5 - Snow Forecast (2)
5 - Snow Forecast (2)
5.
Suyeon was the kind of student every teacher dreams of teaching.
First of all, she participated in every lesson with incredible passion. If she didn’t understand something, she asked immediately. Not only that—if you taught her one thing, she understood five. Teaching her was genuinely exciting.
So this… is what teachers feel when they teach a genius?
As our lessons continued, Suyeon gradually began to take a real interest in becoming a singer. Before, it had only been a vague dream. Now, she was starting to think seriously about making it happen.
“Oppa.”
“Yeah?”
“How do you get into Seolwon Arts High?”
I stared at her in surprise. I never expected her to bring up Seolwon Arts High first.
“Why? Do you want to go there?”
“No, just… curious.”
She tried to brush it off. That made me feel a little sad. She could afford to be more ambitious.
I smiled gently. “It’s fine. If it’s you, you can definitely pass. You could even get a scholarship.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Suyeon smiled shyly. She was so cute that I lightly flicked her forehead. She flailed her hands in protest, saying, “Stop!”
I’d been worrying about how to get her into Seolwon Arts High—and now she’d brought it up herself. Perfect.
From that point on, I added one more element to her lessons: preparation for the Seolwon Arts High practical exam. Honestly, she could pass even now, but she was anxious, so I helped her prepare thoroughly.
Of course, I wasn’t only teaching Suyeon.
Every day, I composed. I had already finished writing most of the songs I’d made in my past life, and now I was arranging them. Once a week, I went to the studio and took guitar lessons from Won Seongmin. On weekends, I taught Suyeon music for two hours a day. Every two weeks, I recorded at the studio and received feedback from Seongmin.
Living on such a strict routine, graduation day arrived before I realized it.
“This is uncomfortable.”
Wearing my school uniform again after so long felt awful. And I’d have to wear this for three more years?
I sighed.
But there was something even more sigh-worthy. The entrance ceremony for Seolwon Arts High was just around the corner. How did time pass so fast?
“I can’t believe my son is going to high school next month. Time really flies, huh?”
“Yeah.”
I nodded at Mom’s words as we sat through the graduation ceremony.
The ceremony itself was painfully boring. The principal’s endless speech, songs from the juniors, greetings from teachers—then finally, photos with friends and teachers.
Honestly, I just wanted to go home, but Mom didn’t seem to be in any hurry. It wasn’t like I stayed close to any of these friends in the end, so why did she insist on taking so many photos? I was too old to enjoy middle-school sentimentality anymore.
“Oppa is graduating already…”
Suyeon pouted beside me.
We’d gone to the same elementary and middle schools, but our high schools would be different. I was going to Seolwon Arts High, while she would attend a regular high school.
“Are you sad?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s fine. We’ll go to the same school again starting next year.”
But this life is different. This time, Suyeon will go to Seolwon Arts High too.
At my words, she smiled and nodded. Mom looked a little surprised.
“Suyeon, are you thinking about going to Seolwon Arts High as well?”
“…Not for sure, but… I’m considering it.”
She said it in a small voice, like a timid animal.
Mom smiled warmly. “That’s fine, honey. If you want to, you should do it. Then our family will have two singers!”
She said it cheerfully on purpose.
Suyeon smiled. I watched quietly.
She spoke lightly, but I knew Mom was already worrying deep inside. As I’ve said before, Seolwon Arts High is expensive. Tuition and fees cost a lot, and for a single-parent household like ours, it’s extremely difficult.
That’s why I have to get a scholarship. And although it isn’t guaranteed, Suyeon also has a very high chance of getting one. Seolwon is famous for pouring scholarships into talented students.
I made Mom suffer—maybe even more than Suyeon did. She died because of me. So in this life, I want to repay her.
“Don’t worry,” I said suddenly. “I won’t be a burden, Mom.”
Mom smiled softly and patted my head. “When it’s for my son and daughter, I never think of it as a burden.”
I shut my mouth tightly. My chest felt tight.
In my past life, I only made her suffer, and even now, I’m relying on her again. Seolwon tuition, my allowance—everything is because of her.
I looked at her rough hands, worn down by years of work, and clenched my fist.
Everything she gave up for me—I’ll repay it all with my own hands.
§ § §
There are two main ways to get a scholarship at Seolwon Arts High.
The first is high exam scores. But it isn’t enough to ace the practical exam—you also need strong written exam results. The written test is notoriously difficult, almost on the level of a foreign-language high school exam. No matter how much I study, I doubt I can score high enough, so I discarded that option early on.
The second method is earning an overwhelming score on the practical exam and receiving a teacher’s recommendation. That’s what I’m aiming for.
To do that, I need to prepare now.
Receiving a recommendation is incredibly difficult. You have to make such a powerful impression that the teachers have no choice but to select you. And it’s even harder to stand out in composition, where I’ll be competing against geniuses from all over the country.
That’s why I spend my days composing and arranging.
Still, it isn’t impossible—because I have a weapon only I possess: knowledge of the future.
I don’t mean stealing songs. I mean trends.
In music, trends are everything. If you know what style will become popular, you can use it early. That’s my greatest weapon.
The most important turning point is the first major exam. If I get a scholarship then, I’ll have a strong chance of keeping it long-term. That means I need a truly overwhelming song.
I listened to the songs I’d written so far. They weren’t bad. In my past life, aside from my singing, they were well received.
But… is it enough?
That question kept circling in my head. Could these songs really overwhelm geniuses from all over the country?
Honestly, I don’t think so.
There are many reasons, but the biggest one is simple: these songs were written for me to sing. Songs tailored to me. Because I was the one who had to sing them, I compromised a lot.
With songs built on compromise, can I deliver something overwhelming?
No.
The answer came immediately. These songs may be good, but they’re not overwhelming. Even with new arrangements, unless I rebuild the core completely, it won’t work.
I closed my eyes.
I’ve already given up on being a singer. From now on, I’ll write songs for someone else to sing.
I opened my eyes and whispered quietly, “Let’s do it.”
Not a compromised song, but one filled with my full ambition. I imagined who would sing it.
Many singers crossed my mind, but in the end, only one remained.
Suyeon.
Good. The owner of the song is decided.
Now I need a theme.
That part was easy. Family.
The words I want to say to Mom and Suyeon, who suffered because of me. My apologies. My gratitude.
I opened the composition program and began writing. My fingers flew across the keyboard. In the past, I would’ve compromised certain parts, but now I refused. I reached greedily for everything I wanted and poured that greed into the music.
But I still wasn’t satisfied.
Seongmin was right. There’s a massive difference between composing solely with software and using real instruments. That’s why the practical exam requires live performance.
I checked my phone. It was 9 p.m.
It was late, but Seongmin was probably still at the studio.
I packed my laptop into my bag and got ready to leave.
As I headed out, Mom asked, “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to practice a bit.”
“Don’t overdo it.”
I nodded at her voice from behind and headed to Haul Studio, melodies repeating endlessly in my head. Before I realized it, I had arrived.
When I opened the door, Seongmin looked at me in surprise.
“Hajun? What brings you here at this hour?”
“Sunbaenim… may I use the guitar for a bit?”
He looked startled for a moment, then nodded.
“Of course. Go ahead.”
“Thank you.”
I thanked him and went straight into the instrument room. I turned on the recorder I’d brought, picked up a guitar, and began to play the melody that had been echoing in my mind.
The sound slowly filled the studio.