Into The Thrill

"Can I try playing it?"

"No, um, mother."
She wedged the chinrest between her jaw and shoulder and, unfortunately, picked up the main bow without tuning it and just drew it across the G string. Hyun Woojin's mother quickly lifted the bow from the string, looking at Haewon in surprise.
"It sounds different because it's for professionals."

Playing with a loosened bow could never produce a proper sound. The noise that emanated was raspy, not even resembling a note, but she pretended to be startled. It was clear she had never handled a violin before.
She smiled and carefully placed Haewon's violin and bow back in their rightful places. She also returned a scattered Brahms score to its original spot in the first zipper.
"Do you play Brahms' Violin Concerto as a hobby?"

It was evident she knew his lies were flimsy. Haewon had never felt nervous performing in front of a thousand people, but now his throat was dry. Excluding the intense auditions at Yewon School, it had been a long time since his back was this stiff and sweaty.
"I apologize. Not a junior... actually, that is, the prosecutor is handling my case."
"......"

As she looked at him guardedly, Haewon hastily waved his hands to deny it.
"No, I'm not a criminal. I'm a victim, but there were some complications, so the prosecutor helped me out, told me to hide out here."
"Ah."

Hyun Woojin's mother seemed to finally understand, as if she had gained a deep insight. He should have stuck with the first lie. Sweat ran down his back.
"What case is it?"
"I've been receiving threats from someone like a stalker, so I've been bothering the prosecutor. I'm sorry."

"......"
"I apologize for lying too. I lied in case it might put the prosecutor in a difficult position."
Haewon bowed respectfully with his hands together as he apologized. Hyun Woojin's mother then asked if everything was alright now. Haewon nodded.

"The prosecutor took care of it, but I'm quite sensitive. I was scared and terrified, so I came here without thinking, and he wasn’t here. I had nowhere else to go, and he said I could stay here for a day, so that’s what happened."
"You should have told me earlier. I thought I was dealing with a burglar. Are you a violinist?"
"Yes."
"Can you prove it?"

"Excuse me?"
"Prove that you're a violinist. I need to check if this isn’t stolen."
Wouldn’t it be easier just to report a burglar? Haewon looked at her oddly as she seemed to consider his earlier statement a lie and began to pull out her phone, presumably to dial 112.

What I said must have sounded absurd. It would have been more convincing if I were a stalker who had spied on Hyun Woojin's door code and sneaked into his house while he was away, then got caught sleeping in his bed by his unexpectedly appearing mother.
"Just a moment."
As he asked her not to call anyone, she stared at him sharply, as if warning him not to mess around. If it had been a real stalker situation, he could have just pushed past the powerless middle-aged woman and run away, but he couldn’t escape because she was holding his violin hostage.

So that’s why she suddenly wanted to see the violin.
She must have suspected it was stolen. He took back what he said about her not resembling Hyun Woojin. She was definitely Hyun Woojin's mother.
"I’ll just have a glass of water and then I'll play."

Haewon's mouth was dry with tension. Hyun Woojin's mother fetched a bottle of water from the refrigerator and set it on the distant dining table. Haewon sighed, took the bottle, and drank deeply. Wiping his wet lips with the back of his hand, he then took the violin and bow out of the case.
He set up the shoulder rest and secured the violin between his chin and shoulder, tuning it. He adjusted the pitch of the G, D, E, and A strings by ear, aiming for perfect accuracy despite the slight off-tune sounds indicating possible damage from the cold weather. It seemed like an issue that would require a professional technician. After spending quite some time tuning, she sharply asked why he hadn't started playing yet.
It wasn’t stalling; the tuning just wasn’t precise due to an issue with the instrument. Haewon was about to play when he stopped the bow just as it touched the strings and turned to her. She flinched as he looked at her.

"Is there anything specific you'd like to hear?"
"Something specific?"
"If there’s something you’d like, I’ll play that."

"I don’t know much about music. I’m a science person. But that doesn’t mean I can’t tell a violinist from a thief."
So the talk about playing the violin for charity was also a spur-of-the-moment lie, or rather, a falsehood.
"Then I’ll play anything."

He was about to play just anything when her voice rang out.
"Play the hardest piece you know."
"Excuse me?"

"Play a high-difficulty piece. Something only a professional could play."
"Alright."
Haewon chose Paganini's Caprice No. 24, a showcase of various violin techniques across eleven variations, including trills, double stops, and left-hand pizzicato, creating the illusion of a duet between two violins.

The technique required not just intricate finger work but precise bowing skills. Without accurate execution, it was hard to distinguish whether the sounds produced were music or mere noise.
Committed to proving his ownership of the violin, Haewon found himself playing Caprice No. 24 at seven in the morning.
He started with the familiar theme, a passage that every serious violinist had to master, although performing it perfectly was another story.

Haewon was often called a reincarnation of Ruggiero Ricci, so engrossed was he in that virtuoso’s performances that he had managed to complete all 24 caprices during his conservatory days.
His fingers swiftly moved across the fingerboard, faster than his eyes or ears could follow.
Caprice No. 24 progressed through its eleven variations, demanding breathless bowing speeds. Haewon pressed his lips tightly as he played, his fingers nearly freezing in the chilly morning air.

The violin's high register required incredibly close finger spacing, making the sections with continuous triple stops demand intense concentration and precise finger placement.
As he plucked the strings for the left-hand pizzicato, considerable force was required in his fingers, especially the weaker fourth and pinky fingers, which also had to perform trills.
After finally completing the dazzling pizzicato, he pressed the bow down as if to break the strings.

The four minutes it took to play seemed to pass in a blink.
"Ah..."
He had made several mistakes. The double trills went wrong twice. A flawless performance was practically impossible, especially this early in the morning, but to have played at all was an achievement.

Haewon sighed with exhaustion and turned to see the woman staring at him.
"Ah."
He had performed in front of Hyun Woojin's mother. Once he finished a piece, he often felt like half his mind had slipped away. What he had done before, what he planned to do next—everything turned black.

"This is really my violin. It's not stolen. I have the insurance certificate."
"I'm sorry. I apologize. I'll make it up to you."
Hyun Woojin's mother suddenly bowed deeply, causing Haewon to bow even lower, nearly kneeling.

"No, don't. It’s my fault for lying."
"I don’t know much, but that was an incredible performance."
The way she looked at him now differed from her earlier suspicious gaze. It was like seeing a completely different person, as if she questioned whether Haewon was even from the same planet.

"I find prosecutors more amazing. You mean to say he studied all these books?"
Haewon found Hyun Woojin more astonishing. He pointed at the bookshelf filled with titles he couldn't even read properly.
"These are just some of his books. He has even more at home. Those are just the ones he uses frequently."

"Just the frequently used ones? That doesn’t make him seem any more human."
"I’m always amazed by musicians. How do you play so well?"
"I’ve done nothing but this."

"Would I be able to do that if I just ate and practiced?"
"That would be difficult."
"Exactly, that's what I'm saying."

Haewon enjoyed a breakfast prepared by Hyun Woojin's mother and then left his officetel.
The weather had warmed, making the morning pleasant. He should inform him in advance to prevent any issues, but he could only stare at his phone, unable to make the call.
Even sitting in the taxi on his way home, Haewon just stared at his phone. He wasn't the type to confess straightforwardly to Hyun Woojin’s mother about their actual relationship, but if they didn't coordinate their stories and Hyun Woojin happened to call his mother, misunderstandings could arise. He might even be told never to come to the officetel again.

Hyun Woojin’s mother had turned into a classical music enthusiast from that day on, even taking Haewon's autograph, which wasn’t very famous—so this wasn't something that could just be casually dismissed.
Her name was Choi Hyun-mi. “To Ms. Choi Hyun-mi,” she had insisted, so he ended up knowing his mother’s name unintentionally.
He felt like he was going to be scolded. "Why did you go there? If you met my mother, you should have just made something up and left. Why did you do such a pointless thing?" Explaining the inexplicable to Hyun Woojin, who valued logic and causality, was going to be awkward.

Perhaps it would be better to just be honest and clear his conscience. Haewon called him. Lately, he had been the one to initiate their calls.
"I'm in a meeting."
"Call me when you’re free."

"Why?"
Hyun Woojin asked with a short answer that could chill any conversation.
"I met Ms. Choi Hyun-mi."

"What?"
"Ms. Choi Hyun-mi, your mother."
"What are you talking about?"

It sounded like he stood up and walked somewhere quieter to talk.
"Mother? Why did you meet our mother?"
"I was caught at your officetel."

"You went to my officetel?"
"I was just walking nearby, didn’t feel like going home, so I just slept there."
"She came in the morning?"

"Yeah, with some side dishes."
"Did you greet her properly?"
"I did."

"Alright, then."
"Aren’t you going to ask if something happened?"
"If you greeted her properly, that’s fine. I’ll call you back later."

Hyun Woojin didn’t inquire further and ended the call as if it was no big deal. Haewon felt foolish for worrying and being overly sensitive about it. He reproached himself, fearing he had done something Hyun Woojin would dislike.
It was undeniable. Haewon was falling deeper for him.
∞ ∞ ∞

The violin sounded a bit off when he performed in front of Ms. Choi Hyun-mi that morning. The capricious spring weather and lack of maintenance had caused the pitch to keep dropping. Winter had passed, and it was already spring—a time that required especially careful maintenance.
Haewon took his violin to a luthier. The engineer suggested that the sound post might have slightly shifted due to humidity and temperature, which could affect the balance.
After leaving his violin at the shop and returning home, it was already evening. Just thinking about going back to pick up the violin in a few days made him dread the impending boredom. He unlocked his door and entered.

Someone was sitting on the darkened living room sofa. It was Hyun Woojin. He sat with his arms crossed, asleep on the sofa.
"......"
A mix of joy and surprise overwhelmed him, and he carefully moved to avoid waking him. He drew the curtains to block the light from the building across the street. Hyun Woojin was in a deep sleep, judging by his even breathing.

He seemed deep in thought, his brows furrowed and in an uncomfortable position. Haewon quietly observed his face, gently sweeping the hair from his forehead to the side, easing an awkward parting.
Suppressing a burst of laughter, he took out his phone and started taking pictures of Hyun Woojin’s face from various angles. Each click of the shutter made his forehead twitch slightly.
He sat down cautiously next to him. Haewon pushed Hyun Woojin’s rigid shoulder slightly backward. His arms, firmly crossed, relaxed, and he leaned back deeply into the sofa. His head slowly tilted towards Haewon.

His lips were right there. The calm but distinct features struck him anew. Ms. Choi Hyun-mi didn’t resemble him at all upon reflection. The deep shadows cast by his high nose bridge, even ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ with his eyes closed, gave off a sharp intelligence.
Haewon breathed quietly, feeling the temperature of those lips so close to his own. Hyun Woojin’s breaths, drawn through his nose, touched Haewon’s skin.
He wanted to ask, "Why are you here sitting like this, as if you’re stuck or desperate?" He wanted to wake him and ask why he didn’t react to meeting Ms. Choi Hyun-mi, why he didn’t scold him for going there, why he acted like it was normal to meet someone he was supposed to meet.

He wanted to ask if he was here just to fulfill a physiological need, if he still couldn’t forget his fiancée. Then what was Haewon to him? Haewon had so many questions he wanted to ask him.
He silently indulged his growing desperation for Hyun Woojin. He pacified the beast within. He let go of the unanswered and unanswerable, knowing now was the time. Like music carried by the wind, it was time to let go of useless, consuming emotions.
Haewon tilted his face slightly, touching his lips. The moist warmth was just right. Their breaths mingled. A warm sensation started at his heart and spread lazily through his body.

His lips and breath, the temperature of Hyun Woojin awakened something intimate and tender within Haewon. It was warm and pleasant, yet a part of his heart felt cold.
After finishing his shower, he woke up to find Hyun Woojin already awake. He sat in the same pose as before, arms crossed, looking tired. Then Hyun Woojin asked him.
"When did you get here? You should have woken me up."

"I thought you were tired, so I just let you be. Go sleep in the bed."
Even though he looked good sitting up, it seemed hard to digest. He walked past Haewon into the bathroom. He hesitated as he looked in the mirror.
After washing his face with cold water, he emerged, messing up the neat parting Haewon had made, his gaze

upon him but saying nothing.
"Aren’t you going to ask about Ms. Choi Hyun-mi?"
"You said you greeted her."

"So it’s okay for a strange man to be found in your officetel bed by your mother?"
"You were supposed to go straight home yesterday."
He recalled Hyun Woojin telling him to go home and sleep it off if he had been drinking.

Haewon sat on the bed, pressing his wet hair with a towel. Hyun Woojin came over, took the towel from Haewon’s hand, and began drying his hair for him. Haewon leaned his forehead against the man’s stomach. He wrapped his arms around his waist.
As he dried off the moisture in his hair, he said, speaking as his stomach vibrated. "What did she say?"
Curious after all, he finally asked.

"I got caught lying about being a school junior, and lying about being a victim in a case handled by the prosecutor."
"You covered it up well. Neither is a lie."
His quick-thinking in such a short moment impressed Hyun Woojin, who rubbed Haewon’s head vigorously.

"Ouch."
Haewon grimaced and looked up. Resting his chin on his stomach, he strained to look up at Hyun Woojin, whose distant eyes he met.
"So how did you get past it?"

"I played Paganini's Caprice No. 24. She treated my violin like stolen goods. Told me to prove it wasn’t by playing the hardest piece I could. So yeah, I knew then, that's definitely Hyun Woojin's mom."
His lips smiled. He swept back the wet hair from Haewon’s forehead, making his forehead bright and clear. Haewon stood up, still holding his waist, now almost eye to eye with him.