God of Piano

From noble mtl dot com

“Oh, is it bad?”

“No, it’s because I said it wrong. It’s never too bad Rather, it was very good. No, there is no need to speak at length like this. Listen.”

“Wow, are you really okay?”

Almost all piano students now know about Rowoon. Because of that, when Rowoon is in the practice building, other students point to him and say, “Is that him?” “Yes.” I couldn’t help but hear it often.

As interest in him increased, the story that he was preparing for an audition to participate in a music festival had to spread quickly. what day it was Heather stormed into Rowoon’s practice room and sat down. When Rowoon looked at her blankly, Heather lifted her chin as if asking what she was doing.

“Aren’t you playing?”

“… what are you?”

“Play it. Look at how flattering it has become.”

As usual, it was a way of speaking without any back-and-forth explanations. Rowoon crossed his arms and looked at Heather. In the end, Heather said, shaking her hair as if she couldn’t help it.

“Do you know that there are a lot of rumors going around all over the place these days?”

“What, the video of that performance?”

“no. That’s the same thing, but there’s talk about you participating in the music festival, so there’s a lot of talk here and there.”

“…what do you mean?”

“What do you mean? It’s either one. ‘Oh~ You’re in the first year, are you going to the music festival already?’ these two.”

They said almost the same thing, but the nuance was the opposite. Rowoon let out a laugh.

“What do you care about? Haters are always everywhere.”

“okay. Hater you don’t have to worry. But you’d hate to see that hater smile triumphantly later. Let me check if you are ready.”

“Thank you for your concern, but why do you go that far?”

“Your worries are also your worries, but mine are even bigger. In any case, after beating me for the championship, you shouldn’t look like a mess at the audition. Haters will laugh at me as well as you. Hey, it was a bubble. I really hate that.”

Heather was already ready to fight the invisible haters. Have you ever heard of something strange? I couldn’t tell. Rowoon shrugged.

“But what? I’m not yet confident enough to listen to the piano concerto.”

“…you’re not taking your time, are you?”

“don’t worry.”

Rowoon smiled confidently.

“Because I’m determined to beat you.”

“······Huh, whether we should support this or not. okay. let’s get it right There is no need to lose and cry later.”

“you also.”

Heather laughed at Rowoon’s words and left the practice room. After Heather left, Rowoon recalled the words she had left behind.

— There’s a lot of talk here and there.

— You’re a freshman, but are you already at the music festival?

— You’d hate to see that hater smile triumphantly later.

‘······okay. I hate to see it.’

Rowoon grabbed the Walkman. Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 1 was about to reach 50 points. It was said that soon his composing journal would be in his hands.

‘The faster you go, the slower you go. Let’s not rush. It’s not like I can go faster just because I’m in a hurry.’

Even if there is no such thing in the first place, the speed at which he embodies the song as his own is overwhelmingly faster than others. It was thanks to the blessings of Chopin, Liszt, and Bach. After obtaining those blessings, Rowoon even thought that he now understands what the world of music is like for geniuses these days.

But even he wouldn’t be able to follow Rowoon after obtaining the journal. If he gets a composition log and even a performance log, if he gets it… Then.

“Rachmaninoff. How the situation has become similar.”

Rachmaninov, who composed the Piano Concerto No. 2 for a comeback after being criticized by critics, and Rowoon, who must prove his worth in front of students who look at him with suspicion. Ironically, the circumstances of the two matched quite exquisitely.

Although the mind was calm, the hands did not. Rowoon went to the piano every day to follow Rachmaninoff’s voice, and matched it with Rami. And the more time they spent together, the more Rami couldn’t help but look at Rowoon with a strange expression.

“You play very fast.”

“Suddenly, suddenly…”

“No, it’s just a bit surprising. To be honest, since your preparation period isn’t that fast and you don’t have concerto experience, I thought this audition might just be an experience, but… I don’t know if I can really win?”

“It’s right to do it for experience.”

Rowoon said shamelessly.

“I’ll go up on the piano concerto stage as an experience.”

“Anyway, be cocky.”

Rami laughed.

“But I don’t like it. okay. go up once I will go to the audience and cheer for you.”

“Enough cheering, please enjoy.”

“If it’s a good performance, that would be it, right?”

“It will be a good performance.”

It must be a performance by a man who will understand Rachmaninoff better than anyone else in the world.

Rowoon’s confidence soon paid off. It was two days after my conversation with Rami. Rowoon’s performance finally passed 50 points, and Rachmaninoff’s first composition journal was in his hands.

I thought it would be the same as usual. Go into Rachmaninov’s life, and make his experience his own and melt it into his performance. And that’s how he raises his score again and even gets his playing diary. That was Rowoon’s plan.

However, Rowoon had no choice but to revise that plan.

It was after I first played back my composing journal. Sitting in a chair, Rowoon’s blank eyes, which were lying somewhere in the air, began to slowly regain vitality as the journal finished regenerating. His body was wet with cold sweat, and his fists were clenched tightly.

“······and.”

Whether it’s the composition this time or not, it was very different.

＜ California Music Festival (1) ＞ End

＜ California Music Festival (2) ＞

[ This is a composition journal in which emotional excesses were detected. ]

[Warning. These composition journals risk contaminating your mind! ]

[ Activates adaptation protocol to protect the user’s mind. ]

When he played back Rachmaninoff’s composing journal, the first things that flowed into Rowoon’s ears were those notifications.

At first, it was just embarrassing. It’s the first time I’ve ever had a case like this while using the Walkman.

But I had no choice. In any case, Rowoon had no choice but to replay this composition log. Whether or not to look into Rachmaninoff’s life was not simply a matter of the level at which he would understand this song more quickly. It was a matter of whether or not to change his playing to a unique one.

However, after a while, when the courtesy ‘adaptation protocol’ was activated, Rowoon could not help but regret that decision, even for a moment.

That said, the adaptation protocol was of poor quality in a way different from the mental contamination that the songwriting log might bring.

Its content was like this.

#

“Hey, son of a b*tch.”

Jinseong looked at Rowoon and said. It was a boy from the class next door whom I often met at the neighborhood playground. Rowoon asked.

“······What’s the son of a b*tch?”

“I saw it in a book, but if you don’t have a dad, you’re a son of a b*tch! But you are the only mother That’s why he’s a son of a b*tch.”

Rowoon frowned.

“don’t do it. That’s an insult.”

“Nope? So who doesn’t have a father? f*cking kid! It’s a son of a b*tch!”

“Stop!”

Without thinking for a long time, he threw his fist. Of course, the same was true of Jinseong, who was beaten. In the end, after biting, scratching, and hitting each other for a long time, they soon became ugly and pitiful, covered with scars and dirt, and were held in the arms of their respective mothers.

“Educate your children properly! you! Why are you throwing punches with what you can say! If you get this scar on your child’s face right now, will you take responsibility?”

“······Jinseong’s mother.”

“why. what! Are you trying to say that there is absolutely nothing wrong now?”

“I was wrong. sorry.”

“Hey, I’m glad you know. But so what are you going to do? A child’s face like this…”

“If there’s a kid who tries to tease you with something that doesn’t even sound like that, I should have taught him not to just hit you, but to kill him halfway.”

“······ Crabs, what, what? What did you say now?”

“I said I should have told you to tear it apart like tearing the legs of a squid if you see a snout that says things without foundation like a bastard.”

“Row Mom! Are you sane now? There are things I can say in front of the kids and there are things I can’t!”

“Your son said something he couldn’t do to my son.”

Rowoon’s mother, Lee Yeon-joo glared at Jinseong’s mother. I hesitated for a moment, thinking that those eyes would eat me up at any moment, but Jinseong’s mother gritted her teeth again and raised her voice, perhaps because she thought of Jinseong.

From noble mtl dot com

“What, you? Heh, I’m not dumbfounded. No, did I just say that I don’t have a son? You’re not even married. It’s a single parent family. I should have lived a little more straight.”

“that’s right. i don’t have a husband I decided to raise my son without a husband. That’s why I gave this child twice as much love, and I doubled and tripled my efforts to raise him without lacking. He’s a bigger kid than yours.”

Rowoon looks at the performance. Watching the anger in Yeonjoo’s eyes, clenching his fists, I thought without realizing it.

Oh, don’t fight.

And the scene changes. It’s night. In the living room where he left because he couldn’t sleep, he accidentally found a performance. she is sitting at the piano lie down on the keyboard Rowoon, who was idly trying to approach her, suddenly realizes that she is sobbing.

Even in front of that scary Jin-seong’s mother, she screamed out loud without dying, and now she’s trying to keep her cries quiet. Rowoon knows who it is.

So, after a while, after the musician hugged him,

“Loona. Do you want to go to America with your mother?”

when you said that

To be honest, Rowoon was scared of a country where he couldn’t speak a word, but

It was regretful to have to leave with the friends who gave me my heart,