"Finally, the knight is dead! We won! Release the hostage while I'm still asking nicely! I knew Tofu was here!"
"...…"
"Hehe! How about that? You’re stuck now, aren’t you? The royal family is now wiped out!"
"...…"
As I lay on the floor, blankly staring at the ceiling, a sudden ambush began. Judging by the aroma drifting in from the kitchen, it seemed like dinner time. As it turned out, Suyeon was my dinnertime alarm.
The little girl climbed up on my stomach, eagerly continuing her story. I swiftly lifted Suyeon up.
A bit of tickling was a bonus.
Within 0.1 seconds, Suyeon burst into giggles and surrendered.
"Ahh! Sorry! Oppa! I was wrong!"
"I'm not losing to you yet. Got it? You little brat from the Count’s family."
"Ugh… So unfair! If only I’d been born seven years earlier!"
"Think you can take me on with just a seven-year difference?"
"Ahh! I surrender! Really, I surrender!"
After spending a moment playing with Suyeon, I headed out to the living room. Suyeon followed closely behind, holding her side with one hand.
On the dining table were spam slices, fried eggs, and a steaming pot of soybean paste stew. Steam was rising from the soybean paste stew as my mother generously served it into a bowl.
"Want more?"
"This should be enough, thank you."
"And Suyeon?"
"Just a little for me… I laughed so hard my stomach hurts."
"See? Who told you to mess with me? You totally brought this on yourself. Just eat as much as Mom gives you, okay?"
"Sigh... Okay."
As soon as Dad took a bite of Mom's soybean paste stew, he started raving about it, saying it tasted like something a professional chef would make. He couldn’t believe how delicious it was.
Mom, however, just brushed it off, saying it was store-bought soybean paste and that he should just eat without all the fuss. She even shot him a quick glance.
After savoring her reaction for a bit, Dad turned to ask me about how I was doing.
"So, how's school these days? No issues or anything?"
"It's fine. My friends and I are... um, all getting along well."
"Oh, that reminds me! Your homeroom teacher actually called me this afternoon! She said you scored full marks on all three of your quizzes! Why didn’t you tell me?"
Mom joined the conversation, her face beaming with pride.
"They were just small quizzes. It wasn't a big deal."
"But your teacher said she was really impressed! Especially with how much you've improved in English and Science."
"Does she really tell you all that?"
"Yep. She even complimented me, asking how I help you study at home—thanks to you, you know!"
Mom grinned brightly, looking almost as happy as Suyeon usually does.
Meanwhile, Suyeon seemed to be analyzing the situation a bit more seriously.
"Hmm. People have always said that you're smart, but since you came back from Singapore, there's just something... different about you. I thought hard about why that might be."
"....."
Sometimes, Suyeon can be surprisingly sharp.
Suddenly, she put down her chopsticks, walked over, and grabbed a stuffed bear. Then she handed it to me.
"See? Isn't it obvious? It’s this guy, 'Tofu,' that we bought at Hongdae. Don’t you think he’s bringing you luck? If we analyze why you suddenly got so much smarter, it has to be him. It’s totally this guy!"
Of course, it was meant as “sharp, occasionally.”
“That’s right. Next time, if I get the chance, I should catch another one just like it.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant... but if you want to, then...”
“Suyeon! Where do you keep wandering off to while eating? You should sit quietly during meals!”
“Oh! I didn’t mean to…”
A noisy dinner.
After finishing a bowl of rice and soup, I brushed my teeth and headed to my room.
Sitting at my desk, I looked at my smartphone. I put ⌜TEST⌟—the recording from the music room—on repeat, and started browsing the internet.
“Where could I use this?”
If Uncle Miller were around, he might have suggested I start by registering it with ASCAP or BMI, the two major music associations in the US.
But since I’m in Korea, that’s not really an option.
In Korea, it seemed a bit complicated for a minor to register copyright. There are quite a few associations I’d have to visit with my parents in tow.
“It doesn’t seem necessary to go that far just yet…”
After all, I hadn’t fully committed to composing yet.
Then again, I didn’t feel entirely comfortable just posting it on YouTube.
I started searching for other options.
I joined various portal sites and pop music communities, skimming through the information there.
And I roughly came up with three conclusions.
First, I could audition and join an agency as a trainee.
But I also have to prepare for the entrance exams for the arts middle school. My schedule is already packed, and a “far more intense” trainee life at an agency would probably be too much. Plus, I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of becoming a trainee.
Second, I could try uploading it to YouTube.
I wasn’t thrilled with this approach either, mainly due to all the copyright issues Uncle Miller had been drumming into my head. But, if it becomes easier to register copyrights down the road, then I can give it a shot.
Third, try entering a composition contest.
From big entertainment companies to small labels, just winning one of these contests can give you a chance to debut. That’s a real advantage, especially since it’s different from just being a trainee.
What caught my eye was the third option.
So, I started looking into composition-related contests.
There were a lot of options.
Public music contests open to anyone, regardless of age.
Broadcast programs offering winners a chance to perform on big stages.
Classical composition competitions aimed at young people, and so on.
Even with just a quick search, I found over 20 contests.
I bookmarked one that stood out.
It wasn’t because the contest was hosted by a big agency or because the prize money was massive; it was that the prize for the excellence award seemed pretty interesting.
Grand Prize (1 winner): 5 million won + chance to release a single and debut.
First Prize (3 winners): 2 million won + support to release a single.
Excellence Award (20 winners): 500,000 won + one-on-one professional feedback.
“Professional feedback, huh…”
The only feedback I’d ever received had been from Uncle Miller, who was always sharp with his criticism. He’d even said I was as good as any decent producer with my skills.
But, you know, he’s bound to be a little biased. Living together on a deserted island, how much harsh feedback could he really give?
I needed a chance to get an objective evaluation of my songs.
It looked like the label hosting this contest was mid-tier in size.
After lurking on a community site where verified employees review their companies, I found that while there was plenty of office politics, the company seemed to treat its artists fairly well.
At the very least, it didn’t look like a place that would deceive people.
So that left me with just one thing.
“I have to... turn this into MIDI…”
I couldn’t just send over a simple piano recording.
As specified in the contest submission guidelines, it had to be “a MIDI-produced file, compressed in WAV or MP3 format and under 30MB.”
I paused the playback of the ⌜TEST⌟ recording file.
Then, I exited the smartphone’s web browser.
Next, I opened the MIDI app.
Although the composition itself was pretty much done, I still needed to do the MIDI work separately.
I carefully moved my hand to tap a single spot in the MIDI app.
“Ugh…”
But because of the tiny smartphone screen, I accidentally hit the MIDI slot right next to the one I wanted.
Now I just had to put in that good old-fashioned “hard work.”
‘Let’s see who wins this—me or you.’
A laborious, repetitive task, as people often say.
I began to input the MIDI notes, one painstaking stroke at a time.
* * *
Lunchtime at Saebom Elementary School.
Once again today, I headed to the old building as usual.
In my pocket was my smartphone; in one hand, a music notebook; in the other, two pieces of bread and a Coolpis drink.
It didn’t get much better than this.
In the morning, I handed in my broken phone to my homeroom teacher and kept my smartphone separately. I found out about this from a classmate next door in exchange for three Jetty snacks.
“These clever little elementary kids…”
At home, I borrowed the broken phone (my mom’s) and that dummy phone was now safely stored in my teacher’s desk drawer.
4560.
The music room with its easy-to-unlock code.
I perched on the piano stool, fiddling with my smartphone.
If I push through today, I think I’ll be able to create the final file.
With a chocolate cream bread in my mouth, I tapped away on my smartphone with my left hand while playing the keyboard with my right.
Whenever lyrics came to mind, I jotted them down beside the sheet music.
“They said I don’t have to write lyrics for the contest… but, well, it’s just how I feel.”
I mumbled to myself as I hummed the song, chewing on my bread.
In this moment alone in the music room, I felt like I wanted for nothing.
* * *
“I’m sorry. Of all times, during lunch.”
“It’s alright. I already finished eating. So, should I just bring two janggu* drums from the old music room?” (T/N: A traditional Korean drum shaped like an hourglass, with two heads that produce distinct sounds.)
“Yes, two is enough. I’d appreciate it.”
“It’s my job, after all.”
“Thanks, Ha-eun. I can always count on the class president!”
After bowing politely to the teacher, Lee Haeun quickly left the classroom.
While walking down the hallway, she noticed a few groups acting suspiciously. Kids were playing rock-paper-scissors. Cheers and sighs could be heard.
What they were exchanging in their hands was…
Jetty.
She didn’t even know who started it first.
"Just like kids, really..."
Lee Ha-eun shook her head.
She didn’t have time to be bothered by things like this.
These days, her mind was occupied with Chopin.
The part Seojin had pointed out last time.
She’d heard the correct way to play it, but her hands simply wouldn’t follow.
"I never expected it to turn out like this..."
Ha-eun thought back to her childhood.
She had been walking down an alley with her parents when she heard the sound of a piano.
The music drifting out from a piano academy was still vivid in her memory.
Back then, she’d thought it was a children’s song, but it was actually Mozart's Variations on ‘Ah vous dirai-je, Maman’ (commonly known as *Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star*).
Ha-eun had stopped in her tracks, captivated by the twelve variations that began after the familiar melody.
The sparkling, twinkling notes.
The variations that were so cheerful they made her smile.
Looking back now, that piano performance from the academy was all over the place.
But at that moment, to Ha-eun, it was Mozart.
Music had started out as pure joy.
Everywhere she went, she was called a prodigy; everyone praised her as a genius.
But at some point, she had gradually begun to fall behind.
One by one, the others raced ahead.
The adults stopped looking at her.
The self once praised as a genius was gone, and the self who had won first place in competitions seven times was also gone.
In the end, she no longer knew what music even was.
And around that time, even her tutor gave up on her.
“If you don’t like the piano, try something else. You’re a bright kid, after all. There’s no need to cling to it so painfully.”
“...”
Ha-eun momentarily stopped in her tracks.
The memory of that time came rushing back, and her fists clenched tightly.
The teacher who walked away from her.
Maybe that’s what sparked her determination.
She used to be good at it.
She knew she could do it, too.
There was another child, on the other hand, who played on silently despite the indifference of adults. A child she ran into at every competition, a child she eventually became friends with because they went to the same academy.
Seojin was always passionate.
He practiced even when he made mistakes, and he kept practicing even when he didn’t place in competitions.
So, one day, Ha-eun asked him.
“Why do you keep playing the piano so much? No one acknowledges you.”
Seojin’s answer hit Ha-eun like a blow.
“Because it’s fun. Why do you play the piano? Don’t you enjoy it? You’re the strange one.”
Han Seo-jin had passion.
Maybe that was it.
After the accident in Singapore, Han Seojin became someone far better at the piano than Ha-eun.
She didn’t feel jealous of that.
The person who knew best what kind of life Han Seojin had endured was none other than Lee Ha-eun herself.
But aside from that, she wanted recognition again.
She wanted to be acknowledged once more by the teacher who had left her.
She wanted to stand before that teacher in Seolhwa once again.
Because only then could she truly become a pianist.
Only then could she become famous.
Han Seojin didn't matter.
He was a misfit from the start.
No one could handle a misfit.
In that case, she just needed to leave him be and follow her own path.
Lee Ha-eun stepped into the old building’s first floor.
But in this place, where she thought no one would be, she heard the sound of a piano.
It was a genre of music she didn’t recognize. It definitely wasn’t classical.
As she moved closer to the music room in the old building, the sound grew louder. Standing in front of the door, she lifted herself slightly on her toes to peek inside. She could barely make out the interior.
Inside, someone was playing the piano. They looked incredibly at ease, almost as if they were arrogantly chewing on something while playing.
And yet...
Though she didn’t fully understand it...
The music was good.
A melody that tickled the heart.
The sentimental tune suddenly shifted to one of passion.
And to top it off, the words the person mumbled while chewing on something—
At that moment, Lee Ha-eun couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
'Wow, I didn’t know music could be done like that.'
For Lee Ha-eun, who had been focused on just one path, it felt like a whole new world.
'But... did we have anyone at our school doing practical music?'
She pressed her toes down a bit harder, trying to see who it was.
And then, at that moment.
The musician turned around.
Lee Ha-eun felt her breath catch.
Without thinking, she instinctively crouched down.
So that the person in the music room wouldn’t see her.
The performance came to a smooth end.
And the door to the music room creaked open.
* * *
"Whoa!"
"Whoa!"
Startled!
The girl crouched down began to hiccup.
Hiccup! She made a sound like a frog.
When I looked closer, I realized I recognized her.
I couldn’t help but complain a bit.
"Hey. You almost gave me a heart attack. I thought you were a ghost, just a head floating around!"
Lee Ha-eun stared intently at my face for a while.
"Han Seojin...?"
"What?"
"No, it's just... what are you doing here?"
"I was hanging out. But, wow, you're really small, aren't you? From here, seeing you in the hallway, no one would recognize you. Just a floating head."
"…Hey."
"Hmm?"
"Say I'm short one more time. Then I'll definitely bite you."
"…."
I got a bit nervous at Lee Ha-eun's sharp tone.
I just said it without thinking.
Does she really hate being called short?
Well... if that's the case, as an adult, I should probably apologize.
"Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way."
"…Are you mocking me?"
"No, I'm serious. I’m sorry. And honestly, you're not that short. You’ll grow in no time anyway. So, shall you stand up?"
"…."
Lee Ha-eun took my outstretched hand and stood up with a strong pull, then asked me,
"So, how do you know the code to this place?"
"I’ve got my sources at school."
"…?"
"Ahem! So, what brings you here?"
"I'm here on an errand from the teacher. But what are *you* doing here?"
"I was playing the piano."
"No, that's not what I meant!"
A deeply frustrated expression.
I have no idea why.
“You! Why… are you playing that kind of music? What about classical?”
“I do classical too. But I also play this kind of music.”
“That’s not it… no, so then…!”
For a moment, it looked like her brain circuits had shorted out.
Thankfully, she snapped back to normal quickly.
“Aren’t you being too greedy? Just preparing one Chopin piece for the entrance exam is enough to make my head explode!”
“I’m just doing it on the side. The comparison might be a bit odd, but, you know, people can’t live on rice alone. I do classical, and I do popular music too.”
“That’s… well, that’s betrayal!”
“What am I betraying?”
“Classical music.”
“I’ve never betrayed it. I’m working really hard on it.”
“Liar!”
“I’m serious. Lately, I’ve even been renting a grand piano practice room to practice.”
“…”
“So, what did you come here for again? You said it was an errand from the teacher?”
“Oh, right! The janggu drum!”
Ha-eun shot me a sharp glance, then went into the music room. She looked around for a bit and spots the janggu drum on top of a bookshelf.
But...
“…”
She’s way too short to reach it.
"That thing really is small."
Having no other choice, I dragged over a chair and took down the janggu for her.
"See? Being tall is helpful sometimes, right? How’s that?"
"You... I’m seriously about to bite you!"
"Hey, I didn’t say you were small, did I?"
"That’s exactly what you meant!"
Lee Ha-eun growled.
But after taking the janggu, she still managed to thank me.
"So, do you usually use this here? For playing piano?"
"Something like that. Just don’t tell the teacher, okay?"
"..."
Oh? She knows the basics of negotiation. I pulled two packets of Jetty from my pocket and held them out. Ha-eun looked at me like she didn’t understand.
"What?"
"A true master of negotiation, huh? Well then, I’ll offer three this time."
"What are you even talking about?"
"Think of it as a bribe, maybe? Just take it."
"*Sigh.* I don’t need that kind of thing, alright? What’s so great about it anyway? All it’ll do is make me gain weight."
Oh?
Annoyed by her dismissal of Jetty, I casually added a little comment.
"But it might help you grow taller."
"Hey!"
Ha-eun blew up in anger, and in the end, I had to hand over three packets of Jetty as a peace offering.
Then, I wrapped up the matter.
"Starting tomorrow, I’ll make sure not to use this place. It's against the school rules, right? I should probably follow them too."
“…As long as you understand.”
“But can you look the other way just for today?”
“Well… I suppose.”
This was a smooth negotiation, all things considered.
At least the Jetty had worked.
Lee Ha-eun waddled along, carrying two large drums that were almost as big as she was. After finally squeezing through the door, she paused and asked me.
“By the way, what was that song just now?”
“Song?”
“You know, the one you were playing. I thought maybe I'd actually like to hear more of it. It sounded... not too bad.”
I had to take a moment to think about how to answer.
Then, I realized there was no need to lie to a kid.
“It’s just a piece I composed.”
“…You composed it?”
“The title is ⌜TEST⌟. There’s no official track yet, though—I’m still finishing it up.”
“…”
“That explanation should be enough, right?”
“…”
“And keep it a secret from others, okay? I haven’t told anyone I’m composing yet.”
“…”
Lee Ha-eun’s expression was a whirlwind of emotions. I could sense her hesitating over how to put her thoughts into words, even though it would’ve been easier to just say them. Kids these days, their vocabulary is something else.
Lee Ha-eun let out a long sigh before finally speaking.
"Just now... your song was good. I hesitated because I couldn't believe you composed it. But, from now on, focus more on classical music! Got it? You used to be someone who loved Mozart! So show some respect for Mozart! We’re in the classical camp, remember?"
"…?"
What on earth is she talking about?
"Anyway! Show some respect. I'm leaving now. And if you ever call me short again, just try it. I won’t let it slide!"
Lee Ha-eun continued to ramble on.
She really is a unique character.
She left one more parting remark before finally disappearing from the music room.
"But... if you just keep this place tidy from now on... I'll keep my mouth shut too. So make sure you clean up."
"…."
It felt like a storm had just passed through.
Luckily, my unrestricted access to the old music room still seemed to be intact.
I stared at the door she exited through for a while, then hurriedly started moving.
There were only two minutes left until class started.
* * *
That night.
I finally managed to finish the MIDI work on my smartphone.
A huge leap forward!
This was a monumental step for any person!
"Phew."
At any rate, it was done.
I connected my smartphone to my PC and transferred the WAV file.
Then, I opened Gmail and composed a message according to the required format.
A contest conducted anonymously to ensure fairness.
The only personal information I provided was my email address and phone number.
After reviewing it several times, I finally hit the send button.
A composition contest hosted by Moonlight, a well-known mid-sized record label in South Korea.
It was the moment my song left my hands for the first time.
