DADA-DAN—
Ham Ah-yoon’s performance was worthy of being called perfect. Her fingers moved with confidence, producing precisely intended melodies. It sounded like something that would evoke admiration from anyone who listened.
But something was strange.
‘Why is this…?’
Right at this moment, Sua was feeling a subtle sense of discomfort.
It was similar to the feeling of having one piece missing from an otherwise impeccable puzzle. Some kind of lack. There was something she couldn’t pinpoint, a very minor thing that seemed to be missing.
How much time had passed?
While Sua was pondering what that missing puzzle piece might be, Ham Ah-yoon’s performance came to an end. Ah-yoon rose from her seat without any grand airs, as if she had done nothing extraordinary.
Soon, the director, who wore a baseball cap, spoke up.
“Having heard that, none of you would say we shouldn’t choose Ah-yoon, would you? Her acting is already great, and now we’ve seen how well she can play the piano. She’s Kim So-hee incarnate, isn’t she?”
Her gaze soon turned toward Sua and Kim I-seo.
“I don’t even think Director Ko Tae-min need answer. The rookies probably sense it too.”
Sua quietly looked around.
The atmosphere had changed after Ham Ah-yoon’s piano performance. Even the people nearby seemed very disconcerted.
Kim I-seo was biting her lips at that moment.
“Who would’ve thought she was this good….”
Then she quietly whispered to Sua.
“Sua, it might be better to just back down.”
“Huh?”
“It’s better not to provoke any conflict with Ah-yoon.”
The reasoning that followed from Kim I-seo was not difficult to understand.
Ham Ah-yoon, the winner of a prestigious music competition.
She was an actress managed by a one-person agency but was different from others starting from scratch. Instead, Ham Ah-yoon was like a walking enterprise, and the agency was formed later to support her.
“Hmm.”
“Moreover, regardless of Director Go’s intentions, it seems a good portion of the production team already favors Ham Ah-yoon. There’s nothing for us to gain by going head-to-head.”
Which meant that Sua’s side should first signal an intention to back down, thereby wrapping the situation up smoothly.
It seemed fairly reasonable to Sua, too. Though losing “Crescendo from Tomorrow” would be tough, it was the way to minimize the conflicts they would face.
Kim I-seo favored safety over gambling. Sua’s safety.
However, it didn’t happen that way.
Because Sua didn’t step back.
“No.”
Sua hadn’t forgotten why she was here.
1.9-grade script. Came here to secure the role of Kim So-hee.
That was the intention — and she’d go back having achieved it.
With her decision made, Sua’s lips parted.
“I want the Kim So-hee role too.”
At this very moment, after confirming a bonus condition, Sua’s goal became clearer. She had checked her suitability for other roles, wondering if she could compromise and take on an alternative, but only Kim So-hee was suitable.
She couldn’t afford to miss out on the 1.9-grade script.
To participate, she must partake as Kim So-hee.
She couldn’t step back.
The baseball cap-wearing director tilted her head.
“You just heard Ah-yoon’s performance, right? And yet you’re still ready to try?”
“Yes. I’m sincere about wanting the Kim So-hee role. I have my own passion for music too. I believe I’m just as capable.”
“What?”
“Besides, it’s not like I’ve had my turn yet.”
Every pair of eyes was on Sua, her heart pounding. But she squeezed out her words, brimming with courage. It was worth it. Because of the 1.9-grade script.
Also because it was the perfect stepping stone to ‘graduating’ as a musician.
“Ah-yoon was the only one who performed. It would only be fair if I got my turn as well.”
“No…”
The director momentarily lost her train of thought, stunned.
“…Is it really about whose turn it is right now?”
Her eyebrows twitched.
“You wouldn’t be able to match her performance, even if it’s your turn. Do you know that? Ah-yoon’s a winner of prestigious competitions. There’s no point in trying. Not everything requires a direct comparison.”
Her playing was impeccable, somehow.
Sua had no intention of diminishing Ah-yoon’s performance. Even her overly sensitive ears were satisfied with the melody. Yet, Sua made another polite request. She couldn’t back down.
“You haven’t made a final decision on this, Director. Support from the production team is all you have, right? How about a direct comparison? Fairly.”
“….”
“You have no reason to reject this. The moment the comparison occurs, the difference between the two will be even clearer. And it might be a chance for you to gain even more support.”
Sua finished her words and gulped nervously, contemplating the intelligence of Kim Yu-han as she framed the argument. Would it be fine? Was she smart enough?
Meanwhile, Ham Ah-yoon narrowed her eyes.
It wasn’t due to dissatisfaction. Just curiosity.
‘…What’s this rookie about?’
During her performance, Ah-yoon doubted what she was seeing.
Until now, whenever she began playing, there wasn’t a single person who didn’t look deeply moved. She took it for granted. After all, the melodies she created were internationally acclaimed.
However,
‘This was the first time I saw such a blank expression.’
Today, Ah-yoon discovered her first exception.
It was because I-sua, this rookie, tilted her head.
Why is music great?
Because even without understanding it perfectly, you can still be moved by it. Even if you don’t know much about it, it can energize you when you hear it. Melodies manipulate human emotions without needing special words.
But I-sua was different.
Instead, she looked as if she were questioning Ah-yoon’s performance.
No, her expression suggested she was searching for something missing.
…Wasn’t she like Ah-yoon’s father?
The only person in the world who never acknowledged Ah-yoon’s performances. That foolish person who had said, even when she won the prestigious competition, that it didn’t matter.
An unpleasant feeling stirred within Ah-yoon’s heart.
She eyed I-sua’s face once more.
Her appearance was impeccable.
The sharp lines of her face creating a fierce impression, perfect proportions that drew admiration, and the rookie lacked none of the confidence to meet every gaze head-on.
‘A normal rookie would’ve run away by now.’
The entertainment industry was, at the end of the day, where people lived. For those in the business, or companies like hers, there was no point in picking a fight.
And yet, I-sua acted as if she wasn’t afraid.
‘What’s the source of her confidence? Does she know how to play music?’
Just as Ham Ah-yoon began to grow curious about I-sua,
Sua’s lips parted again.
“I want the role of Kim So-hee. Sincerely.”
“Hey, you—!”
The director was about to scold loudly but couldn’t finish her sentence. Ham Ah-yoon had grabbed her arm for the first time.
Instead, Ham Ah-yoon spoke up.
“Alright.”
With a quiet nod.
“Then, let’s do this.”
Every eye in the room turned to Ham Ah-yoon. Gazing at Sua with an indifferent expression for a moment, she spoke.
“In my opinion, an actress who plays Kim So-hee needs two things.”
“What are they?”
“First, the director’s approval. If you lack that, then you must have a skill level that convincingly persuades everyone. What do you think?”
Sua nodded her head.
Contrary to the manager, Ah-yoon herself seemed to regard the director’s approval as most important. This was the moment Sua looked at Ah-yoon in a different light.
“I haven’t received the director’s approval. That’s why I persuaded the production team with my skill. But you have the director’s approval. If you also show skill, I will step back and accept it.”
Afterward, Ah-yoon did not wait for Sua’s response, and her fingers moved as fluidly as flowing water.
The thin, long fingers pressed a single key.
DAN—
It didn’t stop there.
Two more keys, sequentially.
DAN—DAN—
Subsequently, Ah-yoon folded her arms and looked at Sua.
“Well, how was that?”
“…I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
“Comparing our playing abilities will be unfair.”
Ah-yoon continued slowly.
“I’m a competition winner. You’d inevitably be worse than me. Thus, we’ll test perfect pitch. Just casually, state the notes you’ve heard. If you can achieve that, I’ll recognize your skill.”
Sua blinked quietly.
Though sudden, it didn’t seem like there was a reason to refuse.
Firstly, Ah-yoon’s argument was very reasonable. This was also a chance to display the legitimacy of her claim to Kim So-hee in front of everyone.
“….”
The problem was that she didn’t remember the notes played just now.
Of course, this was only natural for Sua. After all, if a test was a test, it should’ve been announced clearly. But the test was sprung on her afterward, so how could she know?
A silence ensued. Sua felt aggrieved.
“…Is this level difficult for you as well?”
Ah-yoon’s eyebrows soon furrowed.
“The filming for ‘Crescendo from Tomorrow’ days is not far away. Music is something innate, or something that must be learned at an early age. If even this is difficult, it’s impossible for you to play Kim So-hee even if you start learning now.”
In truth, Ah-yoon was focused on something else.
To her, the role of Kim So-hee was important, but what Ah-yoon wanted to confirm right now was the reason behind the expression Sua wore earlier.
Why exactly did she wear that expression?
Why did she make the same expression as Ah-yoon’s father?
Because she didn’t understand music at all and therefore didn’t get it?
Or because, like her father, she saw something else?
Ah-yoon felt she might become insane if she couldn’t confirm this.
Of course, by this point, a hint of competitiveness stirred in Sua’s heart.
No, if I can listen again, I’m pretty confident. I feel so aggrieved I want to cry. On the other hand, I’m also curious as to how good my hearing has become.
This is a prime opportunity to check, isn’t it?
Therefore, Sua’s plump lips parted.
“I’ll do it. Again.”
“Okay.”
Just as Ah-yoon was about to press the keyboard again, something unexpected happened.
It was a brief moment.
“…Eek!”
Ah-yoon’s slippers slipped, causing her body to sway heavily.
Her hands frantically searched for something to grab onto as she tried to stabilize herself, but naturally, there was nothing around except the keyboard.
KWAANG—!
Ah-yoon managed to press the keys hard to maintain balance, sparing herself from falling flat on the ground.
Or rather, falling might’ve been better. An accidental collision could’ve injured the fingers that she prized more than her own life. Just imagining her hands getting hurt filled her with shock.
Ah-yoon scowled.
“It was a slight slip. Don’t worry about it.”
She took a deep breath, then stretched her hands again.
“Now, let’s start again.”
Ah-yoon briefly rehearsed which notes she would press.
Her fingers half-pressed the keys when—
Suddenly.
Without warning.
Sua’s voice echoed in the space.
“…Sharp Sol?”
Ah-yoon’s fingers froze.
Everyone else stopped moving simultaneously.
“La, and Fa afterwards… But….”
“…?”
Ah-yoon looked at the girl before her.
It was not the vacant sharp eyes from before. Her eyebrows were tightened as she thought about something deeply.
“The last one. Was it Re?”
Subsequently,
The gem-like gaze turned towards Ah-yoon, as if asking for confirmation.
It was then that Ah-yoon returned to her senses. Recalling what had just happened, she began to understand what this girl was trying to indicate.
…She’s differentiating all the sounds overlapped in the slam?
No, that can’t be possible.
It’s impossible.
“….”
Ah-yoon’s gaze shifted to the spot where she had slipped.
Could it be she had correctly identified all the sounds?
