Brilliant talent crashes onto the stage.
Making it impossible to draw the curtain and promising no conclusion.
A performance filled with contempt and disdain.
As the keys follow the score, new emotions arise.
Even in this moment,
All I have beside me are broken pieces.
Lee Jae-yi’s eyes peer through the camera towards the audience.
Countless souls stare blankly at him.
Yet, not a single person he desires appears.
Even his mother, who avoids him,
And his father, who treats him like an unwanted presence in his new family,
In the end, no one has come to this place.
What meaning does this world hold, swaying only with shards of a broken pot?
A sense of loss and the anger filling that loss press down on the keys.
La Campanella.
That piece, deemed difficult to play in both the past and present,
Is recreated at the fingertips of a genius nurtured by disdain.
An obvious truth, even to the musically uninitiated.
Hydream can never defeat Lee Jae-yi.
How could a mere school club band possibly win against that?
A preview? Isn’t that just high school level?
‘It’s simply incomparable.’
Edward Park couldn’t peel his gaze away from Kim Donghu, or rather, Lee Jae-yi.
‘Master.’
That realm is for masters.
An ideal that those who seek perfection strive for.
That is talent tinged with arrogance.
A dictatorship rising over others’ ridicule and trampling.
Some may spend their entire lives unable to glimpse even a shadow.
Every time Lee Jae-yi’s keys resonate, the story twists.
Could you still shout for an encore for Hydream after seeing that?
Do you really think that’s possible?
Lee Jae-yi asks Lee Minha.
Is it right to offer a forced opportunity claiming to show the beauty of the bottom?
Flap.
The script held by Lee Minha crinkles.
It’s a story written over days and nights.
It must succeed this time too,
He firmly believed that with this, it would definitely succeed.
An underdog’s rebellion that defeats a genius.
A story that must win and effort that ultimately overcomes talent.
But.
‘How arrogant have I been?’
Now, he realizes how absurd that notion is.
A genius that doesn’t put in effort will ultimately be caught up by a diligent mediocre.
Then what about a diligent genius?
Can they defeat a genius who has lost their family, suffocated by deep loss, and only has the piano left?
In Lee Jae-yi’s gaze, there’s no light for bright hope.
That’s just trash not worth performing.
‘What on earth am I looking at?’
Lee Minha dumbly looks up at Lee Jae-yi.
Could that performance possibly lose?
Is it possible for one mere band encore to flip the situation upside down?
‘I can’t imagine it.’
The story he painstakingly conceived vanishes from his mind.
Thud.
The script he held drops to the floor, getting dirty.
Lee Jae-yi won’t lose.
There will be no encore for Haidream,
And inflexible judges won’t change their minds when they see Haidream.
As the performance rushed towards its end, Lee Minha’s head got more and more complicated.
For a good ending, it had to be Haidream winning.
I mean, the drama’s called “Haidream,” so it doesn’t make sense for Haidream to lose.
But…
‘Do they all really think that after seeing that?’
Lee Minha’s gaze swept over to Lee Jae-yi, scanning the filming set.
There were dazed and shocked faces all around.
Someone looked so creeped out, they were clutching themselves tightly.
Even the camera director’s focus drifted away from the lens.
When you let your guard down for just a second, you find yourself wanting to look at the real Lee Jae-yi beyond the lens.
The indiscriminate onslaught of talent’s violence screams for a reality check, trampling on the existing story.
‘…!’
At the climax of the performance.
In that moment, Lee Minha felt as if she locked eyes with Lee Jae-yi.
You are the one I made.
Does it really make sense for the ever-perfect me to lose?
Tell the inferiors.
Declare your loss right away.
The intricately woven performance tightened its grip around Lee Minha’s neck like a noose.
A powerful presence asserting that it cannot accept such a conclusion.
In the face of that pressure, Lee Minha unknowingly bowed her head.
And in that instant, she realized.
‘I need to prepare.’
That a second story was necessary.
‘The story is going to change.’
Right now, she would stick to the original script,
She couldn’t change the promised flow, but
When Lee Jae-yi revealed himself to the world,
She was certain everything would twist.
+++++
“Do I really have to beat something like that?”
Jin Su-hyuk looked incredulously at Lee Jae-yi’s performance with a bemused smile.
High school-level skills winning over that? No matter how you slice it, that’s just absurd.
They could hold a concert right now, looks like they’re performing.
How on earth can we win beneath that?
‘The theme of Haidream is totally off.’
A story where the efforts of inferior kids finally shine.
A hopeful theme that says if you don’t give up and keep going, you can make it too.
It’s clear that’s being tainted by one person.
‘Kim Donghu.’
If he were just playing the piano, you might call it acting but not really.
But right now, Kim Donghu was playing while perfectly acting as ‘Lee Jae-yi’.
The boiling contempt was palpable.
You could feel the constant pressure to show reverence.
A distinct difference from the others.
Originally, a villain created to lose, designed for just five episodes, was writhing in agony.
No, even ‘writhing’ felt laughable.
How could he be writhing when he was thoroughly trampling everyone else?
Shudder shudder shudder.
A slight tremor in his hands.
Is it Song Cheolsu trembling, or is it Jin Su-hyuk who’s supposed to play that role?
Is it Soo-hyuk?
My mind was already too dizzy for that distinction.
I need to practice for the encore performance scene coming up shortly after that performance.
My hands won’t move.
Anyway, it won’t matter how much you guys struggle.
In front of Lee Jae-yi’s performance, sending out a serious warning made it clear that struggling was meaningless,
and my body recognized it first.
+++++
The performance is racing toward its end.
The time granted to ‘me’ is slowly running out.
More, more, more.
I wanted to trample those worthless beings.
How high and unapproachable the wall of talent is,
I wanted to engrave how meaningless it is to try to break it into my bones.
“What a pity.”
Ten fingers touch the keys, signaling the end.
A clean and clear chime finally declares the end of the violent display of talent.
But everything hasn’t ended yet.
After the performance, I slowly scan my surroundings.
Judges filled with shock and people beyond the camera, mesmerized.
The face I long to see is nowhere to be found.
“…”
Without a word, I grab the microphone installed on the grand piano.
Originally, I should have been playing and singing,
but this is the result of changing it all to showcase the realm of talent.
To show brilliant genius.
“Thank you for listening.”
A calm bow directed at the judges and the stage.
Immediately afterward, I walk slowly toward the back of the stage, passing them by.
The camera follows, and I lift my empty face to the ceiling.
“In the end, no one came again today.”
The packed crowd means nothing.
If the person who should listen doesn’t hear, what’s the point of that performance?
A glance.
I throw my gaze toward the direction where the Hydream members might be.
“Those fools laughing without knowing anything.”
It was hollow.
My own existence, having to be alone after the performance, was damn disgusting.
The reality of feeling inferior to such beings,
envying those lowly things,
and being a pitiful me,
“…so foolish.”
It was terrifyingly shameful.
Behind the stage,
all I could do was bury my face in my knees and quietly cry.
“Uuuuuuuuuuh!!!”
As soon as Ji Jang-min, the director, signaled OK, I immediately lifted my head.
Lee Jae-yi completely disappeared from within me, leaving not even a fragment of emotion.
“Donghu! How did you! How did you come up with this idea?!”
The wildly excited Kim Youngmo, the PD, shouted as he approached,
“Actor Kim Donghu! Can we film this multiple times with this? Are you physically okay?!”
But there were even more excited people.
“Actor Kim Donghu! Can you tell us how you interpreted Lee Jae-yi to come up with this angle in the script?!”
“Can you tell me how you interpreted Lee Jae-yi for the script?!”
“Yeah, yeah?”
Ji Jang-min, the cameraman, and Lee Minha, the writer, were charging toward me like a couple of bulls.
+++++
After taking a break, there was talk of shooting from various angles again.
I took a deep breath and chewed on some fish cakes.
‘Not singing was my ad-lib, but looks like it worked.’
Nice, right?
As I sipped on the fish cake soup, suddenly—
“Kim Donghu, there you are!”
It was Kim Sujin’s mother, the once-popular actress, Kim Yu-ryun, who approached me.
“Yeah, they said to take a break, so I was resting.”
“Christmas is coming up soon; do you have any plans?”
“Um…”
Do I?
I glanced quickly at Seok-ho, and the sharp-eyed Seok-ho shook his head.
“Nothing special.”
“Oh, really? Then how about we grab a meal together?”
“That would be an honor.”
“Honor, schmonor, it’s just a meal.”
Kim Yu-ryun smiled brightly at my reply, clearly pleased.
“Oh, by the way, if you’re going to rest, wouldn’t it be better to do it in the classroom instead of here?”
“In the classroom?”
“Yeah, we turned on the heater just in case, so it’s nice and warm. We rested there earlier.”
“Really? Thanks for letting me know.”
“Just go to room 1, first-grade, first class.”
“Got it!”
Wait, there was a heated room?
Why didn’t anyone tell me?
‘Well, it’s fine as long as I know now.’
Since there’s nothing better than warmth in winter, I rushed straight to the first-grade, first class.
‘What’s with the darkness?’
A lounge should usually have the lights on, right?
As I thought that and turned on the light—
“Uh, huh?!”
“Whoa, it’s been a while, and your first words are ‘Uh, huh?!'”
“Kim Donghu, are you crazy?”
What’s so great?
Sujin was beaming brightly at me.
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