The Only Unbroken Thing
The world I immersed into through the second script was different from before.
No one's here.
It wasn't showing me some scene from Lee Jae-i's life anymore. It was a space where I had become Lee Jae-i himself, free to roam about.
Crack.
But it wasn't that easy. Countless shards of broken glass on the floor blocked any hasty movement.
The surroundings were dark. A pitch-black world where nothing was visible.
I can see a little now.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, the area slowly revealed itself. A massive, empty opera hall. There, all alone in that space, was me—no, Lee Jae-i.
The floor was carpeted with shattered glass fragments. I—Lee Jae-i—looked down at the stage far below.
A grand piano sat on the worn-out stage, untouched by a single ray of light. That was Lee Jae-i's one and only pride, his last lifeline.
"...I have to go."
To let them know I could prove my talent.
Crack, crack.
Stepping carefully on the glass shards, I slowly descended. In this unfinished world where nothing was properly complete, the piano was the only thing unbroken.
The sole finished product amid a world of shattered, broken, worn-out, and lost things.
Squelch, squelch.
With every step toward the piano, glass bits stuck to my soles dug into my flesh. Where were my shoes? It didn't matter.
Screeech.
The sound of pulling out the piano bench was like someone's scream. Was it the scream Mom let out when I broke the vase? Or my own cry from that day of suffocating loneliness?
Whatever. It didn't matter anymore.
Swish.
The piano lid opened, revealing the hidden keys. The moment my fingers touched the white keys, a sound rang out.
"Maybe someone like you should've never been born..."
"No, no, Mommy's sorry."
Tears fell onto the black keys, and sounds flowed out.
"I've never once thought of someone like you as my son. You could've just followed in your mother's footsteps, right?"
Vicious words stabbed into me like awls. Yeah, this was a familiar tune. A loathing so deeply entangled it wouldn't leave my body anymore.
Only now did I realize. I didn't bloom from hatred. I—
Time rewound to the present.
Kim Youngmo PD headed to the principal's office to ask about using the grand piano. Sure, they'd rented out the entire arts high school, and there wouldn't be any issues with just using it, but it was the morally right thing to mention it.
"...So you're saying you'll use the grand piano?"
"Yes, that's right."
"Hmm..."
The principal looked troubled.
"Truth be told, when I said you could use the whole school without mentioning equipment, it was because I knew actors couldn't handle them properly."
After learning how Hide Dream would be filmed, the principal had known non-professionals couldn't play instruments, so he'd generously offered the lot.
But now, a grand piano? Of course, playing it wouldn't break it, but a non-major handling such an instrument was nerve-wracking.
It's already tuned and fine, though.
Hmm, a moment's hesitation. Still, he had to honor his word to the end.
The principal nodded and added a condition. "Then, could I watch along, just in case?"
"Oh, of course. Why not?"
Filming was about to start soon anyway—let's go together. At Kim Youngmo PD's straightforward response, the principal felt a bit better.
Broadcast folks usually came off as nitpicky, sensitive, and acting like they owned the place.
Hmm, hope the drama does well.
With a small prayer, the principal followed Kim Youngmo PD.
There, countless staff were spread out around one central figure.
"That kid's the one playing?"
"Yes, actor Kim Donghu."
"He's insanely handsome. First time seeing someone that good-looking in my life."
The principal voiced his honest impression. In his years as arts high school principal, he'd seen plenty of arts and athletics talents, but never anyone this handsome.
"He starts playing right now?"
"No, he's just warming up his fingers first."
"I see."
Once the facial appraisal ended and it was time for the performance, the principal's expression hardened instantly. He viewed actors from a viewer's perspective, but music from a professional's—naturally turning serious.
His gaze reluctantly dropped downward, and his eyebrows twitched slightly.
"By any chance, is that actor Kim Donghu a piano major originally?"
"No, never heard that. Just that he knows how to play. Is there a problem?"
"Oh, no, nothing like that. Haha."
The principal laughed awkwardly and re-examined Kim Donghu's posture.
No matter how I look, he seems like a pro.
The way he sat at the piano, positioned his feet for the pedals. His upright posture, naturally placing fingers on the keys. Every detail screamed professional aura, honed by endless effort into ingrained habit.
Then the performance began, startling the principal.
Light, lively notes shot straight out.
"Oh, he plays really well."
Top-class by general standards. A little polishing, and he could enroll in arts high school right away.
"R-right? He plays amazingly, doesn't he?!"
"...?"
Didn't you know? Why so surprised?
The principal was flustered by Kim Youngmo PD's heated reaction. He shrugged it off.
Eh, probably nothing much.
Anyway, that skill level meant no issues. As he relaxed to leave, Kim Youngmo PD's words stopped him.
"If that's just warming up, does that mean the real acting performance will be even better?"
"Pardon?"
"I don't know much about piano, so if that's practice, maybe...?"
Come to think of it, yes. That was just a simple warm-up.
But that level—
Probably just bluffing.
Honestly, that alone was impressive. But better than that?
Everyone's falling too deep for a 14-year-old's brag.
That age lies a lot. Overexpecting just because the kid can play a bit.
The principal glanced around. As practice ended and real filming began, anticipation lit every face. Sad, really. High hopes meant big disappointment.
"Ah, he could play even better, sure. Totally possible."
Still, to not ruin the mood, the principal nodded and stayed put.
"Alright, filming starts! Cue!"
With the cue sign and the camera's red light on—
Thum.
The black key pressed softly, spreading slowly around.
"...!"
The principal's eyes bulged wide.
After a practice run on the piano, I nodded, signaling to the director that I was ready.
My fingertips trembled, eager to unleash the performance I'd practiced through countless immersions.
But not yet. This wasn't the moment.
This performance wasn't for Kim Donghu. It was sheet music allowed only for Lee Jae-i.
"Alright, filming starts! Cue!"
With permission granted, emotion vanished from my face.
Dung.
The black key met my finger, and loathing boiled up.
"I've never once thought of someone like you as my son. You could've just followed in your mother's footsteps, right?"
Ding.
The white key followed, dredging up forgotten contempt.
"Maybe someone like you should've never been born..."
"No, no, Mommy's sorry."
Lee Jae-i—no, I—was born amid broken shards, never once looking down. I wasn't born from hatred. I grew up in it, with it, devouring it. Like maggots in the vase Mom shattered.
I lived feeding on loathing, chewing it, savoring it.
Yes, I was a flower grown by eating hatred.
The performance began. Hatred for family flowed through the keys. Why shatter like that, leaving young me behind? Couldn't you yield a bit more, endure? Didn't you think of me?
Each pedal press burst resentment toward inferiors. How could you smile like that? Laugh seeing trophies tossed in the trash? Be so harmonious?
How could you inferiors, lesser than me—
Have what I couldn't.
It was a question, an inferiority complex. You say talent and ability get you everything. So why can't I have what I want?
That's why I hated you. Hated those stupid attempts, backed by parents.
Hated it. Hated the whole world.
The world that let me have only this one piano. My wretchedness, allowed only broken things—
It was loathsome.
Self-loathing boiled into emotion, spreading through the keys. That's why you can't succeed—no, you mustn't.
My gaze fixed on the camera, hands moving faster. If you won't break against talent's wall, I'll shatter you.
I, bearing this seething loathing, would kill your dreams.
More passionately, heavier, fiercer.
Moonlight Sonata, First Movement.
Lee Jae-i's hatred permeated everywhere.