Into The Thrill

Realizing that Hyun Woojin remembered the age of his deceased fiancée and was conscious of it somehow made Haewon feel lonely. It wasn't Haewon, but someone else who was embedded in his heart like shards of glass. He had never heard Woojin talk about his fiancée.

"What are you thinking about so deeply?"
"Huh?"
"What are you thinking about? And why have you lost so much weight? Are you starving yourself?"

"Just skipped meals because it was bothersome, seems I lost some weight."
Haewon brushed off his cheek nonchalantly. The stepmother looked at him as if something was strange. Reacting sharply to her words and retaliating with even harsher ones had become the routine whenever stepmother and Haewon met.
"Have lunch before you go. It's already prepared, don't skip it."

"I came intending to eat."
Haewon, feeling drained, stretched out on the sofa, leaning his neck against it. Even though it was unpleasant, being home made him feel at ease. The stepmother not mincing words and still speaking harshly felt comforting in its consistency. The master bedroom door opened slightly, and Haejeong peeked out and looked at him. Haewon tapped the seat next to him on the sofa, signaling the child to come over. Haejeong quickly opened the door and ran to him.
"Haejeong, be careful, you might fall!"

The stepmother scolded, but Haejeong ran straight into Haewon's arms. She trimmed the flowers, pouting her lips.
"Since when did you two get so close?"
"Since you two were taken away by the prosecutors."

"What kind of misfortune is that? Anyway, there's a lot wrong with our country's judiciary. They arrest innocent people and shake them down until something sticks. With all the guilty people around, they harass the wrong ones. I asked if it's illegal for your father to set up another household, and they say it's not. Gender equality is in the constitution as a social norm but not legally binding. If it's extramarital, it's better to divide the assets beforehand in case of disputes..."
She rambled on, then fell silent. She herself was an extramarital affair, and Haejeong, whom Haewon was holding, was born out of wedlock. Yet, the stepmother was worried about another extramarital affair her father might have.
"Who said that?"

"Who else, the prosecutor said so. He said it would go to the son from the first marriage, whatever. I just need to get by as long as I can feed Haejeong. I haven’t laid a finger on your father’s wealth."
"......"
"I was so pressed by their questioning that I almost spilled everything your father has done. But that prosecutor was quite handsome. Quite a feast for my eyes."

It meant Hyun Woojin knew roughly about Haewon's complicated family situation.
Haewon had lied to Eun Young that he was a runaway college student, staying at his apartment because he disliked entering his home. Hyun Woojin already knew why he detested going home, constantly dealing with his father’s long-standing issues.
Haewon probably disliked the stepmother and his father, who incessantly brought women home, viewing Haewon as if he were a child.
Embarrassed, Haewon’s face heated up, and he rubbed it with his dry palms.

"Ma'am, the meal is ready."
"Are you going to eat?"
"I said I would. Haejeong, let’s go."

Haewon took Haejeong’s hand and headed to the kitchen.
After lunch, Haewon left his family home with a farewell from the stepmother and Haejeong. The stepmother seemed concerned about having casually mentioned the sensitive topic of extramarital asset division. Until Haewon left, she continued to stress how pitiful she and Haejeong were.
His father would likely never divide his assets until his death, and the stepmother would probably continue to watch his face and burn with jealousy at her age. Haewon felt sorry for Haejeong but not so much for the stepmother.

The practice room was empty on the holiday. Haewon swiped his card and disarmed the security. He entered, feeling a chill, and turned on the heater. After hanging up his coat, Haewon waited for the air to warm and did push-ups on the floor. Last year, he could easily do thirty, but now his muscles trembled as he passed twenty. Barely managing to complete twenty-two, he stood up.
The room heated up, but Haewon felt warmth emanating from his body first. He looked at his reflection in the practice room mirror. Without weighing himself, it was hard to tell if he had lost or gained weight, but he seemed a bit thinner. It was inevitable.
Hyun Woojin’s bi-daily visits were so exhausting that Haewon could hardly sleep. There was no warning when he would come and go; he arrived when he wanted and left when he was busy. Not knowing when Woojin would visit, Haewon couldn't go anywhere and had to stay holed up in his officetel.

There were times he went out, causing Woojin to wait, which transformed him into a strange and frightening Woojin. Once, he left Haewon unable to move all day from the ordeal, so naturally, Haewon started reporting his daily activities to him. He even texted in advance where he would be for lunch and in the afternoon today.
Haewon took out his violin, replaced the slightly loose G and A strings, and tuned them. After applying rosin to the bow and tightening the bow hair, he placed the violin on his shoulder and warmed up his hands with basic techniques.
He began practicing with Paganini's Caprices, an étude for violin techniques. He knew the piece by heart, and the complex fingering and high technical demands helped his senses recover quickly.

The session was disrupted by an irritating sound, and Haewon opened his eyes. He was so focused when playing that he often entered a trance, oblivious to his surroundings. There were times he played six pieces in a row without realizing Hyun Woojin was watching. Woojin would sit in the best spot to enjoy the performance without making a sound.
Breathing heavily, Haewon lowered the violin from his shoulder. His chin and shoulder hurt, and his arms were sore. Sweat seeped from his forehead.
"Why did you stop?"

Seok Hwa stood in front of him.
It was someone Hyun Woojin had introduced him to on the evening of a regular performance. Thinking Haewon liked Henry Chang, Woojin had wanted to introduce him personally and had brought Haewon to a pre-arranged dinner, introducing him as his junior.
It was one of the few endearing things he did, keeping it a secret to surprise him.

The irritating sound was coming from the bracelet on Seok Hwa's wrist. She was turning it around like a rosary, making clicking noises with her other hand.
"Hello."
Haewon bowed politely. Seok Hwa gestured to a man who seemed to be one of the foundation directors to leave, and only the sound of the heater remained when the man left the practice room.

"Coming here to practice on your day off? That's quite cute."
"Excuse me?"
"You were quite arrogant back then, but you turned out to be a hidden talent. Want to try entering competitions now? No, you can’t, you’re too old now. People would say it's all show. Your mask is okay. What was your name again?"

Seok Hwa's scarf fluttered in the breeze from the heater.
"Moon Haewon."
"Your arpeggios are excellent. Unique variations and explosive expressiveness too. Yeah, not bad. But still no match for Henry Chang. He won first place in Wieniawski at fifteen. He’s a genius. You are, well… a semi-genius, kid."

Haewon wasn't sure whether to be thankful for the brutally honest review or offended enough to storm out. But seeing the sparkle in her eyes, it seemed his performance wasn't too bad.
"Thank you for the compliment."
"Still, you're sexier than Henry Chang. His proportions aren't great. Simply put, the visuals, he lacks visuals. Hey, you've been called sexy before, right? I can tell you feel a lot when you play. Is your sensibility that rich?"

"It only comes out when I play. I'm not usually like that."
"Musicians are always a bit off."
"Didn’t you study opera, ma'am?"

At Haewon's comment, she laughed heartily, acknowledging her forgetfulness.
"Oh, my mind, look at it. Actually, I came out today because I wanted to cut you from the roster. No matter how much you're Woojin's junior, I can’t tolerate such rudeness."
Haewon knelt and loosely attached the bow to the first slot of the violin case. He wiped off the rosin dust settled on the violin and placed it into the case while speaking.

"I looked up Seok Hwa on video."
"What? When?"
"It's been a while."

He had found videos of Seok Hwa while idly browsing at an internet café. He didn't listen to everything, just the highlights of one or two songs. Afterwards, he wasted time looking for clothes he wanted to buy for Hyun Woojin, and despite doing nothing wrong, he was chased out by a police officer.
"That was Vivaldi, right? Truly, there’s no peace in the world, right?"
"Did you listen to that?"

"Yes. I wanted to find whoever sang it and just make them sing. I had no idea that woman, no, madam, was the one. If I had a voice like that, I wouldn’t have gotten married. Some people have to serve humanity, you know. Talent is like a gift from God."
Haewon was sincere. If he had such a voice and such talent, he would not have married. A genius is a gift from the heavens and should contribute to humanity. Countless geniuses had done so, and such talent rightfully belonged to humanity. And humanity should pay tribute to such geniuses, for they beautify and enrich the world, not with material goods, but with their traces encountered everywhere.
The echoes of Rachmaninoff's concertos streaming from a café, the Creation of Adam by Michelangelo that he had craned his neck to see in the Sistine Chapel, the overwhelming beauty of the Sagrada Familia that Gaudí had dedicated to the God who gave him his talent, and the record of Horowitz’s live performance in Moscow in 1986.

Seok Hwa was silent. She seemed to be holding something back, fanning her face as if it were hot. A talented woman had fallen in love with a man, had his child, and then had to quit music. And that child grew up to be engaged to Hyun Woojin and died at the age of twenty-nine.
Hyun Woojin had buried his fiancée in his heart. The number twenty-nine had been etched into his brain. Haewon had suddenly become twenty-nine.
"Hey, I'm not that uptight. I’m cool. I acknowledge arrogance born of talent, so don’t suck up when it doesn’t suit you."

"How do you know Hyun Woojin? He’s never mentioned soprano Seok Hwa to me. I wouldn’t have made that mistake if I had known earlier."
Haewon zipped up his violin case as he asked casually. His heart raced. Seok Hwa's heels clicked as she approached. He straightened his knees and stood up. Seok Hwa looked up at Haewon.
"Woojin is practically family to us. We've been close since we were kids. Woojin's father has been the chief doctor at our hospital for twenty years."

So they had known each other since childhood.
That’s why they continued to be close even after the fiancée had gone through that ordeal. After all, it wasn’t Hyun Woojin’s fault. He remembered hearing that both his paternal and maternal families were doctors. And at that time, Hyun Woojin had lied to the police that his sister was preparing for art school admissions. He himself had been interrogated as a witness because Taeshin had made many missed calls to him. It was an inappropriate relationship to disclose the truth about. In any case, Hyun Woojin was a man of special status. Taeshin had liked him, and for a while, Hyun Woojin had reciprocated his feelings genuinely.
"Did I interrupt your practice?"

"I was just warming up to leave. Am I being fired?"
"It was a joke. You can't easily cut people off for such things these days. I have a face to maintain at the board of directors; I can't just ask them to fire someone for disrespecting me."
"That makes sense."

Haewon wanted to ask about Hyun Woojin’s deceased fiancée but couldn’t bring himself to dig into the wounds of a mother who had lost her daughter. Still curious, he hesitated. He was curious about Hyun Woojin's past.
"And you're actually quite good. I thought you were all talk, but you’ve got skills."
"I'm not a kid. I'm twenty-nine."

"Yeah, not a kid. Are you going home? Want a ride? Did you bring your car?"
A few kind words, and Seok Hwa nonchalantly hooked her arm through Haewon's, asking affectionately. It was an awkward kindness. Haewon awkwardly extracted his arm from her grip. She, unfazed, wrapped her arm around him more firmly. The scent of her floral perfume tickled his nose.
"No, I can go by myself."

"Don't be like that. Let this old lady take you."
"It's really okay."
"It's not spring yet. There’s a cold snap today; it’s too cold outside. You're a musician; your body is your instrument, isn’t it? Managing your condition is basic for a pro."

Haewon reluctantly got into the luxury sedan. Seok Hwa asked for his address next to him. He roughly told the location to what seemed like her chauffeur, who nodded and started the car.
"Is it okay if I call you Haewon?"
"No, that’s a bit uncomfortable."

"Why, we fought, didn’t we? Well, we didn’t actually fight, but we had a disagreement."
"It wasn’t a fight. I was just yelled at."
"I’ll casually call you Haewon then. You can call me madam, too."

"Have you not received compliments in a long time?"
It was just a few words of praise. Yet, Seok Hwa, who had been looking at him condescendingly, suddenly became a different person, acting friendly. Haewon was very disconcerted by her transformation.
"I got a bit too excited, hearing such things after so long. Too long, too..., uh."

Suddenly, Seok Hwa burst into tears. The secretary in the driver's seat quickly handed several tissues back to her. Haewon handed the bundle of tissues to Seok Hwa. Unable to calm her sudden outburst, she cried for quite some time.
Makeup smeared and black stains spread on the tissue. The secretary glanced back at the rear seat through the rearview mirror, his eyes meeting Haewon's in confusion. Without asking what was wrong—as it wasn’t his place—Haewon shook his head, indicating he knew nothing. After more than ten minutes, Seok Hwa finally stopped crying.
"My daughter… Hayoung used to say that. Mom has such a beautiful voice, so pretty that she should keep singing, that it's a gift from God, a talent that should be

used for the human world. That's what our Hayoung used to say. Uh."
"……"
She used almost an entire box of Kleenex. Even though they had arrived at the officetel, she didn’t seem ready to get out of the car, and Haewon sat quietly. The secretary also kept the engine running and looked solemnly downward.

"I’m sorry. I got too emotional. Sorry, Manager Kang."
"It's okay. Don’t worry about it."
The secretary responded politely. After wiping under her eyes thoroughly in the mirror, Seok Hwa, with most ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) of her makeup gone, looked like an ordinary middle-aged woman of her age.

"You said the same thing as my daughter."
"Yeah, I guess I did. I was surprised earlier. It reminded me of Hayoung."
"You should ask people to say it often. It’s not a difficult thing."

"I wish I could. Really, I wish I could. But she’s gone to heaven first, and now even if I want to hear it, I can’t."
It seemed she was about to cry again. After managing to control her emotions, the secretary handed her a bottle of water, which she drank half of immediately. She seemed lost in thought. Haewon also sat silently.
After a while, Seok Hwa tried to lighten the mood, her voice now firm.

"I overreacted because I suddenly thought of my daughter. Surprised you, huh? I’m not usually like this."
"I shouldn’t have said that. I must have touched a sore spot. I’m sorry."
"No, it's not your fault. And stop with the formalities. Just call me aunty."

"Have you really not heard such praise in a long time?"
A few words of praise were all it took. Yet, Seok Hwa, who had previously looked at him disparagingly, changed faces like putting on a mask and pretended to be friendly. Haewon was deeply disconcerted by her transformation.
"Maybe I got too excited hearing that after so long. Too long, too..., sob."

Seok Hwa suddenly burst into tears. The secretary in the driver's seat quickly handed several tissues back to her. Haewon handed the bundle of tissues to Seok Hwa. Unable to calm her sudden outburst, she cried for quite some time.
Makeup smeared and black stains spread on the tissue. The secretary glanced back at the rear seat through the rearview mirror, his eyes meeting Haewon's in confusion. Without asking what was wrong—as it wasn’t his place—Haewon shook his head, indicating he knew nothing. After more than ten minutes, Seok Hwa finally stopped crying.
"My daughter… Hayoung used to say that. Mom has such a beautiful voice, so pretty that she should keep singing, that it's a gift from God, a talent that should be used for the human world. That's what our Hayoung used to say. Uh."

"……"
She used almost an entire box of Kleenex. Even though they had arrived at the officetel, she didn’t seem ready to get out of the car, and Haewon sat quietly. The secretary also kept the engine running and looked solemnly downward.
"I’m sorry. I got too emotional. Sorry, Manager Kang."

"It's okay. Don’t worry about it."
The secretary responded politely. After wiping under her eyes thoroughly in the mirror, Seok Hwa, with most of her makeup gone, looked like an ordinary middle-aged woman of her age.
"You said the same thing as my daughter."

"Yeah, I guess I did. I was surprised earlier. It reminded me of Hayoung."
"You should ask people to say it often. It’s not a difficult thing."
"I wish I could. Really, I wish I could. But she’s gone to heaven first, and now even if I want to hear it, I can’t."

It seemed she was about to cry again. After managing to control her emotions, the secretary handed her a bottle of water, which she drank half of immediately. She seemed lost in thought. Haewon also sat silently.
After a while, Seok Hwa tried to lighten the mood, her voice now firm.
"It's a relief. I guess you won't be reminded of your daughter when you see me."

"I'm not usually one to cry so much," Seok Hwa said awkwardly.
It was a relief. Somehow, it was a relief. Haewon didn't want to be a shadow of Hyun Woojin's deceased fiancée. Although he was relieved to learn that she had neither played the violin nor resembled him, Haewon still felt a melancholic heaviness settling over him.