Chapter 61
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 61
Chapter Title: Learn or Imitate (2)
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I'm busy. Incredibly so.
Back when midterms had the whole school buzzing, that was nothing but the calm before the storm for me.
What was I thinking, sitting in the garden enjoying the breeze like some leisurely poet?
Practicing for the third evaluation, preparing for the recital, lessons—juggling it all is sheer torture.
'Still got a lot to sync up with Gyu-ri sunbae.'
Basking in the drowsy lunchtime sunlight as I shuffled along with my mind elsewhere, I spotted Teacher Han Yong-seong walking with some other faculty members.
"Teacher, looks like you've had lunch."
I dashed over with a playful grin and greeted him. Spotting me, he let out a short exclamation.
"Oh, hey. You eat well?"
"Yeah."
He clapped a hand on my shoulder and nodded toward the other teachers.
"You guys go on ahead."
One of them made a gesture, pressing index and middle fingers to her lips.
"Gonna chat with my kid here."
"That's him? Looks sharp and handsome."
"Teacher Han won't shut up about you all day. My ears are ringing—please rein it in a bit."
"Haha..."
I glanced up at Teacher Han, who was hurriedly shooing them off, and let out an awkward chuckle.
"Teacher."
"Stick around—I'm embarrassed right now."
"You really hold me that dear? I'm touched."
He cleared his throat slowly, then snapped back instead.
"Brat, th-that... You gotta say nice things so the other teachers notice you and maybe give you extra perks. It's image management."
"Anyway, I'm touched."
He cleared his throat a few more pointless times before looking at me.
"Whatever. How's the recital prep going?"
I poured out my daily woes of chaos in response.
"Gyu-ri sunbae composes in such a wild way. I'm weak on modern stuff, so playing a brand-new piece—I'm only just starting to get a feel for it."
"...Yeah? Well, sure. That's why I paired you two up."
If not for him, I wouldn't have met Park Gyu-ri sunbae or had this fresh experience.
No idea why he's acting all sheepish about it.
"I'd heard she writes avant-garde, experimental stuff, but how's she in person?"
"She fits one word perfectly—hipster. Rebel might make it click easier."
"Brat, you think I'm some out-of-touch old fogey? I'm still trendy."
"...Anyway, yeah."
I gave him a quick rundown of my two meetings with her.
We clicked on the deep dives, discovered her unique tastes, and her prototypes were all so obtuse they were tough to grasp.
"She's even weirder than I thought."
"First time meeting someone like her, so figuring out how to mesh... not easy."
He stared down at me silently for a beat.
Just as my awkward smile faded completely, he smirked and wagged a finger.
"Kwon Do-hyun, you're like her."
"Me and her?"
I blanked for a sec, rolling it over in my head.
Couldn't be about looks...
"How so?"
"Not alike exactly—you two just mirror each other."
"Not buying it."
"You both love music, devoured tons of it, but your tastes and goals are polar opposites."
A faint smile played on his lips as he continued.
"Think about why that gap exists. Admit the similarities first, then the differences pop out."
Still fuzzy on his point. Even mastering the same genres, tastes diverge by person, right?
"Oh, speaking of homework—you studying theory hard?"
"Doing my best."
"Theory's on midterms too."
"For theory subjects, aiming for finals."
"You need that feel sooner..."
He trailed off, sounding regretful.
Everything's like that, but music theory especially—no "aha!" lightbulb moments. Mostly pen-to-paper, head-scratching grind.
"Feels like technique—needs more time to build."
"Real-world application sticks faster. Brat, from what I hear, you haven't asked her a thing about theory?"
"Watched her compose, but it was all gibberish—no spark of curiosity."
He shook his head and sighed low.
"At your age, you should giggle at falling leaves, not stare at scores going 'that's this, that's that.' Show some interest in what you don't know."
"...Got it."
"Next time with Gyu-ri, grill her: why this progression here? Why this chord? Homework."
I pictured myself pestering her with nitpicky questions.
...Might get smacked.
"Teacher, you've seen her—she's kinda scary-looking. Like she'll claw if you poke."
"Hm, well... Brat, scary between kids? Just a year apart—don't get cocky."
Pretty sure he agreed just now.
"Gotta head out. You too—get to class and prep."
"See you at lesson."
I dazedly watched his back as he patted my shoulder and walked off.
'...Kinda cute side to him.'
Friday afternoon classes usually buzz with excitement.
Bodies in seats, souls on the street.
Normally, that fuzzy vibe would fill the major classroom right now.
"You kids not practicing? Announcement's been out days."
A flat voice pierced the air, chilling spines.
The frozen tension weighed on everyone's shoulders.
"I'm worried. When will you master ten-plus assignment pieces at this rate?"
Major practicals.
With third eval announced, class focused on assignments.
"Next. Myeong Woo-bin, Seol Yu-jin."
Simple format.
Call two up, teacher picks random assignments from themes.
Their plays get compared naturally; seated kids give feedback.
"Do great, Woo-bin."
"Show 'em?"
A few friends snickered support to Myeong Woo-bin. Cynical only to me, it seemed—he took care of his crew.
"Me too."
I turned at the sudden voice. Seol Yu-jin stood rigid in the aisle beside me.
Her eyes demanded something. Scanning quick, it was aimed at me, but what?
"...Want cheers too?"
"Cheer for me."
"Uh, knock 'em dead."
She nodded, satisfied, and stepped up. Myeong Woo-bin, already at the piano, shot us a grumpy look.
"Seol Yu-jin's pick, as expected."
"Cut it—I'm suffering."
I sighed at Lee Seong-hyuk's jab.
Just ask that girl he hangs with, Ji-hee or whatever.
"Teacher probably didn't pair 'em on purpose, but still exciting."
"Huh?"
"Said it at entrance ceremony. After Baek Ji-ho and Lee Ha-yeon, those two are top rivals."
"Right, yeah."
First eval: Myeong Woo-bin won. Second: Seol Yu-jin.
Standouts gonna standout, but those two's pride? Direct compare like this sparks cutthroat rivalry beyond class.
"One Mazeppa, one Träumerei."
Teacher nodded curtly—no need for words; just play.
"Seol Yu-jin, you first."
"Yes."
She ignored the score stack and hammered the keys.
'...What.'
Fierce. Like a gale slashing my face.
More ferocious than usual, she smashed every key like she meant to shatter it.
Kids marveled at the raw power. The sound hit hard, sure, but this piece isn't won by brute force.
"Stop there. That's enough."
Teacher stood, thumped the piano to halt her. Plenty time to clock she ignores verbal stops.
"Ease up. No need to show off wood-smacking."
"...Yes."
"Emotion bases on the work. Don't dump your mood in it. Audience doesn't care about your baggage. Bad habit."
Quick feedback, then a wave.
"Next, you."
Seol Yu-jin exhaled and stepped back. Myeong Woo-bin set score on stand, sat, breathed steady.
"Whoa..."
His instant start drew my gasp and wry chuckle.
'Piano brawl?'
He went aggressive too, pounding keys fiercer than usual.
Situation got to him—wanted to prove edge.
'Ignored teacher's words.'
Mood clashed with piece; tiring listen. Pieces didn't mesh.
Handled emotion fine in first eval—rash now.
"Stop."
Teacher thumped desk, crossed legs, stared blankly.
"Teacher chants sutras or curses, dog's barking somewhere... What'd you hear?"
"Sorry, I overdid it too."
"Fine, next piece."
Attitude called out, but technique? Solid—no notes. They'd sharpened blades hard...
'Träumerei then?'
Ill-suited for them.
A hazy dream fragment, mirage-like. Needs convincing languid melody.
'Lyrical after power clash...'
Two more plays followed. I closed eyes, propped chin, ears wide to every note.
Seol Yu-jin and Myeong Woo-bin's Träumerei: one line each.
Her: desperate to prove something.
His: dull listen.
'Her edge lingers.'
His: understudied, flat output. Romantic nocturnes fine, but fairy-tale stuff? No dice.
"Träumerei—Seol Yu-jin edges it. Got feel."
"Mazeppa—Myeong Woo-bin better."
"She overdid. Both good, but..."
I nodded at the murmurs.
Exam won't pit them direct, but bares strengths/weaknesses fully.
Sharp gauge of player type/level.
Brutal for kids.
"Seated ones, spit out impressions."
"Träumerei... Myeong Woo-bin, make the slow clearer."
"Seol Yu-jin Mazeppa. Great, but octave rushes made it frantic."
"Yeah, full fingers on octaves..."
Same-assignment peers gave solid, tactful feedback.
I stayed mum—don't wanna stir hate.
"Kwon Do-hyun."
"Yes."
Wanted that.
"You love chiming in, right? Why quiet? Say something."
"Uh..."
"Träumerei only, not Mazeppa."
Eyes from Seol Yu-jin, Myeong Woo-bin, front row locked on me.
Opera lead under spotlights—heavy pressure.
All eyes on me, I cleared throat twice.
Half-ass it? Nah, not my style. Spill all.
"First off—Träumerei's usually 'dream.' Schumann's dream here? Not aspirational future."
Once flowing, it poured.
"Album 'Scenes from Childhood'—edited past highlights, cherry-picked memories. Dreams we touch only in fancy."
No sunny childhood glow.
"No forced bright for hope-chasing. No need for aching sorrow."
Unrealized dreams aren't pure sadness.
Beautiful 'cause unreachable—like chasing horizon stars, foolish kid ambition.
Reckless ignorance is child's essence.
"Unrealized is fine. Delusional even. Fill with hazy beauty—natural, convincing."
Who am I to dictate technique? They're near-perfect.
Just sharing overlooked analysis bits. Needs deep study/experience.
"Träumerei that tough...?"
"Ah, lesson teacher stressed touch for pretty tones."
"Critic vibes... What is he?"
"Her play better 'cause of that? Yeah, clearer, prettier."
Surprised, they took it well, sharing thoughts.
Treat serious answers serious? Tempts more talk.
'...Oops.'
But the two players glared daggers.
I flicked eyes to window quick.
'Don't blame me...'
Trigger-puller's fault, not bullet's.
Amid whispers, teacher raised voice.
"That's analysis. Grasp piece's mood your way—this chance to practice."
Brief Träumerei elaboration, then back to seats.
"Next. Seo Ye-ri, Kwon Do-hyun."
"Huh."
My name, but Kim Ju-hee's reaction faster. She ping-ponged looks between us, flustered.
Then whispered:
"Who do I cheer?"
"Not exam—both."
"Right. Do great."
I eyed her waving at Seo Ye-ri too, then headed to piano.
Hand on body, scanned room calm. My speech sparked quiet hype.
...Especially Myeong Woo-bin and Seol Yu-jin's stares.
'Both itching for slip-up.'
I dropped gaze. Me, solid on any first theme pick? Pitiful. Teacher handed mic then targeted me—sneaky.
Deep breath, looked up: Seo Ye-ri beaming goofy smile.
"Wanna play cool, great."
Wanna play great...
Everyone does.
"Me too."
I smiled easy back.
"Check if Kwon Do-hyun's all talk."
Awkward grin answered teacher's smirk.
Kids chuckled soft, eyes sharp on me.
Tension and hype coiled through me.