God of Piano

It was three days. It took just three days for Rowoon to regain his senses and show a performance that was better than at the audition, no, compared to that time.

Only after he was prepared to hear Chopin’s voice, Rowoon turned on the Walkman and pressed the record button. He made up his mind, erased the sound of other students playing through the soundproof wall of the practice room from his world, and then played. sang

[ Chopin’s Ballade No.2 in F major, Op. You played 38. ]

and,

[He performed a performance that brought out his skills to the limit! ]

[ The playing score is 70 points. ]

[The ‘Personal Tutoring’ function is unlocked! ]

[I have a question about the composer, Frederic Chopin. ]

[Ask a question? ]

That heart earned a fair price.

“… Chopin.”

Rowoon hesitated for a moment. What should I say? What would be the first words to address his idol, his god?

The worry didn’t last long. Rowoon decided. To his god, he prayed the most worthy prayer.

“Can we stop pretending to be strong?”

[This is what I feel… ]

Rowoon hurriedly pulled out his earphones before Chopin could say anything.

I didn’t need an answer.

＜ Why are you still unknown? (2) ＞ end

＜ How to climb the stairs ＞

“Chopin. sorry. You seriously know that’s not the case, right?”

[ ·······. ]

“No, to be honest, you were too kind to me. It’s not that I haven’t tried, and I think I’m lacking a little while I’m trying, but every time I do that, the puppy died, the piano is pitiful, I just say things like that all the time.”

[ ·······. ]

“I said so, but I am really grateful. To pianists, you are king and god. The same goes for me.”

[You have a long tongue. ]

#

Chopin did not release his anger. Rowoon wasn’t surprised. He was well aware of his narrow-mindedness. It would be even more surprising if he didn’t care about it.

It was the same when I saw that he had cut himself off from the list who had taken care of him so much right away. Didn’t Chopin turn his back on Liszt because Liszt secretly slept with another woman in Chopin’s apartment?

‘······No. Is this not a normal list?’

I don’t know. If Chris were to take another girl from Rowoon’s room and do that, um… I’d feel a little, no, pretty bad. I don’t think I’ll be insulated though. anyway.

Rowoon gave up on venting Chopin’s anger. It didn’t seem like he was going to get angry just because he was trying to solve it, and it wasn’t like he was neglecting his correction notes just because he was angry. Rather, Chopin pointed out Rowoon’s trivial habits one by one, perhaps because he wanted to find a corner to criticize and curse at him. In his characteristic sarcastic voice,

[You know it’s a soft performance if you move your wrist well, right? ]

······With the same feeling.

Of course, a writer like Beethoven maintained the attitude of not having any expectations, but even so, if he really had no expectations from Rowoon, he would not have said such a thing. At least Rowoon thought and believed that way.

Well, and no matter what they thought, the things Rowoon had to do were the same. Rowoon took classes, took lessons, and practiced. There was still a little bit left before the announcement of the preliminary results of the LA Concours, and there was still a long way before the start of the finals, so it didn’t take much time to do all of these things simultaneously.

‘I have to receive more blessings.’

He managed to play a decent mazepa, but he hadn’t yet received Liszt’s blessing.

I thought it was worth it. The reason why he got the Mirage Rubato from Chopin was because he clearly understood Chopin that much, and in the case of Bach, as the ‘eye of music’ itself is about musical intuition, Rowoon’s musical sense accumulated over the past life was his. I wondered if it worked as one of the conditions for receiving a blessing.

But Liszt was a pianist known for his virtuoso and virtuoso performances, and his blessing must have been related to transcendental virtuosity.

And when it comes to playing with his hands, Rowoon was relatively lacking compared to other parts. It might have been natural in a way that it wasn’t easy to receive the blessings of the list.

‘It might be okay if I play the performance log a little more often, but…’

But Beethoven left this advice.

[Stop thinking about stealing and learn. This day robbery bastard. ]

The elements included in the performance log, such as the length of fingers, length of arms, height of waist, weight of keyboard, and timbre of piano, can never match Rowoon’s actual conditions.

As such, if you try to apply the player’s senses to Rowoon’s body as they are while replaying the performance log over and over again, the senses will inevitably be twisted in a direction that does not fit with Rowoon.

‘Learn how to fish rather than fish.’

Don’t rely too much on your performance journal. In the end, it would be right that the subject of the performance should be Rowoon himself, not Walkman.

Rather, it would be more productive to receive more blessings and share the musicians’ skills themselves. There are limits to imitating performances. Unlike Heather, there was a reason why he didn’t put himself in his playing.

How can he be included in a performance that only tries to follow what they show, without any intention of expressing himself?

So Rowoon worked more diligently in all classes. I tried to engrave all the words the professor left in my head, and I did my best to develop his skills and abilities apart from Walkman.

And there was someone who liked Rowoon in many ways, and that was Han Jeong-woo.

“What are you wearing?”

“······Ah, it’s just a habit I have to correct when I play.”

“You work hard.”

Jungwoo glanced at Rowoon’s notebook and nodded. He was a younger brother who I liked because I could see his hard work. Rowoon looked at Jungwoo and asked.

“brother. Do you have any know-how about playing virtuoso? I heard that your specialty is that one.”

In many ways, Jungwoo was already a celebrity within the California Institute of Music. Rowoon, wondering why, couldn’t help but nod his head when he heard the names of the contests that Jungwoo had conquered as a child. As far as his youth career was concerned, Jungwoo’s award history was such that even Heather couldn’t dare compare it.

Jungwoo replied with a strange expression.

“Virtuoso? Liszt or Rachmaninov or something like that?”

“yes. I am always criticized for my hand movements.”

“…well, it’s kind of hard to put into words.”

“Ah, I guess so…”

“If I see your performance in person, I’ll get a sense of it. When can I see you?”

“Um, good. When do you have time?”

“Wait a minute, the time today is…”

Jungwoo stopped talking and was silent. And he asked as if he had just remembered.

“Have you ever heard of our club? They say ‘Siren’.”

“Oh, isn’t that where the YouTube channel runs?”

“huh. Well, we do street performances, we have concerts among ourselves, and there are many things we do.”

Upon hearing that, Rowoon’s expression was a little strange. It was a club where there was nothing strange about Jungwoo, but it was a bit unexpected. That’s what it will be…

‘Did you say you have stage fright?’

Rowoon had never heard Jungwoo play. All of his performance videos that were posted on the Internet had been deleted for some reason, and he seldom played in front of people, and he did not want to use the practice room well.

But it was a little difficult to ask about him. Whether he knew what Rowoon was thinking or not, Jungwoo quietly continued.

“I want to show you. Would you like to take a tour of our club?”

“I like it.”

There was no reason or excuse to refuse. And it was true that he also needed Jungwoo’s advice.

Rowoon followed Jungwoo to the clubhouse. Suffice it to say that it was in poor condition, but it was actually a large auditorium and was only available at certain times. Due to the nature of the small campus, it was said that they would allow a post office to be used only after 10 years since the club was established. Even so, just being able to use this large auditorium frequently made it clear that Siren farted quite a bit.

“Uh, what is it? Jungwoo are you here? Who is next to you?”

“This is a new friend. Call me Rowoon.”

“Roun? korean?”

“uh. Say hello.”

“Ah, nice to meet you. This is Irami. Violin major.”

“Ah yes. It’s Rowoon. beneficial.”

Rowoon grabbed Rami’s outstretched hand with a slightly shy expression. Short bobbed hair, moderately tanned skin, a white T-shirt with the Gucci logo printed on it, a green checked skirt, and even high heels. She was a woman with a splendid impression in many ways.

‘pretty.’

To the extent that I admired it so much for a moment.

“So how are you today? Did you come to enlist?”

“No, not the mouth. I looked around a bit… and got some advice from Jungwoo hyung. I came for that.”

“Huh, did Han Jung-woo give you advice? Pretending to be a senior Because I didn’t even go through the first semester properly.”

“······Well, you might not be qualified to give advice. He plays pretty well.”

Jungwoo said that and glanced at Rowoon. Apart from his self-esteem, he wasn’t used to being praised openly like this, so Rowoon kept avoiding his gaze with an awkward expression. Irami looked at Rowoon with a strange expression.

“Hmm… I don’t know about other instruments, but I praise the piano side sparingly. Are you really okay?”

“Why did I have to bring you here?”

“That too.”

“So, prepare for the shoot. Are you done?”

“Well, it seems to have gone well, but… Accompanist yet.”

“Who was the accompanist?”

“Eric.”

“Ugh.”

At those words, Jungwoo frowned. Rami giggled and looked at Jungwoo.

“Do you still hate him?”