Gyeoul was wearing clothes that felt similar to a school uniform.
A pleated navy skirt and a white shirt,
the library’s soft lighting cast shadows across her beautiful face.
As if closing time was near, the library staff were putting away books.
They looked at Gyeoul with curious eyes.
Even without dressing herself up extravagantly, she was more than enough to draw attention.
Seoha’s breathing began to settle.
As his mind, which had been racing madly out of control, cooled, his reason returned.
“What brings you here all of a sudden? Without even calling…”
The visit was so abrupt that Seoha had no idea what to say.
“I got into college.”
“Where?”
“Curtis. It’s in Philadelphia, so it’s not that far from here.”
“Ah! So that’s why!”
“Yeah. I was busy preparing for the entrance exam. The practical exam is important there.”
Gyeoul broke off and looked Seoha over as if observing him.
“But since when have you been such a mess? Have you been like this the whole time since you came to America?”
The timing was terrible.
‘No? Is it the opposite?’
Gyeoul always appeared when he desperately needed her.
“Not exactly. The CD you sent me was a huge help. It’s late, but thank you. Really.”
“Looking at you now, it doesn’t seem like it had much effect.”
Seoha shook his head.
“That’s not true. If I hadn’t had it, I’d probably be in far worse shape than I am now. When I listened to the CD, I imagined you sitting in front of the piano. Just that alone brought my fever down a little.”
For a moment, Gyeoul looked at him without saying anything.
His way of speaking, without ornament or exaggeration, was just as it had been when she had seen him a year ago.
“Students! It’s closing time now.”
Someone broke the silence.
The staff who had been arranging books along the edge of the hall began turning off the lights one by one.
“We should get out of here first.”
“Yeah. Still, I was lucky. I barely managed to find an empty piano. And in such a wonderful place, too.”
Before leaving, Gyeoul looked around the hall.
It had a dome structure with a high, open ceiling. What set it apart from an ordinary concert hall was that every wall was lined with bookshelves.
Gyeoul liked the way sound resonated here.
When they came outside, the late-night air blew coolly against them.
There was almost no wind, but the damp humidity unique to New England made them draw in on themselves.
After walking a few minutes away from campus, they saw a pharmacy with its lights still on.
Gyeoul abruptly quickened her pace and went inside. A moment later, she came out holding disinfectant and bandages.
“Sit here.”
Gyeoul lightly pushed Seoha down onto a nearby bench.
When Seoha obediently sat, Gyeoul opened the pharmacy bag and began taking out its contents.
“Let me see your knee.”
Rustle.
When he rolled up his pants, his knee was revealed to be badly scraped.
A wound deeper than she had expected.
Gyeoul’s expression hardened.
“What were you doing to get hurt like this? This is too serious.”
“It’s fine. It’ll heal quickly. This happened all the time in Okcheon, too.”
Gyeoul took out a small piece of gauze and soaked it with disinfectant.
Perhaps because she was unused to it, she poured it on as if spilling it.
“Is this your first time doing this?”
Seoha barely held back the laughter that was about to burst out.
“Be quiet.”
Her hands were slow and unsteady, but she successfully disinfected the wound and put on the bandage.
“Does it hurt?”
“No, it doesn’t hurt at all.”
It was strange.
His knee, which had been throbbing so badly that it was hard to walk, now felt as fresh as if it had completely healed.
“Are you free tomorrow evening?”
Gyeoul frowned, as if dissatisfied with the treatment she had done.
“I am.”
“Then meet me at six in the evening. In front of Boston Symphony Hall.”
“Huh?”
A sacred site for musicians,
a place known for producing the most perfect acoustics in the world.
“My teacher is performing with the Boston Symphony tomorrow. I have the tickets, so don’t worry.”
When Seoha looked surprised, Gyeoul smiled mischievously.
“What? Are you disappointed that I didn’t come because of you?”
It was true that Gyeoul had come here because of Seoha.
When she heard that Seonhwa would be performing in Boston, Gyeoul had thought she absolutely had to go there.
The two tickets she had barely managed to get after pestering Seonhwa—this was something even her mother, who was at the hotel, did not know about.
“No, I thought you were the one performing there.”
Gyeoul’s eyes widened.
“Even for me, that’s impossible right now. Maybe in about five years. By the way, do you have a suit?”
Compared to a year ago, he had grown more than ten centimeters. The suit he had worn before surely would not fit.
“No, I borrowed one when I had photos taken…”
“Then meet me at the same place at four.”
As if her business was finished, Gyeoul placed the bandages and disinfectant in Seoha’s hands and leisurely walked away.
* * *
The next day,
Seoha arrived early at the meeting place.
“It looks like you find it fascinating.”
Seeing in person the building he had only seen in photographs, he could feel its overwhelming grandeur.
Boston Symphony Hall was an extremely distinctive building.
Its massive columns were in the Doric Order, the style one could see in the Parthenon. Yet as if insisting that this was New England, the walls were built of red brick.
It gave the impression that Greek idealist philosophy had joined hands with American realism.
“You’re here?”
Gyeoul appeared dressed comfortably in jeans.
Seoha looked at his reflection in the window.
After agonizing over it for a long time, he had taken out the pants and shirt that seemed the most presentable. He felt embarrassed, as if he had been the only one to make an effort.
She looked Seoha up and down.
“All right, let’s go!”
“Where?”
“The costume shop.”
“Huh?”
“Did you think I was going to go like this?”
Seoha’s face turned red.
“Ah…”
“There are a lot of costume shops near the orchestra hall. The musicians need to change right after rehearsal. And when you’re under the stage lights, you sweat a lot…”
Seoha glanced around and asked,
“But I’m just a regular person.”
“You have me. Don’t worry and follow me.”
The place she found was a boutique run by a Korean owner, located slightly off the main road.
As befitted a city famous for music, Boston hosted a variety of international competitions.
This was a place Gyeoul had relied on whenever she came to Boston.
Jingle.
When the bell rang, the staff looked out.
“Oh my! Gyeoul’s here?”
“Really?”
The staff came out and gathered around Gyeoul. Gyeoul smiled and exchanged warm greetings with them.
“It’s not my performance today, so keep it simple for me. More importantly, please dress him up properly.”
The staff’s gazes all turned to Seoha at once.
Flinch.
The way the staff looked at Seoha, as if assessing him,
made him stiffen with tension and unconsciously straighten his back.
“Oh my, he’s handsome.”
“He is. Gyeoul has a good eye. His build is nice. His arms and legs are long, too. A boy like this will look like a picture in a suit.”
“Blue or navy tones would be good.”
The staff burst into laughter and began moving busily.
“Now, we have to take your measurements first. Come this way.”
Before he knew it, Seoha was dragged along and entrusted himself to the staff.
Meanwhile, Gyeoul also went inside to get her outfit ready.
“Raise your arms, please.”
After taking his measurements, they had him try on several outfits.
One designer sat Seoha down in a chair and picked up a pair of scissors.
Snip, snip.
After the haircut was finished, they styled his hair and even did his makeup.
Someone took out powder and a brush and evened out Seoha’s skin tone.
‘What on earth is happening?’
Seoha felt as though his soul was about to leave his body.
After what felt like an eternity, the okay sign finally came.
“It was worth it. His features really come alive.”
The designer looked at Seoha and smiled in satisfaction.
“Are you done over there?”
Rattle.
At the sound of the curtain opening, Seoha turned his head.
Gyeoul was slowly walking in.
A tightly woven black dress emphasized her slender waist.
With the off-shoulder dress exposing her shoulders, Gyeoul gave off a mature air unlike her usual self.
At the sight of her beauty, even the staff in the boutique were left speechless.
“I knew this would happen. I said Gyeoul would put actresses to shame once she grew up, didn’t I?”
“She’s really, really pretty.”
At the staff’s fuss, Gyeoul shyly flushed.
She stopped in front of Seoha. Then she nodded.
“Mm, not bad.”
She said it as if indifferent, but Gyeoul’s eyes lingered for a long time on Seoha’s long neck and neat jawline.
“The two of you look so good together. We should take a picture or something.”
“That’s right. We could use this for our portfolio. Now, come stand over here.”
Inside the boutique, there was a simple studio set up for photo shoots.
The two of them stood there and posed.
Seoha stood stiffly at attention like a block of wood, while Gyeoul looked at him and laughed.
Click.
“I’ll print the photo later and send it to you.”
“Please send me the original file, too.”
Gyeoul carefully wrote down her email address on a piece of paper.
When they came out of the boutique, everyone passing by looked at Gyeoul at least once.
“It’ll start soon. Let’s go.”
Seoha began walking. But Gyeoul stayed where she was and did not move.
“Why?”
With her arms crossed, she looked at Seoha with a displeased expression.
“Right hand at your waist!”
“Huh?”
“Put your right hand at your waist.”
“Uh… okay.”
Bewildered, Seoha did as Gyeoul said and brought his right hand to his waist.
Then Gyeoul quietly approached and lightly linked arms with him.
“It’s hard to walk in a dress.”
Seoha’s face turned red.
The two of them began walking in step.
Walking through downtown Boston with Seoha gave Gyeoul a strange feeling.
Every time a car passed by, Seoha’s side profile brightened and darkened.
The small boy had, at some point, shot up to the point that he was now a head taller than her.
As the sunset settled, the two arrived at the hall right on time.
At the entrance, an employee was checking tickets. Still linked arm in arm, Gyeoul took out a small envelope with her other hand and showed it to him.
“Please enjoy the performance.”
He smiled as he returned the ticket stubs.
“Wow…”
Without realizing it, Seoha looked up at the lobby.
A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, while golden decorations and classical Greek patterns formed a strange harmony on the walls.
“Our seats are on the second floor. All the good seats were already gone.”
They climbed the stairs and found their seats.
From the stage came the sound of the orchestra tuning their instruments.
“It’s starting now.”
When the conductor walked out, everything around them fell silent.
As he stood on the podium and raised his arms, the soft sound of violins rang out.
The air began to tremble.
Sounds that had existed only within the score became reality and reached his ears.
Bach’s Sinfonia, arranged by Stravinsky.
Every instrument repeated symmetry, inversion, diminution, and augmentation within the rules Bach had set.
When the violins ascended, the violas played the same figure in a lower register, and the cellos stretched the notes out at half the speed.
Each voice did not interfere with the others, yet interlocked at precise ratios.
Gyeoul glanced at Seoha, who was focused on the orchestra, then gently took hold of his wrist.
“Huh?”
Startled, Seoha looked to the side.
As if nothing were wrong, Gyeoul brought her index finger to her lips.
“Shh! Stabilization session.”
She pointed to his wrist, where his pulse beat.
“Ah…”
Seoha nodded as if he understood.
Music created by a master of the Baroque era,
newly interpreted and performed by the finest musicians of the modern age.
‘Come to think of it…’
From the moment he had chosen his clothes that morning until now, Seoha remembered that he had not thought of numbers even once all day.
He could feel Gyeoul’s warmth at his wrist.
Thump, thump.
It was as if he could clearly hear the sound of her heartbeat.
For the past year, he had done far too much without rest. The nerves in his head had been pulled taut, stretched so tight it would not have been strange if they snapped at any moment.
But now, as Gyeoul’s hand touched him, they were gently loosening.
The warm melody of Bach flowed as if drifting beyond the edges of consciousness. Gyeoul was slowly matching her breathing to his pulse. The tension gradually faded from Seoha’s face.
An intractable problem with no answer in sight. An equation that would not be solved.
In this moment, Seoha forgot everything.
He was simply at ease, for the first time in a very long while.
‘Huh?’
Gyeoul flinched.
Seoha had begun nodding off, then dropped his head onto her shoulder.
She glanced sideways at him.
Seoha’s face looked so peaceful, with a faint smile at the corners of his mouth.
Gyeoul shifted her body slightly back so it would be easier for him to lean on her.
Before long, the piece ended and Seonhwa came out.
It was her teacher’s performance, the first she had heard in quite some time, but nothing entered her ears. Gyeoul could only hope that he would not notice the sudden loudness of her own heartbeat.
Why was she thinking now of what he had said the day before?
‘Do you really need me?’
Gyeoul quietly gazed at Seoha’s sleeping face.
‘Even without music?’
Her gaze turned forward.
Then, in a voice so small that no one could hear, she murmured,
“I do.”