CHAPTER 08
The desk was covered in a chaotic pile of sheet music.
Dozens of empty coffee cups were stacked in a corner, and messy Post-it notes were stuck everywhere.
In the middle of it all sat a man scratching his head.
A wrinkled shirt, worn-out jeans, and messy hair gave away his temperament.
Jeong Tae-sung, a full-time professor in the Composition Department at Hankuk University.
He scratched his head with a pen, then resumed filling in the blank staff paper.
He hummed softly to himself, writing and erasing repeatedly.
â Rest one beat. No, two beats. No, three beats, then one-twoâŚ!
âHello?â
His phone rang loudly. He picked it up and wedged it between his ear and shoulder, tilting his head awkwardly as he continued writing with one hand.
âOh my, Director Jung! What brings you to call this old man?â
Despite his playful tone, the voice on the other end was steady.
â Itâs been a while, Professor Jeong Tae-sung.
âExactly. Itâs so hard to hear your voice these days. Must be very busy, huh?â
â Yes.
âSo what could someone as busy as you need?â
Still chatting nonstop, Jeong Tae-sung spun his chair toward the piano.
He pressed a few keys, then spun back to the sheet music.
â Iâm looking for someone. Among the composition students at Hankuk University.
âA composition student?â
Jeong Tae-sungâs eyes widened with interest.
âWait, did you finally find a clue?!â
He jumped up from his seat and shouted into the phone. On the other end, Jung Do-hyun sighed softly.
â Itâs not that.
âWhat do you mean not that? I saw with my own eyes how youâve been obsessing over finding that nameless composer since you were youngââ
â Uncle.
At Jung Do-hyunâs low voice, Jeong Tae-sung quickly backed down.
âAhem. Fine. So not that. Then who are you looking for?â
â I donât know.
âWhat nonsense is that?â
â I donât know their name, age, or student ID.
âWhat?â
Jeong Tae-sung raised his voice in disbelief.
âExplain properly! I have no idea what youâre talking about!â
Under pressure, Jung Do-hyun explained how he had found a USB.
Jeong Tae-sung nodded repeatedly.
âOh? A USB? Thatâs unlike you.â
â It was a mistake.
âYou brat. When I tell you to meet the students, you refuse, but behind the scenes you pull something like this? Returning a USB you found? Thatâs pretty romantic for you.â
â Itâs not like that.
âTsk. Always so stiff. Anyway, if my nephew is this eager, of course Iâll help. Any other details?â
Despite his personality, Jeong Tae-sung was a dedicated professor.
With a few clues, narrowing down candidates wouldnât be difficult.
â âŚTheyâre good at composing.
âHuh?â
Out of nowhere, composition skills?
â There was a song on the USB.
âWhat?â
â They handle harmony well, and build technique on top of solid fundamentals. The level of completion was hard to believe for a student.
âHold on!â
Jeong Tae-sung cut him off.
âThereâs someone good enough to satisfy your ears? Among my students?â
He had known Jung Do-hyun since childhood and understood how picky he was.
Especially about music.
If an amateur composition sounded sloppy, Jung Do-hyun didnât even bother hiding his displeasure.
When scholarship students performed, he sometimes sat for one minute and left.
âAnd thereâs no one like thatâŚâ
Jeong Tae-sung thought carefully.
There were students with good instincts or strong skills for their age.
But no one who would meet Jung Do-hyunâs standards.
â Are you certain?
âIâm telling you. If someone like that existed, do you think Iâd leave them alone?â
He would have taken them under his wing immediately.
Jung Do-hyun fell silent at that.
If anyone had found such a gem, this talkative professor would have bragged about it endlessly.
âAre you sure theyâre from our department?â
â I found it near the College of Music building. The fundamentals were strong, so I assumed they were a major.
âCould be from another department.â
Jeong Tae-sung closed his eyes briefly, then answered clearly.
âThen I canât find them.â
â âŚ
âSeriously. The music college is huge. If it were within composition, maybe. But otherwise?â
â âŚIâll hang up.
Click.
âHey! Donât just hang up so coldlyâ huh. He really hung up?â
Jeong Tae-sung stared at his phone and let out a hollow laugh.
âTsk.â
He put the phone down. The half-finished staff paper caught his eye.
âAh! I almost had a good idea! Now I forgot it all!â
He grabbed his hair in frustration, though it wouldnât bring the inspiration back.
âStill⌠a student like that in another department?â
If Jung Do-hyun was praising their fundamentals, this wasnât just a hobbyist.
âOh right. The transfer exam is coming up.â
Jeong Tae-sung noticed the red circle on his calendar and clapped his hands.
âA transfer applicant.â
That made sense. Students from other majors often switched into composition midway.
Jeong Tae-sung grinned.
âThis should be interesting.â
***
I exhaled, and white breath formed in the air.
In front of the Arts building, students crowded the area. Some clutched sheet music, others tuned their instruments.
Soft murmurs and practice sounds filled the space.
âSo noisy.â
I still wasnât used to the worldâs sounds. In crowded places like this, my head always throbbed slightly.
I stood in a quiet corner.
Among the tense faces around me, I looked almost relaxed.
âSeol!â
Someone called my name. I turned and saw Hyunji.
The study group members stood beside her. She waved enthusiastically.
âWhat a coincidence! Did you prepare well?â
âJust⌠okay.â
When I answered casually, Soyeon smirked.
âWhy just okay? You should say you prepared well. After all, you said you didnât need the study group.â
âUnnie, donâtâŚâ
Hyunji looked nervous, but Soyeon snorted.
âDid I say something wrong? You think you can take the exam lightly just because you have some arranging sense.â
Had I said that?
I tilted my head.
âWhy are you like this? Are you picking a fight with someone younger?â
Dayeon tried to calm her.
Soyeon turned away and walked off first.
Hyunji hesitated, then spoke.
âAre you okay? Sorry. Sheâs just stressed about the exam.â
âYou donât need to apologize. I donât mind.â
Honestly, I didnât care. If she had kept talking loudly, it might have annoyed me.
âLetâs go in. Itâs about to start.â
Hyunji grabbed my hand and led me inside.
I entered the assigned classroom and took my seat. The desks filled up quickly.
Soon, the door opened.
A man in a black shirt with wildly messy hair walked in, looking like he had just woken up.
âYaaawn~.â
He even yawned loudly, lacking any professor-like dignity.
âAlright, everyone sit.â
Despite his lazy tone, the room quieted instantly.
âAs you know, the first test is ear training~.â
He gave brief instructions.
They would play music, and we had to notate it.
Simple.
âFinally.â
I tapped the desk lightly with my fingers.
Nervous? Not at all.
If anything, I just wanted it over quickly.
Unlike me, the other students looked tense. I could see the hands of the person in front trembling.
Meanwhile, I leaned back in my chair, inhaled slowly, and lifted the corner of my lips.
âNow⌠itâs time to show them.â






