Chapter 35
Chapter 35
Beyond the glass, Aella stood inside the booth.
“Every night I’m running from the dawn.”
Every night, I run away from the dawn.
Her voice was trembling.
Intentional vibrato?
No.
The Crips boss is watching me. I’m scared...
She was genuinely shaking.
Her breathing sounded like that of someone being chased by something from behind, unable to look back.
“’Cause when the morning comes, you’ll be gone.”
Because when morning comes, you’ll be gone.
Park Geon’s earlier feedback.
—Kind of... like black smoke is chasing you from behind.
Although Aella had not understood the feedback, right now, she was being chased by something else black instead of black smoke.
Within the context of the song, that something was a dream.
A dream that, once it swallowed you, would never let you wake again.
The dream that had swallowed Little K.
Right. This is exactly the feeling I meant.
In the end, it matched his feedback perfectly.
Aella had been flawless in the first take.
But now, there was something unstable about her. She trembled, sounding as though she might collapse at any moment.
That instability intertwined with the theme of the song and settled like the final brick on top of the narrative built by Little K’s intro and Nova’s verse.
“Hold me in this dream, don’t let me breathe.”
Hold me until I cannot breathe, so I can stay inside this dream.
The beat dropped out.
An empty space.
Only Aella’s breathing entered the microphone.
Then again—
“Hold me in this dream...”
Let me remain inside this dream...
The final note stretched out for a long time, then melted away until only DJ Cabin’s piano remained.
Shit.
Big Joe shuddered.
What kind of direction did Shotgun give her this time?
The Aella he knew was not an artist who sang with that kind of desperation and urgency.
He had not heard the first take, but Shotgun had obviously given her some kind of direction afterward, and this second take had to be the result.
When this song is released...
It would turn the scene upside down.
The attention already heating up because of rumors of DJ Cabin’s return would explode, and Shotgun would be standing at the very center of that explosion.
The recording ended.
Clap. Clap. Clap...
Big Joe applauded slowly.
“This is insane. Completely insane.”
Aella’s eyes were red.
Big Joe assumed she had become deeply immersed in the song.
While Aella caught her breath and calmed herself, Big Joe approached Shotgun.
“I heard you’ve been learning pop vocal production and piano from DJ Cabin lately.”
Shotgun stiffly nodded.
“I’ll visit next time too.”
“...?!”
The BET Hip Hop Awards.
(Translator’s Note:BET Hip Hop Awards — An American awards show launched by Black Entertainment Television in 2006. It specifically recognizes achievement and influence in hip-hop, distinguishing it from the broader BET Awards.)
If the Grammys covered music as a whole, then BET was one of America’s major award ceremonies covering hip-hop, R&B, and Black culture more broadly.
And [DRIVE]...
had been nominated.
Best Track.
And Best Producer.
Usually, those categories were filled with producers who had created several hit songs over the course of a year, so being nominated on the strength of a single track was unusual.
Honestly, it did not feel real.
That feeling shattered the moment I arrived at HOOVER SOUND.
“SHOTGUUUUUUN!”
From the end of the hallway, Dustin charged toward me with both arms spread wide.
A former football player was running at me without brakes!
S-Somebody save me.
Jamal, who had been walking lazily behind him, said,
“Dustin, calm down.”
“How am I supposed to calm down? My homie got nominated for BET!”
Dustin started doing the Hammer dance with that refrigerator-sized body as though he had been nominated himself.
In other words, he repeatedly bent and straightened his knees and elbows at the same time.
Why is he so good at it?
The other Crips members nearby flattened themselves against the walls.
Otherwise, one of those monster fists might hit them.
“Yo.”
Jamal held out his fist.
“I’m fucking proud of you.”
“...”
Then he pressed his fist against mine.
Longer than usual.
And that evening—
“Yo, Shotgun!”
I met the Jay duo near Koreatown, and J-Rackz congratulated me.
“This is insane. Getting nominated for BET with just [DRIVE]!”
“I’m only nominated. Stop making such a big deal out of it.”
Of course, I had been completely unable to tell the Crips members earlier to stop making such a big deal out of it.
...Classic loser behavior!
“By the way, Shotgun. Remember that day?”
“What day?”
“...The day Dustin and Jamal threatened me over the publishing split.”
“Ah, at the café.”
J-Rackz looked away in embarrassment, but I completely understood how he felt.
“So hurry up and—”
“Yeah. Once I finish what I’m doing now, I want to work with you soon too, J-Rackz.”
“Shiiiit, Bro!”
J-Rackz gave me a light hug.
Beside him, Jay spoke.
“You know, you getting nominated for BET means a lot to me too.”
“Why?”
“If you can rise, then it means I can rise too. It means an Asian can be recognized in this scene.”
“...”
I guess it can be seen that way.
Then J-Rackz hugged both of us at the same time.
“You guys can do it, hahahaha!”
For reference, Jay had recently been learning rap from J-Rackz.
I had asked him to do it.
Since before I started properly working with Jay, I thought it would be good for him to strengthen his fundamentals.
The three of us put our arms around one another’s shoulders and spun in circles on the basketball court.
Have I ever done something like this with friends before?
I don’t know.
For now, just spin!
And the next day—
“...”
I was standing in front of the new building established by LK Records.
A remodeled five-story building.
There was even a sign hanging outside.
[LK RECORDS]
This is the company I’m giving legal advice to.
It was also close to HOOVER SOUND, and from now on, I would be regularly commuting here as legal counsel.
Creeeak—
When I opened the door and went inside, Lil D was sitting on a sofa, looking at his phone.
“Yo, congratulations on the BET nomination, you crazy bastard.”
“Congratulations to you too. It’s Best Track.”
“Nah. It was only possible because of you.”
Then Big Joe approached.
“How does it feel, Bro?”
“...?!”
Lil D’s eyes widened at the word Bro.
Come to think of it, ever since that day we visited Little K’s grave, Big Joe had occasionally called me Bro.
After looking around the entire building—
Lil D and I sat side by side in the lounge on the third floor.
Afternoon sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
It was a very peaceful scene.
...Even though this is actually a Crips gang label.
Lil D was fiddling with something.
When I looked over, I saw he was preparing an Instagram Live.
“Been a while, right?”
The viewer count immediately began climbing.
Once again, I felt just how popular Lil D was.
—Lil Dunk!
—Why don’t you go live much anymore?
—Are you preparing the album?
—Congratulations on the BET nomination!!!
—I listen to DRIVE every day
—❤️❤️❤️
“Thanks. And honestly, the BET nomination still doesn’t feel real to me either. I’ve only been active in the underground scene until now.”
—What’s behind you? New building?
—Don’t tell me that’s the LK Records office?
—Looks really nice lol
“Oh, this?”
Lil D raised the camera and showed the area around him.
Only up to the exact point where I would not appear.
“This is LK Records’ new building. It’s my first time visiting too, but I think I’ll be working here from now on as well.”
—Oh
—When’s the album coming out?
—I’m dying waiting
—Nothing since DRIVE
—I’m waiting every day until my neck is about to fall off
—Is it coming out this year?
“We’re working hard on the album right now. You can look forward to it. It’s going to be a killer album.”
Then Lil D gave a meaningful smile.
“But before that, something surprising is going to happen.”
He was probably talking about When I Wake Up, but since it was under embargo, he could not even mention the title.
—What is it?!
—Give us a hint
—Before the album?
—Collab? Feature?
“I can’t say yet. But seriously, I’ll just say this... it’s going to be something historic.”
While the chat went crazy with speculation—
“Are you asking if Shotgun’s beside me? Yeah. He is.”
Lil D tilted his chin toward me.
Apparently asking whether it was okay, but I shook my head.
“He says no. You guys know Shotgun. He keeps himself mysterious.”
—That’s disappointing
—I’m dying to know what his face looks like
—Then at least let us hear his voice!
—If he’s Asian, don’t they all look the same anyway?
Lil D saw the last comment and immediately frowned.
“You racist piece of shit. Get out.”
—ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
—That was satisfying
—Fucking racist
—Good good good
I remembered what Big Joe had said.
—I’ll visit next time too.
I stared at the grand piano in the living room and became certain.
He had given me an expensive piano, so he was coming to inspect how much I had improved!
At that moment, the switch flipped.
While the BET award ceremony approached, I began practicing piano like a madman.
My learning curve while the switch was on was abnormal.
On top of that, my synesthetic absolute pitch was emerging.
(Translator’s Note:Absolute pitch — The ability to identify or reproduce a musical note without first hearing a reference tone.)
Just practicing chords isn’t enough.
If I only pecked out a few chords in front of Big Joe, he might be disappointed.
For that reason, I did not limit myself to any genre.
My brain, now under emergency conditions, began absorbing everything it encountered.
Jazz, blues, gospel, R&B, pop.
Even classical music.
What I was currently listening to while following the sheet music was Chopin’s Étude No. 3.
(Translator’s Note:Chopin’s Étude Op. 10, No. 3 — A piano étude by Polish composer Frédéric Chopin, published as part of Op. 10 in the nineteenth century. It is widely known by later nicknames such as Tristesse and, in East Asian popular usage, The Song of Farewell.)
The slow melody soaked into my ears.
The left-hand arpeggio supported the melody in the right hand.
Then I placed my fingers on the keys.
“...”
Of course, no matter how absurdly efficient learning through fear of death might be, there was no way I could sound like a pianist after such a short time.
But at least...
...I think I’m a little better than when I first started.
That was how it felt.
Although I was evaluating myself, so I could not be certain.
One strange thing, however, was that every time I pressed the keys, something kept forming in my mind.
From dark colors to bright colors.
From narrow spaces to wide ones.
Every time I pressed a key, color spread outward.
As always, I finished practicing and lay down on my bed.
Then Lil D’s Instagram Live crossed my mind.
Suddenly, a sense of absurdity hit me.
Why am I anonymous?
At first, the reason had been clear.
If my involvement with a gang became known, my legal career would be over.
But...
Right now, I was working as a trainee lawyer.
In other words, I was properly following the process toward becoming an attorney.
It’s not like I’ve committed a crime.
There had even been comments in the live chat that day asking whether I was hiding my face because I was a criminal.
I’m already active anonymously through the ASD account. Do I really need two anonymous identities? Ah, but later, when I become a lawyer...
My thoughts tangled again.
Could this cause problems during the moral character review for the bar exam?
Would freedom of expression protect it?
Haaah. I don’t know. I should ask Professor Marshall for advice soon.
After all, when I visited him before, I had already told Professor Marshall that I was Shotgun.
Well...
He had looked like he had no idea who Shotgun was.
Before long, I fell asleep.
When the alarm woke me, it was ten in the morning.
Today was my first day reporting to LK Records as legal counsel.
Maybe because it was my first day, Big Joe had told me I only needed to arrive by one in the afternoon.
When I went downstairs, no one was home.
My parents were at Gohyangmi, and Yul was at school.
After showering, I took out a suit and put it on.
I stood in front of the wardrobe mirror.
Tied my necktie.
Buttoned my shirt.
I still had some time before work.
The grand piano in the living room gleamed in the afternoon sunlight.
Should I practice a little before I go?
I placed my fingers on the keys.
Today was a minimum day, so classes ended after the morning session.
Park Yul was walking down the street with her friends.
“Did you see Lil D’s live the other day?!”
“Of course! Lil D was so cute.”
“He’s not cute, he’s sexy!”
“You’re saying that again?”
Park Yul indifferently sucked on her straw when she suddenly noticed all her friends looking at her.
“...What? Why.”
It was obvious.
Because her brother was friends with Lil D, they were going to ask whether they could see him again.
“My brother’s busy lately. So no.”
“Why is he busy?”
“He started working as a lawyer.”
Park Yul said it in a subtly boastful tone.
Her friends immediately made a fuss.
“Wow, he’s already a lawyer?”
“That’s so cool...”
“Oho, our Yul wanted to brag about her cool older brother?!”
Park Yul looked away.
“Oh, whatever... Go back to what you were talking about. Lil D’s live.”
“Oh, right, Shotgun! Lil D said he was right beside him but wouldn’t show him! I really wanted to see him!”
“How long is he going to keep up this mysterious image?”
Suzy changed the subject.
“By the way, Emily, yours is next month, right? The piano competition.”
“Wow, aren’t you going to win again?”
Emily twisted a lock of hair around her finger.
“This time it’s connected to a recommendation for the Juilliard Pre-College summer program... so I’m kind of nervous.”
(Translator’s Note:Juilliard Pre-College — The preparatory music division of The Juilliard School in New York. Its institutional roots date to 1916, and it provides conservatory-level training for advanced young musicians.)
Emily had begun playing piano at five years old.
In middle school, she had won a California state youth competition.
The reason she was entering another competition now was to build her portfolio for an application to the Juilliard Pre-College summer program.
“You don’t have to worry. When I heard you play at the school festival last time, I seriously got goosebumps.”
“Exactly! You’re a piano genius!”
Her friends linked arms with Emily and encouraged her.
Meanwhile—
“Guys, we’re almost there.”
They had planned to hang out at Yul’s house after school today.
Jessica, Suzy, and Emily.
All three were in the same class, and they had been close since their first year of high school.
“Hurry up and give me some water. I’m thirsty.”
“Wait a second.”
They were standing in front of the front door when—
“...?”
A faint sound drifted from inside.
“...Huh?”
“What is that, piano?”
“I’ve heard this somewhere before.”
“Is it a Chopin nocturne?”
Emily, the piano major, corrected them.
“No. This is... Chopin’s Étude No. 3, Tristesse.”
“Wow, this piece is really beautiful...”
“Yul, did you have a piano at home?”
“Yeah, we got one recently, but it’s probably coming from the living room speakers. My mom likes classical music.”
There was no way this sorrowful melody was coming from her brother’s hands.
Yul had seen him play piano a few times, but he had definitely never been this good.
Then Emily’s expression changed.
“...That’s not a speaker.”
“What?”
“What I’m hearing is the strings themselves vibrating. I can feel the resonance spreading through the air.”
“Then...”
“Wait. Be quiet.”
Emily pressed her ear against the door.
Every time the sustain pedal was pressed and released, the resonance lengthened and then receded.
The way the emotional texture emerged from it was art.
Emily’s eyes slowly widened.
...Who is that?
Park Yul was just as curious.
She carefully opened the door.
The melody that had sounded muffled through the door suddenly poured over them in full.
And—
“...”
A man in a suit was playing the grand piano.
The living room was submerged in afternoon light.
Sunlight caught along the line of his jaw in profile.
“...”
“...”
“...”
“...”
All four of them opened their mouths at the same time.