No More Thug Life, I’m Playing Music

Episode #12: Chaconne (2)

Recently, two videos have been trending online.
They spread across various community forums, so much so that anyone logging in could easily stumble upon them.

The first was a clip titled “Delinquents Get a Taste of Their Own Medicine” from a high school incident.
It showed a lone male student single-handedly taking down a group of over ten others.
Although the faces were blurred, the brutal efficiency of his moves was left fully visible.

Initially, most comments condemned the aggressor in the video, outraged by such violence in a student.
But within hours, as the backgrounds of the so-called victims were revealed, public opinion shifted entirely.
The reaction turned from criticism to praise for the student’s impressive fighting skills.

People even managed to uncover the identity of the male student, but any posts about it were swiftly taken down.

The second video was of a classical concert held in the lobby of Shinhwa Hospital.
The performer, dressed in hospital attire, played the piano onstage.
The footage was cleverly edited, showing only the back or side profile of the performer.
At first glance, it seemed far less captivating than the first video.

However, several factors amplified its reception.

One was the comments from the audience present at the time:

“At first, I couldn’t take my eyes off his idol-like face, but once the music started, I couldn’t even see his face anymore.”
“Before I knew it, I was crying.”
“I’ve never cared about classical music, but I was glued to my seat until the very end, unable to move.”

Another was the reaction of the conductor.
That day’s performance had been a surprise appearance by the world-renowned conductor Park Myunghoon, familiar to the public from his frequent TV appearances.
His expression became a talking point.

Known for his commanding and charismatic demeanor, Park’s face in the video showed an entirely different side—filled with love and tenderness as he gazed at the pianist.
The stark contrast between his usual persona and the almost grandfatherly affection in his eyes created a buzz.

Clips of his alternating expressions were cross-edited and circulated online, sparking even more interest.

****

“That’s you, isn’t it?”
Seo Sooji, my teacher, asked.

“Yes.”

“I knew you were talented, but not to this extent….”

“I didn’t think so either.”

It was the truth.
When I play, I enter a state of flow where I lose all awareness of myself.
Even I was a bit surprised watching the video later.

“Anyway….”
Seo Sooji placed her phone on her desk and looked me straight in the eyes.

“How’s the ensemble? Doesn’t our orchestra seem too basic compared to your level?”

“Not at all. I’m enjoying it.”

“Glad to hear that.”
She tapped her fingernails lightly on the desk before continuing.

“Let me cut to the chase. I need to ask you a favor.”

“Go ahead.”

“Could you play the piano for our upcoming annual concert next week? It’s our orchestra’s first-ever official performance, and having you play would make it so much more meaningful.”

“Hmm.”

What should I play?
I began mulling it over.

“If you play, the concert’s quality would go up significantly. Please consider it.”

“Hmm.”

The piece I learned from the professor yesterday could work….
But there are so many pieces I want to perform.

“If you have a particular piece in mind, let me know. I can’t offer much, but we’ll make sure you’re compensated.”

“Hmm.”

“Too much to ask?”
Seo Sooji frowned slightly, noticing how long I’d been lost in thought.

It was only then that I realized I’d been silent for too long.
I decided to reassure her first.

“I’ll do it.”

“Really?”
She beamed like a child, grabbing my hand in excitement.

The scent of her hand cream and the smooth texture of her skin caught me off guard, and I unintentionally blurted out my thoughts.

“If you’re that grateful, how about a meal with me?”

“Sorry? Sure, why not.”

“Where should we meet, then?”

“Where else?”
She smiled faintly as she answered.

“The cafeteria.”

****

The house we were in was the one I used to live in.
Now, it’s Junsoo’s home.

A few days ago, the place had felt barren, like no one really lived there.
But now?
It was bright, chaotic, and bursting with color.

The blend of Choo Minji’s playful aesthetic and Kim Bom’s glamorous taste had transformed the space into something unrecognizable.
If not for the grand piano in the living room, no one would think it was meant to be a music studio.

Beep!
Junsoo stepped on a fallen toy on the floor.
He quickly glanced at Minji, who was sitting at a distance, checking her phone.

Relieved she hadn’t noticed, he let out a small sigh of relief and sat down next to me.

“Seojoon, I still get startled every time I come down to the first floor. It doesn’t feel like my house anymore.”

He smiled, his face brighter than before.
The Junsoo who once couldn’t even approach me now seemed much more confident.

I nodded, amused by his growth.

“Let’s throw everything out.”

“No, no! It’s not that bad!”
He waved his hands frantically, lowering his voice.

“If we did, Minji noona would kill me….”

I turned my gaze toward Minji.
She was sitting on a faded sofa in the corner of the living room, engrossed in her phone.

“Heh.”
I could guess what she was looking at—the hospital lobby video views.

Knowing that half the revenue would come to me, I couldn’t help but smile as I watched her.

****

“That noona really is something else,” Junsoo murmured.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Just… it’s amazing how cheerful she is now, considering how she used to be….” He trailed off, realizing he’d said too much.

I considered pressing him for details but stopped myself. Life has taught me one thing: there’s no need to dig into someone else’s story unless they choose to share it.

“Junsoo, go back upstairs and study. Or draw something. Don’t you plan to go to college?”

“Alright, just let me hang out a bit longer.”

I thought of scolding him, but his bright expression stopped me.

It surprised me—this cheerful side of him.

“By the way, Seojoon, do you play games?”

“Games? I used to.”

“What? League? PUBG?”

“StarCraft.”

“Ah… okay. What about your favorite sport? Soccer? Baseball?”

“UFC.”

“…Right….”

Maybe it’s because I’ve grown younger, but conversations with Junsoo flow more easily now.

“Who’s your favorite singer, then?”

“Choi Baekho.”

“Who’s that…?”

We were enjoying this casual back-and-forth when Kim Bom emerged from the small room we’d converted into a practice space.

Walking up to Choo Minji, who was lying on the couch, she spoke in a sharp tone.

“Noona, aren’t you going to practice?”

“No~ No lessons this week, so no practice~”

“Don’t you care about getting into college?”

“No~ Plenty of spots for bass players~”

Minji waved her hand dismissively, signaling her to go away. Bom bit her lip but persisted.

“Then help me out.”

“Oh my, you need my help?”

“Yes.”

“Nope.”

Minji resumed humming and fiddling with her phone, blatantly ignoring her. But Bom didn’t give up.

“Record a performance for me. Like the one you filmed for Seojoon.”

“Out of the blue?”

“I just want to have it recorded.”

“Why?”

“Do I have to explain that, too?”

“Hmm, after that attitude? No thanks—”

“I’ll buy you beef tomorrow.”

Minji shot up instantly, her face lit up with a bright smile.

“How can I assist you, dear junior?”

Watching them from afar, I couldn’t help but smile. If only they wore longer skirts and less makeup—they’d be adorable kids.

****

“Hey, Seojoon.” Junsoo, fiddling with his phone, suddenly called out.

“What?”

“Why do you always have your phone turned off?”

“It’s too noisy.”

“Noisy with what?”

“Ugh….”

I sighed, pulling out my phone to show him.

“Here.”

“Whoa… no way….”

His jaw dropped at the sheer number of unread messages piled up in my chat app.

“Wow… you’re really popular, huh?”

Junsoo chuckled awkwardly, just as Minji shouted from across the room.

“Hey, gangster! Junsoo!”

She held a finger to her lips, signaling us to stay quiet.

Apparently, everything was set up. Bom stood holding her violin while Minji had the camera positioned in front of her.

I settled into a seat far from them. Junsoo followed, sitting beside me.

Sitting here reminded me of the past, when my older brother would leave Junsoo in my care. Back then, I’d always turn on the TV to keep him entertained.

“Do you like Doraemon?” I asked, recalling those times.

“…No! I’m not a kid anymore….”

Still the same, I see.

A brief silence followed before Bom’s performance began.

The first sound of her bow sliding down the violin strings was powerful, as if several violins were playing in unison.

“Wow… Kim Bom is amazing….” Junsoo’s eyes sparkled with admiration.

“The music is so grand yet somehow sad….”

“That’s Bach’s Chaconne,” I explained, pleased to hear a familiar piece.

“Bach? I’ve heard of him, but Chaconne? Is that the name of the piece?”

“Let me tell you the story,” I said, clearing my throat slightly.

****

Bach, the father of music. His compositions were unappreciated during his lifetime.

In an era dominated by orthodoxy, his music was considered irreverent, so much so that even the church often withheld his salary.

Despite his struggles, Bach had a devoted wife who was said to be the perfect partner for his fiery temperament.
Their marriage was reportedly harmonious, free of major conflicts.

But their time together was short—no genius can escape the inevitability of death.

When Bach was thirty-five, he left home for two months to accompany his employer on a journey.

Upon his return, he discovered his wife had passed away in his absence.

Overcome with guilt for not being there in her final moments and for being unable to provide a proper funeral, he poured his grief and regret into composing a piece for her.

That piece was Chaconne.

****

“Actually, Chaconne refers to the form of the piece. The full title is Chaconne from Bach’s Partita No. 2 for Solo Violin,” I explained.

“Ah….”

“If you listen closely, you can feel Bach’s anguish over his wife’s death. It’s almost like a requiem dedicated to her. That’s why it’s often used as background music in movies or dramas during tragic scenes.”

“Wow… Seojoon, you’re so smart. That’s really cool.”

“That’s not all. Bach’s Chaconne has also been arranged for piano by other composers….”

To be honest, I never used to care much about the historical aspects of music.
That changed after I started lessons with a certain professor.

A few days ago:

“Kevin, there’s nothing more I can teach you in terms of technique. Instead, I’ll teach you not just notes but music. Things that will make your performances more enjoyable. For example, do you remember the score I gave you last week?”

“Yes, the arrangement of Chaconne by Brahms, right?”

“Exactly. Do you know why he arranged it?”

“Because he was bored?”

“…This arrangement has a very poignant story. But before that, it’s important to understand Bach’s original Chaconne. Did you know that Bach’s music wasn’t popular during his lifetime?”

The professor’s lessons were invaluable, sparking my interest in the broader context of music—something I’d never cared about before.

Thanks to that, I could maintain my dignity in front of my nephew.
The kid who once looked at me with disdain now gazed at me with respect and admiration.

It felt unexpectedly gratifying.

“I wish I could play the violin like…” Junsoo began excitedly, only to be interrupted by Choo Minji’s sudden shout.

“Hey! Can you two keep it down? Your voices are getting picked up in the audio!”

“Oh, sorry.”

“My bad!”

****

Before long, silence fell over Junsoo’s house.

Minji left, saying she was going to karaoke with some friends, and Junsoo went upstairs to study.
I sat down at the grand piano to practice but waited while Kim Bom finished tidying her violin.

Swish.
She carefully wiped her violin with a pink microfiber cloth, paying extra attention to the underside, where the word “BLISS” was engraved.
Her affection for the instrument was evident in her gaze.

Despite her usual grumbling about music, it seemed she didn’t hate it as much as she let on—or maybe it was just because the violin was expensive.

Noticing her pale, almost translucent skin, I couldn’t help but wonder, Does she ever go outside?

“Are you interested in me?”

“Huh?”

“What are you staring at?”

“Just waiting for you to finish….”

“If you’re planning to confess, let me know so I can put on some lip balm.”

I let out a short laugh, shaking my head.

“Stop messing around and get going. I need to practice.”

As I unfolded the sheet music, Bom slung her violin case over her shoulder and stood by my side.

“What were you really looking at?”

“Nothing. Just thinking how even the rich value something worth a billion won.”

“…A billion? Oh.”

She glanced at her violin case and added softly, “It’s my mom’s.”

“…….”

“She was a violinist.”

“I see….”

“Does that answer your question?”

“What question?”

“You must’ve wondered why someone like me bothers with music. Why I don’t just find another path. Or if I’m just doing this to get into college.”

Her tone carried an edge I hadn’t heard before.

“I know I’m not talented. So don’t look at me like that.”

“…….”

“There’s not much time left anyway….”

With that, Bom left the house.

“Jeez.”

I clicked my tongue, watching her retreating figure.

She must still be upset about us talking during the recording.
But more than that, she seemed gloomier than when I first met her.

“Is something going on…?”

I’d never had a normal female friend, so dealing with women—regardless of their age—remained a mystery to me.

****

“Ugh… pathetic.”

As Bom stepped outside, she muttered to herself.

“Pathetic. Why did I lose my temper like that….”

She must have been baffled.
There was no way he’d remember their shared history.

Buzz.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

The caller ID read “XXX.”

Biting her lower lip, she answered.

“Yes, Dad.”

“Where are you?”

“At school. Practicing and then heading to a lesson.”

“Are you sure? If you quit your lessons without permission again, you can kiss your phone goodbye.”

“Then how will you keep tabs on me…?”

Click.

“…….”

Bom gripped her phone tightly, raising it as if to throw it.
But she couldn’t.
Her only escape from this suffocating life was contained within the device.

Letting out a deep sigh, she put the phone back in her pocket and turned toward the subway station.

That’s when someone blocked her path.

She looked up, and her face twisted in recognition.

“…Choi Pilwook?”