Chapter 56
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: Ironic Melody (4)
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I'd expected the composer department's dedicated practice room to be something extraordinary, but it was nothing special.
A single computer and a small synthesizer. Aside from that, it was just like any other practice room.
I wondered if a synthesizer was really necessary for classical composition, but since I knew nothing about it, I figured it must be. The only composing I'd ever seen was in movies, with someone scratching away at parchment with a feathered quill.
'Come to think of it, this room has a window with a view outside.'
If having a window counted as a privilege, then maybe it was. Most rooms were sealed shut without any.
"There are rules you have to follow when you're with me."
The senior, who'd thrown on a gray hoodie from the rack, plopped down into a chair. First-years were so intimidated by upperclassmen that they wouldn't even dream of wearing casual clothes, but it seemed that rigidity loosened up a bit in second year.
"First rule: don't look down on your senior."
"Then I'd have to sit here forever whenever we're together."
"......No backtalk."
"Got it."
"Second rule: no talk about height."
Her sharp gaze and slightly growling tone. Was her short stature a complex? If anything, it seemed charming.
"They call pitch 'key' in music, too. And brass instruments only make sound when you press the keys."
"Backtalk."
"Oh, right."
"Watch it."
"So, does that mean no words with 'key' in them at all......?"
"You wanna die?"
"No, ma'am."
Kim Ju-hee only got sharp-eyed when she was mad, but this senior's default mode was intimidating.
Still, she didn't seem to take my teasing seriously or try to crush me for it, so she probably wasn't a bad person at heart.
She stared right through me, then let out a smirk.
"Why do you think I picked you?"
"I've been wondering that myself. What did you see in me?"
"Where else but YouTube? Your jazz was fun to play. You think I'd go scouting juniors' performances all over the place?"
So that's how it was. To even become aware of someone named Kwon Do-hyun, YouTube was probably the gateway. My name wasn't exactly famous around school.
That said, calling it "fun" didn't sit entirely right with me.
"That was just jazz. For a composer department recital, that has to be a pretty big deal, right? You sure it's okay to hand such an important role to someone unproven?"
"I don't trust performers. Just trust me. So it doesn't matter."
Then why not just compose and perform it yourself? I held back from voicing my complaints, figuring it'd just get me in trouble.
"Let me explain. First off, there's no second-year piano major I like. Makes no sense for a composer like me to play piano worse than them, right?"
I'd heard that composition and conducting majors were similar in that piano skills were crucial for both. Even so, that level of confidence meant she really had to be pretty good at it.
"And?"
"Third-years are busy, and picking famous juniors would just get me accused of riding their coattails. That's when I found you."
I'd half-suspected as much, but she wasn't exactly normal either.
A flicker of unease hit me—maybe her confidence stemmed from a personality like Seol Yu-jin's. It was baffling how she assumed famous kids from our grade would naturally accept her collab invites.
This senior definitely had a massive ego. Better not poke it.
"Oh, and your great ear for music is a bonus."
"Ear for music?"
"That perfect pitch thing at the start of the semester. You were the one who arranged that movie score, right?"
What? I'd mosaicked it completely—how'd she spot that?
Was she the first to figure it out? Even Da-eun sunbae hadn't seemed to notice.
I'd been inwardly anxious about ending up with a mediocre composer senior, but my worries eased. After all, she'd go on to be renowned for her artistry.
"Impressive, huh? You can just tell from the timbre. Mind blown?"
"Yeah, it's amazing. Your ears must be incredible."
"......Yeah?"
She sounded flustered, like she hadn't expected straight-up praise.
She cleared her throat quickly to cover it up, though.
"Anyway, better than using some random hack. Figured a unique performer would be preferable."
"You could hire an outside pro."
"......I'm broke."
She crossed her arms and averted her eyes awkwardly.
"Eh, passion pay works for me."
If this were a broadcasting club gig, I'd have demanded something, but I had plenty to gain here, so I kept quiet. Plus, I'd unexpectedly connected with a future great.
"Good, I like that attitude. Just tone down the sass a bit."
Senior Gyu-ri wagged her pointing finger at me with a grin.
She stood up and approached. Nice not having to crane my neck since I was already sitting.
"Let's test you first. Like you said, I've never heard you play classical."
"Sure."
I moved to the piano in the corner and sat down.
It felt a little weird getting tested by another student instead of a teacher.
"Play something you're confident in."
"Something I'm confident in......"
As I pondered and stared at the keys, it hit me. I'd never really focused on solo pieces. Both the first and second evaluations had been group performances.
This could spell trouble for my practical exam prep...... but I had to play something, so I picked a piece I'd practiced a fair bit.
"Chopin, Grande Valse Brillante."
I poured out the memories from the first evaluation and the muscle memory in my fingers to finish the performance.
Playing it after a while, it felt noticeably smoother than before. With the technique flowing effortlessly, my emotional expression had more depth now.
"Hm."
"How was it?"
She'd stood silently by the piano, arms crossed now.
"That's it?"
"What do you mean?"
"Jeong Da-eun said you'd be the best musician in school."
"You mean that weird glasses-wearing horn major Jeong Da-eun?"
"Pfft...... yeah. The psycho glasses-wearing horn major Jeong Da-eun."
......That woman. Next time, I had to tell her to quit yapping about me everywhere.
"Now do some scales or whatever. Hanon...... y'know, the warm-up stuff."
"Can I do my usual routine?"
"Knock yourself out."
I did the exercises I'd been repeating daily ever since regressing and grabbing the piano first thing: scales, arpeggios, octaves, and so on.
It might look like Lee Ha-yeon's routine at a glance, but her goal was rekindling her feel for the keys, while mine was grinding actual experience.
"This is my daily practice."
"Hmm......?"
After finishing basics in front of her, she tilted her head, brow furrowed.
"How long have you been playing piano?"
Questions like this always stumped me. Should I include those vague early childhood lessons at the academy I barely remembered?
Thinking back, it was all just banging on the keys however I wanted back then, no real practice.
"It's fuzzy, but adding it all up, about a year and two months?"
"Seven years and two months."
"No, one year two months."
"What're you talking about?"
She scratched her ear, brow still knit, then froze.
"......One year?"
"Yeah."
"Bullshit. How'd you get into Ye-rim?"
She shook her head as she backed away.
These questions were just as tricky to answer. I just gave an awkward smile to avoid drama.
She rolled her eyes sideways, mumbling to herself inaudibly, then fixed her gaze on me.
"......For real?"
"No reason to lie."
She returned to her seat and let out a long sigh.
"That explains it. Your playing's solid, but the basics show some rough edges."
"Is that a compliment?"
"Means you're good enough for my piece. Call it praise."
So, I passed? She had a good ear, so despite the cocky tone, I took it as a win.
"Back to the beginning, then. Take a look at this."
She handed me a notebook. The cover had old-school staff lines and floating notes—definitely a composition book.
"This the draft you mentioned? Looks all torn up separately."
"Sit down properly first."
"Oh."
I took the notebook and shuffled back to my seat.
"Yeah, it's separate on purpose. Just jotted down multiple theme melodies for now."
"You like variations, huh?"
"Bingo. They said any form, around five minutes, so I'm going with what I do best: variations."
Reading through the score based on her explanation, none of the melodies were ordinary. It was like Teacher Han Yong-seong had mentioned Park Gyu-ri specifically—no truly striking motifs anywhere.
"Feels fresh, not new agey. Been a while since I heard melodies like these."
"I hate borrowing from anywhere. Everyone does it—why should I?"
"The bottom theme kinda echoes the final string pizzicato in Mahler's Sixth. Slap on a nice andante, and it'd work great."
"Whoa...... what are you?"
Squatting with her chin in hand, she stared at me in pure admiration.
"You listen to a lot of music?"
"Music's more than empathy for me—it's love."
"Nice. Favorite composer?"
"I'd rather die than pick one. No pickiness here."
"See? We're alike. Bet it pissed you off how friends pretend to know music but only listen to lesson pieces."
"......Nah, never bugged me."
Our arts high kids didn't exactly dive deep into music contrary to public image, but getting mad over that would've made life impossible.
I gave an embarrassed smile at her dissatisfied look.
"Anyway, I remember Jin Myeong-jo returning home recently and doing some Mahler with the Ye-rim Symphony. Wasn't intentional, but it gives off that vibe."
"Jin Myeong-jo's Mahler is solid. His loose conducting has this subtle flavor. Beethoven feels flat without the punch, but Mahler? He nails it weirdly well. He dropped a Bruckner album recently—young guy, I mean, not that long ago. You hear it? His Bruckner slays......"
Mid-rant, I realized my mistake.
First, her face had stiffened. Second, even I knew I'd talked way too much.
She seemed knowledgeable, so I'd gotten overly excited. Now I just sounded like a show-off.
"Hey."
Her flat call sent a chill down my spine.
"Where you been hiding till now?"
"......Huh?"
But her follow-up blew past my expectations.
"Why'd it take so long for a kid like you to show up?"
She whipped out her phone, fingers flying excitedly. Then she proudly shoved the screen at me.
"What do ya think? Killer, right."
"Jin Myeong-jo's Bruckner album?"
It was a photo of his live Bruckner recording.
She tapped the screen impatiently.
"Look closer."
"Whoa...... signed. Super jealous."
Not just any album—a rare one personally signed by Jin Myeong-jo.
"I hit the Arts Center a lot. Hey, you catch Deutsche Kammerphilharmonic last year? Insane program."
"Last year? Kammerphil?"
"Yeah, last year."
For the first time today, Senior Gyu-ri's eyes sparkled at me. Say no, and she'd probably kill me.
......Her excitement aside, I was sweating bullets.
'Last year was when?'
I frantically flipped through my mental calendar. Deutsche Kammer Philharmonic had toured Korea a few times...... I was in middle school three then, right......?
"Oh, oh......! The Beethoven 8 and Haydn one?"
"Yeah! You went?"
"Of course. Worked a gig to go—no, wait, Dad hooked me up. Anyway, yeah."
"Strings were unreal. Makes me wanna premiere with an orchestra like that. If I had to pick......"
Surprisingly, this prickly, intimidating senior and I clicked great.
Once music talk flowed, her edge softened, and she gestured casually while rambling on.
One quirky thing: despite devouring countless composers' works, her tastes leaned heavily niche.
"Russian vibe, that melancholy melody—you get it. Kapustin, Balakirev types."
"You're the first in ages who likes those over me. I go up to Prokofiev with Russian stuff."
"You know your shit. Prokofiev's sonatas rock, so Weinberg?"
"Wait, you listen to Weinberg? His sonatas are peak. No. 3's criminally underrated."
"Favorite performer?"
"Christophe Sirodeau for Weinberg."
"Dude...... you really listen."
I was thrilled to geek out purely over music, blurting stuff out. Filtering for unreleased shows or albums was tough, but whatever.
Even more surprising: she knew obscure composers better than mainstream ones. Maybe that's what steered her to indie film scoring later.
"Awesome. Never had chats like this even with seniors. Didn't expect a first-year to get it."
"Me neither. Everyone's too busy practicing to listen wide."
It really was shocking. Even if she couldn't match my experience, packing that knowledge at her age would've taken 24/7 classical immersion.
"Why's it so dark in here? Let's turn on the light."
"......The practice room's dark?"
My head naturally turned to the window.
It was true. The sun had set, and the auxiliary light barely let us make out faces.
I jolted, checking my phone—missed messages piled up.
[Lee Seong-hyuk ─ No dinner? Whatcha doing?]
Staring blankly at Lee Seong-hyuk's text, I heard her voice.
"Why'd we meet today again?"
"......To discuss the recital?"
"Ah, screwed."
Since it was late anyway, Gyu-ri senior suggested listening to a prototype of the piece she was working on before heading out.
I'd planned to grab something quick for dinner, so I agreed.
"Not finalized—just aiming for the vibe. Focus on the overall structure."
"Got it."
Even gathering every arts high kid in the country, she'd rank among the top music listeners. With that knowledge, and her evident talent thinking ahead, I couldn't help but anticipate.
"Here goes."
Her fingers hit the keys. My short Ye-rim days and concert experiences had honed my instincts. A few techniques and phrases could gauge skill.
'She's good.'
Park Gyu-ri was a solid pianist. Her cocky confidence wasn't bluff.
'Starts in major...... kinda floaty.'
Savoring her calm playing, my expression started crumpling.
'What the—why's it suddenly this weird?'
Modern music's dissonances piled up. It veered atonal-ish, then melodies stuttered in abruptly. Random modulations thrown in.
'......No clue.'
Anyone unfamiliar with the genre would dismiss this as noise. It teetered precariously between garbage and music.
"Whew."
She lifted her hands post-intense performance.
Irregular emotional waves like crashing surf, incomprehensible chord progressions. I was speechless for a bit.
"Thoughts?"
Oblivious, she smiled relieved.
'......Thought we were a great match moments ago.'
I couldn't picture working with her anymore.
It flipped the table entirely.
"Senior."
"Yeah?"
Her vast knowledge, niche tastes, future indie film composer path, and this bizarre style......
I gave my conclusion—no, diagnosis.
"Sounds like terminal hipster syndrome."
She snorted at my deadpan delivery.
"Not even close?"
Ah...... I'm surrounded by weirdos.