Joo Won 주원 [Drama- The Midnight Studio/ 야한(夜限) 사진관]

[kittyna]

7 hours ago, kireeti2 said:

Lol! No chilies? We consider any dish without chili or spiciness  as a dessert, we add chilies even in our breakfast. I thought Chinese are no strangers of spicy food. Since lot of spicy fast food are from Chinese cuisine. I know you were born and brought up in Canada, but at least at home you would have spicy food

 

lol - It's not a Chinese thing, just a personal quirk. Even my own family teases me for it  So, yes, there are a lot of Chinese people who like spicy food. I can also point out that Chinese food is strongly regional, so some cuisines are more known for spicy flavours than others.

 

I have tried Indian food a couple of times before, and I do have to say that the desserts I've had (gulab jamun and gajar ka halwa) were awesome  I may have eaten more of those than of the savoury dishes the last time I went for Indian food.....

 

 

(And I'm moving this part out from "Spoilers" since my reply is JW-related)

 

7 hours ago, kireeti2 said:

Yeah, but in a recent survey Korean women preferred men who are well groomed and sort of with decent build up, not like build up from WWE style. Maybe that's why no member BTS is not allowed to go to gym. I am pretty sure at least one of them would like to have muscles and I am sure management as some kind of restriction on that.

 

I wonder if that's also why JW was a bit of a latecomer to working out at a gym, too. I mean, he does now - and genuinely seems to like it - but I did get a sense that he was insecure about his build during Joo Won's Life Log, which was when he finally started weight training. Before then, he did mostly cardio-type sports and exercises: playing soccer/football, running, swimming, etc. 

 

I think that, with K-pop, there's more of a pressure to simultaneously be physically attractive to fans but also to maintain a certain clean or youthful image - and for the guys, maybe getting buff goes against some of that...? I dunno. I've just noticed that there's a lot more pressure for male K-pop idols to look a certain way - in short, generally androgynous and almost-unnaturally refined and delicate features - while actors are allowed to look more distinct. Like, I will be honest that I suck at telling individual K-pop idols - or even bands! - apart just by appearance, but I can distinguish between actors relatively easily. 

 

Moving on to other things: I just came across this post on Instagram, and...is it wrong that I think JW genuinely looks beautiful when he's playing a character that's passed out? Like, I get that it's the character and not him, but...it just sounds wrong when I actually write it out, doesn't it?

 

Finally, in other news: I'm almost done the long-awaited next installment of Seolleim in Salzburg. Just the last scene, then editing, and then we're good to go! 

[kireeti2]

2 hours ago, kittyna said:

but...it just sounds wrong when I actually write it out, doesn't it?

Yeah, you sound like some kind of perv

 

2 hours ago, kittyna said:

I have tried Indian food a couple of times before, and I do have to say that the desserts I've had (gulab jamun and gajar ka halwa) were awesome  I may have eaten more of those than of the savoury dishes the last time I went for Indian food.....

Nice, you had one of the best sweets of India. These are like standard sweets for every occasion in the house

Alice fan art

2 hours ago, kittyna said:

Finally, in other news: I'm almost done the long-awaited next installment of Seolleim in Salzburg. Just the last scene, then editing, and then we're good to go! 

Awesome! Can't wait

[kittyna]

23 hours ago, kireeti2 said:

Awesome! Can't wait

 

Just finished the draft, so I still need to edit and revise. But that does mean we're one step closer  

 

23 hours ago, kireeti2 said:

Yeah, you sound like some kind of perv

 

lol - I was thinking a psychopath, actually. Not sure which one is better....

 

23 hours ago, kireeti2 said:

Nice, you had one of the best sweets of India. These are like standard sweets for every occasion in the house

 

Glad to hear that! 

 

And speaking of food, I like watching comparative/"food around the world" sorts of videos, like this one: 

 

Street Treats Around Asia - Asian Americans sharing about different fried foods from their families' places of origin (Korea, India, Hong Kong, Okinawa)

 

Not much to share today re: JW updates, actually, but here are some of Kim Hee Sun's stills. That should tide us over for a bit  

[kireeti2]

24 minutes ago, kittyna said:

lol - I was thinking a psychopath, actually. Not sure which one is better....

I am surprised you thought Psychopath is somehow better than perv

 

46 minutes ago, kittyna said:

Street Treats Around Asia - Asian Americans sharing about different fried foods from their families' places of origin (Korea, India, Hong Kong, Okinawa)

Fun fact: The tradition of Street Food in India started during colonial time, sine the kings of those times lost wealth and were mere puppets in the hands of colonial masters they were not able to pay their chefs, so these chefs started their own street food stalls in Bazaars

 

1 hour ago, kittyna said:

Not much to share today re: JW updates, actually, but here are some of Kim Hee Sun's stills. That should tide us over for a bit  

Wow! Kim Hee-Seo can do any character with ease

[kittyna]

10 hours ago, kireeti2 said:

I am surprised you thought Psychopath is somehow better than perv

 

lol - They're both bad, aren't they?  Personally, I'm really neither, but many writers do joke about having a slight sadistic streak (since good stories and plot lines tend to end up putting the characters through a ton of crap).

 

10 hours ago, kireeti2 said:

The tradition of Street Food in India started during colonial time, sine the kings of those times lost wealth and were mere puppets in the hands of colonial masters they were not able to pay their chefs, so these chefs started their own street food stalls in Bazaars

 

Really? I always thought it was around even before then, as something available to the general public. I guess you learn something new every day  

 

And now Ghost has a trailer, too! 

 

 

 

[kireeti2]

1 hour ago, kittyna said:

They're both bad, aren't they? 

You have to ask? 

1 hour ago, kittyna said:

, but many writers do joke about having a slight sadistic streak (since good stories and plot lines tend to end up putting the characters through a ton of crap)

I guess writers do have to think like them to create a character with those traits 

1 hour ago, kittyna said:

Really? I always thought it was around even before then, as something available to the general public. I guess you learn something new every day  

A lot of culture practices you see in Indians in India and in abroad have lot of influence from colonial ruling. Like, my countries whole India administration is colonial, but of course we tweaked it to our needs and craze for English language is also due to colonial education policy

1 hour ago, kittyna said:

And now Ghost has a trailer, too! 

At least we could see Joo won doing promotion of the "Ghost Musical", like he did it for the last one in 2013 

[kittyna]

New Ghost posters - and Alice stills.

 

lol - Looks like someone's been busy  

[kireeti2]

27 minutes ago, kittyna said:

New Ghost posters

For some reason I really what him to end up with the second musical actress in poster. I don't know why ? But they look compatible with each other and I have been wishing that they would end up together from the moment I saw them together in "Global Request" tv show 

[kittyna]

8 hours ago, kireeti2 said:

For some reason I really what him to end up with the second musical actress in poster. I don't know why ? But they look compatible with each other and I have been wishing that they would end up together from the moment I saw them together in "Global Request" tv show 

 

I'm gonna start work on posting my fic now (finally!), so if I'm absent on replies, that's why.

 

In the meantime, here's that same episode from "Global Request" if anyone wants a refresher:

 

 

[kittyna]

Here we are with the next installment of Seolleim in Salzburg!

 

Spoiler

Title: Let Us Rewrite History, You and I

Drama: "Nae Il's Cantabile" 

Characters: Cha Yoo Jin, Seol Nae Il, Lee Yoon Hoo

Premise: Summer is the highlight of Salzburg's classical music scene, as the Mozarteum's student recitals give way to the world-famous annual Salzburg Festival. It is also, in Cha Yoo Jin's mind, the perfect opportunity to formally propose to Seol Nae Il, as her studies finally come to an end and her real solo career begins. However, he hadn't expected Nae Il to invite Lee Yoon Hoo to stay with them for the entire month they will spend preparing for the Festival. What's a guy to do?

 

Note: this story is part of the set of sequel stories I've written for "Nae Il's Cantabile", which I am calling "Seolleim in Salzburg". Thus, in order to fully understand this story, I strongly advise you to read its predecessors first:

 

"The Sound of Christmas"

"Angel of Music, Come Down from Above"

"In Mozart's Name"

"Seollal, Seollebal, Seolleim"

"A Little Baroque, A Little Romantic"

"Rhapsody in Red"

"From Darkness into Light"

"For the Love of Music"

"If Music Be the Food of Love"

"Carmen, Micaela, Don José"

"Let Nothing You Dismay"

"The True Viennese Waltz"

"Hats Off, Gentlemen, for Meister RaRo!"

"Edelweiss on the Water"

 

Notes on Language: While most of the Korean in this fic should be pretty self-explanatory (if not, sound it out - chances are you'll recognize it that way), I do work in some German here and there. So for those who don't know the language, here's a quick glossary:

 

Guten Tag = Hello (formal; usually used in Germany rather than Austria)

Mein name ist = My name is

Ja = Yes

 

Finally, before we begin: Once again, please do not re-post any content from this fic on any other website. If you want to share it, just post a link back to this site. Thanks!

 

Spoiler

Let Us Rewrite History, You and I

 

Click.

 

The printer on my desk suddenly whirs to life, spitting out a single sheet of paper. Stifling a yawn, I grab it absentmindedly from the tray, not even realizing that it isn’t mine until I start reading it.

 

“Ya, Seollebal,” I call out, my eyes widening in surprise. “Is this yours?”

 

Still seated at her desk, Nae Il swivels around to face me. “Eh?”

 

I hold the up the printout so she could see it. Eyes lighting up in recognition, she nods, then crosses over to take it from me.

 

My brow furrows as she returns to her desk. “What are you looking at apartments for?”

 

Nae Il blinks at me, incredulous. “It’s not for me, Orabang – it’s for the others.”

 

“Mwo?”

 

She throws herself back in her seat, shooting a deadpan look in my direction. “Don’t you remember? That’s the AirBnB Rak-kun booked; I’m just printing it out for reference.”

 

“Ah.” Throwing down my pencil, I reach up to massage my aching temples with both hands. “Mianhae, Nae Il-ah – with all that’s been going on, that must have slipped my mind.”

 

She responds with a sympathetic pout. “You haven’t been getting much sleep lately, haven’t you.”

 

I wince. “Mm.”

 

Over the past few weeks, it seems like everything has been piling on all at once. In addition to working with Elise to figure out the logistics for the summer tour and our recently signed contracts, there are the actual school assignments I have coming due: the usual final tests and papers; a detailed report based on my practicum this past year with the opera department; and a composition that – despite Nae Il’s assurances to the contrary – is coming out far too insipid and uninspired for my liking, I possessing almost none of her creative capabilities. Add to that the time spent practicing for my upcoming piano performances – my own solo recital as well as the Paderewski concerto for the tour – and it’s no wonder that my schedule is already close to packed.

 

But then, as though that wasn’t already enough, I received yet another assignment from Professor Stresemann: to take the fully annotated scores I’d already sent him for our upcoming tour and rewrite my comments on the individual parts. My protests were met with a stern admonishment that my duty as a guest conductor was to make things as easy for the orchestra members as humanly possible, so I’ve spent the last several nights scrambling to complete the tedious and thankless task.

 

The only consolation thus far is that I am not alone: Lee Yoon Hoo has been given the same task for his scores. Although he does not need to pull all-nighters to fit it in like I do, he does have the additional challenge of translating his notes, originally written in English, into German. More than once, I’ve received text messages from him asking for help; and, knowing the tight deadline we’ve been given by the Professor, I’ve had little choice but to oblige.

 

Smiling fondly at me, Nae Il disappears into the kitchen with her printout, returning several minutes later with a freshly brewed cup of coffee. “Here you go, Orabang,” she says, setting it down on my desk. “It’s a double – just the way you like it.”

 

I accept it with a word of thanks, taking as large a swallow of the steaming brew as I could manage. Nae Il, still smiling, pulls her chair closer to sit beside me and gestures at the pile of sheet music on the desk. “How much more do you still have left?”

 

“I’m almost done, thank goodness; just have to finish this bit, then I can scan the whole thing and email it to the Professor.” Pointing to the relevant parts, I add, “I thought about whether to do the strings first or save them for last – but now I’m glad I saved them because now I only have the easiest part left.”

 

She tilts her head slightly. “You mean the violins?”

 

Smothering yet another yawn with one hand, I nod. Seemingly satisfied with my response, Nae Il’s smile widens. “Well, if you can, Orabang, try to take the rest of today off, at least.” She cuts off my protests with a single raised hand. “Of course, if you still want to practice, I’m not stopping you; I get that that part’s not actually work for you. But everything else can wait just one day.”

 

She meets my stare with an equally challenging one of her own until, after a long moment, I concede with a sigh. “Arasseo. Just let me finish this, and then you’ll have me for the rest of the day."

 

Nae Il beams, answering me with a vigorous nod. As I copy out my notes from the full score onto the first violin part, I change the subject back to the printout from before. “So does this mean everyone is accounted for?”

 

“Ne, Orabang.” From the corner of my eye, I can just manage to make out her hand as she counts on her fingers. “Each of us had ten free tickets for our concerts to give out, so that includes us, Eomeonim, my parents….”

 

“Abeoji.”

 

“Ne – by the way, Orabang; I’ve already checked to make sure that he and Eomeonim took out rooms in different hotels, so no need to worry about that.” When I nod gratefully in response, she resumes her count. “There’s Milch – of course – Yoon Hoo-sunbae….”

 

“Chae Do Kyung.”

 

She shoots me a look. “Only because you asked me to, Orabang.”

 

“Ara,” I retort, completely unfazed as I wave one hand at her. “Go on.”

 

“And now, with this place, there’s also Rak-kun and Si Won-eonnie.”

 

“I see. Does that make ten?”

 

Nae Il nods, frowning just a bit. “I’d so hoped that Mini Min Hee would be able to come, too. It’s crazy how ten free tickets could feel like so much at first, but then run out so fast.” Her gaze hardens. “If you hadn’t asked me to invite Chae Do Kyung, Orabang, then–”

 

I raise my hand to stop her. “We’ve been over this, Seollebal: Choi Min Hee already said she couldn’t come because of her own exams. Would I ask you to offer your last ticket to Do Kyung if that hadn’t been the case?”

 

“I know.” Eyes round as saucers, she pouts at me. “But still.”

 

“Besides,” I add, one corner of my twitching up in a wry smirk, “considering what I’ve had to agree to in exchange, Seollebal, I daresay you got the better end of the deal.”

 

She makes a face. “That doesn’t count, Orabang.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because asking me to invite your ex-girlfriend to my grad recital is hardly the same thing as letting our touring partner stay with us rather than in a hotel.”

 

“Arasseo,” I retort, “but for a whole month?”

 

Nae Il shrugs. “So?”

 

“So why not with the Professor? Why does it have to be us?” When she merely presses her lips together to suppress a laugh, I move to explain. “You know how on-edge I get when we have guests over – and this isn’t just any guest, but Lee Yoon Hoo.”

 

“Milch said it’d be a good chance for you two to learn to get along better, and Elise said it would save us money if we could share accommodations throughout this whole tour.”

 

“Ara – but at this rate, we’re not going to have a single day just to ourselves until August, when we get to Leipzig. Doesn’t that bother you?”

 

She raises an eyebrow. “Wae? Does it bother you?”

 

“A-ani.” I shake my head, forcing the thought of the ring I’d ordered for her to the back of my mind. “It’s just that you’re usually the one who hates it when there’s a third wheel in the house.”

 

Nae Il looks unconvinced at my lie, but if she suspects the actual truth, she doesn’t comment on it. “Well, as long as you two can get through this summer without throttling each other,” she quips back, starting to get up from my desk, “I think I can manage.”

 

“Arasseo.” As she makes to leave, however, I call out to stop her. “One more thing, Seollebal.”

 

She glances back over her shoulder. “Eh?”

 

“Having Lee Yoon Hoo stay here is one thing,” I say firmly, “but letting him have my room is another.”

 

Nae Il turns all the way back around. “Orabang….”

 

“I mean it, Seollebal. If I’m going to do this, I need at least some space to myself.” Before she could interrupt, I add, “And don’t even think about offering him yours, either.”

 

“I wasn’t going to,” she quips back smartly. “But I will ask you to reconsider about your room, Orabang.”

 

I stare at her, incredulous. “Mwo?”

 

“You’ve been fine offering it to Milch whenever he comes by, so it’s only fair.”

 

I shake my head. “Shiro.”

 

“Are you saying that just because you’re still a sleep-deprived grumpy cat right now? Or is there something else?”

 

I open my mouth to answer, but think better of it at the last minute. There isn’t anything I could say that wouldn’t end with me looking childishly petty in the process. So instead, I simply resume my work in silence, hoping that she would take the hint.

 

However, rather than being deterred, Nae Il simply flounces back to her earlier spot by my desk. “Alright, then – how about we do it like this?” To my astonishment, she holds out an open hand. “Rock, Paper, Scissors.”

 

My brow furrows as I stare down at her hand. “Mwo?”

 

“If you win this, Orabang, then Yoon Hoo-sunbae gets the couch; but if I win, then you sleep there while he gets the room.” She raises an eyebrow when I hesitate. “Come on, Orabang,” she sing-songs at me, “you can’t say this isn’t fair.”

 

Actually, flipping a coin would be fairer. But Nae Il looks so earnestly at me now, clearly already eagerly anticipating the results of this game, that I turn to face her with a nod. “Arasseo, if that’s how you want to do it.” I, too, hold out my hand. “Best out of five?”

 

She nods. “Deal.”

 

I don’t know about her, but I’ve never gone into Rock, Paper, Scissors with any sort of strategy, simply letting the game play out by itself according to chance. So it’s no surprise, then, that Nae Il wins the first two rounds in a row.

 

“Just give it up, Orabang,” she says, eyes glinting with mischief. “You know how this is going to end up.”

 

I dismiss her teasing with an exaggerated shrug. “It’s not over until it is.”

 

Sure enough, the next two rounds go in my favour, leaving the final one – the tiebreaker – to settle the dispute once and for all.

 

Nae Il chuckles. “Are you ready for this, Orabang?”

 

I find myself laughing back. “Are you?”

 

“Remember: whatever the result is, you’ve promised to accept it.”

 

We seal the agreement with a nod, and I gesture for Nae Il to make the call.

 

“Alright, then. Here goes. Rock, Paper, Scissor–”

 

“Aish!”

 

~~~~~

 

“Come on in, Sunbae,” Nae Il chirps, shuffling back from the door to clear more space in the foyer. “Make yourself at home.”

 

Smiling and nodding in thanks, Lee Yoon Hoo steps into the apartment, I following a step behind with his suitcase, having just come from picking him up at the train station. His eyes scan over the foyer and the two corridors branching off from it as he kicks off his shoes, careful not to disturb the cello case slung onto his back. Like many musicians, the instrument is also the main item on his mind; he barely pauses long enough to greet Nae Il before asking her where he could set it down.

 

Beaming, she shows him to our music room while I wheel his suitcase to my – now his – room. No sooner have I placed it beside the bed does Yoon Hoo join me, opening it up to retrieve the garment bag holding his tux – he never did end up adopting tails like I have – and hang it up in the wardrobe.

 

“I’ll say this again when Nae Il’s around,” he says, “but komapda. I know this can’t be easy for you.”

 

“Well, so long as you’re aware of that,” I reply dismissively.

 

He turns back around to face me. “I’ll do my best to stay out of your hair: laundry, dishes, those sorts of things…I’ll take care of my own, if that’s what you prefer.”

 

With that promise, I’m finally able to answer with a relieved, albeit still formally polite, smile. “Food and anything relating to it can be shared,” I respond diplomatically, “but I do appreciate your offer regarding the laundry.”

 

Yoon Hoo grins, clearly also relieved that some of the ice has been broken, at least. We seal the agreement with a handshake, but as I turn to leave, he tilts his head curiously to one side.

 

“Wae?”

 

“Nae Il already told me that this room is mine to use,” he begins tentatively. “But, then, where will you sleep?”

 

I shoot him a knowing look. “Typical: so focused on your own cello….Didn’t you see the roll-out mattress in the music room?”

 

That was the compromise Nae Il and I ultimately came to, in the weeks following our decision to make these arrangements. Realizing that it would be asking a lot for me to forego any sort of private space at all – which sleeping on the living room couch would have entailed – we finally decided that this was the best solution. The thin foam mattress, now rolled up and stowed away in the corner beside my desk, is a loan from Muhammed, who generously offered it after I’d explained the situation to him.

 

“So, gwenchana,” I finish as Yoon Hoo nods in understanding, “you don’t have to worry about me.”

 

“Except when,” Nae Il cuts in, stepping into the room behind me, “you hear something through the wall in the middle of the night and realize that Orabang’s gotten up to start working – again.”

 

I round on her. “Ya, Seollebal – who said I’d–”

 

A snort of laughter from Yoon Hoo cuts me off; I whirl around just in time to see the mirth glistening in his eyes as he waves away my protest. “Forget it, Cha Yoo Jin: we all know you too well.”

 

I glance back and forth between them, finally throwing my hands up and rolling my eyes when both of them burst out laughing. “Oh, so this is what it’s going to be like,” I growl out sarcastically, “dealing with both of you all summer.”

 

Nae Il immediately clams up, Yoon Hoo following a second later. Then, as though just now remembering the reason why she’d come in in the first place, she beckons us to join her out in the living room for coffee and a snack: strawberry tarts from Fürst, a perfect match for the bright and sunny June afternoon.

 

With the sun, however, comes heat; and it isn’t long before Yoon Hoo comments on our apartment’s lack of air conditioning.

 

“It’s simply not the norm here,” I answer with a shrug, even as Nae Il, taking the hint, gets up to open our sliding door and windows wider than before to let in more of a breeze. “Most buildings, like this one, simply weren’t built with central heating or cooling in mind; and many landlords think adding it in now wouldn’t be environmentally friendly.”

 

“Besides,” Nae Il adds, coming back to join us, “wouldn’t you prefer to have the windows open like this, Sunbae?” Closing her eyes, she breathes in a long contented sigh. “Especially if the bells are ringing or someone happens to be playing music outside.”

 

Yoon Hoo answers with a faint smile, glancing sideways at our open balcony. “Do you two do that, then? Play music by the windows, I mean.”

 

“Rather hard with that spot,” I answer, “but we do sometimes in the music room.” I raise an eyebrow. “Wae? Do you have any ideas?”

 

His smile widens, and immediately, all three of us spring into action. As he dashes off to the music room, Nae Il opens the sliding door all the way, giving me enough space to place a chair outside. Within moments, Yoon Hoo has joined us with his cello, and our hurried set-up on the balcony is complete.

 

He tunes the instrument quickly, looking up at me periodically to confirm the pitch. Then, after one last encouraging nod from Nae Il, he starts to play a gentle lilting melody from the slow movement of his Haydn concerto.

 

I’d never say it to Yoon Hoo directly, but I have always loved the sound of a cello: especially in moments like this, when it sings out in its deep lower register, comforting and warm as a mother’s lullaby. I close my eyes, letting the sound pour into me and flood my senses; my right hand floats up at its own accord, gently bobbing along in time with the beat.

 

“Mama, Mama – look what I found! It’s so cool!”

 

My eyes fly back open, just in time to see Liese, the younger of the two little girls from the unit across from ours, pointing eagerly at us from their matching balcony. Yoon Hoo, although caught off guard by the outburst, continues playing after just the slightest hesitation, greeting our neighbours with a deep nod as Liese’s mother and older sister also come out to watch. As he comes to the end of the phrase he is on, stretching out the last note into something like a final cadence, they politely break into applause.

 

He half-rises out of his seat to offer a slight bow in response, calling out a quick word of thanks; but when a question from her mother leaves him with a bewildered expression on his face, little Liese rounds on her, hands planted indignantly on her hips.

 

“What’s wrong with him? Can’t he talk?”

 

Nae Il and I both burst out laughing, even as Liese’s sister, shocked by the question, immediately shushes her, pulling her aside to chastise her. Yoon Hoo, however, waves for them to stop, a warm amused smile on his face.

 

“It’s alright,” he answers in English. “I’m not sure what your sister just said, but she’s probably just curious.”

 

Even though I’m sure the mother understood him just fine, I call over a quick translation for the children’s benefit. As though that counts as tacit permission, both little girls immediately launch into a flurry of questions: about Yoon Hoo, about his cello, and about our upcoming series of performances at this summer’s Salzburg Festival.

 

“You’ll need tickets to listen to the concert,” Nae Il says to the girls. “But, if you ask really, really nicely,” she adds, her eyes twinkling in mischief, “I think our friend might be fine with showing you a little bit more.”

 

Immediately, both girls start clamouring, little Liese even bouncing on tiptoe with her hands clasped as though in prayer. Yoon Hoo, clearly accustomed to working with kids, makes a grand show of hesitating and mulling over their display before finally agreeing with a nod. Then, closing his eyes for a moment to mentally count himself in, he breaks straight into a rapid virtuosic excerpt from the concerto’s finale.

 

The children’s jaws drop; squealing in excitement, they press right up against the railing on their balcony in their attempts to get a closer look. Even I, having only ever heard Yoon Hoo playing slower, more soulful music before, stare down in silent awe at the way his left hand shifts deftly up and down the cello’s neck, at the rapid tremolo bowing from his right.

 

All of us burst into applause when he is done, Nae Il waiting until he has bowed once again in thanks to stop filming the action on her phone. Once the three of us are alone, our neighbours finally disappearing back inside, she peers questioningly at him; then, at his silent nod of consent, she logs on to Instagram to post the video.

 

“This,” she says, adding on a caption about our upcoming summer tour, “is as good a start to our tour as any.”

 

~~~~~

 

Smiling gently at Nae Il, I carefully tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear before leaning in to kiss her softly on the forehead. “Don’t worry, Seollebal; you’re going to do great.”

 

She returns my smile in thanks, but then pouts up at me a fraction of a second later. “Is that the best you can do?”

 

Her puckered lips tell me exactly what she wants, but I shake my head. “And risk messing up your look after you put so much work into it? Andwae.”

 

The subtle compliment appeases Nae Il, who giggles as she softly touches her hand to the red silk flower she’s pinned to her hair, which she has decided to style into loose waves – but otherwise leave hanging down – for tonight’s concert. That same carefree, springlike feeling extends to her long sleeveless dress: the palest barely-there green with tiny red flowers scattered on the bodice, its deep neckline filled in with sheer white fabric for modesty.

 

But now, rather than girlish innocence, she lets out her inner minx, licking her lips slightly as she blinks coyly up at me. “Waeyo?” she asks. “I thought you’d just seize the moment now that Yoon Hoo-sunbae’s not around.”

 

Smothering a laugh, I give her a playful tap on the nose. “Well, you’re the one who pointed out that it’s only because of him that we have this moment at all.”

 

Nae Il’s expression softens. “True….” She glances past me at the closed dressing room door. “Does that mean you have to go now?”

 

I answer with a solemn nod. “Geu rae; it’s almost time, and I really shouldn’t leave him to play host all by himself.”

 

She allows me to leave, but not before making me give her another kiss on the cheek for good luck. I make my way down the stairs from the Solitär, where tonight’s recital is taking place, to the main lobby. It’s not very crowded, a graduation recital drawing little attention from anyone other than the Mozarteum’s own student body, so it doesn’t take me long to spot Lee Yoon Hoo off to one side, our friends and family hovering around him.

 

Yoo Il Rak, standing together with Yoon Hoo and Jung Si Won, immediately pulls me in sideways, draping an arm across my shoulders with a hearty slap. He refuses to let go even after I answer his congratulations with a smile, leaving me struggling awkwardly to give the elders – my parents and Nae Il’s, along with Professor Stresemann – a more proper bow. Eomma and Nae Il’s parents grin, joking softly amongst themselves at my predicament, but my gaze soon travels beyond them to Abeoji. He stays several paces away from the others, looking at me with an unreadable expression – even for him – on his face until finally answering with a politely distant nod.

 

Fashionably late as usual, Do Kyung chooses this moment to show up. She holds out a hand towards me for a ticket, but is left blinking in surprise when it’s Yoon Hoo who passes her one instead.

 

“I was prepping backstage with Nae Il until just now,” I offer by way of explanation. “So Lee Yoon Hoo’s in charge of the tickets.”

 

In truth, there is a more to it than that. While everyone here has the same thought of celebrating Nae Il’s graduation with this recital, there is still enough bad blood between Eomma and Abeoji – not to mention between both my parents and Professor Stresemann! – that, even with our free seats strung out in a row as they are, it’s been hard for us to come up with a seating plan without stepping on someone’s toes. So it’s fortunate that Yoon Hoo, aware of the situation, volunteered to sort things out as a neutral third party.

 

However, it’s only after he has handed me my ticket and we have all made our way back upstairs to the auditorium that I finally see the genius of his plan. Our seats are located just behind the long judges’ table, where Nae Il’s professor and several other members of the faculty will sit, and Yoon Hoo has had the foresight to offer Abeoji a seat on one end of the row. Nae Il’s parents are beside him, under the pretense that tonight is their first official meeting; their attempts to engage him in conversation are unsuccessful, however, and it isn’t long before Nae Il’s mother chooses to chat softly with Eomma instead. Do Kyung comes next, and then me in the centre, with Yoo Il Rak on my other side. Jung Si Won is beside him, followed by Yoon Hoo himself before, at last, we come to Professor Stresemann on the far end.

 

Perhaps reminded of old times, Do Kyung reaches out to take my hand, but I stop her with a slight smile and shake of the head. Face falling in disappointment, she tears her eyes away from me, busying herself with her copy of the programme as the rest of the audience – mostly fellow students from the Mozarteum – fill in several more rows of seats behind us.

 

I cast a quick backwards glance over my shoulder. As to be expected from a graduation recital, the auditorium is nowhere near full; with the exception of Muhammed and several of his friends, who now wave at me from their spot several rows back, most of the people in the audience appear to be Nae Il’s own classmates and other Mozarteum students whom I don’t know personally.

 

When it is finally time for the recital to begin, Nae Il’s professor rises from the judge’s table and makes his way up onto the stage. His welcome message is brief: thanking us all for our presence, as well as a short reminder about basic concert etiquette. Only after he has returned to his seat to polite applause does the stage door finally click open, at the exact moment when the lights go dim.

 

Nae Il’s hands grasp onto the front of her skirt as she makes her way to the piano. While it may simply look to an untrained eye as though she’s lifting the hem so she doesn’t trip, the subtle gesture makes me tense up with bated breath.

 

Even though I’d already spent the entire rehearsal by her side this afternoon, followed by our long conversation in her dressing room once she had changed, she’s still nervous.

 

For Nae Il, the beginning of a performance is always the toughest: that moment of silent hyper-awareness as all eyes fall on her. So it’s fortunate that, taking her professor’s advice, she starts with a piece that she could completely throw herself into: Clara Schumann’s Scherzo No. 2 in C-minor. Filled with loving, passionate fervour, each phrase starts in the lower reaches of the bass, soaring up to the treble before tumbling back down again. Nae Il’s eyes close as she pours herself into each one, slowing and hovering just a split second longer at the crest, letting it ring out over us all before beginning her descent. Passion meets tenderness in the scherzo’s middle section: a melody soft and gentle as a sweet nighttime serenade or a romantic dinner by candlelight that grows and broadens into a final repetition of the opening theme.

 

Because this is a graduation recital, we have been asked to keep applause short in order to allow the judges to concentrate on their notes between pieces. However, a quick glance at Nae Il in the stillness after the opening piece shows me that I have nothing to fear: calm, serene, she scans over our row, smiling when our eyes meet.

 

Gwenchana, Orabang – I’m in my element now.

 

Nae Il’s professor signals for her to move on to her second piece, and immediately, she is transformed. Her shoulders roll back, her back shoots up ramrod straight; and although it isn’t noticeable due to her long skirt, I know from watching her do this at home that she has tucked in her feet underneath her, only the tips of her toes touching the floor.

 

This is the pose she unconsciously assumes when she plays a Baroque piece, and that’s what she jumps into next.

 

Characteristically for her, Nae Il has chosen a piece – Bach’s Toccata in E-minor – that still allows for a great deal of individuality in expression. Consisting of four distinct segments, each unique in its tempo, style and theme, the pianist is free to choose from a whole myriad of different techniques, each aimed at emulating a different aspect of a harpsichord or organ’s sound. Clearly, Nae Il’s experience playing a harpsichord last year, however brief, has served her well. After a grand introduction, she shifts into a softer, more delicate sound for the second section; a broader, almost organ-like effect for the third; before going for her loudest, crispest tone of all in the concluding fugue.

 

And then, in almost complete contrast, she moves into her third piece: Beethoven’s Rondo a Capriccio. Popularly nicknamed “Rage over a Lost Penny” for its quick – almost hyperactive – tempo, this piece, in my opinion, is not so much angry, but cute: my first comment to Nae Il when she showed me this piece was to link it to her aegyo-filled pout, even though my attempt to then compare said expression to an “angry hamster” did earn me a kick in the shin. Smiling ruefully at the memory, I carefully reach down and rub that spot with one hand, looking up just in time to spy Yoon Hoo glancing curiously at me. When he raises a questioning eyebrow at me, however, I dismiss him with a shake of the head: this is not a story he needs to know.

 

In addition to solo repertoire, the piano performance major at the Mozarteum requires its students to learn several chamber pieces as well, and that’s the component that Nae Il moves on to next. Trying to keep things simple, she has opted to partner with a single violin student for tonight’s concert, with the agreement to return the favour tomorrow at the other girl’s own graduation recital. Originally, the plan was to do the same two pieces on both nights – Ravel’s famous Tzigane and Vecsey’s Nuit du Nord – but, in an unusual turn of events, Nae Il had asked for tonight’s first piece to be switched to Waxman’s Carmen Fantasie shortly after classes resumed in March.

 

I hadn’t thought much of the change at first: Tzigane infamously began with a long violin solo, after all, so I simply assumed that Nae Il instead wanted a piece that had a larger piano accompaniment. However, as she now shoots a penetrating glance into the audience even as she sways in time with her partner’s playing, it clicks.

 

“Ya, Seollebal,” I mutter despite myself, “of all the….”

 

I don’t finish the thought, however, lest I end up saying more and tipping off those around me. Suffice it to say that Chae Do Kyung’s peace offering from March now finally has its answer.

 

We stretch out our applause a bit longer once both duets are done, giving both girls the chance to bow, and for Nae Il to shake her partner’s hand in thanks. She throws in a friendly wave goodbye as the other girl disappears backstage with her violin; then, at the judges’ invitation, she resumes her place at the piano.

 

Her final piece. Her showpiece. Robert Schumann’s Sonata No. 2 in G-minor.

 

It begins suddenly, Nae Il starting its tumultuous theme at a frenetic pace, in accordance with its famous tempo marking: So rasch wie möglich, “as fast as possible” to start, but then with demands to grow even faster still by the end. The trick here, she’d confided in me once, was to choose a starting tempo that was just barely manageable: one that would appear unsustainable, yet still be under the pianist’s complete control until that last push at the end, when adrenaline finally takes over.

 

Such a beginning is contrasted with the soft romance of the gentle and tender caresses of the second movement, followed by the lively, skipping step of the third, which Nae Il takes with as much playful enthusiasm as her nickname, Seollebal, implies.

 

And then, the reason why Nae Il chose this piece at all: the final fourth movement.

 

“This wasn’t the original one that Robert composed, Orabang – he rewrote it after Clara asked him to,” she’d explained to me back when she first included this piece in the programme. “And maybe you think it’s strange: that she’d do that even though she was totally on board with his creative vision.” As I’d looked on closely, she’d leaned in from her side of our dining table until her face was just inches from mine. “But that’s the thing, Orabang: she did it for him. She loved the original final movement, but she knew that only she would – that no-one else would understand it or be willing to perform it, that they would hate it, and that Robert would be blamed for that. By telling him to change it, she was trying to protect him from the critics and haters of this world.”

 

There’s no way that Robert – that any composer, really – could have taken that request well. Yet, somehow, deep in his heart, he must have understood: why else would he have worked into the final version of this piece a reference to Clara – a descending five-note scale?

 

Like Nae Il’s retreat to Jeju-do, or my pushing her to perform on stage, Robert and Clara have had to learn that actions that appear intended to hurt are actually meant to heal.

 

Could anyone else see it? I don’t know. But what matters to Nae Il – what matters to me – is that we do. And that’s already enough.

 

~~~~~

 

The metal gate that squeaks and squeals during the off-season now glides open easily, its hinges freshly oiled in preparation for an influx of summer tourists. But the skies are cloudy today, the air hot and heavy with impending rain; St. Sebastian’s Cemetery is quiet and still, and I am the only person there as I step into the open courtyard.

 

Had Mozart himself been buried here, then this place would be packed even with the foul weather. But it’s just his family, and in comparison with him, they’ve all but faded away by the wayside.

 

The small family plot is just as I remember it: a cluster of markers huddled together in a prominent spot just inside of the entrance. Ignoring the larger stone dedicated to Mozart’s wife, I head straight for the one for his father, Leopold. I step up in front of the grave as close as I dare; then, setting down my bag, I sink down to my knees on the grass.

 

Nae Il had her recital a few days ago – and now, it’s my turn.

 

I’m not religious by any means, yet my hand moves of its own accord to mark the sign of the cross before drifting down to my lap. Somehow, in the silence of the graveyard – the only sounds being the chirping of birds in the trees and the distant whir of traffic drifting in from outside – the show of reverence simply feels right.

 

Ever since that first time early last year, whenever possible, I have come here to St. Sebastian’s before every single performance I’ve taken part in here in Salzburg. It’s my last moment to myself between the final rehearsal and the actual performance: the moment where, with no-one else to watch or listen, I confide to Mozart’s father the things I would much rather say to mine.

 

In the past, my prayer at this vigil has been the same: that somehow, by some twist of fate, Abeoji could see me up on stage and know what I, at long last, have become. Well, I don’t have to ask that today. Today, he’s already here, somewhere in this city, hopefully awaiting tonight’s performance with as much anticipation as I am.

 

Instead, today, my request to Leopold Mozart is for something else. Someone else.

 

The small velvet-covered box fits easily in the palm of my hand as I pull it out of the pocket in my trousers. With the overcast skies, the jeweled edelweiss on the ring is uncharacteristically dull; yet even then, what little light is available catches on it, smiling up at me so sweetly that I have no choice but to smile back.

 

I hear the sound of footsteps. Startled, I slam the ring box shut and shove it back into my pocket, swiveling around to see who’s come to join me.

 

“Eomma!”

 

She comes to a stop several paces away, looking down at me with a beatific smile. “I thought I’d find you here.”

 

Surprised as I am to see her, it takes me a moment before I scoot over to one side to let her sit down beside me. “How – how did you…?”

 

She couldn’t have found out from Nae Il. After all, Nae Il is aware that I like to be left entirely alone while I’m here.

 

Eomma shoots me a knowing look. “Since you couldn’t speak to the man himself, it figures that you’d find an alternative.”

 

The sky doesn’t change, yet it feels darker all the same. “Eomma….”

 

“But enough about that,” she answers, shrugging dismissively as she rallies herself together. “At least he’s actually here this time – that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

 

“Mm.”

 

We stay together in silence for a long moment, but then Eomma gestures at the hand in my lap. “What were you looking at just now?”

 

I round on her, blinking in surprise. “N-nothing.”

 

“It certainly didn’t look like ‘nothing,’” she retorts, a knowing smirk growing on her face. “Come on, Yoo Jin-ah: I saw that smile.”

 

I shake my head.

 

“Wae? Don’t you trust me?”

 

Not with any surprise plans, I don’t. And considering that she already knows that about me, I’m surprised she’s even asking me at all.

 

Sure enough, after yet another moment’s staring wordlessly at each other, she concedes. “Alright, then,” she says as she stands up, “you keep your secrets. If it’s something I’m allowed to know, I’m sure you’ll let me in on it in due time.”

 

After I, too, have scrambled to my feet, Eomma gives me yet another indulgent smile, clasping one hand onto my shoulder.

 

“Gwenchana, Yoo Jin-ah,” she says, giving me a firm, reassuring squeeze. “Everything will be alright.”

 

There is a strange faraway look in her eyes, as though she’s not only thinking about tonight’s concert, but some point beyond as well. But before I could ask her or try to figure out more, she turns around and heads back for the gate, calling out an invitation for me to join her indoors for a coffee before the rain starts.

 

“Ne, Eomma!”

 

I linger in the cemetery until she has disappeared through the gate and around the corner. Then, turning back to Leopold Mozart’s grave one last time, I touch a hand to the dark cool weather-beaten stone.

 

In Nae Il’s eyes, I know I’m the Robert Schumann to her Clara, and it is in that capacity that I’ll propose tonight.

 

But until then, while I’m up on that stage, let me be my father’s beloved Wolfgang instead.

 

~~~~~

 

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Yoon Hoo says from behind me, “that you’d actually ask me to sit next to Nae Il.”

 

“Don’t read too much into it,” I answer dismissively, not even glancing back at him as I do up my bow tie. “I’m only asking you because I can’t trust Yoo Il Rak keep his mouth shut.”

 

He makes a face, knowing full well that I can still see him in the mirror. “You just have to go there, don’t you. Can’t you let me at least pretend you like me for once?”

 

I roll my eyes; as if letting him stay with us isn’t already concession enough. “You remember what you’re supposed to do, right?”

 

Yoon Hoo nods. “Wait until the encore, then pass Nae Il the note.”

 

“Mm – and make sure she actually stays in her seat afterwards.”

 

He answers with his characteristic grin. “Of course. I’ll do that; if nothing else, the others should be able to help once they’ve caught on.” As he turns to leave – Nae Il will arrive at any second, and we can’t risk her stumbling across us both like this – he throws one last look at me over his shoulder, his expression unreadable.

 

“Congratulations, Cha Yoo Jin. It looks like you won in the end after all.”

 

Alone at last, I sit down at the dressing room table with a sigh. In the silence, my hands move of their own accord: sketching out the difficult opening of my opening piece in time with the music playing in my head. And that’s how Nae Il finds me when, several minutes later, she knocks softly on the door and lets herself in.

 

“No wonder you told me to dress up, Orabang,” she says by way of greeting, pointing a finger at the closed door. “I mean: did you see all the cameras outside?” She lets out a loud gasp, eyes wide as though still trying to process what she’s just seen. “Daebak….”

 

“You can thank Elise for that,” I answer wryly. “Or Abeoji. Or both.” I soften my expression into what I hope is a reassuring smile. “I can’t say this is what I wanted, Seollebal, but I guess it was only to be expected.”

 

“I see….So” – she turns around slowly so I could take in her outfit: a short-sleeved lace dress consisting of a black top and gold skirt – “is this good enough?”

 

My smile widens. “Of course. You look beautiful, Nae Il-ah.” A pause. “But remember: it’s not just about how you look, but also how you carry yourself.”

 

Nae Il beams, clicking her heels together as she salutes. “Gwenchanayo, Orabang. I know how much this means to you, so I’ll be on my absolute best behaviour tonight.”

 

I open my arms, letting her come in for a hug. “Komawo.”

 

I must have be more tense than I thought, because Nae Il now starts rubbing me briskly on the back with one hand. “You haven’t been this nervous before a performance since the Rachmaninoff. Is it because of Abeonim?”

 

Unbeknownst to her, I bite back a sudden urge to laugh. If only she knew.

 

Smiling sweetly at me, she pulls back, stepping out of the embrace. “Don’t worry, Orabang. Abeonim knows you’re good just as much as anyone else: he’s not here to judge you; he’s here to celebrate you and show you off like the rest of us.” She starts to rummage around in her purse. “You probably don’t want a kiss right now, Orabang, but this is the next best thing.”

 

Nae Il holds out the small surprise she’s prepared for me: a tiny foil-wrapped piece of chocolate. Just this once, I allow her to feed it to me, lest I accidentally get my hands dirty doing it myself. Then, after one last “Fighting!” for luck, she takes her leave, heading back out to the lobby where the others are waiting.

 

And now, it really is just me, as I wait for the call from the backstage crew to make my way to the stage. The dressing room is completely silent, the only sound coming from the clock on the wall, each second feeling like a minute as it ticks by.

 

Slowly, my hands clenched into loose fists at my side, I close my eyes and take in a deep breath.

 

The silence is deafening, almost suffocating.

 

No wonder Abeoji once said that loneliness was the pianist’s lot in life: we play accompaniment for others, but are left to fend for ourselves through most of our repertoire. Standing here, alone like this, I finally understand why he closed himself off: clamping down on his own feelings, telling himself that he has no need for friends.

 

I used to think that, in order to be a successful pianist, I had to do the same. Push others away. Go it alone.

 

But I’m not him. I can’t do that. I have Nae Il – and, if all goes well tonight, I will always have her.

 

And if that counts as weakness in his eyes, then so be it.

 

~~~~~

 

Virtuoso.

 

That’s what they called me, and that’s the title for tonight’s concert.

 

Unlike the Solitär, the house lights in the Wiener Saal – the same historic auditorium where Nae Il and I had done our photo shoot for RaRo – remain on, giving me a perfect view of the audience as I step out onto the stage.

 

It doesn’t take me long to spot Nae Il: right in the centre of the front row, flanked on either side by Yoon Hoo and her parents. She is unable to resist the urge to wave at me as I take my first bow; but, save for a brief smile in her direction, I keep my eyes focused on the rest of the auditorium. Almost all of the approximately two hundred seats are taken, including several film crews posted at the foot of the stage and the edge of the balcony.

 

As I take my seat on the piano bench, I allow myself one last look over the audience before fully devoting my attention to the music. My gaze lingers a fraction longer on Abeoji, seated at the end of the row closest to me, Chae Do Kyung beside him. Arms and legs crossed loosely, he leans back casually in his seat, a challenging glint in his eyes.

 

Of course you will succeed. What else do you expect? That’s what makes you the son of Cha Dong Woo.

 

Those same words, spoken by any other parent to any other child, would be a massive encouragement. Only I know the sting hidden behind them: succeed, be on top, make a name for yourself in Europe…or else.

 

Geu rae. Arasseo. Fifteen years, we’ve had to wait. But no more. Now, at long last…I’m finally ready.

 

Hushed silence falls over the auditorium as I, closing my eyes to focus on the music in my head, carefully rest my hands on the keys. Most of the pieces in tonight’s programme are old and familiar works that I learned at Haneum over the years, but not this first one. This piece is new, and it is still challenging: I need to get the opening exactly right, or the whole thing will fall apart.

 

One last second for me to count myself in – and then, I begin.

 

Music explodes out from the piano: rapidly pounding dissonant chords from the right; rolling, galloping octaves from the left. A dark, stormy night in a densely packed forest. A father riding at full speed with his son, yet no match for the evil ghostly spirits lurking in the shadows.

 

Schubert-Liszt. Erlkönig. The encore piece Abeoji chose to play on the night of the accident; the piece that I choose to start with now.

 

It’s a bold start. Like any Liszt showpiece, there is no break in the music; instead, with each stanza of Schubert’s original song, it becomes sharper, more frantic, more intense – more, more, more! – until at last, it reaches the high-pitched dissonant climax. And then…nothing. A hushed stillness, the dust settling to reveal the piece’s final heartbreaking image: the father holding his dead child in his arms.

 

This, then, is my beginning: picking up the pieces of what had shattered and burst fifteen years ago in hopes that they could be put together once again.

 

The audience bursts into applause, most of them focusing simply on the piece’s technical difficulty, completely unaware of what exactly it means to me. And that’s alright; I’d rather they didn’t know.

 

My pulse is still racing from the Erlkönig, even as I rise to bow to the audience in thanks for their encouragement. So, before I move on to my next piece, I seize a moment to take several deep steadying breaths, rolling my shoulders back to shrug off the darkness and the fear before moving on to the next piece.

 

What could possibly be virtuosic about Mozart? His melodies are so simply singable, his touch so delicate and light. Yet, for those who care to look, it’s there – and that is the case for tonight’s long-form piece: his Fantasy and Sonata in C-Minor.

 

Where most people might think of Mozart as a lovely stroll in the park, this piece is a marathon: nearly half-an-hour long in its entirety, with diverse technical and expressive demands placed on the performer. Right from the start, the Fantasy is a study in contrasts: soothing gentle passages butting right up against passionate outbursts that point ahead to the extreme dynamic shifts of Beethoven and the next generation of composers. Then, almost without break, the opening theme from the Fantasy is reshaped and developed in the impetuous and dark-tinted first movement of the Sonata. The following second movement is its one respite: a simple nursery rhyme of a melody, soft and coaxing under my fingers as a mother’s lullaby. Darkness returns in brief intervals throughout the third and final movement, but each time, it resolves into something brighter: a person smiling through tears, determined to forge on ahead no matter what challenges may come his way.

 

In the lull following the Sonata, I surreptitiously wipe down my hands with the handkerchief secreted away on the left side of the keyboard. The final two pieces of my programme are the most technically challenging of them all; and even though my palms aren’t particularly sweaty, the lights of the Wiener Saal being less concentrated or burning hot than the spotlights back in Seoul, I don’t want to take any risks.

 

The sharp contrasts in the Mozart Fantasy now find their fruition in Chopin’s Scherzo No. 2, with its tense opening, as though winding up a spring, followed closely by bursts of intensive energy: grand chords and running chromatic scales along the length of the keyboard. A soft contemplative passage in the middle slowly, almost imperceptibly, builds into an outpouring of emotion: first tentative, as if I, the player, am uncertain whether to truly open my heart; then growing stronger and stronger until it breaks forth as an ecstatic climax – so passionate that, for the first time in tonight’s concert, I fully throw my entire body into the music, nearly bouncing up off the bench as I play the final chords.

 

The audience bursts into thunderous applause with the conclusion of the Scherzo, as it always has in my past experiences playing it on the competition circuit. And it’s with this more uplifted mood in the room that I begin my finale: Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 6. A complete change of pace: brisk, lively, reminiscent of the folk dances I watched as a child accompanying Abeoji on concert trips throughout Eastern Europe. There is a slight lull in the middle – a sensually swaying Gypsy tune – before, as Yoo Il Rak would put it, the party begins. A lightly skipping dance melody emerges out of the stillness: a short refrain that starts to repeat itself, over and over again. And here lies Liszt’s genius as a virtuoso and as a showman. Each repetition grows increasingly complex as more and more flourishes are thrown into the mix: rapidly repeating octaves, massive leaps across the lower half of the keyboard in the bass, running scales – so fast the notes almost blur – in the treble…all building up to a grand celebratory finish.

 

Virtuoso. That’s what they called me – and after tonight’s performance, I doubt that even Abeoji could dispute that anymore.

 

Still reeling from the Rhapsody’s exhilarating high, I need to brace myself on the bench as I rise shakily to my feet. I step carefully to the centre front edge of the stage, eyes widening as one, then two, then more and more people in the audience also climb up on their feet in a standing ovation. From their end of the front row, my friends burst into cheers, their voices just beating out Eomma’s for volume. Smiling, I bow deeply from the waist, staying down for a moment before straightening back up.

 

Then, I see him. Abeoji. Not cheering or standing like the others, but clapping nonetheless.

 

For a moment, I wonder if, like during the Rachmaninoff, he would stop when our eyes meet, flustered that I have caught him in the act. But instead, to my surprise, he keeps going as he mouths something silently, my eyes just barely managing to make out his words: “Bravo, Wolfgang.”

 

And that’s enough to send me bowing a second time, confident that he would understand my gesture despite my continuing to face straight ahead.

 

A stagehand climbs up onto the stage, the customary congratulatory bouquet in his hands. I go through the formal motions of accepting it, pausing with each movement to allow the reporters to take their photographs, before, at his invitation, I step backstage. The applause swells, echoing through to me despite the heavy stage door as I return the bouquet to the stagehand with a murmured request for it to be sent to my dressing room. No sooner has he scurried away on his task do I reach up to pat the spot on my tailcoat where the box with Nae Il’s ring lies hidden in the breast pocket.

 

My offering to Abeoji is complete. Now, it’s Nae Il’s turn.

 

The stagehand returns, opening the door for me to step back out for my encore. Slowly, as I resume my place at the piano, the applause subsides, replaced by a deep rustling as the audience sits back down.

 

Wait until the encore, then pass Nae Il the note.

 

That’s what I’d instructed Yoon Hoo to do for me tonight; all he needs now is my signal.

 

Tonight’s encore piece – Liszt’s solo piano arrangement of Robert Schumann’s song, Widmung – is also new; like Erlkönig, I have chosen it as a message. As I begin to play its gentle soothing melody, the words I had written – the words Nae Il must be reading now – echo once more through my mind:

 

You my soul, you my heart,

You my rapture, O you my pain,

You my world in which I live,

My heaven you, to which I aspire,

O you my grave, into which

My grief forever I’ve consigned!

 

You are repose, you are peace,

You are bestowed on me from heaven.

Your love for me gives me my worth,

Your eyes transfigure me in mine,

You raise me lovingly above myself,

My guardian angel, my better self!

 

Nae Il-ah,

 

I’m sure that this song, Widmung, already holds a special place in your heart. You would know, better than I, that this was one of many compositions Robert Schumann gave to Clara in celebration of their engagement.

 

Forgive me, Nae Il-ah. I know that there have been many things that you’ve been wanting me to say to you, and this is most likely not what you envisioned for a declaration of love. But I can’t do it the way that you do: I can’t put together a grand surprise event or shout out “Saranghae” in the street for everyone to hear.

 

All I can do is tell you the truth: that every single word that Robert says to Clara here is what I’d say to you, if only I could work up the courage to do so. You are my repose and my peace; you are the one who has allowed me to become a better person than I was just a few short years ago; and it’s only because of you that I am even here: sitting proudly on this Austrian stage, playing this piece to you with all my heart.

 

We know that, historically, things turned out tragically for Robert and Clara – and, like them, we still face many fears and heartaches ahead. But let’s change all of that. Let us rewrite history, you and I. Let us create for ourselves the peace and happiness that fate so cruelly denied them.

 

Seol Nae Il…will you marry me?

 

It takes longer than I anticipated for Nae Il to react; perhaps, already guessing what this is about, she is reading slowly to savour the words. But then, just as the piece breaks into its joyous soaring climax, I hear it: a quickly stifled gasp, followed by hushed murmurs and rustles – most likely my letter getting passed up and down the row, more and more of our loved ones realizing what’s going on.

 

They burst forth with a fresh round of cheers and applause once my encore is finished. I expect Nae Il to be among them, but am caught by surprise when I actually turn to look at her. She has leapt up to her feet – Seollebal forever being Seollebal – but is silent, overwrought: one hand pressed to her mouth, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. She takes an involuntary step forward, as if about to rush the stage, but Yoon Hoo, true to my instructions, gently reaches out and holds her back. Grasping onto her shoulders, he keeps her firmly in place, leaning in to whisper something softly in her ear.

 

I rush through my remaining formal bows, smiling in farewell to the audience before slipping back out through the stage door. And then, I head straight for my dressing room, quickening my steps into something between a brisk walk and a jog in my haste.

 

Chances are, with the crowded auditorium, it will still take Nae Il several minutes to arrive. But I want to be ready for her, just in case.

 

The dressing room is empty when I finally open the door and step inside. I immediately make for the dressing table in the back of the room, taking note of my disheveled appearance in the mirror. My hand instinctively reaches up to tidy up the tousled curls in my hair, but I stop myself at the last second, remembering the time that Nae Il had complimented me for them back during the winter.

 

You may be a straight-laced “A” on the outside, but there’s a wild and passionate “S” somewhere in there, just waiting for the chance to burst out. You already show it in your music, so you might as well look the part, too.

 

Fair enough. If that’s how she wants it. It’s only right that she gets to see me as I really am.

 

I’ve just taken the ring box out of my pocket when Nae Il bursts into the room, whirling around to close the door behind her to give us privacy. Slowly, I turn around to face her, a tentative smile on my face.

 

“Nae Il-ah.”

 

She grins widely at me, and I only have seconds to set the box back down on the table before she flies up at me in a running leap. I stagger under her sudden weight, having just barely managed to catch her in my arms, but soon manage to straighten back up, shifting into a more comfortable hold.

 

“So, Nae Il-ah,” I begin, asking although I already know the answer, “what do you think?”

 

She nods enthusiastically, tears once again springing into her eyes. “Yes. Yes. A thousand times, yes!”

 

And that’s all the permission I need to seal our bond with a kiss.

 

~~~~~

 

“Ya, Yoo Jin-ah! Over here!”

 

Spotting Yoo Il Rak and Jung Si Won in the distance, Nae Il, Yoon Hoo, and I quicken our steps, meeting them right at the base of the Mozartplatz’s large statue. While Si Won smiles and nods at us in greeting, Il Rak grins widely and holds out a clenched fist in my direction. “I didn’t get a chance to say this to you properly last night, so congrats!”

 

As I tap his proffered fist with my own, he raises an impish eyebrow. “So…how was it?”

 

Nae Il and I both blink in surprise. “How was what?”

 

He scoffs. “Oh, come on! You guys’re engaged now – don’t tell me you still haven’t done it yet!”

 

Watching from his place on the sidelines, Yoon Hoo smothers a laugh while Si Won, jaw dropped open in shock, deals Il Rak a reproachful smack on the shoulder. As for Nae Il and I, it takes both of us a moment of slack-jawed astonishment before we could react.

 

“Ya, Yoo Il Rak,” I blurt out, incredulous. “Do you honestly believe we would have had the chance?”

 

“Besides,” Nae Il adds, snickering despite herself, “Orabang’s just come from promising Abeonim that we would wait. I doubt he would’ve given us his blessing otherwise!”

 

The summons came shortly after the post-concert reception last night when, after sharing a celebratory toast with our friends and family, Abeoji ordered us to join him for breakfast in his hotel room suite in the morning. There, along with Eomma and Nae Il’s parents, we discussed possible plans for the wedding, ultimately settling on holding the ceremony during the week-long break Nae Il and I had originally slotted between our final performance of the tour in Seoul and our flight back home. Once that was settled, as Nae Il happily showed off her engagement ring to the others, Abeoji pulled me aside to one corner of the room.

 

“Remember, Wolfgang,” he said to me, his approval at my choices thus far clear in his use of the nickname. “If you really love Seol Nae Il, you will do what’s right by her. Classical music is, first and foremost, about cultivating self-control and self-discipline; don’t become an insult to your own work by giving in to animal lusts now.”

 

We explain all this to the others as we make our way to the touring office from which we will begin our own plans for today: a Sound of Music-themed guided tour of Salzburg.

 

Geu rae. I’ve finally come around to it. Once we discovered that Yoon Hoo, Il Rak, and Si Won would all be here with us together, Nae Il kept begging me so much to help her make the arrangements that I eventually relented. I did, however, stop short at the large cookie-cutter bus tours that most tourists used, instead choosing a private guide with whom we could negotiate a customized itinerary if we so wished.

 

If I was going to concede by doing this tour at all, it should at least be on my terms.

 

All the others readily agreed to the plan, and we all pooled money to help cover the increased costs of a private booking. And thus, without them even knowing it, our small and intimate celebration of Nae Il and I’s engagement was born.

 

Several minutes before our 2:00 appointment, our guide – a slightly built older woman dressed casually in a blouse and jeans – emerges from the building. She greets us cheerfully in English, shaking our hands in turn and pausing to compliment Nae Il on the dirndl she’s changed into for the occasion. Then, after checking that the tour was booked under my name, she asks me to confirm the request that I had included in the reservation: “Less time spent at the filming sites in the city so you could have more at St. Gilgen – is that correct?”

 

When I answer with a nod, she makes a note on her copy of our reservation. “I think we can make that work; is one hour and a half enough?”

 

My smile widens. “That would be perfect, thank-you.”

 

Although she tries hard to hide it, she looks visibly surprised at the sound of my voice. And no wonder: having lived first in Salzburg, then Seoul, then back again, my English accent has picked up enough Korean and German inflections to become something uniquely my own – and almost entirely impossible to place.

 

That surprise only grows even more when Lee Yoon Hoo, the most fluent speaker out of all of us, steps in to take charge with his clearly American accent. Explaining where all of us are from in order to break the ice, he joins our guide in the front seat of the bright yellow van parked nearby for our use, the rest of us piling into the back.

 

Selections from the film’s soundtrack form the background to our guide’s commentary as she drives us on a quick round of the old city. She directs her words at all of us, Yoon Hoo jumping in with brief translations in Korean where necessary; and even though Nae Il’s already lived here for over two years by this point, she stares out the window in as much wide-eyed amazement as the others, marvelling at small details about the landmarks from the film that she’d never noticed before. As for me, I mainly content myself with watching everyone else: try as I might, I could not comprehend their fascination and curiosity with a place that is so familiar to me.

 

We then head for a brief stop at the Schloss Leopoldskron, our guide doing an artful job of parking the van in a spot away from the crowds of tourists spilling out from the large coach buses nearby. As we mill about on the path during the few minutes we have been given to take pictures, Nae Il points out WeiherWirt, the nearby restaurant, to the others. “That’s where Orabang and I went,” she says, “when we signed our contract. And, look!” she adds, scurrying over to the water’s edge. “Those are the ducks we saw the last time, too.” She glances back at me. “Don’t you remember, Orabang?”

 

The others glance curiously at me, but I only answer with an enigmatic smile and nod. It’s great that Nae Il is now starting to form her own memories of these places in Salzburg; but considering what else happened on the edge of this lake that day, it’s not one I want to discuss any further.

 

The Schloss Hellbrun is our next stop; and this time, I’m the one with an anecdote to share. Si Won and Yoon Hoo manage to hold back their snickers, but Il Rak laughs uproariously out loud at my description of how Nae Il and I wound up splashing around like headless chickens in the fountain to find the rings I’d dropped.

 

Then, we leave Salzburg altogether for today’s main destination: the tiny village of St. Gilgen. The drive takes us up into the hills, densely packed neighbourhoods gradually giving way to quaint chalet-style houses dotting the sides of the main road, the idyllic scenery framed by snow-capped mountains rising in the distance.

 

For the first time since our guided tour started, even I’m completely taken in by the sight. Noticing this, Nae Il, seated on the opposite end of the three-seat row from me, now cautiously takes off her seatbelt and shuffles closer, rebuckling herself in the middle seat beside me. Leaning against my side, she reaches out for my hand; I grasp it, interweaving my fingers with hers, as the two of us share a single view of the landscape.

 

During this part of the drive, our guide continues to point out the landmarks around us: ranging from naming each soaring mountain as it appears in the distance to drawing our attention to a chapel even smaller than a house. As Nae Il and I sit more closely together, however, I spot her eyes flickering up to glance at us in the rearview mirror, crinkling at the corners as she smiles at us.

 

Even with looking up pictures online in advance, none of us are prepared for the actual sight of St. Gilgen once we arrive. Our van comes to a stop at a parking lot on the crest of a hill overlooking the small village, and all five of us are reduced to slack-jawed silence as we peer out the windows at all the traditional houses clustered together beneath us on the edge of a pristine blue lake.

 

Nae Il is the first to scramble out of the van, running straight for the grassy hillside while Yoon Hoo, Il Rak and Si Won follow behind at a more leisurely pace. After conferring with our guide on a suitable time for her to pick us up, thus allowing her the chance for a short break as well, I cross the parking lot to rejoin the others.

 

With the hour-and-a-half that we have been given, it would be entirely possible for us to make our way down to explore the cafes and shops in the actual village. However, knowing that we would be here during the late afternoon, we’ve instead planned to have our own light picnic dinner. Il Rak and Si Won work together to spread out the throw blanket while Nae Il, Yoon Hoo and I lay out the food: fresh fruit and bottles of radler and juice from home; and takeaway sandwiches that we picked up from a popular vegetarian café close to campus.

 

We all pick a spot around the edge of the blanket and help ourselves, the others eagerly asking Nae Il and me about our wedding plans.

 

“Knowing you, Seol Nae Il,” Si Won says, “my guess is that you’ll want to go all-out?”

 

Nae Il, however, shakes her head. “I did think that at first,” she begins, “but what’s the point of a big fancy wedding when we’ve already been living together for a few years? And besides,” she adds, gesturing at me, “we all know how Orabang is with parties. So, actually…the simpler, the better, I think.”

 

Si Won nods at that, and both she and Il Rak readily agree when Nae Il then moves on to request their help, along with that of the rest of our friends, in making the arrangements. “Orabang and I will only get to Seoul in August, and we’ll be way too busy with our own performances to do much else for the whole first week we’re there. So I’ll need to be able to keep in touch and bounce ideas with you guys in order to make it all work.”

 

“You’ll need to actually announce the engagement on social media first, then!” Il Rak cuts in with a laugh. “Si Won-ie and I were going to tell the others last night; but since you guys haven’t said anything yet, it’s not like we could jump the gun.”

 

“Geu rae,” I concede. “We still need to do that; but how?”

 

“Why not do it at our last stop?” Si Won offers. “The chapel. With that being the same church where the wedding from the movie was filmed and” – she gestures to Nae Il’s dirndl – “you looking so dressed up today, I think a couple shot there would be a great way to share the good news.”

 

Nae Il and I exchange glances, neither of us actually having anticipated an impromptu photo shoot today. But after thinking it over for a moment, we both nod in agreement. “That would be great,” I say at length. “Komapda.”

 

Talk of the church from The Sound of Music naturally leads to us thinking about the film in general – and it’s only a matter of time before I find all four of the others looking pointedly curiously at me.

 

I let out a short sheepish laugh. “Wae?”

 

“I know you said once that you saw bits from the movie,” Il Rak begins, “but did you finally manage to get through the whole thing, Yoo Jin-ah?”

 

“I did,” I answer brusquely, turning away to stare at a random spot in the distance. “Eventually.”

 

“What he’s not saying,” Nae Il blurts out, “is that it literally took Yoon Hoo-sunbae and I each grabbing him by one arm in order to make it happen.”

 

I round on her, heat rushing to my face in mortification. “Ya, Seollebal – I–”

 

“Really?” Il Rak laughs. “Ya…I wish I could’ve seen that!” He leans in closer from his spot across from me. “So what’d you think?” When I hesitate, feeling all their eyes boring into me at once, he throws in a reassuring grin. “C’mon, Yoo Jin-ah: we’re all friends here! You can be honest.”

 

“So long as you don’t diss the music, Orabang,” Nae Il adds.

 

“I wasn’t about to,” I retort smartly. “The music, at least, was good; and Maria’s the closest movie character I’ve seen like you in terms of personality, Seollebal. However, despite all of that” – I finish with a self-deprecating shrug – “I still don’t really see what all the hype is about.”

 

“And I,” Nae Il interjects loudly, “don’t see why so many people from around here – you included, Orabang – just don’t get it. I mean, it’s such an uplifting story with everything from cute kids to gorgeous music and a beautiful romance…what’s not to love?”

 

As Si Won and Il Rak both nod silently, clearly trying to figure out which side – if any – they should pick, Yoon Hoo clears his throat softly. “Actually, if you don’t mind, Cha Yoo Jin…might I try answering that?”

 

Intrigued by his offer, I tilt my head slightly to one side. “Go on.”

 

Nodding in thanks, he turns in his seat so that he is facing Nae Il. “The Sound of Music may be a great movie for you – but have you ever thought about what it must have been like for people here while they were filming it?”

 

Her mouth opens slightly in surprise. “Sunbae….”

 

“Think about it: it was only twenty years or so after Austria lost the war, and while we can’t say this for all, the reality is that for many people back then, their memories were not of standing up against the Nazis, but of welcoming and supporting them.

 

“Now imagine that some Hollywood film crew comes along and starts putting up those red swastika banners all over the city – right where they’d actually hung in real life, mind you – to make a movie where they – not their ancestors, but they themselves – could very well have been the bad guys.” He shoots us all a pointed look. “If you were in those people’s shoes, wouldn’t you feel bad being reminded of that?”

 

“They should,” I grumble back, “if they’d supported the Nazis in the first place.”

 

Yoon Hoo looks challengingly at me. “And how do you know that negative feeling wasn’t guilt?”

 

I meet his unwavering level stare with one of my own as a tense silence settles over our entire group. For a moment, the other three glance awkwardly back and forth between us, but they soon settle on peering expectantly at me.

 

It’s only right, I suppose: as the one with the most at stake here, the final verdict should be up to me.

 

“Perhaps it was guilt,” I concede to Yoon Hoo at last. “And if it was, then that’s a welcome step towards repentance that Austria badly needed to take. If nothing else, all things considered, one good thing I can link back to The Sound of Music is that it proved that not everyone back then was a Nazi or sympathized with the Party.”

 

Il Rak nods tentatively. “Is that why didn’t you like the movie before, Yoo Jin-ah? Because of the history and what that meant to you as someone growing up in Austria?”

 

I answer with a sad smile and a shake my head. “I would love to say it was, but I’m not so noble.” Pulling my knees up to my chest, I throw in yet another casual shrug. “The truth is, I just got sick of people asking about it.”

 

His brow furrows in confusion. “Eh?”

 

“Every time I told my classmates after returning to Seoul that I was from Austria, that’s literally all they would ever talk about: singing the songs; asking me if we actually all wore dirndl and lederhosen or ate schnitzel all the time, or whether Edleweiss really was a national folk song. But that’s not the Austria I knew; the Austria I knew was the centre of classical music. I wanted to talk to my classmates about Mozart, or Beethoven – not some silly movie that only tourists cared about.”

 

We subside into silence yet again, each of us either sipping a drink or munching on a piece of fruit. I scan my eyes over the rest of the grassy hillside; several families are also out relaxing and enjoying the sunny weather, children and the occasional pet dog running around on the grass. Further off into the distance, near the cable car that takes visitors to St. Gilgen further up the hill, a daring paraglider flies past, drifting slowly with the wind towards the village below.

 

“So…where are you guys gonna go from here?”

 

Startled out of my thoughts, I look over at Il Rak. “Eh?”

 

“Now that both of your individual recitals are done,” he explains, gesturing to both Nae Il and me, “is it just prepping for the tour now?”

 

Beside me, Yoon Hoo nods. “The orchestra members have each been making their way to Salzburg these past few days, and the plan is to start rehearsals on Monday.”

 

“I see.” Il Rak nods, eyes downcast. “Too bad we can’t stick around for the premiere; that would be quite something.”

 

“Gwenchana, Rak-kun,” Nae Il answers, smiling brightly as she reaches across the mat to lay one hand overtop of his. “You’ll get your chance when we finish in Seoul – which means we’ll already be seasoned pros by then.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Are you nervous?”

 

I pause, hand just inches away from knocking on the rehearsal room door, and shoot Lee Yoon Hoo a cautious sideways glance. “Depends. Should I be?”

 

He rolls his shoulders in something resembling a shrug. “Well, you know how it is: meeting an orchestra for the first time.”

 

“Wae? Are you expecting that we’ll get hazed or something?”  When he simply answers with silence, I round on him with a short scoffing laugh. “Ya – are they kids? This is the Royal Berlin we’re talking about.”

 

“And you,” he retorts, “have never actually played in an orchestra before.”

 

My brow furrows. “Mwo?”

 

“You’ve played with an orchestra before, and you’ve certainly conducted one, but….” Yoon Hoo tilts his head slightly to one side, making a soft tsking sound. “Suffice it to say that even those of us at Juilliard were not above giving new conductors a rough time of it, so why should a professional orchestra be any different?”

 

“Well, then,” I quip back, “we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we get there.” I knock on the door at last, then turn back to face him. “Gwenchana; when it comes to breaking the ice, you do a better job than me.”

 

Yoon Hoo cracks a tiny smile at my rare compliment, but he doesn’t get the chance to respond before we hear the click of the latch starting to turn.

 

Professor Stresemann answers the door in person, greeting both of us with a smile before stepping aside to let us through. And, despite my earlier bravado, no sooner have I crossed the threshold do I find myself stumbling to a halt, Yoon Hoo doing the same beside me.

 

The orchestra is huge.

 

Of course, I knew that a professional orchestra of any sort would be larger than the student and youth orchestras I’ve worked with during the masterclasses and workshops all conducting students take part in at the Mozarteum. However, the Royal Berlin easily has close to a hundred members, each section about twice the size of its counterpart in Rising Star, and several of the members look as though they have been playing professionally for as long as either Yoon Hoo or I have even been alive.

 

Not since I was that nine-year-old boy who snuck into Viera’s rehearsal have I been in such close proximity with such an esteemed ensemble – and, loath as I am to admit it, I no longer have the unabashed innocence I did back then.

 

The orchestra members have been busy preparing and warming up in their individual places when we first stepped in, but now all eyes turn towards us as the Professor leads us up onto the podium to introduce ourselves.

 

As the senior apprentice as it were, it’s my job to go first. One hand curled loosely into a subtle fist by my side to quell the nervous tide rising unbidden in my throat, I keep my introduction short and to-the-point. Most of the orchestra members nod along, polite smiles on their faces, although a handful are unable to suppress amused smirks or twinkles in their eyes: even though I am careful to use a more standardized formal dialect, I still speak with an Austrian accent, which many Germans – especially northerners like those from Berlin – tend to find soft or even cute. Still, the friendly – albeit reserved – reception does help to alleviate some of my initial fears; by the time I reach the end, my voice has levelled, and my own formal smile has softened somewhat as I scan my eyes over the orchestra.

 

My self-introduction is met with quietly polite applause as the concertmaster steps up in front of the podium to offer me a handshake. As I step down, however, a glance out of my corner of my eye at Yoon Hoo reveals that he is standing several paces away, lips pressed together, an unreadable faraway look in his eyes. He lets out a tentative grin when I nod encouragingly in his direction, but even as he takes my place on the podium, I notice his nervous swallow.

 

That’s strange. The Lee Yoon Hoo I know is far more confident than this. Usually, he’d be the one gliding seamlessly into any sort of new situation or environment while I prefer to watch carefully first from the sidelines. Besides, if it’s an unfriendly response he’s worried about, the orchestra’s reaction to my own greeting should have reassured him.

 

So what on earth is the matter now?

 

Yoon Hoo does manage to smile out at the orchestra easily enough; however, after he stammers out a shaky “Guten Tag,” it hits me.

 

Of course. Why hadn’t I thought of that?

 

Instinctively, acting in response to the fleeting glance he shoots in my direction, I take a step closer, an offer to translate already on my lips. However, before I could actually say anything, the Professor reaches out and pulls me back by the elbow.

 

I glance at him over my shoulder. “Professor….”

 

“Leave him,” he murmurs. “If Lee Yoon Hoo is to win the respect of the orchestra, he must figure out how to do this on his own, in his own way.”

 

I subside with a nod, finally understanding what this is all about. And although I doubt he could actually hear us, hushed as our voices have been, Yoon Hoo nods subtly at us all the same. Then, after smiling in thanks at the Professor’s encouraging gesture, he presses on.

 

“Mein name ist Lee Yoon Hoo,” he says, each German word carefully enunciated, as though he has rehearsed the greeting countless times in his head. Then, after asking for and obtaining permission from the concertmaster to switch languages, he continues on in English. “My friend, Cha Yoo Jin, and I are honoured to be able to work with you all on this summer tour. We are aware that there is still much for us to learn, and want to thank you all – particularly Maestro Stresemann – for the opportunity.”

 

As the orchestra members nod in agreement, Yoon Hoo goes still. He worries his bottom lip for a second, as though mentally debating his next move. Then, to their surprise – and my amusement – he suddenly bows down from the waist. “Please take care of us,” he finishes, translating literally the standard Korean ending. “We promise we will do our best.”

 

It’s a strange, eclectic mix – but it’s just the sort of thing that Lee Yoon Hoo would do. And, if the orchestra’s applause has anything to say on the matter, it works.

 

~~~~~

 

Although it is already well past the dinner hour, the midsummer sun is still shining outside, streaming in through the large paned glass windows of the library. Even so, lest dusk fall upon us before we are able to conclude the interview, the indoor lights have been turned on as well, casting a warm glow over the pristine white bookshelves and cabinets lining all four walls.

 

The Bibliotheca Mozartiana is famous throughout Salzburg as one of the most extensive Mozart-related archives in the world; and tonight, in preparation for our premiere performance during the rapidly approaching Salzburg Festival, the three of us – Nae Il, Yoon Hoo, and I – have been invited for an interview, set to be broadcast both on local television and in Korean translation on YouTube.

 

In truth, none of us really truly wanted to be here. After a whole day spent at rehearsals with the orchestra and scattered across campus practicing our own individual concertos, we would all prefer to simply return home to rest. However, we had no real choice on the matter; in response to our protests, Elise – the PR specialist that she is – simply went ahead and booked it anyway.

 

Already, under the guidance of the camera director, we’ve completed several clips for the montages and cut scenes: opening the cabinets to leaf through the old clothbound books before huddling together at the large centre table to pore over an 18^th century copy of the same Mozart Fantasy and Piano Sonata that I performed at my recent recital, brought especially out of the archives by the production team for such a purpose.

 

It turns into the perfect way to get us to open up. Even Yoon Hoo, who has only basic knowledge of the piano, is fascinated, hovering one hand reverently over the sheet music while I, in a gesture I’ve seen countless times from Abeoji, am unable to resist playing several runs silently with my right hand.

 

By the time we take our seats along one side of the table, the reporter sitting off-camera across from us along with the interpreter who will translate our German into English for Yoon Hoo’s benefit, all three of us are much more at ease. The first questions are focused on the Salzburg festival itself, with I and – to my surprise – Yoon Hoo both admitting to attending concerts here as children.

 

Immediately, the reporter perks up in interest. “Is it possible, then, that you two knew each other already?”

 

We exchange glances.

 

“Not personally, no,” Yoon Hoo answers. “But I did know of Cha Yoo Jin already.”

 

Nae Il swivels around, looking past me at him with wide eyes. “You did?”

 

“Even though I started performing publicly in my teens,” he says, aiming his answer at the camera even as he turns to make eye contact with her, “Yoo Jin was already known well before then. I still remember,” he adds, this time to me, “watching some of your interviews on TV when I was little.”

 

“Indeed,” the reporter cuts in smoothly. “Many of us still remember when Cha Dong Woo made his home base here; we probably have some old footage of that right in our own archives.”

 

The conversation now shifts to some of the pieces we will be playing in our upcoming series of three concerts. Prior to this interview, we were asked to send notice about which ones we preferred to emphasize, but were also told to be prepared to discuss any of them.

 

Questions about the symphonies and shorter full orchestral pieces that Yoon Hoo and I have selected are simple enough. Taking advantage of the opportunity to include some sort of nod towards Vienna – a future stop on our tour – I reveal how some of my choices are inspired by the music I heard at the Vienna Philharmonic Ball. This then prompts Nae Il to jump in with her own stories from our time at the ball, although neither of us comment further on our relationship when pressed for more details.

 

Still, despite our attempts to skirt around the subject, the reporter knows a potentially juicy story when she sees one. So, seeing as we refuse to answer directly, she switches tactics by posing her next question to Nae Il: “You will be playing two piano concertos during this tour – is that right?”

 

Carefully, moving slowly so as not to be caught on camera, I nudge her softly under the table with one foot. Fortunately, Nae Il knows me well enough to take the hint, and answers with just a simple smile and nod. “Ja – one by Robert Schumann and one by Saint-Saëns.”

 

The reporter leans forward slightly in interest, her arms crossed loosely on the table. She looks Nae Il pointedly in the eye. “Well, then, which one do you prefer?”

 

“I beg your pardon, Madame,” I cut in warningly, ignoring Nae Il’s startled jolt beside me as I look the reporter penetratingly in the eye. “That’s hardly a fair question to ask.”

 

She, however, is unfazed. “Whyever not?” she asks, raising an intrigued eyebrow in my direction. “I am simply asking about the piano concertos”

 

“Concertos that, need I remind you, will be conducted by Lee Yoon Hoo and I respectively.”

 

Although Yoon Hoo probably doesn’t understand enough German to catch the details, he must have figured out the gist of what’s going on from my tone of voice, for he now leans in close enough to whisper in my ear. “Ya, Cha Yoo Jin–”

 

“Asking our soloist to choose between the concertos is akin to asking her to choose between us as conductors.” I answer the reporter’s wryly raised eyebrow with one of my own. “And that’s not being fair to any of us, is it.”

 

Awkward silence reigns over us for a moment, the reporter finally seeming to understand my stance on the issue. However, Nae Il soon cautiously leans in closer. “I don’t actually have a preference,” she says smoothly. “Even though I’m more familiar with the Schumann, both concertos have beautiful dance-like melodies and are so much fun to play.”

 

I’m unable to resist looking over at her, impressed by her diplomatic response. And that appears to finally settle the matter, as the reporter now moves on to the next topic: the night when Yoon Hoo and I will be performing as soloists. We share a laugh at our discussion of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, especially as, after some prodding from Nae Il, I finally confess to how the young apprentice’s story so parallels my own: sneaking into Maestro Viera’s rehearsals as a child, followed by fighting to lead the S Orchestra at Haneum.

 

As for Yoon Hoo, when he is asked about the Professor’s choice of Holst’s “Jupiter” as his introduction, he lets out an enigmatic smile. “I do think it’s a fair assessment. Out of all the pieces in the Planets suite, that one has always stood out to me for its pathos.”

 

“‘Its pathos’?” the reporter echoes, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

 

“Jupiter might be able to bring joy to others,” he answers, “but he carries himself with grave dignity.”

 

“Like a king?”

 

“Perhaps – but I was more thinking of someone who’s battle-weary: someone who’s been through a lot and who, while still marching on ahead, looks back to the past with regret.”

 

It’s an unexpected answer, so once again, she asks for him to elaborate. Clearly, as of this moment, Lee Yoon Hoo is the star of the interview.

 

“You are probably aware that I used to study at Juilliard as a cellist.”

 

She nods.

 

“Then you must also be no stranger to the level of competition there, especially for someone like myself who comes from a similarly competitive environment in Korea. When I left to pursue conducting at Haneum, I did so with the hope of finding a group of young musicians who did not care for marks, but who simply played music for the love of it.”

 

“And were you able to find that there?”

 

“Yes,” he answers with a smile. “I did, and it’s because of their support that I am able to come back to the cello now.”

 

“You’re right on that,” the reporter answers. She glances down briefly at her lap to consult her notes. “It’s been” – she rifles through some pages – “close to three years since you last performed on the cello, hasn’t it?”

 

“Yes. I had to take a hiatus due to unforeseen circumstances,” Yoon Hoo says calmly, “but I’m back now and I don’t intend on stopping anytime soon. That’s what the Haydn concerto is supposed to represent: fresh optimism and a new beginning.”

 

Nae Il grins at the reference to her long-ago words as the reporter nods, jotting it down as what appears to be a noteworthy quote. Once she has finished, she looks back up at him.

 

“If it isn’t too personal, would you mind sharing what those ‘unforeseen circumstances’ were?” When Yoon Hoo’s mouth falls open in surprise, she explains, “I believe many of your past listeners would like to know: why you cancelled your UNICEF benefit concert without any warning and haven’t been seen outside of Korea since.”

 

I peer cautiously at Yoon Hoo out of the corner of my eye, and I’m sure that, on the other side of me, Nae Il is doing the same. All this time, Lee Yoon Hoo has worked hard to keep his injury a secret – would he do the same again?

 

For a long moment, it does appear that he wants to do just that: his eyes cast down at some unseen spot on the floor and he unconsciously bites his bottom lip. But then, to our astonishment, he raises his head back up and looks the reporter dead in the eyes.

 

“Three years ago, I developed a severe nerve condition in my left hand: one that made playing excruciatingly painful and which needed surgery to treat.”

 

Her jaw drops. “That’s horrible!”

 

“True, so thank goodness I did get around to having it fixed. However, it could have been far worse,” he answers. “Even after transferring to Haneum, I was unable to face reality. I planned one last performance, thinking that I could hold out just long enough to give the cello a proper farewell.”

 

“So, did it work?”

 

Yoon Hoo offers up his usual enigmatic smile and shakes his head. “I pulled out and went to get the surgery instead.”

 

The reporter nods slowly. “I see…was that your own decision?”

 

“In a way, it was,” he answers. “I know now, in hindsight, that performing that night would have likely pushed my hand beyond any chance of recovery, even with surgery. But back then, in the moment….” My eyes widen when he turns to look at me. “I would probably never have realized that myself if Cha Yoo Jin hadn’t caught on and stopped me first.”

 

I stiffen in alarm, fighting back the urge to suck in a breath through my teeth, even as Nae Il rounds on both of us with a gasp. As for the reporter, she now looks over at me, a calculating glint in her eyes.

 

“Really? ‘Cha Yoo Jin,’ you say?”

 

Slowly, hidden out of sight under the table, I clench one hand into a fist.

 

Lee Yoon Hoo just had to go there.

 

~~~~~

 

“Sunbae, is that true? Was your hand really that bad? Was it really because of Orabang that – why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

 

I block out the rest of Nae Il’s questions behind me as well as Yoon Hoo’s reply as I unlock the door of the apartment, opening the latch with a violent wrench of my wrist and marching inside. Their voices follow me as I kick off my shoes and step into the foyer, the wine cupboard in the kitchen beckoning to me like a siren’s call.

 

What I wouldn’t give for a drink right now – but now is not the time.

 

The others are still going on as I abruptly turn on my heel to face them, their eyes widening when I snap my fingers in Yoon Hoo’s direction.

 

“You – come with me.”

 

His jaw drops. “Cha Yoo Jin….”

 

“Orabang….” Nae Il gasps, her words perfectly echoing his.

 

“Stay out of this, Seollebal,” I growl out, raising one hand to stop her. “This doesn’t concern you.”

 

A subtle shake of the head from Yoon Hoo keeps her from protesting, and she finally steps back just enough that I could reach in to grab him by the wrist. Leaving Nae Il still rooted to the spot in the foyer, I pull him along behind me into the living room before finally letting go, flinging myself free and rounding on him.

 

“Bravo,” I drawl out, my mouth curling into a sneer. “You must be feeling awfully proud of yourself right now.”

 

By the look on his face, it doesn’t take him long to figure out what this is about. “Look, Cha Yoo Jin: I know what I must have sounded like, but–”

 

“Shut up – you know full well what you did.”

 

Yoon Hoo recoils, blinking in surprise. “Cha–”

 

“Coming from anyone else, I could chalk up that sort of answer to stupidity – or, naivety, if that sounds better to your ears. But you’re not like that, Lee Yoon Hoo. You’re not stupid.”

 

He bristles. “I already said I didn’t mean it that way–”

 

“You saw that reporter!” I snap, cutting him off with a slash of my hand. “Even if you didn’t understand the language, you saw the look on her face. You, above all others, should have known how saying that I stopped you from performing back then could be misconstrued – which means I have little option but to believe that you did so on purpose.”

 

That seems to strike a nerve. Yoon Hoo’s eyes narrow; he draws himself up to his full height, closing the gap between us with a single long stride. “So what if I did?”

 

I stare at him, incredulous, taking an instinctive step back despite myself. “Mwo?”

 

“Let’s just say I did mean it that way,” he says, closing in a second time. “What would you do about it? And besides” – his lip curls up in a snarl – “if you are going to start counting, you can’t say it isn’t fair.”

 

“What do you mean?” I let out a scoff. “Ya, Lee Yoon Hoo–”

 

“First: the Paderewski. I’m not going to say you planned it this way, but even you can’t deny that when our concertos are compared, yours will come out on top.”

 

“Fair enough,” I concede, “but–”

 

“Second: the orchestra. Don’t think I haven’t realized that they follow you more.”

 

“Ya, Lee Yoon Hoo!” I burst out, finally succeeding in getting a word in. “That doesn’t make any sense! How the hell could I have–”

 

“Language, for one. You can actually just say what you want and they’ll understand – I can’t. Nor – unlike you – can I just sit down at the piano and play it out for them when words don’t work.”

 

My jaw drops. “Your rehearsals have still gone well, though!”

 

“Ara,” he retorts. “I know they have. All I’m saying is that if I were to play the victim to the press to put myself back on top, it’s only fair.”

 

“It’s not the same, though!” I snap, stepping forward so urgently that he retreats once again.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because…” I cut myself off with a muttered curse, unable to get my words out properly. “Because–”

 

“Stop it! That’s enough – from both of you!”

 

Both of us whirl around in surprise at Nae Il’s voice. She is standing in the living room doorway, clearly having been there the entire time. As Yoon Hoo and I gape at her, she marches resolutely into the room, exuding all the authority of an angry schoolteacher despite only coming up to our shoulders. “That’s enough. This whole thing is just one massive misunderstanding, but rather than seeing that, you two are just acting like a bunch of childish brats!”

 

My mouth opens and closes helplessly several times before I could speak. “A-aniya, Seollebal; it’s not like–”

 

“Shut up, Orabang,” she barks out. “You started it.”

 

As I stare wide-eyed at her, caught off guard by her uncharacteristically harsh rebuke, Yoon Hoo attempts to defend himself. “Mianhae, Nae Il-ah; we were just–”

 

“And you,” she says, rounding on him, “shouldn’t have added to it.”

 

Both of us stand there in silence, fidgeting awkwardly under her withering gaze. Then, to our surprise, she suddenly points behind us at the balcony. “Get out.”

 

My jaw drops. “Eh?”

 

“Get out,” she says again. “Both of you. And don’t even think about coming back in here until you’ve both cooled down.”

 

Yoon Hoo retreats readily enough, but I make an attempt to step around Nae Il before she darts over to block my path. Making a shooing motion with both hands, she herds us both backwards out through the sliding door onto the balcony before closing it without a word.

 

Immediately, I lunge for the latch, but it is too late: Nae Il has already locked it, and the only response I get when I slap one hand to the door is a text message repeating her orders from before.

 

By now, the sun has set completely. The sky is dark, the only light coming out to us from the living room on the other side of the door; an evening breeze blows down from the mountains – crisp and cool for now, but sure to become uncomfortably cold if we take too long.

 

Yoon Hoo watches our exchange, leaning back against the railing with his arms crossed. “Just give it up, Cha Yoo Jin; you know how stubborn Nae Il is.”

 

Gritting my teeth to swallow back a curse, I round on him. “Jugulae?”

 

He opens his mouth to protest, but something in my expression gives him pause. Instead, despite his better judgment, his eyes dart sideways over the edge, taking in the parking lot three storeys down. “You can’t be serious.”

 

“With anyone else, I wouldn’t be. But with you” – I take a step closer, crossing over to his side of the small confined space – “I’m not so sure.”

 

Left with no room to dodge, he watches me with wide eyes as I raise my hand, a nervous swallow indicating that his mouth has gone completely dry. But rather than acting on the impulse, after a brief pause, I swivel around abruptly, retreating to my side of the balcony, this time unable to stop myself from cursing for real.

 

For a long time, the two of us simply stay in our respective places, seconds feeling more like hours. Loath as I am to admit it, Nae Il’s rather strange method of discipline has done its work: out here on the balcony, a literal step removed from the confrontation before, all the wind seems to have disappeared from my sails – and the very thought of opening my mouth to continue where I’d left off feels almost childishly petty.

 

Still, one of us has to begin, or else we’ll be out here all night.

 

“To be honest,” I growl, my back still turned. “I am sorely tempted to punch you right now – but that wouldn’t be good for either your face or my hand.”

 

A brief pause for that to sink in, then Yoon Hoo lets out a scoff. “Am I supposed to thank you for that?”

 

“Not necessarily.” Turning to face him, I mirror his posture: leaning back against the railing with arms crossed. “That’ll depend on where the rest of this conversation goes.”

 

His eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”

 

“You say that you didn’t intend to throw me under the bus during the interview…and I believe you.”

 

He makes a face. “Mwo? But – but you said–”

 

“I only believe you,” I cut him off, raising my hand for silence, “insofar as I don’t actually think you blame me for cutting your cellist career short. I’ve seen and heard enough from you since then to know what you really think.”

 

“Arasseo,” he answers. “So, then, why–”

 

“Because, at the same time, you’re an ‘A,’ just like I am. You’ll never be one to futz around with the music or with the performances, but when it comes to just the two of us, as individuals….”

 

Yoon Hoo nods, finally starting to get it. “You don’t trust me.”

 

“Mm. Nor do I expect you to trust me either.”

 

There is a long silence before he sighs heavily. “Friends are just rivals in disguise…it looks like both of us are still bound by that. Even when we try to break free from it” – his face contorts into a sardonic sneer – “the rest of the world will just rein us back in.

 

“It’s only natural, I suppose,” he continues, uncrossing his arms to rest his elbows on the railing. “People like us, we only know how to value ourselves through the eyes of others.”

 

Now, it’s my turn to be surprised. “Mwo?”

 

“The Professor always says that I still care too much about what others – the public, the orchestra members – think about me. And although you do a better job hiding it than I do, your recital gives away that that’s true for you as well.”

 

“So?”

 

“So, about what I said just now, about you and your concerto….” He stops to let out yet another sigh. “Alright, Cha Yoo Jin, I confess: I was jealous.” He plunges on before I could get a word in. “Not in the sense that I wanted to take you down or anything; I just wished I could do the things you could. Like I’d said once: the people I like tend to end up liking you instead, and when I already have so much uncertainty about my cello to deal with…that’s a tough pill to swallow.”

 

I accept the apology with a grim nod, then raise an eyebrow, barely visible in the poor light. “And the interview?”

 

“That….” Letting his words trail off, Yoon Hoo offers me a casually self-deprecating shrug. “You know someone would have asked about my cello, sooner or later. I just told the honest truth on the matter.”

 

“Ara,” I retort, shooting him a hard look. “But that doesn’t change what happened tonight – or what will happen once the interview goes on air.”

 

He begins to ask about the television audiences, but a shake of the head from me stops him. “Ah…you mean the netizens.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

Finally realizing what this is about, he spreads out his hands in surrender. “Mianhada, Cha Yoo Jin; you should know that that’s not what I meant.”

 

I allow myself a tiny relieved smile at his admission. “Arasseo.”

 

A wry twinkle lights up in his eyes. “I take it that’s your apology?”

 

I simply answer with a dismissive shrug. Whatever makes him feel better.

 

At the sound of Yoon Hoo’s knock on the window, Nae Il immediately scrambles up from where she’d been peeling several apples and rushes to open the door. She lets him pass with a simple high-five, but demands a hug from me before allowing me back inside, the three of us sitting on the floor around the coffee table as she resumes her preparations for our dessert.

 

“So,” she says, deftly slicing the peeled apples as she talks, “have you two boys made up yet?”

 

“If finally clearing the air between us counts,” Yoon Hoo answers, “then yes.”

 

Nae Il shoots a pointed look in my direction, subtly tightening her grip on the paring knife until I, too, have answered with a nod. Then, her eyes still boring into mine, she flicks the knife slightly in Yoon Hoo’s direction.

 

“Well, then, Orabang, you know what to do. It’s Sunbae’s turn tonight.”

 

Offering me his best innocent expression, Yoon Hoo extends his left hand out to me across the table – which, after one last hesitant glance in Nae Il’s direction, I take into both of mine.

 

The routine started shortly after Yoon Hoo’s began staying with us, when he noticed how, in preparation for Nae Il’s graduation recital, I carefully massaged her hands in the evenings several times a week. He simply watched in silent curiosity at first, but after the first few times, Nae Il suggested that I start doing the same for him.

 

“After all, Orabang,” she said that first time, “Yoon Hoo-sunbae probably needs it more than me.”

 

By now, we have settled into a regular pattern, with I massaging Nae Il and Yoon Hoo’s hands on alternate nights. As he helps himself to the apple slices with his right hand, I focus on his left, using a firm but gentle pressure to work out the tension from his practice-stiffened fingers and palm. The tips of his fingers are hard and rough, the callouses that had already faded by the time he came to Haneum finally grown back with increased practicing. His jaw drops open in a silent gasp when I reach a particularly tense spot near the base of his thumb – the same spot now marked by a tiny scar from his surgery – but after a moment’s pause, he nods for me to continue.

 

Nae Il looks on carefully as a work, staying quiet at first but eventually unable to resist the temptation to ask: “So…what did you guys talk about?”

 

Focused as I am on the massage, Yoon Hoo takes over to fill her in on the details. Once he has finished his account, Nae Il nods solemnly.

 

“Orabang’s right: netizens are no joke.” She glances carefully between us, lips pursed slightly in thought. “So, is there anything we can do? About the interview, I mean?”

 

The same question has been in the back of my mind since I came back inside, but before I could fire back with a request for more time to think, Yoon Hoo turns to her.

 

“Can you grab my phone, juseyo?”

 

As Nae Il scrambles to obey, I peer questioningly up at him; however, he simply answers me with a subtle shake of the head and one of his classic enigmatic smiles.

 

I have just switched over to Yoon Hoo’s right hand when Nae Il returns. She makes to pass the phone over to him, but he stops her with yet another shake of the head. “Actually, Nae Il-ah, can you take a picture of us right now?”

 

Both of us blink at him in surprise.

 

“You asked what we could do about the interview,” he points out matter-of-factly. “Well, I think that we should take a page out of Cha Yoo Jin’s book for once.”

 

My jaw drops. “Mwo?”

 

“Think back to Rising Star for a second – how did you handle the infighting back then?”

 

Finally, it clicks. “Are you suggesting that we should light the fuse ourselves?”

 

“Not quite,” he answers, his lips twitching up in amusement. “But we can at least beat the media at its own game.”

 

By this time, Nae Il is ready with the phone, but she looks back and forth between us in confusion. “What do you mean?”

 

“Fortunately for us,” he explains, “the interview was not a live broadcast. Although that was why Cha Yoo Jin was concerned at first–”

 

“Since we don’t know how the footage will be edited–”

 

“That also means that we have time to make our position clear before it goes on air.”

 

Eager to do anything to keep the peace between us, Nae Il agrees readily enough to his request: snapping several photos as I finish the massage. Then, once we have settled on which shot to use, Yoon Hoo posts it on his Instagram, including a caption describing the roles Nae Il and I have played in helping him prepare for his comeback performance.

 

“That takes care of your fans for now,” I point out as, satisfied, Yoon Hoo pockets his phone, “but what about the interview itself? You know how fickle popular opinion can get; just because people are convinced that we’re allies now doesn’t mean they won’t change their minds once that gets out.”

 

“That’s where you come in.” He shoots me a pointed look. “You’ve been keeping in touch with Elise all this time, right?”

 

I nod. “So?”

 

“You know how we’ll have access to the final edited version before it’s actually posted online? For the sake of the Korean subs?” When I nod a second time, he adds, “Maybe we could have Elise put a word in for us, so that we could vet the footage before the first broadcast as well. That won’t change what was said, but if we can see how the television network plans to spin it–”

 

“If it makes either of you look bad,” Nae Il finishes, “we can ask them to cut that bit.”

 

Yoon Hoo grins. “Exactly!”

 

As they share an excited high-five, however, I have one final question: “And what does Elise have to do with this?”

 

He rounds on me with a knowing look. “Out of all three of us here, you’re the one who knows her best – not to mention the one that she likes most. If the network listens to us, then fine; but if not….” His grin takes on a slightly mischievous edge. “Well, it helps to have someone like her on our side.”

 

~~~~~

 

Looks like you guys had a blast last night! Can’t wait to see your concerts ourselves in August!

 

As Nae Il helps me shrug on my tailcoat, I skim over the congratulatory message from Yoo Il Rak displayed on Yoon Hoo’s phone, nodding for him to put it away when I am done.

 

The comment had been written this morning, on the set of backstage photos from last night’s concert Yoon Hoo posted on Instagram. However, with my day already packed with preparations for tonight’s concert – the second of our set of three, and my official debut as the Royal Berlin’s guest conductor – I’d barely had a chance to glance at my own phone, let alone anyone else’s.

 

In the mirror, I can see Yoon Hoo helping himself to the plate of miscellaneous finger foods and snacks put out for us by the concert hall staff: a complimentary service that none of us had experienced at Haneum, but also the only thing serving as our dinner tonight.

 

“How’s your hand?”

 

He glances down at it before offering me a casual shrug. “It’s not perfect; rehearsing for and then playing a full concerto will do that to you. But still” – he carefully flexes it, curling his fingers into a loose fist before stretching them out to their fullest extent – “it’s not as sore as I thought it would be. More importantly,” he adds with a smile, “I survived, and that’s what matters.”

 

Nae Il darts a knowing look in his direction. “Well, considering everything you said in the interview, Sunbae, I don’t think anyone would have given you a hard time even if things did go wrong.”

 

Despite my earlier misgivings, the interview had ultimately turned out to be a success. Elise, whom we’d ultimately decided to inform about the situation regardless, had put up just enough fuss for a network manager to review the footage. The vetting process came back with surprising results: while the questions about Yoon Hoo’s cello were initially ruled to be acceptable, the more personal loaded questions about Nae Il’s concertos were deemed far too unprofessional for a broadcast meant to showcase us as young musicians. Thus, we were able to negotiate a refilming of the problematic parts, during which Yoon Hoo was able to clarify his earlier comments about his injury, highlighting that it was Nae Il and I’s intervention that allowed him to receive the surgery in time for any chance of a comeback at all.

 

Nae Il now joins Yoon Hoo by the snacks while I do up my bowtie, finishing just in time to spot her reaching for a chocolate-covered strawberry on the dessert platter.

 

“Ya, Seollebal!” I call out with a laugh. “At least start with something savoury, why don’t you.”

 

She grins sheepishly at me. “Ne, ne – arasseyo.” Opting instead for a cheese-topped cracker, she bends forward as she pops the bite-sized morsel in her mouth, careful not to let any crumbs fall on her long dark blue dress. One of the two concert gowns she bought to use for the start of her touring career, it is almost entirely plain, save for some colourfully embroidered flowers on the bodice and sleeves – and a deeply plunging back.

 

I let my eyes linger on the exposed skin of her back for a second longer than is proper, until finally, Yoon Hoo cuts in with a subtle cough.

 

“I know she’s your fiancée and all, Cha Yoo Jin – but you do realize I’m still here, right?”

 

As I, cheeks flushing red, tear my eyes away, stammering out a hurried explanation that I wasn’t thinking what he suspects, Nae Il offers a casual shrug, head tilting slightly when she gives him a coy smirk.

 

“Gwenchanayo, Sunbae; why else do you think I chose to wear this dress tonight instead of the other one?”

 

Her teasing finally pushes me over the edge as, much to her amusement, I burst into a coughing fit. Immediately, Yoon Hoo passes me my water bottle; I accept it with a word of thanks, taking a long drink before rounding on Nae Il.

 

“Ya, Seollebal – jinjja?!”

 

Fortunately, Nae Il decides not to push the matter further, and all three of us focus instead on eating, polishing off the crackers, cut-up vegetables and dip as our conversation shifts to the performance.

 

“You know, Nae Il-ah,” Yoon Hoo says, “I honestly wouldn’t have minded if you’d claimed the Schumann concerto as your favourite.” Pausing for a bite of his carrot stick, he adds, “After all, we all know that it actually means something to you.”

 

“Ara,” she quips back, punctuating her response by starting on that strawberry, now finally having my permission to move on to dessert. “But,” she continues, her words muffled, “that’s not something the whole world needs to know right now.”

 

“Wae?”

 

“Because that’s not fair to you, Sunbae,” she answers bluntly. “Nor, to be honest, is it fair to Orabang.”

 

Our eyes widen in surprise. “Eh?”

 

“I’m not like other girls. I don’t just look to Clara Schumann because she was a famous female pianist, but also because she was Robert Schumann’s wife. But if I come out and say that now, before we’re actually married….”

 

“You’re worried that the audience’s minds would go to…let us say, other aspects of Schumann’s life,” Yoon Hoo finishes diplomatically.

 

She nods. “It’s just for now – I’ll open up about it publicly after the wedding, once my contract starts – but right now, let’s just keep it between us.”

 

Smiling proudly at her response, I reach out to give her a pat on the head, but stop myself at the sight of her carefully braided hair. Instead, I shift my hand to the open back of her dress, somewhere just between her shoulderblades. Nae Il’s eyes widen in surprise at first; then, almost imperceptibly, she leans back, relishing the electric feeling of my touch against her bare skin just as much as I am.

 

There’s no way that Yoon Hoo doesn’t notice what passes between us; however, he is gracious enough not to comment. Instead, after a quick glance down at the time displayed on his phone, he seizes the opportunity to excuse himself.

 

“I’d better get over to the Professor; it’s almost time to start.”

 

Nae Il offers him a cheery word of thanks, which Yoon Hoo reciprocates with a smile as he makes his way for the door. Then, eager to have the last word as always, he comes to a stop, one hand resting on the latch.

 

“I can’t say I like you all that much as a person, Cha Yoo Jin, but as a conductor and as a musician, there’s nothing I can fault you for. So don’t worry about tonight – you’re going to do great.”

 

He steps out into the hallway before I could come up with a reasonable response, once again leaving me staring slack-jawed at the door as it swings shut behind him. Instead, with only Nae Il as a possible recourse, I turn to face her with a shudder.

 

“Damn that butter boy. At least that’s the last I’ll see of him until this whole thing’s over.”

 

She, however, is unconvinced at my display, giving me a teasing smack on the arm before returning to the food with a shrug. Silence falls over both of us, but then I sidle carefully up beside her, draping one arm over her shoulders.

 

“What you said before, about your concerto…komawo.” Smiling fondly down at her, my hand tightens in an affectionate squeeze. “I haven’t even thought of that as a reason before, but you’re right.”

 

Returning my smile in kind, she leans into my side, one arm wrapping around my waist. “Of course, because I promised Abeonim that I’d look out for you.”

 

“Trust you to say that, Seollebal.”

 

We stay together like this for a moment, listening as the noise from outside gradually picks up: the orchestra members making their way onto the stage in the Mozarteum’s large Grosser Saal. Knowing we only have a few minutes at most before my own call comes, we scurry over to my dressing room mirror. I give myself one last look over, one hand reaching up to brush back a stray lock of hair on my forehead until Nae Il, who is applying one last coat of lip gloss, stops me with a shake of the head. Then, as we have done countless times before her performances, she hands me the heart-shaped pendant necklace I’d given her, standing still so I could carefully clasp it around her neck.

 

When, finished, I step back, she gives me a grateful smile, raising her right hand so she could admire her engagement ring – worn on that side in Austrian style – alongside the necklace. The yellow jewel forming the centre of the tiny edelweiss sparkles in the bright lights of the vanity mirror, hinting at how it will do the same under the spotlights once she is on stage.

 

At last, we hear the gentle knock on the door, followed by a stagehand calling out that there are only five minutes left. Recognizing my cue, I excuse myself from Nae Il, cupping one hand to her cheek.

 

“I’ll come back as soon as intermission starts. And then, after that, our concerto.”

 

She smiles, touching her hand to mine for just a second before letting me go. Halfway to the door, however, she calls me back.

 

“Wait, Orabang – there’s one more thing.”

 

My mouth opens to ask her what she means, but before any words could come out, she’s already got her hands on my shoulders, bouncing up on tiptoe to give me a kiss. She keeps it short – no more than a simple peck, really – but it’s enough to bring a flush of heat to my face as she settles back down.

 

“Seol – Seol Nae Il,” I stammer, my pulse ringing in my ears, “wha–”

 

“Nothing,” she says, grinning mischievously up at me. “That’s just for good luck.” Still smiling, she now holds up a clenched fist. “Fighting!”

 

Still reeling, I return the gesture as Nae Il walks me to the door. She doesn’t step out into the hallway with me, but lingers on the threshold, waving goodbye as I, rolling my shoulders back and straightening up to my full height, take in a deep steadying breath before, at last, I turn smartly on my heel and head for the stage.

 

Abeoji once said that loneliness was the pianist’s lot in life. But I’m not just a pianist. I am a conductor. And I know that with an orchestra – with Seol Nae Il – by my side, I will never be lonely again.

 

Author's Notes (in "Hidden Contents" because of spoilers)

Spoiler

Okay, you guys might not like me for this, but I might as well just come out and say it: this is the second-last installment of Seolleim in Salzburg. So after the finale (which I expect to have ready sometime early in the fall), that's it for this particular series.

 

But that being said, here's the behind-the-scenes look at what went into this fic! It's got not one, but two full concerts, so lots of listening clips for you ahead!

 

1. Nae Il's Graduation Concert

 

In this case, I drew some inspiration from Nae Il's competition appearances in the original drama, as well as what I could find of the graduation requirements for piano students at the Mozarteum (a one-hour recital featuring both solo and chamber works). I also drew on what I experienced from my own piano exams growing up, where students need to include pieces from a variety of composers and time periods - chances are, most students will be better in some areas over others, but the exam is about assessing a general knowledge of how musical interpretation and piano technique differ between, say, Bach and Liszt or Debussy (to name a few examples).

 

So first, a quick run-down of the visuals before getting on with the music.

 

The venue: the Solitär, one of several auditoriums on the Mozarteum's main university campus.

 

http://martinabarlotta.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/Solitar2cut.jpg

 

The real-life inspiration behind Nae Il's dress (this one, I imagine to be a rental, as is usual for her - but that's going to change). 

 

 

And now...the music!

 

1. Scherzo No. 2 in C-Minor by Clara Schumann

 

By the way, if you get the chance, I highly recommend you check out the pianist in this video. Like Nae Il, she's a young up-and-coming musician who's also decided to make a point of focusing on Clara Schumann's music for the 2019 bicentennial - not a direct inspiration for my writing, but evidence that, yes, this has really been a thing  

 

 

2. Toccata in E-Minor by J.S. Bach

 

If you notice that what you hear in this recording is different from how I described Nae Il's version in the fic...you're right. Nae Il's interpretation here is actually my own (more inspired by how it sounds on a harpsichord), as this is one of the few piano pieces I've featured in these fics that I actually know how to play.  It's just that I'm never gonna be good enough to feel comfortable recording myself, so let's just listen to the pros, okay?

 

I can also point out that what I say about Nae Il's posture while playing Baroque pieces on the piano is also based on my own personal habits  

 

 

 

3. Rondo a Capriccio ("Rage Over a Lost Penny") by Beethoven

 

I think, after listening to this, you'll see why Cha Yoo Jin thought this was a good reflection of "Seollebal"  

 

 

 

4. Carmen Fantasy by Franz Waxman

 

This, along with Sarasate's rendition, is one of the most well-known violin+piano arrangements of music from Bizet's famous opera. Both are key pieces in the virtuosic violin repertoire, but I went with Waxman's take because it has a slightly larger piano part.

 

 

 

5. Nuit du Nord by Franz von Vecsey

 

A relatively new discovery for me (I only came across it recently by chance on YouTube), I chose this piece for Nae Il's programme as a point of contrast with everything else she's done so far. And, for those of you with perfect pitch out there, the violin part hits some pretty weird notes because the piece requires the G-string to be tuned down to F#. If you know what I mean, you'll know - if not, just sit back and enjoy the music. 

 

 

6. Piano Sonata No. 2 in G-Minor by Robert Schumann

 

By the way, what Nae Il says about the piece's fourth movement is true: Robert initially had something else in mind, but Clara asked him to change it. She wrote to him saying that although she understood his initial version and could play it, she worried that other pianists wouldn't - and she was already knowledgeable enough about audience's tastes from a childhood spent performing professionally that Robert actually listened.

 

Also, no-one I've heard quite pulls off the frenetic-yet-still-controlled tempo like Martha Argerich (the pianist playing here) does. She's one of my personal favourite interpreters of Robert Schumann's work, to be honest - and some people argue that her approach is as bold as Clara's supposedly was back then.

 

 

So that's it for Nae Il's recital - moving on!

 

2. Yoo Jin's Solo Recital

 

This programme was a lot of fun to put together - mostly because I actually had the freedom to choose whatever periods/composers/whatever I wanted. That's the plus of being a professional soloist rather than a student  

 

The venue: the Wiener Saal, the smaller of the two historic auditoriums in the Mozarteum.

 

 

 

And while Yoo Jin is wearing his usual tailcoat (so no pics of that - use your imagination ), he did ask Nae Il to "dress up", so here's my inspiration:

 

 

And now, once again, the music!

 

1. Erlkönig by Liszt (an arrangement of an earlier song by Schubert)

 

This piece also figures in my earlier fic "The True Viennese Waltz", so it may help to go back there to see how it figures in Yoo Jin's life.

 

 

 

2. Fantasia and Sonata in C-Minor by Mozart

 

This is probably one of the most demanding out of Mozart's piano pieces - so if you're used to more delicate or dainty stuff (like Eine Kleine Nachtmusik), then this may come as a surprise.

 

 

3. Scherzo No. 2 in B-Flat Minor by Chopin

 

So, the YouTube video I found for this doesn't allow embedding, so have this link instead. Hey, whatever works, right?

 

4. Hungarian Rhapsody No. 6 by Liszt

 

I do want to point out that as far as renditions of this piece are concerned, this one is a tad slower and longer than what is the norm now (c. 8 minutes when most now aim for 6.5 or 7). However, I think this comes closest to the combination of virtuosity and control that I imagine Yoo Jin would have actually had in his performance. Especially the end - many of the faster interpretations tend to go into "runaway train" territory by the end, and even if Yoo Jin was capable of playing at that faster tempo...I doubt he'd do so with his father in the front row  

 

 

5. Widmung by Liszt (arrangement of an earlier song by Schumann)

 

And now we come to the proposal piece  While Liszt's piano arrangement does an amazing job as it is in matching the romantic mood of Schumann's original, I highly recommend listening to the original song anyway.

 

Also, I think it goes without saying, but I looked up an English translation of the lyrics for the actual fic.

 

 

lol - Who said Cha Yoo Jin wasn't romantic?  Okay, so it's still a "once in a blue moon" sort of thing, but once he does put his mind to it...enough said.

 

3. Salzburg and The Sound of Music

 

I can't claim to be an expert here, but let's just say that the general Austrian public has something of a love-hate relationship with The Sound of Music. On the one hand, the film helped put Austria back on the map for English-speaking countries after World War Two - and helped to show that, no, not everyone back then was a Nazi. But on the other hand, the stereotypes, historical and cultural inaccuracies, the general overrated-ness of the film when there's so much else about their country that Austrians take pride in mean that all the hype surrounding this one movie gets old really, really fast.

 

However, that being said, you work with what you've got, and so Salzburg's tourism industry is more than happy to cater to all the fans out there. So guided sightseeing tours focused around the movie are a thing, with several companies each offering slightly different experiences. The one I used here was inspired by this touring company, as well as this clip from the Salzburg-themed episode of Battle Trip (because, yes, The Sound of Music is huge in Korea, which, in my fics, wound up driving mini-Yoo Jin nuts):

 

 

I also want to point out that Yoon Hoo's take on the issue (that the filming process was a harsh reminder of what Austria was like while the Nazis were in power) was inspired in part by my own experience watching a stage performance of The Sound of Music. When it got to the scene where the family has their concert near the end, the entire theatre went dark (set change) and when the lights went on, a number of red swastika banners had been unfurled all over the room. All of a sudden, we were the audience for their performance and we were the Nazis. It was freaky, to say the least, and it made me wonder just what people who had lived in Salzburg during the war would have felt to see that part of their past recreated in their own city.

 

4. Miscellaneous Stuff

 

So here's when we get to the things that don't quite fit anywhere else.

 

1. Yoon Hoo's concerto

 

Although the pieces from their tour will figure more prominently in the next (and final) installment of Seolleim in Salzburg, I do want to let you guys listen to Haydn's Cello Concerto No. 1 in C-Major as Yoon Hoo is shown playing snippets of it in this fic:

 

 

2. Austrian vs. German dialects of German

 

I do touch on this sometimes in my fics, but there are many regional dialects and accents of German out there; generally speaking, you'll be able to figure out where someone's from (or where they learned German if they did it as foreign language) based on their word choice, accent, etc. I hadn't really had a good opportunity, however, to show just how different Austrian and German dialects can get, but I can now. This video is perfect because it has an Austrian from Salzburg (albeit living in Vienna) and a German from Berlin chatting with each other, with full English subs. Even if you don't understand what they're saying, just sit back and listen to just how different they can get at times (and how mutually amusing those differences are):

 

 

3. Tour Preparations

 

I think I'll leave you guys to look up the Salzburg Festival on your own, but in the meantime, here are some of the visuals I've put together for the second half of this fic.

 

The Bibliotheca Mozartiana - Where the interview takes place

 

 

The Grosser Saal of the Mozarteum - Where the concerts take place

 

 

Nae Il's Concert Dress - including that infamous back  

 

 

 

 

So, that's it for this fic. If anyone wants to access a Master List of all my fanfics, they can find it under the "About Me" tab on my profile page. 

 

Thanks for reading - and I'll see you next time!

[kireeti2]

10 hours ago, kittyna said:

My mouth opens to ask her what she means, but before any words could come out, she’s already got her hands on my shoulders, bouncing up on tiptoe to give me a kiss. She keeps it short – no more than a simple peck, really – but it’s enough to bring a flush of heat to my face as she settles back down.

Lol,we didn't get to see them kiss in the drama series, at least we get to is that fan fiction. I wasn't expecting this sudden kiss, since cha yoo Jin sort of gets nervous whenever Nae il get close to him

But, I find few paragraphs in the fiction familiar, like, it felt like I had already read them before, especially the beginning paragraphs

 

[kittyna]

7 hours ago, kireeti2 said:

But, I find few paragraphs in the fiction familiar, like, it felt like I had already read them before, especially the beginning paragraphs

 

I thought you knew about this already - I have been posting previews/teasers of this fic well before posting the whole thing yesterday. That's why some parts are repeated  

 

7 hours ago, kireeti2 said:

Lol,we didn't get to see them kiss in the drama series, at least we get to is that fan fiction. I wasn't expecting this sudden kiss, since cha yoo Jin sort of gets nervous whenever Nae il get close

 

lol - Neither was Yoo Jin, so that makes two of you  

 

Another promo shot from Ghost and the cast rotation schedule

[kireeti2]

35 minutes ago, kittyna said:

 

I thought you knew about this already - I have been posting previews/teasers of this fic well before posting the whole thing yesterday. That's why some parts are repeated  

To be honest, your previews/teasers sometimes feels like full version of fan fiction, no offenece

 

38 minutes ago, kittyna said:

 

36 minutes ago, kittyna said:

lol - Neither was Yoo Jin, so that makes two of you

Nae-il really is unpredictable

39 minutes ago, kittyna said:

 

Another promo shot from Ghost and the cast rotation schedule

Looks like Joo won back himself of  2013-2014 vesrion, where he was like doing drama , movie and Musical drama simultaneously, except for variety show. Maybe  he will be in a variety show to promote "Alice". Or at least in a radio show both are okay with me

[kittyna]

3 hours ago, kireeti2 said:

Nae-il really is unpredictable

 

She's simultaneously unpredictable (for the reasons you've described), but also completely predictable, because...come on, you know she'll try to jump Yoo Jin whenever she gets the chance  

 

3 hours ago, kireeti2 said:

To be honest, your previews/teasers sometimes feels like full version of fan fiction, no offenece

 

No worries - that's actually rather high praise, so I'll take it 

 

3 hours ago, kireeti2 said:

Maybe  he will be in a variety show to promote "Alice". Or at least in a radio show both are okay with me

 

I loved what he did with Joo Won's Life Log back then, but I understand that it'd be a bit much right now. But maybe a guest appearance on one of SBS's variety shows or even just some more behind-the-scenes VLive broadcasts will be nice  

[mystylee33]

3 hours ago, kireeti2 said:

To be honest, your previews/teasers sometimes feels like full version of fan fiction, no offenece

 

Nae-il really is unpredictable

Looks like Joo won back himself of  2013-2014 vesrion, where he was like doing drama , movie and Musical drama simultaneously, except for variety show. Maybe  he will be in a variety show to promote "Alice". Or at least in a radio show both are okay with me

 

I'm okay with both too.  I really miss his appearance in a variety shows i guess my wishlist for him will be completed start from drama, movie and now he's back to musical. It would be nice too if he go for a show like 'Life Log' where we can see a glimpse of his daily life atleast  

[kireeti2]

1 hour ago, kittyna said:

No worries - that's actually rather high praise, so I'll take it 

Phew!

1 hour ago, kittyna said:

 

She's simultaneously unpredictable (for the reasons you've described), but also completely predictable, because...come on, you know she'll try to jump Yoo Jin whenever she gets the chance  

I meant that she is unpredictable for Cha yoo Jin, like he surprised by her every action

1 hour ago, kittyna said:

But maybe a guest appearance on one of SBS's variety shows or even just some more behind-the-scenes VLive broadcasts will be nice

We are not getting much from Vlive, like, I want him to interact with others, it is more fun to watch Joo won interacting with other variety show stars. In one episode of   Running Man, they tried to make him feel welcomed and made him participate in activities

1 hour ago, mystylee33 said:

 

I'm okay with both too.  I really miss his appearance in a variety shows i guess my wishlist for him will be completed start from drama, movie and now he's back to musical. It would be nice too if he go for a show like 'Life Log' where we can see a glimpse of his daily life atleast  

But I don't know if the life vlogs will be readily available for us to watch. I would prefer Joo won yo participate in some variety show, and it will most probably be "Running Man" and it would be fun to watch if Kim Hee-seo joins him

[kittyna]

9 hours ago, mystylee33 said:

It would be nice too if he go for a show like 'Life Log' where we can see a glimpse of his daily life atleast

 

That's what I liked about Life Log - I learned so much about what went into, say, preparing for a drama or musical role or how much actually happened during something as seemingly simple as a photo shoot.

 

7 hours ago, kireeti2 said:

I want him to interact with others, it is more fun to watch Joo won interacting with other variety show stars. In one episode of   Running Man, they tried to make him feel welcomed and made him participate in activities

 

7 hours ago, kireeti2 said:

I would prefer Joo won yo participate in some variety show, and it will most probably be "Running Man" and it would be fun to watch if Kim Hee-seo joins him

 

We'll have to see if it happens, then  

 

7 hours ago, kireeti2 said:

I meant that she is unpredictable for Cha yoo Jin, like he surprised by her every action

 

lol - You'd think he'd know by now, right? But somehow, Nae Il still manages to get him Lord knows how.

 

So, now that I've just finished one large fic...this is that lull that usually sets in, where I want to do something interactive to get my creative juices flowing again in order to plan for the next story  And since I haven't done Scattergories in a while, let's go with that  

 

This time, the theme is pretty straightforward: since @kireeti2 and I were recently chatting about food (or, more specifically, my being a total wimp when it comes to spice ), Food and Drink will be the main theme. 

 

Spoiler

Scattergories - Food and Drink Edition

 

Just a reminder of how this works: for each of the following prompts, answer with one character from JW's dramas. You can add further explanation if you want, but just a name (or description if you've forgotten the name) is fine.

 

Now, this time, because the theme is not directly related to any specific role (e.g. male lead, female lead, etc.), I want to set some constraints on which characters we could choose - because there is such a thing as being overwhelmed by too much choice  So, for any of these prompts, please keep your answers to the following:

• First male/female leads
• Second male/female leads
• The families of the first and second male/female leads
• The Nae Il's Cantabile ensemble cast: i.e. the Haneum student body and faculty as a whole

Also, as usual, repeating characters is okay. Just be honest, and go with your gut instinct.

 

Ready? Here goes - and have fun!

 

1. The biggest caffeine addict

2. The one who thinks he/she can cook - but who actually sucks at it

3. The one who is most likely to treat his/her partner with breakfast in bed

4. The biggest spice fiend (i.e. the one who'd like spicy food the most or who could tolerate the spiciest)

5. The one who is most likely to get the K-drama "street food makeover" (i.e. a rich/upper class character who tries street food for the first time and loves it)

6. The best home cook

7. The one who is most likely to treat his/her partner to dinner at a high-end restaurant

8. The pickiest eater (you decide what counts as "picky")

9. The one who is most likely to gain weight from eating too much

10. The one who is most likely to skip meals when stressed/busy/etc.

 

As usual, there's no deadline for this - just feel free to share your responses whenever they're ready  

[kittyna]

New Alice stills - this time, featuring Park Jin Gyeom's high school self

 

Okay, I'll be honest: I wasn't really feeling JW's performance as a teenager/high school student in the trailers we've seen so far. But these pictures...I take that back. It's freaky how young and vulnerable he looks in these two shots - especially the one on top, which also has a vague Park Si On vibe to it.

[kireeti2]

23 minutes ago, kittyna said:

Okay, I'll be honest: I wasn't really feeling JW's performance as a teenager/high school student in the trailers we've seen so far. But these pictures...I take that back. It's freaky how young and vulnerable he looks in these two shots - especially the one on top, which also has a vague Park Si On vibe to it.

Yeah, director wouldn't had allowed it if it was not convincing, it's like first thing a director sees in an actor, if he could pull that look or not and also make up team these days are equipped with techniques which will make a person look 20 years younger than one's age

2 hours ago, kittyna said:

repeating characters is okay. Just be honest, and go with your gut instinct.

Gut instinct? It's more like memory, since I have to recall each and every character of Joo won's drama

2 hours ago, kittyna said:

1. The biggest caffeine addict

Cha Yoo Jin, because his mom opened cafe for him, like she knows he would at least visit it to drink coffee, which sort of makes him a caffine addict

2 hours ago, kittyna said:

2. The one who thinks he/she can cook - but who actually sucks at it

Nae-il, I thought Baek Ja-Eun would fit this profile, but at the end of the drama she seems to have mastered at cooking

2 hours ago, kittyna said:

3. The one who is most likely to treat his/her partner with breakfast in bed

Kim Tae-Hyun, when you have a wife like Han Yeo Jin , you are bound to do such things (romantic)

2 hours ago, kittyna said:

4. The biggest spice fiend (i.e. the one who'd like spicy food the most or who could tolerate the spiciest)

Park si-on, he can devour any kind of food

2 hours ago, kittyna said:

5. The one who is most likely to get the K-drama "street food makeover" (i.e. a rich/upper class character who tries street food for the first time and loves it)

I tried reacalling,  but it seems like no one fits in this description. I will go with Gu Ma-Jun's sisters (both of them)

2 hours ago, kittyna said:

6. The best home cook

You have to ask? Cha yoo Jin

2 hours ago, kittyna said:

7. The one who is most likely to treat his/her partner to dinner at a high-end restaurant

Gu Ma Jun, because of his mother's upbringing

2 hours ago, kittyna said:

8. The pickiest eater (you decide what counts as "picky")

Han Yeo Jin, I just went with  my gut instinct

2 hours ago, kittyna said:

9. The one who is most likely to gain weight from eating too much

This question is weird. I know this condition exists, but it has to do with genetics and metabolism of  a person. And clearly suck kind information of the casts are not mentioned in credits of the drama. But, I will play along. It'll be park si-on, we is like always eating in the drama and also he a doctor, so no matter how much food he has it'll burner out because of running from pillar to post to help the patients

2 hours ago, kittyna said:

10. The one who is most likely to skip meals when stressed/busy/etc.

Cha yoo Jin and Kim tae Hyun, again going with my instincts, no particular reason

 

 

I must say, this felt less stressful than previous scattegories, maybe it's because food is involved

[mystylee33]

Joo Won Transforms Into A Determined Detective For Upcoming Sci-Fi Drama “Alice”

 

SBS’s upcoming drama “Alice” has revealed new stills of Joo Won in character!

 

“Alice” is an emotional science-fiction drama starring Joo Won as a detective who discovers the existence of time travel and winds up crossing paths with a woman who resembles his dead mother (played by Kim Hee Sun).

Joo Won’s character Park Jin Gyeom is a strong and charismatic detective who was born apathetic. He feels no emotion whatsoever and is always cold and stoic, until one fateful day when everything changes in his life. His one and only goal is to catch the culprit who killed his mother when he was in high school.

In the newest stills, Park Jin Gyeom is at shooting practice. His cold eyes are pinned on his target, and his stiff expression is filled with concentration and determination.

The production team of “Alice” commented, “Joo Won’s character Park Jin Gyeom is a character who was born apathetic and slowly changes throughout the story development. It is an impossible role to portray without thorough character analysis and delicate expressions. Joo Won was able to pull this off with his intense passion. In addition, you will be able to see Joo Won’s action scenes, which have become more powerful since his discharge from the military. Please look forward to the drama.”

 

“Alice” premieres on August 28 at 10 p.m. KST

 

 

 

 

Credit. Soompi