No More Thug Life, I’m Playing Music

Episode 56: The Student Music Festival (1)

People were still captivated by ABLEZ.
It was as if they were receiving all the fame they had missed out on at once, basking in overwhelming love and attention.
From advertisements to variety shows, they dominated everything. Wherever there was a crowd, their melodies filled the air.

And with that, interest in Jung Seojoon only grew.

– Murmurs.
Even today, the front gate of the Baekjung Studio was bustling.
Under the tall, sturdy wall, groups of female students in various school uniforms gathered, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jung Seojoon.

Most of them had come to see Baekjung in person, a lighthearted visit that turned into an extended stay.
The reason?
The sound of the piano flowing from inside the house held them captive.

[Da-dan- da-da-da- dan-]

 “Ah, it’s so beautiful…”
“I need to go to my academy…”
“Just one more piece before I leave…”

The girls leaned against the wall, closing their eyes. They were fully immersed in the music.
Though they usually listened to pop songs, classical music felt neither unfamiliar nor awkward to them now.
Instead, it carried an inexplicable sense of poignancy.

[Da-dan! Da-da-]

Just as the piano melody reached its climax, the firmly shut iron gate swung open with a loud clang.

The startled girls quickly stepped back from the wall, their eyes snapping to the gate.
Could it be? Was Baekjung coming out?
Their gazes were full of anticipation.

But instead of flowing long hair, what emerged from the gate was a clean-shaven head atop a massive, muscular figure covered in tattoos.

“Eek!”
The girls screamed and scrambled backward, some falling onto their backsides in fear.

“Goodness,”
Ma Ducheol grinned widely at the sight of the terrified girls.

“I’m not going to eat you!”

With a hearty laugh, he set down a large box he was carrying, the metallic clang of its contents ringing out as it hit the ground.

“Seojoon… no, our Baekjung said you might need this.”

He began pulling folded chairs out of the box as he spoke.
The chairs were clean and elegant, appearing brand new and unused.

“Try to head home early, all of you~”

After stacking the chairs neatly in one spot, Ma Ducheol returned inside, passing through the iron gate.

As he climbed the short stone steps, he saw Jung Seojoon through the wide-open window.
Seojoon sat at the piano, his fingers flying over the keys, his head swaying gently to the rhythm.

Though he appeared serene, a closer look revealed otherwise.
His eyes, fixed on the sheet music, were cold and calculating, as if analyzing a difficult problem.

“Man…”
Ma Ducheol clicked his tongue and scratched his head.

How many days had it been now?
Seojoon barely ate or slept.
If it were up to him, he’d shut the piano lid and drag him away.

This behavior wasn’t unfamiliar to Ma Ducheol.
Baek Jinsung used to throw himself obsessively into something when troubled or overwhelmed.
Back then, it was usually sports or physical activity. Now, it had shifted to music.

“He used to play the piano too… was it after Junsoo’s father passed away?”
He thought for a moment.

“Uncle.”

Ma Ducheol was pulled from his thoughts by Choo Minji’s voice.

“Huh?”
He turned to see Minji doing yoga on a bench.

She shielded herself from the sun with a visor and wore a light pink yoga outfit.
Seeing this, Ma Ducheol clicked his tongue and furrowed his brows.

“Are you a sea slug or something?”

“Ugh, if you don’t understand fashion, don’t comment on it.”

With an air of superiority, Minji shifted her pose.
As her short torso wobbled, Ma Ducheol couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.

“Anyway, is it okay to just leave Seojoon like that? He hasn’t been to school in days.”

“True.”

“He must be really upset about the orchestra being disbanded.”

“Seems so.”

Ma Ducheol looked back at Seojoon with a calm expression.
It was just a school club being disbanded.
In the past, such a thing wouldn’t have fazed him.
But now, it clearly did.

What was music to him?

“Is there still a crowd outside?”

“Yeah, with school letting out, it’s packed.”

“What about the chairs? Did you tell them Seojoon wanted them out there?”

“Yep. But does it really need to be made such a big deal? It’s kind of lame.”

“Those little things add up to become stories of kindness.”

Minji returned to a proper position and lay flat on the mat.

“Ugh… Uncle.”

“What?”

“Try persuading Seojoon. You really should strike while the iron’s hot, you know? Even if he takes just half the offers coming his way, he’d be a star in no time.”

“Who knows.”

Ma Ducheol sat on the bench and replied nonchalantly.

“If Seojoon doesn’t want to, he doesn’t want to.”

“Ugh… Honestly, you’re completely whipped by him, aren’t you?”

“Think so?”

Ma Ducheol smiled as he scratched the scar on the back of his head.

“Not whipped. I just respect… I mean, like him.”

“Ugh…”
Minji scrunched up her face in disgust.

“Even Seojoon wouldn’t tolerate this.”

“Seojoon likes me too.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Minji rolled side to side on the mat before suddenly clapping her hands as if she remembered something.

“Oh, by the way, Uncle, JS Art contacted us again yesterday. They’re begging for a meeting.”

“Persistent bastards.”

Ma Ducheol clicked his tongue as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket.
He fumbled for a lighter with both hands.

“Just give them my number.”

“Huh? You told me to handle them myself, though.”

“It’s fine now.”

When Ma Ducheol couldn’t find his lighter, Minji finally spoke up.

“Uncle, didn’t you throw all your lighters away yesterday because you said you were quitting smoking?”

“Ah… right.”

Ma Ducheol frowned as he stared at the cigarette pack.
After a moment of hesitation, he shoved it back into his pocket.

Minji, who had been watching him, tilted her visor up and stared at him with half-lidded, hungover eyes.

“Got something on your mind these days?”
“What? No, just getting old.”
“Is it a woman?”
“Hey, cut it out. Don’t get cheeky, you little brat.”

The stiffness in Ma Ducheol’s expression softened again.
“By the way, how much did you drink last night for the smell to still linger?”
“Uh… I don’t really remember…”

At that moment—
[Bang—]

A loud sound echoed from inside the house as the piano keys were struck forcefully.
With that, Jung Seojoon’s performance came to an abrupt halt.
It was sudden, as if he had reached a decision after long deliberation.

****

Professor Han Gwangsook’s office was always immaculate.
A perfectionist who dyed her hair an ash gray to hide the increasing strands of white, her surroundings were as well-kept as herself.

“That’s hardly a difficult request. Of course, I’ll do it.”

With her confident reply, my biggest worry was resolved.
Now, it was time to tackle the next problem.

“Thank you, Professor.”
“No need for thanks. This year’s student music festival is going to be talked about for a long time.”
“I hope so.”

Smiling slightly, I took a sip of the coffee she had placed on the table.
Its rich aroma filled my senses.

As expected, Professor Han’s coffee was exceptional.
Sometimes, it made me want to visit her more for the coffee than the lessons.

“This is excellent coffee.”
“Isn’t it? I got it as a gift. You’re surprisingly into coffee for someone so young.”
“It’s the coffee shared with you that’s special, Professor.”
“My, my.”

Professor Han chuckled heartily.

“By the way, I’ve reviewed all of this.”
I pulled out a stack of sheet music from my bag and placed it on the table.

It was the collection of scores she had recommended and lent to me recently.
The stack was sizable, and it took a few trips to empty my bag.

“You’ve already gone through all this?”
“Yes, I didn’t have much else to do.”

“Wow…”

She widened her eyes in amazement, nodding as she processed this.
“With you, it’s not just about practicing but memorizing too, isn’t it? At this rate, you’ll have every piano piece in existence memorized.”

Knowing she was joking, I simply smiled without replying.

The conversation then shifted to lighter topics, mostly about music.
Each time I spoke with her, I felt my gaps in musical knowledge being filled bit by bit.

“By the way, according to Teacher Kim, that boy Eom Deokgu seems to have quite the talent.”
“Really?”
“He mentioned liking the teacher I introduced to him.”
“Not sure. I haven’t seen him lately.”

Since the orchestra was disbanded, our paths hadn’t crossed.
We were in different grades and on different floors.
As a special student, I left school after morning classes, so there was no chance to meet during lunch either.

Of course, if I wanted to meet him, I could, but there was no need to go out of my way.

“Considering he once assaulted a teacher, both Teacher Kim and I were worried, but it seems he’s behaving himself.”

– Knock, knock.

A knock on the door interrupted us, followed by a young woman’s voice, reminding Professor Han about her upcoming meeting.

“I’ll take my leave now.”
“Let me give you a ride. It’s raining outside.”
“No, thank you.”
“Oh, is that manager friend of yours waiting outside?”
“No, it’s not that.”

I glanced out the window.
Thick raindrops clung to the glass, streaking downward like long lines.

It reminded me of that day—the last day of Baek Jinsung.

Shaa—

“I don’t ride in cars on rainy days.”

****

 “As the day and night become equal, marking the beginning of autumn, sporadic showers are expected across the country…”

“Great timing with the announcement.”

Inside the car, filled with the sound of rain, Prosecutor Eom Jichun clicked his tongue as he fiddled with the radio.
The channel automatically switched, and ABLEZ song started playing.

[You can’t handle me—]

“I’m going to memorize this song at this rate…”

He turned off the radio, plunging the car into silence.
Soon, the vehicle came to a stop at a red light, and Eom Jichun turned to glance at the back seat.

“Am I your chauffeur now?”

There sat Eom Deokgu, staring blankly out the window.
The streetlights’ reflections on the raindrops cast distorted shadows across his face.

“…….”

“What’s your problem with me? I give you money, feed you, shelter you, and what else…”

Eom Jichun trailed off, frustrated.
The light turned green, and he shifted his attention back to the road.

“By the way, I know you’ve been secretly taking lessons lately. If you’re going to do that, why cause all that trouble abroad? If you hated Korea so much, you could have done better over there.”

He took a drag from the e-cigarette in his hand, filling the car with vapor.

“Hah… If you just kept your mouth shut, your life would be smooth sailing. I pave the way for you—rails, asphalt, everything—and you insist on turning yourself into a wreck. Look at your brother. He’s doing great on his own.”

Eom Deokgu let out a bitter laugh at the endless nagging.
“Brother left because he couldn’t stand you.”

“Shut up if you’re going to spout nonsense.”

“And don’t get the wrong idea. Do you really think Mom and I went abroad because we liked it?”

“Then why? What other reason was there for living overseas? If you’re going to say it was for singing, just save it. You got kicked out because of your mess—”

“To stay alive.”

“…What?”

“To avoid dying.”

“Are you serious?”

“Don’t you ever think about the past, Dad?”

“…….”

Eom Jichun had long been notorious as a prosecutor who cracked down on gangsters.
He dismantled numerous organizations, sparing no one in his pursuit of justice.
His family, in turn, became a target.

“So, what’s your point? Whatever happened back then doesn’t matter as long as we’re living well now.”

His tone was dismissive, eager to brush aside the uncomfortable topic.

“Dad,”
Eom Deokgu finally turned away from the window, meeting his father’s gaze through the rearview mirror.
“Do you know someone named Baek Jinsung?”

“Wh-what did you say?”

Startled, Eom Jichun swerved the car to the side of the road.

“How—how do you know that name!”

His voice rose in panic, echoing in the confined space, much like the blaring horn of the car behind them.

Eom Deokgu, however, remained unfazed.
“So, you do know him.”

For Eom Deokgu, the memory of that name was unforgettable.
The intersection near his elementary school…

After school, the piano academy he had been attending.
The two men in black waiting for him on the stairs.
The cigarette-stained van.
The abandoned factory teeming with more men in black.
The memory of being tied by cable ties at his wrists and ankles, trembling in fear, remained vivid.

For a moment, he had been left alone.
Then, a man appeared.

He, too, was dressed in black.
In a matter of moments, he subdued over twenty men.
Like a hero from an animated film.

The memory of what that man said to the others echoed in Eom Deokgu’s mind:
“…You don’t mess with family.”

Eom Deokgu ended his long recollection with those words.

Eom Jichun nodded grimly at the past his son had shared for the first time.
“It was him… So why bring this up only now…?”

“That man told me to run far away.”

“…….”

“He said neither you nor those thugs would stop, so it would be better if I escaped. He told me to make sure we never crossed paths again.”

“Hah… You should have told me right then. Did you and your mom really trust me so little?”

“I told Mom.”

“…….”

Eom Jichun suddenly recalled it all—the day his wife took Eom Deokgu and fled abroad as if running away.

“…You did the right thing.”

There wasn’t much else he could say.

“But, you know, if you had discussed it with me back then, it wouldn’t have come to this.”

“Discuss it? Do you know how much Mom and I—”

Before Eom Deokgu could finish, Eom Jichun’s phone rang.
He checked the caller ID, frowned, and motioned for his son to stay quiet.

“Let’s finish this later. This is an important call.”

The moment Eom Jichun answered the call, Eom Deokgu opened the backseat door.

Shaa—

The cold rain and wind rushed into the car.
Without hesitation, Eom Deokgu stepped out into the dark, wet world.

“Hey! Eom Deokgu!”

*****

How far had he walked?
Soaked to the bone, he wandered aimlessly.

Where should I go?
What should I do now?

As these thoughts swirled in his mind, a faint sound reached his ears.

[Da-dan–]

A piano.
Somewhere amidst the rain, he could hear a piano playing.

“Where is that…?”

Drawn like a moth to a flame, Eom Deokgu began walking toward the sound.

He arrived at a quiet alley in front of a large house.
Its walls were tall, and the gate was massive and sturdy.

In front of the wall were several folding chairs, all abandoned to the rain.
He sat on one of them.

Shaa—

The sound of the rain didn’t interrupt the music.
The calm, lyrical piano notes complemented the rainfall rather than being drowned out by it.

Each raindrop seemed to carry a note, and as the water soaked his body, it felt as though the music was soothing him.

“Whoever’s playing is damn good…”

[Da-dan- da-da- da-]

He recognized the piece.
It was one of the lullabies his mother used to hum when he was young and scared at night.

From Schumann’s Kinderszenen…

He couldn’t remember the title.

“Hah…”

With a deep sigh, he leaned back against the wall.
Letting the rain drench him, he closed his eyes.

The familiar piano melody brought back memories of his childhood and the hardships of his time abroad.

For him, life had been equally difficult in Korea and overseas.
Whether it was being targeted by gangsters or being looked down on by towering foreigners, it didn’t make much difference.

The racism he faced was worse than he had expected.
He had even learned to fight just to survive.

“Life’s a damn mess…”

The piano music was endlessly comforting.
It struck a chord with his emotions, as if the music itself was consoling him.

“…Hah.”

That was when a voice startled him from right in front of him.

“Is this guy crying?”

Eom Deokgu jumped up in surprise.
“Wh-what the hell?!”

Before him stood two men with black umbrellas—Ma Ducheol and Baek Junsoo.

Ma Ducheol smirked and pointed at Eom Deokgu.
“Junsoo, are we filming a movie in front of the house today?”

“Strange… I don’t recall getting the memo…”
Baek Junsoo bit his lip, struggling to hold back laughter.

“Who… who the hell are you two?”
Eom Deokgu wiped his wet face with his hand, shouting.

“Who else? I live here.”
Ma Ducheol brushed past him.

He held up a card key to the imposing gate, which opened smoothly, defying its solid appearance.

“And I’m the landlord.”
Baek Junsoo shrugged, gesturing to a small sign beside the gate.

“And here.”

[BAEK & JUNG Studio.]

“Baek… Jung?”

Finally noticing the sign, Eom Deokgu’s jaw dropped.

“Wait, Jung Seojoon? So the one playing the piano is Jung Seojoon?”

“Yep.”
Baek Junsoo nodded before stepping inside the gate.

After taking a few steps, he turned back to the still-stunned Eom Deokgu.
“Aren’t you coming in? Didn’t you come to see Seojoon?”

“…Why would I do that?”

“Suit yourself. Just make sure to close the gate on your way out.”

“…….”

The piano notes grew louder beyond the open gate, revealing glimpses of the house.

A beautifully landscaped yard.
Workout equipment scattered about.

Ma Ducheol and Baek Junsoo strolled through it.

By the open window, Choo Minji waved cheerfully at them.

And beyond her—
Jung Seojoon sat at a grand piano, his fingers gliding over the keys.

In that instant, the name of the piano piece that had eluded him surfaced in Eom Deokgu’s mind.

Schumann’s Kinderszenen No. 1:
“Of Foreign Lands and People.”