Chapter 30
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: Intended or Not (3)
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The instrument storage room had become so familiar now that its size no longer surprised me. A sign reading "Out for the Moment" hung on the warehouse door outside.
The female student who had plopped down in the chair across from me crossed her legs energetically and spoke.
"Do-hyun, you don't go home on weekends?"
"I don't even have private lessons. Why would I?"
"Then you should come hang out!"
"I'm dying from lack of practice time as it is."
"Whoa, straight out of the model student playbook."
Daeun sunbae pointed at me with a playful smile.
It was Friday after school, when most students had already headed home.
With the crimson sunset pouring between us, she and I sat facing each other.
"It's rare for a junior to call me out like this. What's up? I'm totally excited."
I let out a pointless cough.
Calling a senior from the second-year classroom—one I barely knew—felt a bit embarrassing.
"Looks like you're not going anywhere this weekend either, sunbae."
"I'm always stuck at school~ If you get bored on the weekend, come visit!"
I didn't want to drop by because it felt burdensome...
I glanced away slightly, and my eyes fell on a desk piled high with reference books and workbooks. Did she study here and practice in her spare time?
And still maintain the top rank? This girl was impressive.
"Ah... Got it."
As I sat there blankly, sunbae adjusted her glasses, her eyes sparkling.
"Hey, you can't just like your sunbae however you want."
"I'm heartbroken."
"Wow, thanks for saying it in a way that leaves zero regrets."
I figured I'd start by explaining the overview of the second evaluation. I cleared my throat lightly to prepare, but sunbae fired questions at me without pause.
"So... relationship advice?!"
"Nope, not that."
"Boring. So what is it? Spill casually."
"It's about the first-year music department exam."
"Tch, figures."
I explained the second evaluation details to sunbae as thoroughly as possible. All my own deliberations, plus the issues I'd felt during yesterday's practice.
I added that I'd gratefully accept any advice she had as an orchestra senior.
Sunbae, who had been listening with a casual expression, nodded as if she got it. Before I knew it, her eyes had darkened intently.
"Hmm, so that's what you're doing. Things were way simpler back in our day."
She swung her crossed leg and asked.
"What do you think, Do-hyun?"
"Well... Rearranging the instruments to face each other, or emphasizing the transitions between themes to anchor the center. That could work. I think we need to ramp up focus periodically."
Daeun sunbae watched me explain eagerly, resting her chin on her hand with an amused grin, like I was cute.
"Yeah, keep going."
"Matching breaths between the best instruments and the piano to build the sound... Focusing the flow on higher-toned instruments over bass ones might be good too. It grabs the ear first, after all."
Sunbae listened to the end, then chuckled softly and straightened up.
"More specific than I expected. Not bad ideas at all. Honestly, I'm impressed."
"...It's nothing."
"But Do-hyun, you said yesterday was your first time actually playing a concerto, right?"
"Yeah, I'm still short on experience."
"Forget experience. It's... like, you're viewing it too much from the audience perspective."
Audience.
That single word froze me solid.
Until now, for every assignment, I'd practiced by envisioning performances I considered the best.
The results were good, and practice efficiency was high. But was my whole approach wrong this time?
"You can't just see the performers in third person. That's the conductor's or audience's view. We're playing in first person, right?"
Teacher Choi Je-hun's words faintly resurfaced. Performance is an outburst of energy dominated by the unconscious, so memories from the lesson room evaporate entirely.
"The assigned pieces are three concertos, right?"
"Yes."
"I think this evaluation is for the piano department. Using music department students as backing for the piano exam."
Sunbae smiled faintly and continued.
"The chamber orchestra has the fewest people, too. Kids usually pick the toughest pieces for assignments. And the difficulty here is purely piano-based."
Thinking about it, she was right. The brass barely had anything to do in these pieces. Even with the arrangements adding some volume.
So, if I viewed this as a piano department exam rather than a full music department test, what changed?
Sunbae had the answer.
"Simply put... the piano can't look pathetic."
"Pathetic?"
It sounded vague, like grasping at clouds.
"This applies to all solo instruments, really. Violin concerto, oboe concerto, whatever."
She mimed tapping keys as she went on.
"To highlight one solo instrument, layers of notes pile up around it. That's the setup. But in those pieces, a solo that can't lead the orchestra? Utterly pathetic."
Pathetic. Sunbae's eyes were quite cold as she emphasized the word.
"Follow the strings here, match the woodwinds there—if the piano's just trembling along, which instrument would trust and lean on it?"
"..."
"Unless it's purely the solo part or cadenza, the piano isn't playing the whole piece alone."
It was graspable but fuzzy hearing it described. As a horn major, she couldn't demonstrate it herself.
"Do-hyun, instruments have innate roles?"
She let out a spirited "Hooah!" and pulled her horn from its case, cradling it.
"Innate roles?"
"Yeah, innate roles. Some instruments are born stars, others forever supporting actors."
"They're all capable of solo performance, though."
"Heard of A-list supporting roles?"
"Yes."
"The movies where they star usually flop."
Sunbae chuckled and stroked her horn. A wistful air clung to her slow-moving hand.
"Like actors. Leads star in almost everything. But occasionally, a lead takes a supporting role? They don't label it as such."
"What do they call it?"
"Special appearance."
Clutching her horn tight, sunbae murmured with a lonely gaze.
"Horn fits supporting perfectly. Ever heard a horn concerto? Probably don't even know they exist."
A faint smile tainted her words—not genuine amusement, but scorn.
'...I listen to horn concertos sometimes. Like Mozart's.'
I almost said it but held back, deeming it irrelevant.
"Do-hyun!"
"Yes."
Sunbae stood and patted my shoulder lightly.
"I play horn because I love it, but you're a pianist. Piano's nickname is cool too! Emperor of instruments, right?"
She grinned tomboyishly down at me.
"Have confidence as a pianist. You deserve to. You're the lead."
Weekend afternoon.
I patted my full belly, finished my walk, and headed back to the practice room.
[Did you eat?]
Lee Ha-yeon's voice came through my phone. It felt novel.
Truly, you see all sorts in a long life—or a second one.
"Yeah, just now."
[At the cafeteria? What'd you have?]
"...Missed mealtime practicing, so instant ramen."
[Eat properly, why ramen?]
Silence settled briefly in our conversation.
[Nice weather?]
"We're in Seoul. Does the weather ever cooperate?"
[Oh, right. Yeah.]
Evidence of her deep thought came as hesitant "Uh, um" sounds for a moment.
[Practice going well? This assignment's tough.]
"It'll improve with more practice. The leaps and forte expression are tricky."
[Send me screenshots of the hard parts. I'll re-record some videos.]
"O... Thanks as always. You're busy."
Ha-yeon hesitated before asking again.
[...Did you eat?]
"We covered that first."
[Weather's nice... Oh, we did that too.]
I made a strange face, scratched my head, and said.
"Like casual chit-chat. What're you up to? What do you do for breaks?"
[Wh-what do you do on breaks?]
"Breathe. Sleep."
[...I breathe too.]
"Obviously."
[I sleep a lot too.]
"Explains your skin."
She chuckled. I burst out laughing at the same time.
[I'll think a bit more and call Ju-hee. Hang in there.]
"You too."
A deep breath mixed with static, then the call ended. I stared at my phone screen with an awkward smile.
'Practicing before calling a friend.'
Ha-yeon's friendship operation would take time.
Anyway, weekend call with Ha-yeon... Not just piano together, but luxuries like this.
'Kwon Do-hyun, how blessed are you exactly?'
I entered the practice room feeling like praising a god I didn't believe in.
With people helping me, I had to practice harder.
I watched Ha-yeon's videos, studied famous performances, and moved my fingers.
In short, my fingers danced over the keys for hours.
'The lead...'
I kept mulling Daeun sunbae's words, but no grasp yet.
Seeing soloists with world-class orchestras felt like the lead vibe.
'First-person view is hard to internalize deeply... Not just play freely, though. Long way to go.'
Next week, joining another group might feel different.
Suddenly realizing I'd been cooped up too long, I opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Time for air and dinner.
Progress felt good from practice. Hundreds of recording files already on my phone.
'Evenings are still chilly.'
The orange sunset was slowly shifting to purple.
The hallway lay in thick silence, eerily still. My footsteps echoed ominously.
Savoring the somber mood as I descended the stairs—
"Trumpet?"
A slender brass sound tickled my ears. Listening closely, yes, trumpet.
Dvorak Symphony No. 9, second movement.
From the New World, widely known as "Going Home." Famous enough to recognize instantly.
'O... Pretty good.'
She nailed the part usually an oboe solo, on trumpet.
Composed when Dvorak left Bohemia for New York, it demands delicate lyricism. Crafting that tender melancholy isn't easy.
'Brass is harder to play softly than blast loudly.'
This trumpet made me want the full Ninth. Kubelik's recording is killer.
At this level, Mahler 5 would suit. Check strings too, of course...
"Huh? Do-hyun?"
Snapping to, I was outside.
The outdoor passage linking main and annex buildings. My feet had followed the trumpet unconsciously.
And who calls me Do-hyun so casually?
"Ah, heard the trumpet."
Focusing, the mystery solved.
Far in the future, principal trumpet of the Chicago Symphony, one of Korea's brass prodigies.
Kim Ga-eul held the gleaming trumpet.
'Running into her here again?'
Her playing wasn't fluke-level.
"Dvorak fan?"
"How'd you know? It's Dvorak!"
Her round eyes sparkled as she closed in. I stepped back, wary.
"It's famous. And a favorite composer."
I don't picky-eat music. Listing favorites would tire my mouth.
"Symphonies? Mahler or Shostakovich top for me. How was it? Good, right!"
"What."
"My playing!"
Her whip-fast question stung; I nodded reflexively. It was good—no lie.
"Even I think I played well... Yeah."
She did, but hearing her cradle her cheeks and twist shyly was a bit cringey.
Were all geniuses like this?
"Heading back from practice?"
"Yeah, something like that."
"Practice rooms feel so~ stuffy, so..."
Kim Ga-eul stretched her arms high. A groan escaped, and distant thudding footsteps approached.
"Gasp."
"Gasp...?"
"Hey, Kim Ga-eul!"
A booming voice echoed across campus. Suddenly, Ga-eul hid behind me, clutching my collar.
"Ack, Do-hyun! Protect me, save me!"
Save her? No clue from what mortal peril. But the arriving figure explained.
A sweat-soaked giant of a man appeared from the opposite passage.
"Oh."
Ga-eul's SOS almost made me see her presumed teacher as foe, but I stayed calm. Smoothly grabbing her wrist, I pulled her forward.
"Here she is."
"Ah, teacher..."
"Think I can't find you hiding? You're getting a proper lesson today, no escape."
Panting heavily, he apprehended her and turned to me.
"Fine student here. What's your name?"
"Kwon Do-hyun."
"Good. Friends with Ga-eul?"
My instant reply halted.
"No, first time today."
"Urk..."
"Next time you see her, ask if she took her lesson."
"Yes, sir. Hard at it even weekends."
"Make it easier on me, Ga-eul. Come on."
I bowed politely and watched them go.
"You traitor..."
Her lament faded into the air.
"Hmm..."
15 minutes in.
Monday after school, I wandered the small auditorium hallway.
Hoping someone I'd bump into would go "Hey, it's you!" wave, and invite me to their group.
Miscalculation. Root issue: few knew me, and I knew few.
Some guy exiting twice stared oddly; I grinned sheepishly. Super embarrassing.
'Grab anyone tomorrow and ask.'
A bit servile, but efficient. Scores on the line—pride's a luxury.
"Aaah!"
Turning to leave, a shrill cry like a nightingale pierced from behind.
"Traitor!"
"Traitor...?"
Familiar word; turning, Kim Ga-eul charged with bulging eyes.
"You sold me out! Yesterday!"
"...Should've just taken your lesson properly."
Strictly, I gained nothing, so "sold out" felt off.
Panting then calming, Ga-eul asked.
"What're you doing here anyway? Practicing?"
"...Yeah, trying to."
The question I'd awaited 20 minutes finally hit; I swallowed inner joy. Emotion choked my voice.
With teary eyes, I continued.
"No group to practice with."
"Whoa... Poor you. What's your piece? Want me to hook you up?"
Kim Ga-eul glowed like Maria. Friends really pay off.
"Tchaikovsky."
"Huh? Me too. Practice with my group?"
"...For real? Cool?"
"I gathered them. No issue."
I nodded with resolve.