CHAPTER 09
♪♩♬♪♬
A short melody played through the speakers.
The students sharpened their focus and desperately began writing notes onto their sheets.
Scratch, scratch—the sound of pens scraping against paper filled the room.
The rhythm shifted unpredictably, sometimes entering slightly off the beat.
It was a high-difficulty ear training question, and everyone looked troubled.
‘Ah. They missed one harmony there. Oh, that was close. Should’ve raised it by a half step.’
Watching the students’ answer sheets, Professor Jeong Tae-sung muttered inwardly.
The test gradually became more difficult.
Now two voices overlapped at once. The right-hand melody and the left-hand harmony of the piano had to be captured simultaneously.
Even professional performers would struggle to catch such intertwined harmonies in one go.
‘Oh?’
Someone caught Jeong Tae-sung’s attention.
While everyone else had their eyes tightly shut, struggling to solve the problem, one student remained calm.
The others bent over their staves, moving their hands frantically, desperate not to miss a single note.
But this one student looked oddly different.
‘Did they give up?’
That was what it looked like at first.
Because it almost seemed as if they were casually doodling.
Jeong Tae-sung quietly walked toward the student and checked the examinee number and name written on the desk.
‘Piano Department, Yoon Seol.’
An unfamiliar name.
Even if from another department, promising talents usually gained some reputation early.
He had never heard this name before.
Which meant she was just one among many average students.
‘Maybe she’s just applying to transfer for fun.’
That would explain her relaxed attitude.
Trying not to draw attention, Jeong Tae-sung glanced at her paper.
‘…!’
His eyes widened.
The score was complete.
Pitch, rhythm, harmony—everything was correct.
It looked as if someone had replaced her answer sheet with the official answer key.
‘Perfect pitch.’
To finish that quickly, she had to possess at least that level of ability.
Of course, perfect pitch wasn’t rare in an arts college.
‘But even with perfect pitch, most people slip up on rhythm or harmony…’
Had she trained tens of thousands of times to polish her skills?
But she looked too young for that.
‘Was she born with it?’
Jeong Tae-sung couldn’t help but grin.
His gaze lingered on the name ‘Yoon Seol.’
***
“I’m screwed. I think I failed.”
“Hey, everyone’s screwed. Don’t worry. The difficulty was insane this time.”
“Right? It wasn’t just me?”
“The ear training was ridiculous.”
Murmurs filled the waiting area.
Some students complained miserably, others tried to steady their nerves.
Sight-singing, ear training, harmony, and arrangement exams were all over.
Only the final part remained: presenting their original compositions.
Each student was called in one by one to perform, and the waiting time had already passed two hours.
‘Boring.’
I sat quietly, thinking to myself.
‘Was it really that hard? I didn’t think so.’
The exams had gone more smoothly than expected. At least, in my opinion.
Sight-singing was just reading and singing a sheet. There were slight rhythm variations, but nothing major.
Ear training was simply writing what you heard.
Harmony was basic theory everyone should know.
The arrangement test was probably the trickiest, but the four-bar melody was simple enough to manipulate.
‘This should be fine.’
I didn’t want to stand out unnecessarily, so I finished at an appropriate level.
I had already secured enough points in the other sections. Failing the transfer wouldn’t happen.
‘Now the question is which original piece to perform.’
There were dozens of songs in my head.
If I played , passing would be guaranteed.
But maybe something slightly more moderate would leave a better impression.
As I was lost in thought, the supervisor entered the waiting room and called out loudly.
“Group 9, please come in!”
That was my group.
The students beside me inhaled sharply and stood up.
They all looked visibly tense.
I rose slowly and took my place at the back of the line according to my number.
“This way!”
We followed the supervisor inside.
It looked like a small recital hall.
The professors sat in the front row, busy scribbling scores for the previous group.
The first student of Group 9 walked nervously onto the stage.
“Begin.”
At one professor’s words, the student sat at the piano.
♪♩♬♪……
A gentle melody flowed from their fingers.
‘Not bad.’
But not particularly good either.
It was safe, without flaws—but also without anything memorable.
The professors nodded briefly, then their expressions turned indifferent.
“Stop.”
One professor cut the performance short.
She had long hair tightly tied back and wore thin gold-rimmed glasses. Her sharp expression was unforgettable.
‘I remember her. The professor Moon Arin always seemed uncomfortable around.’
Her name was…
“Professor Baek Gahee. Maybe we should listen a bit more before deciding—”
Right. Baek Gahee. I remembered because the name was unique.
Another professor whispered to her, but she replied coldly.
“It’s a waste of time.”
A merciless evaluation.
The first student spoke carefully.
“I still have more in the second half. If you could listen until then—”
“Next.”
At her firm dismissal, the student returned to their seat with slumped shoulders.
The next student stepped up, clearly shaken by what had just happened.
Their hands trembled visibly as they pressed the keys.
♩♬, ♪♪♩♬……
“Stop.”
Only a few measures in, Baek Gahee cut them off again.
The student’s face turned pale.
“You made a mistake.”
“…Yes.”
“Step down. Next.”
The atmosphere grew unbearably cold.
In heavy silence, the third and fourth students followed.
Not a single person finished their full piece.
The third student’s work wasn’t bad, so they were allowed to play a little longer, but the moment something grated on the ear, it was stopped.
“Next!”
Finally, it was my turn.
I passed the fourth student, who was descending the stage with a defeated expression.
The stage lights were so bright I could barely see the audience.
I bowed politely toward where I assumed the professors were seated, then sat at the piano.
The sight of black and white keys alone made my heart flutter.
This wasn’t a keyboard or an old practice-room piano.
It was a proper instrument.
The moment my fingers touched the keys, I knew.
‘…This is good.’
How long had it been since I felt this?
My heart lifted slightly.
I wanted to play.
And not just play—play beautifully.
Not for evaluation. Not to pass.
But because standing before a fine instrument made me want to show it respect.
For a moment, I forgot this was an exam hall.
I forgot the professors’ attitude that seemed to say, Let’s see if you can impress us.
♪—
I lightly pressed a key.
A clear resonance filled the air.
It felt so welcoming that I smiled without realizing it.
I took a breath and placed both hands on the keys.
♩♬♪♬♪
A beautiful melody began to unfold.
