The next morning.
"Have a good day!"
"..."
"..."
My mother and father looked at each other. Then, they briefly told me not to push myself today and to rest at home before heading out.
As soon as the front door closed with a clattering sound:
- Don’t you think Seojin has changed a lot?
- Exactly. It’s like he’s become an elementary school kid trying to imitate the way a man in his 40s speaks.
- He suddenly became so mature. He was already like that, but now it's even more so.
- And he speaks English like a native speaker. I was so surprised in Singapore. Have we not been paying enough attention to him?
- No, Seojin has always been a diligent kid at school, right? His grades were always good. I guess that’s just starting to really show now.
- Is that it? Oh! His performance of "Träumerei" in the hospital lobby was amazing, too. I didn’t see much of it, but he seems to have improved a lot. Don’t you think?
- I guess his hard work is starting to pay off.
- So… doesn’t that make our son really cool?
- He’s always been cool, though.
"..."
Once again, I shouted toward the paper-thin front door of our apartment, which still boasted the best soundproofing even after 25 years of use.
"Have a good day!"
A moment later, I heard my mother hiccup. My father’s awkward exclamation of, “Y-yeah!” followed. Then, the hallway fell silent.
The two headed to work early in the morning.
A couple living in Korea, both working, had been away from the country for almost a month.
One didn’t need to imagine how much work must have piled up in the meantime — it was obvious.
‘Well... They were always busy, anyway.’
I retrieved the 200,000 won that was sitting on the dining table.
I had lost many of my belongings in this incident. Most of them were probably drifting somewhere in the Myanmar Sea, and there was no way to retrieve them.
This money was allowance from my parents, who had given me permission to use it for whatever I needed.
‘200,000 won is a lot more than I thought.’
During my time with Uncle Miller, I’d heard plenty about how much one should charge for composing a song and how much royalties generally bring in, but that was still a distant concept for me.
As a 6th grader, this was probably the biggest income I’d ever had in my life.
‘I feel like I’ve become rich.’
What should I do with it?
Maybe I should buy a chocolate croissant from Paris Baguette.
Or perhaps some Golden Olive Chicken.
I wonder if Honey Butter Chips are still available.
“Tsk.”
Just thinking about it made my mouth water, but it didn’t seem like money I should spend frivolously.
I decided to hold off for now.
I went into my room and put the 200,000 won in the top drawer of my desk.
Then, I rummaged through the other drawers.
By the way, it’s currently summer vacation. I had flown to Singapore to participate in a masterclass during this break, and before I knew it, 25 days had flown by.
In short, there wasn't much time left until school started again.
That meant, as someone preparing for the entrance exam to an arts middle school, there was something I absolutely had to do.
I rummaged through everything around my desk, and finally, I found what I was looking for on the bookshelf.
Summer break activity guide.
Simply put, it was summer homework.
The arts middle school entrance exam reflects elementary school grades.
And among the summer homework, quite a few assignments were factored into the grades.
I quickly flipped through the booklet.
[English Vocabulary Project! Write 10 words a day in your notebook, for 30 days.]
[Research the names and capitals of 20 different countries.]
[Write more than 10 journal entries.]
[Solve 5 pages of math problems every day...]
There were so many tasks.
The only relief was that my past self had already completed most of it. A file with my name on it neatly organized all the assignments.
Some parts seemed like they needed a bit of supplementation, but it didn’t seem like it would take too long.
Still, it was a relief, but...
“Is this... really right?”
I felt a bit dumbfounded.
I had spent about three and a half years surviving fiercely on that deserted island, living with Uncle Miller.
In terms of days, it was more than 1,200 days.
And that was 24 hours a day.
By the way, Uncle Miller was an incredibly knowledgeable man. There was nothing he didn't know if you asked him, and especially when it came to music, he was like a walking encyclopedia.
During that time, what I learned from the man was:
Ludwig Wittgenstein’s Anglo-American analytic philosophy, the relationship between definite integrals and the sum of series, and discussions on what improvements could be made to the reality of American multiculturalism and the education system.
It was stuff like that.
But suddenly, as I was looking at a math problem that started with: “There are two magic bags where you can put anything! But if you put your hand in the red bag, ta-da! It triples! *Wink (。•̀á´—-)* It’s the power of magic,” I felt a headache coming on.
“This is driving me crazy…”
For no reason, I searched for the mandatory education period in South Korea on my PC at home.
Unfortunately, the answer was consistent.
I had no choice but to graduate until middle school.
I also found a kind response that said, [If you don’t like that, your parents might send you to a different “school,” is that okay? Oh? You don’t know what a school is? It’s a prison. Haha ^^]
It had been a while since I last saw such spicy comments on the Knowledge In forum.
“Sigh.”
I already felt overwhelmed thinking about the second semester of 6th grade that I still had to attend.
I thought going to an arts middle school might not be so bad.
At least there, I could focus more on learning music and piano in depth than on the regular curriculum. I also heard that there are many renowned music teachers in Korea at those schools.
That’s what I had been working so hard for all this time.
As a result of struggling and fighting my way up since I was young, I somehow managed to place third in a small domestic competition. As a prize, I even got to go to Singapore.
By the way, if one wins a prize in a competition, they get bonus points for entrance exams.
In short, it’s like having secured a slight advantage.
On top of that, my grades were decent, and I had been preparing diligently for the practical exam for the arts middle school that would take place in the fall.
Thinking back to how I was able to play 'Träumerei' without much trouble the other day, I figured that if I kept practicing regularly, I could easily get into the arts middle school.
"..."
Uh...
That should be the case... right?
After spending so much time with Uncle Miller, I can’t quite gauge my own level anymore.
To be precise, I’ve lost the ability to objectively assess myself.
For the record, Uncle Miller is someone who made it to the final round of the Chopin Competition.
The final round of the Chopin Competition.
In other words, he’s someone who placed at least 12th in a competition where the world’s top pianists gather.
And he's also a composer who wrote a song that hit number one on the Billboard HOT 100.
Naturally, Uncle Miller always had high expectations for me, and all I did was barely manage to keep up with those expectations.
On top of that, on the deserted island, the only thing I had was a fake piano carved out of wood.
Although he consistently taught me, I can't exactly say I learned to play the piano perfectly from him.
So, what level am I at right now?
"..."
Sigh.
Because of the slight anxiety that crept up, I sat down in front of the piano at home.
An electric piano.
It was a piano with a distinctly different touch from the acoustic pianos that piano majors commonly play.
Still, given the circumstances, this electronic piano was the best choice.
Due to soundproofing issues, this was the only piano I could play quietly by lowering the volume or using headphones.
I didn't want to make excuses, and honestly, I didn't mind at all.
'What should I play first?'
I grabbed a random sheet of music from the bookshelf next to the piano.
Without realizing it, I started humming a tune to myself.
And then.
I exhaled deeply and pressed down on the piano keys.
* * *
"Hmm~"
A little girl, about five years old, was humming a tune.
She was so excited that she wasn’t even paying attention to the people around her.
The elderly man, watching her with a gentle smile, asked her a question.
"Suyeon. Are you that happy?"
Han Suyeon nodded immediately.
"Yes! Because it's been so long since I’ve gone back home! And it’s been a while since I saw oppa too!"
"Seojin... Yes. It’s such a relief that he's alive."
"Exactly! Oh my gosh, you have no idea what happened. I was so worried the whole time! Isn't that right?"
"You're right. But, Suyeon."
"Yes?"
The grandfather knelt down to meet Suyeon at eye level.
"How was it staying at Grandpa's house all this time? We even set up a room for you on the second floor, decorated in your favorite sky blue, and there was a big teddy bear, too."
"......"
Han Suyeon blinked her big, bright eyes a few times, then shook her head.
"Still, I like our home better."
"Why?"
"Uh... because it's our home, right? Oh! That doesn’t mean Grandpa's house is bad! It's like a palace here! And... it's just... well... Grandpa’s house doesn’t have Oppa, or Mom and Dad, and... also..."
Watching his granddaughter get flustered, he sighed and stood up, as if there was no helping it.
"Alright. I understand. Let’s get going."
Song Gil-seop, Han Suyeon’s grandfather, headed to the parking garage in the basement with his granddaughter.
A man in a suit, standing by a luxury sedan, noticed the two approaching and bowed in greeting.
"Where shall I take you?"
"We’ll go to my daughter’s house. You know the address?"
"Yes, I already input it into the navigation last time."
"Good. Let’s go."
The occupants of the car remained silent for a while.
The man in the suit, seated in the front, didn’t glance at the two in the back, and Song Gil-seop simply stared out the window.
As the car moved, the buildings outside gradually grew smaller and smaller.
They were heading toward an old, rundown area.
After some time passed, Song Gil-seop turned his head at the sound of his granddaughter's voice.
"But Grandpa?"
"What is it?"
"Is Grandpa rich? You live in a much nicer house than ours. I've only seen houses like that in dramas. You know, like the youngest granddaughter of a chaebol family or something."
"......"
"The question you asked me earlier felt like you were asking something like that. Whether it's good to live as a rich person or not, and to choose. I suddenly became curious if my guess was right."
"......"
At his bold granddaughter's question, Song Gil-seop naturally smiled.
But Song Gil-seop had to give his granddaughter a different answer.
"Our family isn't a chaebol. And this grandpa isn't rich either. There are a lot of people with money in this world. I can't compare to them. This grandpa is just..."
At that moment,
A voice from the car’s navigation system announced their arrival.
The driver parked the car in an appropriate spot in the apartment complex's parking lot. Then he got out of the car and opened the back door.
"We've arrived. Let's continue this conversation next time."
"Okay!"
Han Suyeon got out of the car and bowed deeply at a 90-degree angle. Song Gil-seop waved at his granddaughter several times.
The driver escorted Suyeon to the apartment entrance. Song Gil-seop, watching them for a while, finally stepped out of the car.
He looked up at the apartment.
A corridor-style apartment building.
It was obvious at a glance that the apartment was old.
Yet, for some reason, his eyes were drawn to a house on the 5th floor, as if he could hear the sound of a piano playing from there.
After a moment,
The front door of the house on the 5th floor seemed to open, then quickly closed again.
Only then did Song Gil-seop get back into the car.
And so, he waited for the driver to return.
While mulling over a multitude of complex thoughts...
* * *
As soon as the front door opened, a small figure came rushing towards me.
Before I could stop it, it clung tightly to my body and let out a strange sound, “Oppaaaaaahhhhhh!” My clothes quickly became damp, as though a faucet had been turned on.
I patted Suyeon’s head and asked the man standing at the entrance a question.
“What about Grandpa?”
“He’s busy, so he had to leave immediately.”
“I see.”
“Yes.”
“Well, please make sure to send him my regards.”
“Understood.”
“Oh! Would you like something to drink? I wonder if there’s anything…”
“I’m fine. I’ll be on my way, then.”
The man in a suit bowed deeply and disappeared swiftly. He always seemed stern. I’d seen him a few times before, but he was always the same.
I had to work hard to console Suyeon, whose eyes were swollen from crying so much.
I played the piano for her, watched TV together, and even played with her dolls.
We spent a rather leisurely time together.
Only after some time had passed did I manage to have a proper conversation with Suyeon.
“Did you get along well with Grandpa while I was away?”
“Yeah. It was... alright.”
“‘Alright’? Does that mean it was good or bad?”
"Not really. It was just so-so."
"Why?"
"Uh... well..."
While counting with her short, stubby fingers as if something was about to come to mind, Suyeon gave her reasons. She chattered on for a while.
"Anyway, I like it here! And Grandpa had something to tell you."
"Me?"
"Yeah."
Suyeon cleared her throat and then slightly scrunched up her face.
I wondered what she was up to.
"Ahem! When you go back home, tell Seojin this."
She suddenly started mimicking Grandpa's voice.
Of course, she didn’t do it very well.
"These days, there are no decent people among reporters or TV stations, so you always have to be careful. And there are a lot of impostors, so be especially wary. With voice phishing and con artists, the world is dangerous, so no amount of caution is enough. Got it?"
I smiled and asked Suyeon.
"Is that all?"
"Yep! That's all."
Suyeon cheerfully answered in her usual clear voice.
"I memorized it really hard!"
"Good job."
"Hehe."
Around lunchtime, I made fried rice with Suyeon.
I didn’t actually cook it myself. I just reheated what my mom left for me in the morning, stir-frying it in a pan.
Suyeon, who was leaning against the table, peeking at me, kept striking up a conversation.
“Wow. Were you always good at cooking? When did you learn?”
“This doesn’t even count as cooking. Next time, I’ll show you how I grill dried fish.”
“...Huh?”
“If I get the chance, that is. I’m pretty good at grilling over an open flame. Anyway, let’s eat for now.”
After finishing her meal quickly, Suyeon said she had something to do and dashed into her room.
Rustle, rustle.
I thought I heard some strange noises, and then she called out to me loudly.
“I finally caught it!”
“Huh? Caught what?”
“The pig! I killed it!”
“...”
Turns out, it was a piggy bank.
Suyeon had broken the piggy bank she hadn't saved much in, and after stuffing a few coins into her pocket, she reached out her hand to me.
“Oppa, let’s step out for a bit.”
“Where to?”
“The store. I want to buy you a gift.”
“A gift?”
“Yeah. A welcome-back gift. Come on, follow me. Just follow me, okay?”
“...”
Before I knew it, I was being led by Suyeon, hand in hand, to the supermarket in front of our apartment complex.
Suyeon looked extremely triumphant.
Watching her, I couldn't help but pat her head a few times.
When we arrived at the convenience store, Suyeon proudly told me to pick whatever I wanted, as if ringing a golden bell.
She was brimming with confidence.
Anyone watching might think she was rich.
But knowing all too well the pitiful state of her piggy bank, I only picked out an ice cream. I also grabbed one for her since she couldn't reach the freezer.
Chairwoman Han Suyeon, having spent the grand sum of 2,000 won, confidently took a seat on the bench in front of the store. With a few pats of her hand, she motioned for me to sit down too, as if she had reserved the whole place.
The sun beating down on the bench was scorching.
It wasn't quite as bad as the deserted island, but whether in Singapore or here, the heat was the same.
Sweat began to trickle down. I could feel my head getting hotter. When I lightly placed my hand on top of Suyeon's head, it was, as expected, warm. Leaving my hand there, I tried to shield her from the sun, even if only a little.
Sweltering South Korea.
But here, it was a bit...
“It’s cool.”
It was refreshing.
“Yeah! Super cool! Ice cream is perfect for summer. But Mom said if you eat too much, you'll get a stomachache.”
“Still, two should be fine, right?”
“Huh?”
“I already finished mine.”
“...”
For a moment, Suyeon was plunged into a moral dilemma. After a while of deep thought, she handed me another 2,000 won.
“This is our secret.”
"Okay."
"Can you get one more for me too?"
"Of course."
As I was enjoying some time with my younger sister, I suddenly remembered the 200,000 won I had received from my parents.
I thought I should use part of it to buy a gift for my sister.
Maybe it was because of the heat.
It became clear what I needed to do with the 200,000 won.
"A guitar."
"Huh?"
"I need to buy an acoustic guitar. The piano at home isn't enough. It's more convenient for composing."
"But what's an acoustic guitar?"
"A classical guitar. You play it like this, understand?"
As I mimicked playing it, Suyeon quickly understood.
Suyeon looked at me with surprised eyes.
"Oppa, you know how to play the guitar?"
And at that moment,
A man walking toward us from the apartment entrance answered before I could.
"Is that so, Han Seojin? I didn't know you could play the guitar too."
"..."
"..."
The man raised both his hands slightly, perhaps intending to reassure us.
"Oh, I'm not a suspicious person. I'm Yeo Jin-soo, an assistant director at KBC Broadcasting Station..."
And then.
My clever little sister shouted boldly, just as grandpa had taught them.
"Hey, there's a suspicious person here!!! Help!!! He's pretending to be from a broadcasting station!!!"
Lol. Good little sister. Serves them right for trying to take advantage of the situation.
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