T/N: I apologize for the lack of updates for this one. I’ll try to pick up the pace while it’s summer break. Please see character list1 for clarity up to this point.
A new video was uploaded to Shin Yu-jeong’s YouTube channel.
The concept looked similar, yet from the very start something felt different in the staging.
Because it featured pianist Shin Yu-jeong, even the big names of the classical world began to react.
“Dean Lee, did you see it?”
“Yu-jeong’s?”
“Yeah. They say it was improvised…”
Professor Lee Seong-cheol, dean of the National Conservatory, scratched his head.
“Well… I know Yu-jeong is not the sort to lie, but still… goodness.”
An étude completely unlike the original.
If the original felt like a gentle honor-student, the piece they had just heard was an étude of a rebellious troublemaker.
The arrangement was impressive, yet the performance itself was unbelievably perfect.
“That étude was obviously arranged with painstaking care. Those feelings cannot just appear. That much is certain.”
When the colleague nodded, Lee Seong-cheol took off the glasses that kept slipping down.
“The problem is what comes after.”
“Exactly.”
The étude alone showed stunning skill, but the performance that followed left them speechless.
A rough, unpolished riff laid bare the performer’s emotions.
They had not been on site, yet the resonance came through even on video.
Notes piled on, growing bigger and bigger.
It was not a finished work meticulously planned from start to finish, it felt like emotion poured out at will.
Yu-jeong entered the performance, and with a hesitant touch began a faint duet.
From that moment, the piece started to transform.
The man’s emotion gradually yielded to Yu-jeong and an astounding piece took shape.
“It was intentional.”
“That is incredible in its own right though.”
Emotion contained in music… When it is too raw, you can tell at once if it is forced.
If they had known how the piece would change, no such fierce feeling would have appeared at the start.
The first riff was an endless rage with a firm will to never erase that feeling.
For a performer to voice such anger, he too must not have known it would subside.
That is what makes it more astonishing.
“You say the piece was set in advance, yet they can play like that in the opening? That makes even less sense.”
“Hmm. The spot where Yu-jeong enters isn’t smooth. Was that also intended?”
“Maybe she missed on purpose, to look improvised.”
“Can you name a performer who can calculate this much and still express feeling like that?”
The colleague laughed helplessly.
They doubted, then defended; the flow of the talk jumped all over the place.
Professor Lee noticed and scratched his head. He had insisted it could not be improvised, yet now he was admitting it had to be improvised to work.
There was no conclusion.
Only asking the performer directly could answer it.
“First, let’s summon Yu-jeong and meet her.”
“Well, her phone is off.”
Probably many people were as curious as they were, so it was understandable her phone was powered down.
“I left a message on chat. No idea what place in line we are…”
Professor Lee nodded, disappointed.
They needed to see her quickly and clear this up.
Once the colleague left, he too would send a message.
She had shaken the performance world each time, but this time was bigger.
Rock played with only a piano.
The two professors, representatives of Korea’s conservatory world, stared at the back of the figure on screen.
“Wow, Sun-ha noona, still pretty as ever.”
“And you are still huge.”
Hong Sun-ha looked up at Yoo Jang-ha and smiled.
“What’s that on your face, looks rough.”
“Badge of honor, maybe?”
When Jang-ha brushed it off, Sun-ha chuckled.
They were together again. Stories could come later; just three of them meeting made their hearts race.
“Dear, do I fry these first?”
Sang-jeong, who had run to the kitchen the moment he arrived, called out.
“Yeah, the three on that order slip.”
“Roger!”
His head disappeared inside.
“Sister-in-law, where’s your son?”
“Seo-jun? He kept saying he’d help then made trouble, so I sent him to my mom.”
“How diligent.”
“He’s a walking accident.”
Jang-ha turned, looking around the chicken shop.
“Will you manage?”
Sun-ha grinned.
“I’ll hire a part-timer. What about you? Did you decide?”
“Uh…”
Forty-three.
It’s an age when you must weigh many things before deciding, awkward for starting something new or laying down what you have.
He might have conviction, but conviction alone is not enough at this age.
Recalling last night’s talk with Sang-jeong, Sun-ha did not press further and simply nodded.
“Sister-in-law, beer.”
Jin-hyeok, who had dashed to the restroom first, came to the table.
“Sure, got it.”
His shoulders, once hunched, now spread wide; he even looked taller.
His step and expression had changed, and his tone sounded exactly like the nineteen-year-old he once was.
Unconsciously, Sun-ha gripped the bottle opener harder.
It would not be easy, but she wished that genius would be back on stage soon.
“Today, the Miracle of Yeongdeungpo.”
A video went up on Father Kang Yosep’s YouTube channel.
The parish channel existed only as a record, not to gain subscribers.
Most clips were raw, unedited; this one too was just phone footage with a single caption quickly added.
Subscribers numbered only fifty, far below the number of parishioners.
Because nearly all clips were homilies during mass, the new upload was something different.
“Hey, what do you think?”
“Hmm. Can I be totally honest?”
Min-hui, who had handled the sound and thus watched the performance up close, looked at her boyfriend Su-chan, keyboardist for the famous Im Do-yu Band.
“Why?”
Because it felt like asking, ‘How’s my hair today’, her brow twitched.
“If I answer wrong, tonight may sour… and since it’s about music, I don’t want to give a half-baked reply.”
Su-chan smiled, making her frown deepen.
“Sour by how much?”
“Well… it wasn’t big enough for you to squeal over the phone before meeting.”
Although not now, Min-hui had once played in a band. That was how they met.
The Yeongdeungpo performance had given her goose bumps.
“Right then, the arrangement is convincing enough. I’ll overlook the parts that are too emotional. Problem is the playing. Everyone does as they please. The guitar rides his own high, the keyboard’s a mistouch party, the bass that should support is dragged by the guitar then later runs wild alone. Drums—well, since it’s Father, even hitting like that is impressive…”
Seeing her frozen face, Su-chan trailed off.
“See? You already decided and then asked.”
“It’s that messy?”
In truth, Min-hui herself felt confused.
At the time it seemed amazing, but through a phone speaker the feeling changed.
So she asked his opinion.
“Did these people even rehearse? The arrangement is great, yet only the singing guitarist holds it together. The vocalist’s level is top-class.”
Reluctantly she nodded. Upon rewatching, she felt the same.
But one point had to be corrected.
Grumbling, she spoke.
“The arrangement was improvised, Father said he hadn’t held sticks in ten years, and the rest met again after fifteen years. Considering that, didn’t they do well?”
The cup in Su-chan’s hand froze.
She looked at him, puzzled.
“What?”
“Is that true?”
“What is?”
“That the arrangement was improvised. No, everything you just said.”
“Yes, it’s true.”
“Wait, fifteen years?”
He stared at his phone.
The performers wearing paper bags were paused.
If fifteen years ago, how old were they? And improvised arrangement?
He rewound to the start, focusing not to miss the lost sound masked by cheap audio.
“How old are they?”
“Over forty, I heard.”
He focused on the singer-guitarist’s tone. Even the first time, the frontman’s skill was outstanding, good enough to be a pro.
“Did the vocalist lead the arrangement?”
“Yeah. He glanced at the score, roughly told the members and started right away. They picked the piece on the spot.”
“Is that even possible?”
O Filii et Filiae.
He knew the hymn well, a Gregorian chant.
Extremely simple range, mainly vocal, repeating similar motifs, meant to resonate in a wooden church’s sacred atmosphere, far from pop music.
Yet they turned it so powerful. Not a Baroque-rock arrangement with orchestra, but with only the basic instruments.
Someone experienced might spend days adding rock color, but they say it was improvised.
His ears followed only the guitar and vocal. The other sessions likely just guessed the altered song, so they each played separately. If he were in that spot, he would not do better.
“Wow… maybe not a miracle, but…”
“Huh?”
“It is tremendous skill.”
She tilted her head, then narrowed her eyes.
“Too late now.”
“What?”
“You slammed it and now try to smooth over?”
“No, really…”
“I’ll let it go once.”
“I mean it, though.”
“Fine, mood’s back, stop. Let’s go drink.”
“Wait—”
For some reason Su-chan felt wronged.
“So, how was that comeback performance?”
Sun-ha asked with a face full of anticipation.
Jin-hyeok frowned, holding a drumstick.
“It was a total mess, right?”
Sang-jeong chugged beer, Jang-ha looked at the ceiling.
“But it was fun.”
Jin-hyeok grinned.
“So, what will you do?”
At his question Jang-ha sighed, scratching the scar beside his eye.
“I lived pretty rough.”
“You were rough before too.”
“There are people who hassle me.”
His face hardened.
“If I stay with you, you could get hurt.”
“So that’s why your face can’t be shown?”
“Yeah.”
“You stayed with Father quite a while?”
“That old man knows powerful folks and is tough himself, so not much worry…”
Jin-hyeok tapped his forehead.
“If we play in front of many people, is it really that dangerous?”
“They might reach not only me but you too.”
The serious talk froze Sun-ha and Sang-jeong.
“So we just fix that?”
“Huh?”
He pointed to the chicken paper bag.
“We can do it like today, right?”
“Uh…?”
“Come on, say it.”
He stood.
“Today was a mess but really fun.”
He punched two holes in a bag.
“It’ll be even more fun from now on.”
He held the bag out to Jang-ha.
“If the guy wearing bass next to me is someone else, can you just watch?”
Jang-ha’s eyes trembled. Slowly he took the bag and pulled it over his head.
“I can’t just watch.”
Jin-hyeok smiled.
“Better to cover our aging faces.”
Under the bag, the big shoulders shook, maybe laughing, maybe crying.
“You’re all a mess. Me too. Let’s go hard.”
He raised his glass.
Gangnam, city center.
Luxury hotel Lymir Suite.
A man, drunk, was rampaging.
“How long has he been like that?”
The woman watching the scene snapped. The man beside her bowed.
“About two days.”
“You should have called at once.”
“I’m sorry.”
She sighed softly.
“This is crazy.”
The man reeled then collapsed onto a table, panting, red eyes glaring at her.
“Oppa, get a grip, you’re not a kid.”
“Well, my smart little sister.”
“What’s the problem this time?”
He exhaled and drifted off.
“When he sobers up, call immediately.”
“Yes, Vice-President.”
“And…”
She looked at the cuts on his arms and legs, likely from broken bottles.
“When he’s fully asleep, treat those.”
“Yes, understood.”
She left; the man ordered and the staff began cleaning the suite.
“Damn it, what’s wrong with my song!”
The man suddenly screamed; startled employees looked over.
He was still lying, eyes closed. Confirming he hadn’t awoken, they resumed their tasks, clearly used to such scenes.
“So, what about Chung-gi?”
“Sigh… checking the internet is faster than our long story. You might not know because you cut ties with music, but he’s kind of famous.”
Jin-hyeok tilted his head.
“Search C2K. Focus on blogs rather than news.”
With a slightly dark face, Jang-ha looked at him.
Jin-hyeok pictured the most arrogant drummer ever, actually a bluffing third-generation chaebol with the softest heart.
While the two wore grim faces, a smile spread on Jin-hyeok’s lips.
To him Chung-gi was always the most entertaining friend.
- 조진혁 (Jin-hyeok) – Former guitar & vocal prodigy of Heart Breakers; lost music for 25 years, now suddenly “back” with teenage fire in a 43-year-old body.
안상정 (Sang-jeong) – Ex-keyboardist; owns the neighborhood chicken shop with wife Sun-ha, wrestling with rusty fingers and real-life bills.
홍선하 (Sun-ha) – Sang-jeong’s wife, ex-fan-club vice-president; practical but secretly thrilled to see the band revive.
유장하 (Jang-ha) – Huge, hot-tempered ex-bassist; on probation, ladling food for Father Kang’s soup kitchen, worries his shady past may endanger friends.
충기 (Chung-gi / “C2K”) – Missing Heart Breakers drummer; arrogant chaebol 3rd gen with fragile heart, now spiraling in alcohol-fueled self-destruction.
조은서 (Eun-seo) – Jin-hyeok’s 15-year-old daughter; secret bedroom songwriter/guitarist who hides music from her “tone-deaf” dad.
강 요셉 신부 (Father Kang Yosep) – Elderly foreign priest who runs “Happy Meal Truck”; judo-throwing, drum-playing ally who witnesses the “Miracle of Yeongdeungpo.”
임도유 (Im Do-yu) – 28-year veteran rocker, Billboard-charting; publicly hails Heart Breakers as legends.
황지선 (Hwang Ji-seon) – TV host & former dance-pop star; fascinated by HB comeback, half-skeptical half-hopeful.
신유정 (Shin Yu-jeong) – Classical “once-in-a-century” pianist; posts viral street-duet video with unknown guitarist (Jin-hyeok). ↩︎
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