40 – turning point (1) 40.
The work on 'Rough' was finally finished.
All those weekends locked inside ROC Entertainment's studio, sacrificing sleep—it was worth it.
Still, it finished faster than I expected.
Or… was it actually late, considering I'd already made this song once before?
Well, whatever. The quality was satisfying, so it was fine.
"How is it?" I asked.
Kwon Suyoung stared at the final file for a moment, then said, "…If you ever make a song and have no one to give it to, you must come to me. Got it?"
"This is my song, right?"
So yeah. The reaction was about like that.
Even though we'd finished, it would still be a while before 'Rough' got released. It wasn't dropping as a digital single—it would be included in Hwayangyeonhwa's next album.
"Things are going to get busy now," I said.
"Right. I probably won't even be able to attend school," Sohyang replied.
"What about the festival and events?"
"I'll probably skip the festival, but I have to go to the event. If I don't, I'm screwed."
True. At Seolwon Arts High, there were exactly two things you absolutely couldn't skip: the school event and the major exam. Miss either, and it didn't matter if you were an idol or a celebrity—you were out.
On the other hand, as long as you attended those, you could skip everything else.
I glanced at Sohyang.
Once the next album dropped, meeting her would be incredibly hard. In my previous life, after that album's promotions started, she only came to school three or four times. The album blew up so massively there was no helping it.
"Will you miss me?" she asked, grinning mischievously.
I thought for a moment, then nodded honestly. "A little."
"I'm glad you'll at least miss me a little. Don't worry—I'll come by when I get time."
"Yeah. Do your best."
"Yep!"
With that, I left ROC Entertainment.
Even though I'd gone home in between, being outside like this felt strangely refreshing, like it had been ages.
"I'm home."
The house was empty. Mom was at work, and Suyeon was probably at vocal academy.
Everyone was doing what they needed to do.
I lay on my bed and recalled what President Kwon Suyoung told me.
Don't rush. Find another hobby. Resting is also part of being a professional.
"A hobby, huh…"
Maybe I should seriously try finding one. Like she said, I might gain some inspiration from it or something.
Not that I'd ever truly been inspired in my entire life.
"Did the work go well?"
Monday, after the weekend.
Having finished everything for 'Rough,' I went to school for the first time in a while. Only four days, but still.
"Yeah. Pretty well."
"You must be really satisfied, then."
"Huh?"
"You're always super stingy with complimenting yourself."
"Am I?"
I wasn't really aware of that. I mean… wasn't this just average? People were usually harsher on themselves, right?
"Anyway, what are you going to do about your club?"
"That's sudden."
"Well, you haven't been at school, so you don't know. Club sign-up ends next week."
"Hmm."
At Seolwon Arts, you could start club activities from the second semester of first year.
Clubs, huh.
At our school, they fell into two types: the hardcore clubs that practiced three to four times a week to get on stage for the festival, and the purely hobby-based clubs that didn't care about the festival and just did whatever they wanted.
"I'll look into it for now."
If I did join, it would definitely be the second type. I already had a guaranteed festival slot, so I didn't need a club for that.
More importantly, I didn't have the energy to commit to some intense club schedule. I was already insanely busy, and now I was supposed to add club activities too?
Might as well kill me.
"Want to go check them out after school?" Taeyoung asked.
"No need. There's a brochure."
"Oh."
There was a booklet where clubs promoted themselves. Right—in front of the faculty office.
I walked over, grabbed a club brochure, and returned to the classroom.
"If you were to join, what kind of club would you want?" Taeyoung asked.
"Something not related to singing. Something I can enjoy as a hobby."
Taeyoung nodded.
If not music-related, then what? The first things that came to mind were the [Photography Club] or the [Film Club]. Photos or movies… not bad.
"Oh, there's an Art Club too," Taeyoung said.
"Pass."
"Why?"
"It's probably overrun by the art department kids."
"Ah."
If we—who knew nothing about art—joined, we'd probably get laughed at.
We kept flipping through the clubs, but nothing really stood out. They all felt the same.
"Ugh. Forget it. I'll think about clubs later. Let's go eat," Taeyoung said.
"Yeah."
I stood.
Lunch was serious business. What was on the menu today?
With excitement, I headed toward the cafeteria, but on the way, I saw paintings I didn't recognize.
"What's that?" I asked.
"Oh, those are the top-scoring artworks from the art department's major exam."
"You sure know a lot."
"The teacher explained while you were gone. Also, unlike you, I don't sleep in class."
So these were all from the art department, huh.
The art department at our school was pretty well-known.
I slowed and looked at the paintings. Even someone clueless about art like me could see the quality was incredible.
And at the main entrance, there was a huge piece. Unlike the others, it was in a high-end frame.
I stopped and stared.
It wasn't a painting of any specific subject. It was a mass of colors with no clear shape—something like that. The large canvas was covered in free, untamed strokes of various colors.
At first glance, it looked like nothing. It might sound rude, but it almost looked like a child's scribbling.
And yet… something about it hit me.
A shiver ran through me. The longer I stared, the more goosebumps rose on my skin. It felt like something deep inside my chest was stirring.
A chill.
Or something else entirely.
It was the first time I'd ever felt this, so I didn't know what to call it.
I forgot about lunch and kept staring at the painting. It felt like the hallway had gone silent, as if only the painting and I existed in this space.
Everything else faded.
And then… something started rising in my head.
My spine tingled.
Once, I'd asked a friend what inspiration felt like. They said it was different for everyone, but usually, melodies started emerging in your head—melodies you didn't force, ones that felt like they were always there.
When I first heard that, I didn't believe it, because I'd never been inspired.
No—thinking about it, I guess I had. Not full inspiration, but fragments. I'd felt those fragments a couple of times before.
But they always stayed fragments. I tried to force them into something complete, but I didn't have the skill.
So I stopped believing in inspiration. I thought it was just the gift of geniuses.
But after seeing this painting, melodies flooded my head.
They weren't melodies I'd written, and they weren't ones I'd heard before. They were brand new, yet they flowed naturally, like they'd always existed.
This was different from when I made Unsent Recipient.
Back then, it was just disconnected fragments, and those melodies were ones I'd thought about writing before but gave up on.
I covered my mouth with my hand. The melodies in my mind sent chills through me.
This was the first time.
It was so new I didn't know what to do.
"Hey, hey. Hajun."
Taeyoung called from beside me, but I didn't have the luxury to reply.
I didn't know how to do it, but I knew what I had to do.
I had to record these melodies before they disappeared.
"Sorry," I said. "Eat without me."
Then I bolted for the practice room.
"What the hell…"
Left alone, Kim Taeyoung blinked and looked at the same painting.
To him, it just looked… strange. A large canvas covered in layered colors. He spotted a handprint, and marks that looked like they'd been sliced with a knife.
Or was that a footprint?
"The title is… 'Unrestrained'?"
Actually, that fit perfectly.
He stared a bit more, then shook his head. There was something to it, but it wasn't his taste.
Still, Hajun had clearly felt something from it. A lot of musicians drew inspiration from art, after all, and judging by what he saw, Hajun definitely got inspired by that painting.
Taeyoung could understand. It had happened to him before.
However—
"Why did he look so creepy when it happened?"
When Hajun got inspired, his expression was terrifying. He probably didn't even realize it, but he'd had this twisted smile on his face.
"Whatever. Let's eat."
Taeyoung scratched his head and headed to the cafeteria.
Even while walking, he kept thinking about Hajun.
Hajun was fascinating. He had incredible talent, but he also carried emotions so deep and dark they were indescribable.
What had he gone through to harbor emotions like that?
That deep, shadowy feeling… Taeyoung felt something familiar in it. Which was why he liked Hajun's music.
What kind of song would he make next?
With that thought, Taeyoung headed to lunch, full of anticipation.
My fingers moved as if they didn't belong to me.
Melodies flowed in my head. Not ones I wrote. Not ones I knew. They felt like existing songs.
"Ah."
Damn.
This was crazy.
I shouldn't be like this, but I couldn't stop my fingers.
This wasn't my usual working style. Normally, composing felt like carving pieces from a collection of melodies. I made an excessive amount of material, threw most of it out, and kept only what mattered.
But now, I was filling it from start to finish without getting stuck.
It felt like coloring in a picture. The outline was already there, and all I had to do was add the colors where they belonged.
It flowed so easily I wondered if it was even okay for it to be this smooth.
Before I knew it, lunch was over. Classes had long started, but I couldn't stop my hands.
If I stopped now, I was terrified I'd lose the melodies forever.
So I dragged out every melody in my head, arranging them as they came.
By the time I finished, classes were completely over.
"I'm screwed."
How was I supposed to explain this?
I let out a sigh, and yet I was smiling.
Not because I wanted to. It just came out naturally.
I touched my lips with my hand, but the smile wouldn't fade.
Maybe it was because of the work.
Normally, composing was agonizing.
But this time, it was fun. So fun I wanted to keep doing it forever.
I finally understood why geniuses chased inspiration so desperately.
After experiencing this once, how could you ever go back?
"Done with the song?"
Still drunk on the afterglow, I heard Taeyoung's voice. I hadn't noticed him come in.
He was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the practice room.
"When did you get here?" I asked.
"Just now."
"What about class?"
"Homeroom and cleaning are already over."
"…Did the teachers say anything?"
"They said they understood—'he got inspired and went to compose.' But they told me to tell you to get your ass to the staff room as soon as you finish."
"Damn."
Great. Was my homeroom teacher going to blacklist me now?
I'd slept in class before, but I'd never skipped. I never thought I'd cut class like this.
"So? Are you satisfied with the track?" Taeyoung asked.
"…I think so."
Honestly, I was still dazed. I made it myself, but it didn't feel real.
It didn't even feel like my song. It felt surreal.
"When you compose on inspiration, it always feels like that."
"Really?"
"You've done inspiration-based stuff a bunch of times."
"This is my first."
"What?"
Sure, I'd felt fragment-like inspiration twice before, but this was the first time I'd felt full inspiration.
"For real?" Taeyoung asked.
"Why would I lie?"
Taeyoung stared at me like I was some bizarre creature.
What, was it that weird to say I'd never felt inspiration before?
I let out a sigh. Yeah… to someone like Taeyoung, it probably was.
In the land of the one-eyed, the man with two eyes is a monster.
"…Can I hear what you made?" Taeyoung asked.
"Yeah. I want to listen properly too."
I nodded and played back the recording.
Would it sound good? Did I capture the feeling in my head properly?
With a nervous heart, I listened.
A gentle piano melody.
Compared to the melody in my mind, it was still lacking. I'd have to enrich it with virtual instruments. Add more layers. Sound effects…
What else could I do to deepen the melodic line?
I listened while imagining how to complement it.
Soon, the melody ended.
It wasn't perfect compared to what was in my head, but all the important elements were there.
With a trembling voice, I asked Taeyoung, "How is it?"
Taeyoung slowly opened his mouth.
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