Chapter 158
Chapter 158
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 159
Chapter Title: Mark Miller & YUIN
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Mark Miller's official channel, along with the JOP and SSHIN official channels, each uploaded a short teaser video accompanied by the phrase above.
Posters featuring that phrase against a black background also went up on their SNS.
Mark Miller and Yuin.
With an age gap nearing 100 years, the two seemed utterly mismatched.
But any die-hard fan who knew Yuin better than anyone would have seen this collaboration coming.
-Isn't this the Mark Miller I think it is?
-Jazz's living legend teaming up with jazz's idol for a joint performance.
-Kuh, look at our Yuin honoring her roots.
-Why would Yuin honor her roots? What's her connection to Mark Miller?
-Yuin started out with jazz. And her grandma was a famous jazz pianist.
-Yuin's absolute favorite thing is playing jazz versions of her own songs or others' on the piano.
-Even in live streams, when there's nothing going on, she'll play free jazz for hours.
-Mark Miller's a surprise though. Feels like he hasn't been active in ages.
-I didn't even know he was still alive.
-Who's Mark Miller?
-Go search him on YouTube and you'll recognize at least two of his songs right away lol.
-His peak was in the '70s, but people still listen to those tracks.
-Fr, the living legend of jazz.
The promotions on YouTube and SNS clearly announced a joint stage for the two.
Some called it unexpected, while others were thrilled.
Amid all that, Yeonwoo was enjoying leisurely days at Mark Miller's house in Montana.
In stark contrast, Eric Miller, his company, and JOP were working frantically to prepare his final stage.
They had to hurry and set everything up as quickly as possible.
Mark Miller's dementia could worsen at any moment.
Right now, he could still move a little, follow the daily routines etched into his body, and even sing along when he heard music.
But it could suddenly deteriorate, leaving him unable even to do that.
They had no choice but to rush.
For starters, the performance was set for Carnegie Hall in New York, the place most familiar to him.
Carnegie Hall, having heard the situation in secret, adjusted their schedule and cleared out the Isaac Stern Auditorium, their flagship venue, for his show.
With only about 2,800 seats, Carnegie Hall's capacity was far smaller than demand, but they arranged a YouTube live stream and negotiated with NBW for a special one-hour slot to broadcast Mark Miller's stage.
JOP was a bit thrown off. Things were scaling up bigger than they'd imagined.
But Eric Miller wanted his grandfather's final stage to be grander and more spectacular than ever.
Carnegie Hall. A YouTube live on a channel with tens of millions of subscribers. A special broadcast on NBW.
Surely this was fitting for the swan song of the great singer Mark Miller.
* * *
"Mr. Miller, Yuin, time for lunch."
The chef and butler hired for Mark Miller's house brought food into the log cabin.
"Thank you."
Yeonwoo gave them a polite bow.
The butler and chef smiled at his adorable gesture.
"You're welcome. Enjoy."
Yeonwoo nodded and eyed the food they'd brought.
Mark Miller's lunch.
For decades, Mark Miller had eaten the exact same breakfast and lunch every day.
Breakfast was orange juice, one piece of toast, and scrambled eggs.
Lunch was mashed potatoes, chicken noodle soup, crackers, and coffee.
"Grandpa Mark, enjoy your meal."
Yeonwoo said that, then looked at the food set before him.
A palm-sized tenderloin steak, cabbage kimchi, rice, and seaweed soup.
Yeonwoo's meals changed every day.
Truth be told, he couldn't comprehend Mark Miller's diet.
How had he survived for decades on such sparse breakfasts and lunches?
He couldn't wrap his head around it.
But he didn't have to understand—just respect it.
The people here respected him too, always asking carefully if he'd prefer rice or bread, Korean food or not.
"What are Grandma and Dad having?"
"The same menu as you."
Yeonwoo nodded at the butler's words.
Why wasn't Yeonwoo eating with his dad and grandma here?
It was because of Mark Miller right in front of them.
Mark Miller was obsessed with Yeonwoo. From around 11 a.m. until just before sunset at 6 p.m., if Yeonwoo wasn't by his side, he'd start looking for him.
Leaving briefly was fine, but stepping away for mealtime would set him off searching and reacting strongly.
It worried Yeonwoo what would happen when they eventually had to leave, but for now, to avoid stimulating his dementia ahead of the final stage, he stayed close.
Only after watching Yeonwoo eat did Mark Miller begin his own meal, with the butler's help.
After lunch, Yeonwoo resumed playing.
Even in his memory-lost state, Mark Miller seemed to sense his final stage approaching, pouring his passion into song alongside Yeonwoo's performance.
* * *
In the midst of it all, the date for their stage was set.
October 30th.
Promotion kicked off in earnest to match.
There had been debate on whether to hide Mark Miller's dementia, but given its unpredictability, they decided to announce it upfront.
Before ticketing began, all related media outlets released teaser footage of the two.
Clips showed Mark Miller, mobility impaired by dementia and unresponsive to all music, suddenly singing along to Yeonwoo's piano.
America went wild.
-Wow, dementia...
-Now I get why he stopped performing.
-Truly heartbreaking.
-My grandpa and grandma are Mark Miller fans, and they're crying over the news.
-God is cruel. How could he do this to someone like that...
-But it's amazing how he reacts to Yuin's piano.
-There's definitely something special about Yeonwoo's piano.
-Honestly, is there any jazz pianist today who could beat that 8-year-old kid?
-Yuin's on another level. Can't judge her by age.
-But what if dementia flares up on stage and he can't sing?
-Wouldn't that be a waste of money?
-Ticketing's first-come-first-served anyway, and it's free. Talking money is gross.
-This stage is for those who respect and admire Mark Miller. Even if he messes up, we honor it.
-Just sharing a legend's finale is an honor.
There were some negative reactions, but most understood his condition and created a positive atmosphere.
The hastily prepared stage arrived swiftly.
Carnegie Hall.
A venue of history and tradition, the holy grail for singers—countless dreamed of standing there once.
But for Mark Miller, it was more familiar than anywhere.
Performing here was routine for him.
The hall staff had even come to escort him personally.
Now, after decades, he returned to Carnegie Hall.
Yet he didn't recognize the place until entering the waiting room.
He just stared blankly at the ceiling.
Broadcast crews and Carnegie Hall staff watching him couldn't hide their pity.
Gone was the legend with flawless vocals, composition skills, stage presence, and impeccable personal life—the man worthy of greatness and respect.
"Will the stage even be possible?"
The PD in charge of the special broadcast *Mark Miller’s Curtain Call for a Legend* asked worriedly.
Eric Miller, who had taken on the role of his grandfather's manager, shrugged.
"It's uncertain. At home, he always sang along—humming or belting it out—to Yuin's playing. But the environment's different now. Still, his condition's good today. He usually doesn't respond at all, but he's said 'OK' and 'yes' several times."
"Hmm..."
Was that a good sign?
The PD let out a worried hum.
Meanwhile, with help, Mark Miller donned the suit he always wore on stage.
He disliked tuxedos, preferring a simple black or gray suit with the top shirt button undone and no tie.
They spritzed him with English Leather by Dana, the cologne he always wore for performances.
A white pocket square—also used as a handkerchief, one of his favorites—went into his breast pocket.
His wife had embroidered it herself with the words, *May luck always grace my beloved Mark Miller's stage*.
Now he looked exactly as he did in his prime.
To jog his memory or make him think he was back in his active days, Yeonwoo dressed like a child from that era too.
Short-sleeved shirt, vest, shorts, knee socks, and leather loafers.
"You still look cute like that."
"Really? I feel awkward."
Yeonwoo scratched his head at his grandma's praise, then glanced at Mark Miller.
Mark Miller still stared into space.
"I hope it'll be okay."
Another worried voice came from nearby.
"Yeonwoo, everyone's so concerned."
His grandma spoke to him anxiously too.
Yeonwoo shrugged.
"It's fine. It'll go well."
He wasn't overly worried.
Around him, his ever-present alter ego from those days and the blue fairy shone brighter than ever.
As if they'd been waiting to ascend Carnegie Hall's stage with him.
Just seeing them alive and glowing meant Mark Miller would pull it off.
"Hey, Miller!! What are you doing here? Time to hit the stage!"
It was then.
A man's voice rang out.
An elderly black man, burly and robust despite his age.
None other than Otis Jackson, Mark Miller's final manager and partner through his glory days.
Back then, in his twenties and full of fire, he too had aged with time.
But that booming, spirited voice remained unchanged.
"Miller!! Get up, I said!! Let's go!! The fans are waiting— you gonna keep them hanging?"
It was then.
Whether from the man's urgent tone or mentioning the fans, Mark Miller's eyes suddenly sparkled.
"Y... Yeah... gotta go...."
Saying that, Mark Miller went through his pre-stage routine: checking the pocket square at his chest, smoothing his hair with his fingertips, then looking for a mirror.
Otis Jackson held one right up, as if waiting.
"G... Good."
His routine and self-check complete.
The man invincible on stage was ready for launch.