone every day.

So the instrument I would play this time was the violin.

The violin had higher notes compared to the cello.

In a way, it was an instrument that held bad memories for me, but those memories couldn’t torment me.

‘Because now I’m making better memories with it.’

I was listening to the sound of an instrument that had become present joy instead of past pain.

Imagining Grandfather Manbok and Garam’s performance, I quietly pressed the keys.

Ziiing-♬

It was a pleasant resonance.

The violin cast over the cello that was slowly backstroking in the low notes.

The cello was past pain.

It was the desperate and mournful plea of one who had been betrayed.

The violin began to fall into contemplation about what it should express.

“Hmmmm.”

I deliberately made an exaggerated sound.

I thought about how to create a good melody.

More precisely, I began to worry about what story to tell.

I started reading the story again.

– There was someone I loved. We promised new days together, and I came to know what happiness was.

I had no lover.

I didn’t need one, and I didn’t particularly think about making one.

But seeing Friend’s family, I did feel secretly envious.

‘Is it because I live alone? It always seemed cold.’

But I did have someone I loved, though not a lover.

Mother’s embrace was always warm.

I always longed for that embrace.

If I had known as a child that we would part and I could never be held again.

I would have hugged even tighter in that last moment.

“Hah…”

I let out a sigh without realizing it.

It was already the past.

A past that could never be returned to.

This person probably felt the same way.

– Love is truly cunning. The feeling of having your beloved stolen by your closest friend is indescribable.

I thought I understood that feeling.

The feeling of having someone you love taken away.

Wanting to hold their hand but unable to, wanting to embrace them but unable to.

The pain of pouring salt water on a knife wound and searing it with fire.

If you endured that pain a hundred times, it would probably be somewhat similar.

What was certain was that this pain was beyond help.

Zing-♬

I moved my fingers lightly.

Great force wasn’t needed.

Small force.

Now the pain was great, so I rather lessened it.

I breathed evenly and continued moving my hands.

‘Here, a little more gently.’

The cello was telling of a heavy and empty heart.

Above it, the violin was lightly speaking of pain.

Like the person who sent the story.

Writing down their story matter-of-factly, saying this kind of thing happened to me.

Ziiing-♪

But inside, it wouldn’t be like that at all.

The letter writer’s heart was probably like digging a huge pit and filling it with filth and garbage.

Because that’s how I was.

So there was a need to ease the pain a little.

– I don’t know why I couldn’t confide in others.

That sentence was written at the end of the story.

I thought I understood the reason somewhat.

‘They probably don’t want to tell others much. It feels like giving them your burden.’

Pain was shackles.

It was no different from putting the countless shackles on your own ankles onto others’ ankles.

But how should I put it…

I didn’t think that way.

‘Telling others isn’t putting shackles on them.’

It was rather no different from removing the shackles.

The reason I knew this was all thanks to Friend.

He always told me his worries.

‘He asked me about childcare that I knew nothing about.’

He told me worries that I absolutely couldn’t do anything about.

So it was funny, but on the other hand, I was even grateful.

It felt like he was thinking of me.

I too once didn’t tell anyone what was inside me.

But seeing Friend, I also gradually changed my thinking.

‘Was it from that moment? When I started fighting against ‘That Person’.’

Friend helped me, and I also helped Friend.

Until the day I died, Friend stayed by my side.

When everyone in the world took away what I had, Friend was the only person who protected me.

“I hope this song can bring you comfort.”

The comfort I received from Friend.

I hoped this person could feel it too.

***

A week passed like that.

“Done! Finished!”

I cheered while looking at the notebook containing the song I had completed in a week.

Now all I had to do was let others hear it and send it to the person who submitted the story.

‘I want to have a conversation.’

I wanted to talk about what they felt after listening to the music.

Very seriously.

As one person to another.

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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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