Chapter 58
The filming period for “The Orphan Plays Music Too Well” was a whopping three weeks.
Three weeks was by no means a short time. By the time filming ended and I returned to Korea, November would be right around the corner.
My goal for this year had been to release a full-length album, but…
“I don’t know if it’ll be possible.”
In reality, it seemed virtually impossible. Ideally, I wanted to release the album in early December, but my break after Singerstar was getting longer than expected.
At least, in the midst of all that, we had already chosen all the songs Blooming would be singing in the future. I supposed that was a blessing in disguise.
It meant I could stop worrying about that and focus solely on my own album.
I opened my laptop on the train from Spain to Italy.
Unlike before, my laptop—which had recently been upgraded from an outdated model to the latest version—booted up quickly.
Considering that it had once taken nearly two minutes just to start, this was truly a tremendous improvement.
I glanced to the side. Despite the darkness outside the window, endless golden wheat fields stretched into the distance.
When I looked in the opposite direction, I saw the women fast asleep.
They must have been incredibly tired. Baek Yuyeon and every other female cast member had fallen asleep the moment they boarded the train, still wearing sleep masks.
I alone sat there nobly working on my laptop.
“Hmm.”
Naturally, simply opening a composition program didn’t make good inspiration appear in an instant.
I left the program running and looked around once more.
Then I noticed a book lying across Saki’s knees.
“The Stars…”
The novel she had fallen asleep reading was a French romance novel by Alphonse Daudet called The Stars.
It was famous in Korea because its content and themes were quite similar to those of the novel “The Shower,” but it was actually a romance novel famous throughout the world.
I had read it when I was younger—around my twenties in my previous life—so its story and setting came vividly to mind.
When I turned my head back toward the window, I saw the French wheat fields and the stars scattered across the night sky.
The night sky of southern Europe, washed clean of the Mediterranean’s humidity, was so clear it sent shivers down my spine.
The stars scattered across the night sky shone as if they might break through the train window and pour inside at any moment.
“…The stars.”
The novel’s final sentence automatically replayed in my mind.
‘The frailest and brightest star of all lost its way, came down, and fell asleep leaning against my shoulder….’
Miss Stéphanette, asleep on the shepherd’s shoulder.
The shepherd’s feelings were a pristine emotion, stripped of sexual desire and composed solely of awe and affection.
As if bewitched, I began filling in the empty measures of the composition program.
The introduction began with the sounds of an acoustic guitar and banjo, creating a pastoral yet thrilling atmosphere.
In the bridge, the mood reversed in an instant, and the notes trembled roughly, mirroring the girl’s heart as it wavered for a moment at the shepherd’s actions.
My fingers moved across the keyboard as if they were gliding over it.
The notes continued piling up in layer upon layer, and the more they did, the faster the music came together.
“Um… Siyeon. What are you doing?”
“…You’re already awake?”
“I slept for twelve hours.”
Thanks to that, I hadn’t slept at all, but the song was nearly finished, so perhaps I could call it even.
The moment I swallowed the red pill, drowsiness began rushing over me.
“Siyeon… We have to get off…”
“Ah.”
I was screwed.
* * *
Hanyul was a top-tier male vocalist in Korea.
He possessed a high range extending into the upper reaches of the third octave, along with a husky tone no one else could imitate.
He also composed and wrote the lyrics for his band’s songs himself, so people called him a genius.
For that very reason, Hanyul believed that geniuses did not exist in this world.
Because he himself was not a genius, but merely an ordinary person who worked tirelessly.
Even among the people around him, those called geniuses put in grueling effort to support their talent.
“You… made this on the train?”
“Yeees…”
That was why he found it utterly impossible to believe in the existence of this little kid, nestled in Saki’s arms and facing him with half-closed eyes.
Until now, Hanyul had secretly thought that the image of Seo Siyeon shown on Singerstar was fabricated.
Because it made no sense for a kid that cute to sing well, compose well, and write good lyrics, too.
If she had at least looked ordinary, he might have pretended to believe it, but he simply could not accept that someone pretty enough to put idols to shame also possessed talents like these.
That was why he hadn’t expected much from Seo Siyeon when she was cast on The Orphan Plays Music Too Well, either.
When he saw her handle the guitar perfectly, he had thought, ‘Oh? She can play a little.’
After watching a video of the performance she had put on on a rainy night, he had thought, ‘What is this kid, seriously?’
And when he saw the ballad arrangement of Viva la Vida she had brought in, he had wondered, ‘Could she really be the real deal?’
When she now produced an entire song in less than half a day, he simply gave up trying to think about it.
She was a creature that had no business existing in this world, at least according to common sense.
Still, that was that, and Hanyul tried to analyze the song as coolly as he could while listening to it.
However, perhaps because he hadn’t been in the habit of listening to modern songs lately—or perhaps because he had listened to nothing but hard rock nonstop—he couldn’t think of the right word to describe the song’s clearly familiar atmosphere.
“Is it country?”
Only after hearing Saki’s doubtful guess, while holding Seo Siyeon in her arms, could he recall what genre the song was based on.
“Ah! Right. It’s country, huh?”
“Hyung. You couldn’t tell the moment you heard it? You’re really washed up…”
“Shut up, you brat.”
Hanyul said it out of habit, then hurriedly covered his mouth in embarrassment.
“Hyung. In front of the kid…”
“S-sorry.”
“Yawn… I’m okay. More importantly, how’s the song?”
Everyone here had individually left a major mark on Korea’s music industry. As far as Siyeon was concerned, it was worth enduring her sleepiness to hear their evaluations.
“I like it. It has a modern country-pop feel.”
“It’s a soothing melody, and it’s easy to sing along to. I think it’s a good song.”
Next, it was Hanyul’s turn to speak. He couldn’t think of a suitable way to describe the song at all.
“Um… It’s a little wistful… and…”
“Hyung. Is it because you didn’t get enough education that you don’t know the words to describe it?”
“Shut up. A-anyway. It feels like the sensibility of a girl with unrequited love. I liked the melody—it had a strangely heart-aching quality.”
“Hmm… Thank you…”
I said that and promptly fell asleep right there.
“…She sleeps well.”
When I opened my eyes again, I was already lying on a bed in one of the accommodation’s rooms.
* * *
“Did you sleep well, Siyeon?”
“Yeees.”
My last memory ended with me in Saki’s arms, chatting with everyone about the song and something or other.
Apparently, I had fallen asleep in Saki’s arms.
“I’m sorry. I fell asleep there.”
“No. Hehe… I actually liked it.”
“…Then I’m glad.”
Apparently, I hadn’t slept for very long. Only three hours had passed since I’d fallen asleep.
When I opened the door and stepped outside…
“…Wow.”
The nighttime view of Italy filled my eyes all at once. I stared blankly at the sight.
It was a scene filled with a different kind of romance from the starry sky I had seen from the train earlier, and for a moment, I was left speechless.
“Florence’s nighttime view is romantic no matter when you see it.”
“This isn’t your first time here, is it, unnie?”
“Hmm? I come fairly often. Usually for work, though.”
Come to think of it, the person standing before me was someone once called the pinnacle of third-generation idols.
Even before K-pop achieved global popularity, someone of FYG’s caliber was fairly popular in the West.
There was nothing strange about her having visited Italy often.
“Wow… It’s really beautiful.”
I enjoyed the nighttime view like that.
I wondered how delicious a cocktail would taste while enjoying a view like this, but…
I soon realized that I still had more than ten years to go before I could legally drink, and couldn’t help feeling frustrated.
“Hmm? Why? Do you want some too, Siyeon?”
So I shot an innocent Saki, who was cracking open a can of beer beside me, a sidelong glare.