Of the five songs written for his solo album, four were completely finished but one was still on hold.
To be exact, it was still going through changes.
Tap, tap, tap.
The unfinished first track was being reshaped again under Hyunseung’s hands.
“Out to sea.”
Its first change was a title, and the song now compressed the long story of his former and present lives into just two minutes.
There was not a single lyric.
He did not want to write out his life tale in flowery detail.
Ah.
Besides the lack of lyrics, the real problem was that the most important session was still missing.
Tap, tap, tap.
He was only sketching with virtual instruments.
“Nothing beats a real performance.”
The melody still did not please him one hundred percent.
It did not have to be the homeless man who played violin in Paris.
There were plenty of violinists who could imitate something similar.
Even so, it was the first time he had wanted to become the accompanist and play together.
That performance had carried something beyond mere skill, and it pulled at him.
Knock, knock, knock.
Just then Manager Kim came to the studio.
“Still working?”
“Pretty much done now.”
Glancing at the screen, he asked cautiously,
“I see only four finished masters in the folder. What will you do about the last one?”
“It is not complete yet.”
“Really? We need that done to set a release date and prepare promotion.”
Hyunseung considered for a moment.
“There is no need to rush, is there?”
“That is true.”
“Then let us do this.”
He could not toss it out half-baked. The song held pieces of his life.
“Let us talk again in a week.”
Exactly one week. If no reply came by then, he would decide. That was his plan.
“Fine, take your time.”
Manager Kim pointed at the screen.
“In that case, may I hear that track?”
“No.”
“You never give me a straight yes.”
Smiling, Hyunseung hit the space bar and played the file he had been working on.
“So you tease me but still let me lis—”
Within three seconds Kim’s face twisted.
“What is this…”
The damp piano phrases carried a suffocating gloom.
They contained his past life, so a crawling discomfort was natural.
As the piece climbed toward its peak, a grin spread on Hyunseung’s lips.
One minute thirty seconds.
“All right.”
At his whisper, a violin suddenly poured out a mysterious line like an angel’s trumpet.
The track flipped from black to white, a dramatic modulation, almost a plot twist.
Yes, Kim’s expression looked as if he were watching a suspense film with a sudden twist.
After two minutes the music cut off with a tap.
“Wow, hey…”
He mouthed soundlessly at his dry lips—and he was not the only one speechless.
Wait.
While listening, scattered scenes rose over the melody like puzzle pieces. If he fit them into one picture, this could work quite well.
“Hmm…”
Perhaps he should involve himself more in the music video this time.
“Manager Kim.”
He shook off his thoughts for a second.
“Thank you for asking to hear it.”
“Why the sudden courtesy?”
“For that reason, could you leave me alone now?”
“You are so petty!”
All he could think about was lining up those pieces on a proposal.
After finishing the proposal, Hyunseung watched the email-sent notice pop up and smiled with satisfaction.
That should do, time to look forward to the result.
“Phew…”
Flexing his stiff fingers from the work, he let out a breath.
Thud, thud, thud!
Manager Kim banged wildly on the door as if the world were ending.
“Min Hyunseung! Hyunseung!”
“I hate seeing you twice a day…”
“This is no time for jokes.”
“Then what time is it?”
“First, take off those clothes.”
The sudden order left his face in shock.
“Do you know how startled I was when you said strip?”
“It is urgent, all right.”
“Still, I need the story before I undress.”
Now dressed in a suit, Hyunseung looked thoroughly uncomfortable.
“Stand still.”
Like a mother sending her son to his first interview, Kim fussed with his tie.
“A formal letter from the New York Philharmonic was shocking enough, and now they came in person. You think my head is calm?”
“What is so shocking?”
“Surely you know the New York Phil?”
“Of course. One of the world’s top three orchestras.”
“Exactly. They flew to Korea just to meet you, and you are not amazed?”
Scratching his chin, he asked, “Why are they here for me?”
“Beats me. They said they have something to discuss.”
Pulled along, he soon stood before the company’s reception room.
“Here we are.”
The room was used only for very special guests.
That showed how powerful the New York Philharmonic was.
“I really have no idea why they want me.”
“Neither do we, but you cannot keep them waiting. Go talk.”
Kim brushed his lapel.
“Your English seemed fine last time, so I did not call an interpreter.”
“It’s fine.”
“I would go in, but they asked to speak with you alone.”
“Stop worrying. I am not a child.”
He knocked boldly.
“This is composer HS. I’m coming in.”
He entered swiftly and greeted, “Nice to meet you. I am composer HS.”
The man facing him looked just past forty yet well maintained, slim and stylish enough to pass for mid-thirties.
Who was he, and why had he come?
“Long time no see.”
The unexpected words made Hyunseung tilt his head.
“I am Eden Smith, associate concertmaster of the New York Philharmonic.”
Handing a card, Eden went straight to the point before Hyunseung could ask.
“Without preamble, our music director Paul earnestly wishes to meet you.”
“The conductor of the famous New York Philharmonic wants to see a Korean composer…”
He paused.
“It sounds unbelievable.”
Unlike his past life, he was known mostly in Asia. It was hard to swallow a tea-time request from such a figure.
Yet Eden did not argue.
“All expenses will be covered, no matter the amount.”
He continued calmly.
“Would you come to New York with me?”
Hyunseung felt reluctant. Even with an official letter, he was busy preparing his album.
“I am in the middle of my album. It’s hard to leave now.”
“I did not know that. When will your preparation finish?”
“I cannot answer yet. The instrument for one track has not appeared.”
“For the session, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“What if I play it?”
For the first time he was intrigued.
Waiting for a violinist, and here was the New York Phil’s associate concertmaster offering.
Still, he craved the raw power of the homeless man in Paris.
A polished hall performance was not enough; he wanted that roar.
“I am indeed seeking a violin session, but I already sent a request to someone.”
“To someone more famous than me?”
“No, just a homeless man I met in Paris.”
“Was he by chance playing Paganini’s 24 Caprices?”
At that Hyunseung snapped his head up and locked eyes with him. Too surprised to ask how he knew—
“I was that homeless man. I played the piece in Paris and you gave me your card.”
Eden smiled as if reading his thoughts.
“How about settling the fee you tried to pay me then by coming to New York with me now?”
A hollow laugh escaped him.
He felt a bit foolish.
I was tricked…
Had that been in the letter, he would not have waited so long.
Still, if the rolling stone was the New York Philharmonic, the wait was worthwhile.
His mind flooded with ideas again. His brain worked well today.
“All right, I will go. On one condition.”
“I said I would record the session.”
“No. Your session, of course, and…” he added after a beat, eyes gleaming,
“…the entire New York Philharmonic.”
Clang.
Eden dropped the teacup he had been about to sip.
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