Chapter 283: Stranger (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 283: Stranger (1)
Im Chan-yeong pulled the car up to the entrance of a sprawling apartment complex with a long, prestigious name. Lee Cheong-hyeon gave a bright smile, thanked him, and closed the car door.
Cheong-hyeon looked up at the forest of buildings, each easily over thirty stories high. The moment he stepped through the entrance, a sense of suffocation washed over him.
He tried to take a deep breath, but the tightness in his chest wouldn't budge. Every step felt heavy. It was as if the soles of his shoes were sticking to a giant glue trap.
However, his building was far too close to the entrance to stall for time, and being an expensive complex, the elevator was incredibly fast.
"I'm home."
Cheong-hyeon’s memory was far too good for him to ever forget the passcode.
As far as he could remember, the layout and the items in this house hadn't changed since the day they first moved in.
Every choice must be made with deliberation from the start. Once decided, it stays that way. Save time by not sparing money, and use that time for more worthwhile pursuits.
By "worthwhile pursuits," they meant achieving something through competition—proving one's capabilities to the world.
This implicit rule had never changed. If anything, it had only grown more rigid.
Cheong-hyeon toyed with a frame hanging on the wall. It held certificates of merit in various languages, all perfectly aligned.
In the small glass cabinet next to it, his trophies from various piano competitions were on display.
The record of Cheong-hyeon’s life in this house ended at that period.
Not that I expected anything else.
Cheong-hyeon imagined tucking the small trophy he’d received from a music broadcast between those classical trophies in the glass case. The mere thought was so absurd it made him let out a hollow laugh.
"What are you doing?"
Someone picked a fight with him before he could even put down his bag.
"…Hey."
"Why are you here?"
"I'm on break."
Cheong-hyeon set his bag down, his back still turned to his younger brother.
"I see you still crawl back here just because it’s 'home.'"
The mockery was just as unchanging as the furniture and the awards.
Why is this brat home at this hour? He should be at some academy doing that studying he loves so much.
"Are you still running around playing idol?"
The sneering voice loitered in front of the room.
Cheong-hyeon didn't respond. It was easier that way.
"Pathetic bastard."
After hurling the harsh words, the footsteps headed toward the kitchen. Cheong-hyeon ran a hand through his hair.
Ah.
His vision was filled with books packed tightly into shelves that reached the ceiling. There was nothing in this room that Cheong-hyeon actually liked.
I want to go home.
To Cheong-hyeon, at least, this place was not home.
They say everyone gets three big opportunities in life.
When Cheong-hyeon was very young, some elder in the family had stroked his head and said:
"Cheong-hyeon, you’ve already received your first opportunity. You were born to the right parents."
Certainly, Cheong-hyeon grew up without ever knowing hardship. Before he could even feel a need for something, he already had everything. If there was one thing Cheong-hyeon lacked, it was the experience of "lacking" anything at all.
Cheong-hyeon was also brilliant. When he was given a problem to solve, he received praise; he liked that feeling, so he kept solving them, which led to even more problems being given to him.
Cheong-hyeon didn't mind. Solving problems was fun. Studying was enjoyable.
However, the academic fields he was allowed to reach for were limited. This became clear once he realized how many different "types of knowledge" actually existed.
Applied mathematics, numerology, physics, chemistry, and economics were subjects he was encouraged to master.
Astronomy, literature, marine biology, and library and information science were forbidden.
He still remembered the answer he received when he asked what the difference was.
"Can you win a Nobel Prize doing things like that? Literature is a one-way ticket to starvation."
When an acquaintance asked if he might be interested in those fields, his mother had answered nonchalantly.
"Cheong-hyeon isn't the type to be interested in things like that. He’s a natural-born STEM student through and through."
The conversation ended there.
The next morning, Cheong-hyeon realized that several books that had been on his shelf were gone.
Since "respectable people" needed hobbies to cultivate a high quality of life, Cheong-hyeon’s family went to a concert together for the first time in a long while.
His mother smiled, saying Cheong-hyeon probably wouldn't remember because he had been so young the last time they came.
"Mom, I remember everything."
At his older brother's words, his mother praised him, asking how he could possibly remember that. Back then, Cheong-hyeon’s siblings were starved for praise.
"I remember too."
That included Cheong-hyeon.
His parents dismissed his words as the lie of a child wanting attention. They gave a perfunctory response, saying, "Our Cheong-hyeon is amazing too."
And when the concert ended...
"Dad."
"Yes?"
"Does the performance always change when the conductor changes?"
Cheong-hyeon asked the question that had been bugging him throughout the hours-long concert.
"There’s a framework called a score, so why does the tone change just because the conductor changes? Does a conductor do more than just keep the beat? Do they interpret it too?"
"Cheong-hyeon, why are you curious about that?"
His father asked as he set Cheong-hyeon down from his arms.
Cheong-hyeon’s answer was simple.
"The performers are almost the same, but the way they use dynamics is different."
Cheong-hyeon’s parents checked to see if they had truly seen a performance by the same orchestra a few years ago.
The two of them had always wanted to enjoy the finest cultural life. Naturally, the orchestra performing then and now was the same.
As they searched for the orchestra, they came across several articles.
[20XX Vienna Philharmonic Korea Tour… Conducted by Stein Rbert]
[Stein Rbert Retires After Final UK Performance]
[20XX Vienna Philharmonic Finally Arrives in Korea with New Conductor…]
For once, they were genuinely taken aback.
They knew their child was bright, but so was his older brother.
However, to dismiss it as him just being "a bit smart" was impossible, given that Cheong-hyeon was only nine years old.
When Cheong-hyeon turned eleven and threw a fit about wanting to do music, the fact that they eventually gave him their reluctant permission was largely due to this incident.
Lee Su-hun, the eldest son of the Lee family, was brilliant. He followed the standard elite course, and in middle school, he was evaluated as being able to enter a gifted high school without difficulty.
In fact, he entered a gifted high school with flying colors and maintained excellent grades there as well.
Cheong-hyeon, the second son, had shown such early promise that despite facing fierce opposition, he was allowed to take the detour into piano—thanks in part to Su-hun, who had no interest in anything but studying.
Perhaps it was because the intelligence of the third son, Lee Gang-myeong, fell slightly short of his parents' expectations?
Even though Gang-myeong was also excellent and never slacked in his efforts, Cheong-hyeon was forced to maintain both his music and his studies.
The three of them were brothers, yet their feelings for one another were far from positive; they were like strangers who were all being asked to do the exact same thing.
And so, the three grew up without ever learning how to care for one another.
Around that time, in a place beyond his parents' sight, a new wind began to blow for Cheong-hyeon.
"I'm Kang Gi-yeon, a Korean dance major."
A classmate he didn't know knocked on his classroom door, offering an option he had never even imagined.
"Are you interested in becoming an idol?"
This became the moment the very foundation of Cheong-hyeon’s world began to shake.
Cheong-hyeon was so stunned he had to ask if the boy was truly looking for him.
"Are you asking me?"
"Aren't you Lee Cheong-hyeon? You are."
"How do you know me?"
"I saw your recital."
Kang Gi-yeon, who said he’d seen the annual school recital, only had time to hand over his phone number before heading back to his own class because the break was short.
Me: [I'm not a composition major.]
Kang Gi-yeon (Korean Dance): [I know.]
Me: [Then why did you ask if I wanted to be an idol?]
[Are you a trainee or something?]
Kang Gi-yeon (Korean Dance): [I am a trainee.]
[Is it rude to suggest something else to someone who already has a major?]
[Sorry. My major and my career path are different, so I thought it might be okay for others too.]
Me: [It's not that.]
[I was just curious because people don't usually ask.]
No one had ever asked Cheong-hyeon what he wanted to do.
In Cheong-hyeon’s world, there were only two options: "Do it" and "Don't do it."
Kang Gi-yeon (Korean Dance): [I asked because you got the most bouquets at the recital.]
Me: [What?]
Not because his "playing was good," but simply because he got the most flowers?
Just as his brief spark of interest was about to fade, Gi-yeon’s reply arrived.
Kang Gi-yeon (Korean Dance): [It means you have a lot of friends.]
[Being loved by others is a talent.]
Cheong-hyeon stared blankly at the screen.
Kang Gi-yeon (Korean Dance): [I don't have much expertise, so I don't know exactly how well you play the piano.]
[But if you performed as a representative, it means you're the best in our grade.]
[I figured if you're someone who can work that hard, you could do anything.]
[From what I hear, you'd be successful in that field too.]
[I just wanted to at least try asking, so I hope you don't take it the wrong way.]
Gi-yeon said he asked even though he expected to be rejected. Because he believed Cheong-hyeon would be good at it.
He believed in him, in a way no one in his family ever had.
A flurry of thoughts crossed his mind.
Finding Kang Gi-yeon in the Korean dance department wasn't hard.
In fact, it was easy. There were almost no boys in the Korean dance classes.
"Why?"
Gi-yeon looked at Cheong-hyeon with a lukewarm expression when he called him over.
"What do you do after school?"
"I go to the agency and practice."
"No, I mean for a hobby."
Cheong-hyeon, who had already changed his path once, needed certainty. Certainty that it was okay to walk a different path again. Because he felt like he had only ever changed his mind without actually achieving anything.
So, for a few days, Cheong-hyeon followed Gi-yeon around. He went to a manga cafe for the first time, and under the guise of a field trip, he visited an agency smaller than a single research complex at the institute where his mother was the vice director.
During lunch breaks, they watched videos of people dancing on the streets.
"So, you joined UA because you saw this person?"
"Yeah."
"Then are you going to debut with them?"
"I'm just hoping that's the case."
Gi-yeon turned off his phone and stood up. His thin wrists looked fragile as he picked up a soda can.
Why would someone choose to wait for an uncertain debut instead of a competition they could win on their own merit—all while not being able to eat what they wanted and dancing day and night?
"Why do you want to be an idol?"
Cheong-hyeon asked, looking up at Gi-yeon.
Gi-yeon answered.
"Does there have to be a reason? I'm doing it because I want to."
Cheong-hyeon thought about it. Was the piano truly the destination of the music he wanted to make?
And then he finally remembered. The piano had been a compromise between him and his family.
In a way, Kang Gi-yeon had relit the fuse of Cheong-hyeon’s life.
Cheong-hyeon believed this was the second opportunity of his life. So, for the first time, he tried rebelling. He used every means and method to persuade them.
As the old saying goes, no parent can win against a child who goes on a hunger strike, refuses to go to school, and cries and screams every day.
In exchange, Cheong-hyeon ceased to be a member of this household.
To a family for whom the gaze of others was as important as life itself, Cheong-hyeon’s deviation was unforgivable.
Conversely, appearing as a "normal family" to others was also important.
Because of that, Cheong-hyeon couldn't fully distance himself from the house either. It was a cruel irony.