Just like seeing the shadows at dawn,
The crimson soundboard is filled with black streaks. Is it the transformation of a maple tree that has absorbed the years, or, as someone said,
It is the tears of countless violinists and the marks of melodies engraved by the devil.
The strings crossing the fingerboard glitter in silver as if they could come to life at any moment. The bow’s tip stirs the depths like a sharp blade.
Ah, how many people have longed to hear that melody until now.
“That’s right, it’s a fantasy.”
How could one not know?
An instrument that anyone interested in classical music would recognize, the legendary masterpiece created by Antonio Stradivari, known for its tragic fate.
The world was abuzz over the fantasy that vanished into a handful of ashes in its past life. A Chinese tycoon who owned the masterpiece once made an unbelievable claim that the fantasy self-ignited.
But seeing it in person made the tycoon’s words feel real. Step.
At that moment, Son Yooha walked towards the violin as if entranced. “Grandfather, what is this?”
Even a child would not see it as an ordinary violin. They probably couldn’t precisely judge what the instrument before them was.
Clearly silent, yet it seemed alive.
“It’s a gift that Grandfather prepared for Hyun.”
For me?
Only then did I remember the game of Go I had with Chairman Wang. To think that the gift was a Stradivari!
I still remembered the auction price of the fantasy. It made headlines worldwide as it set the highest price ever for an instrument and was sold to a Chinese tycoon.
“Hyun, do you dislike it?”
How could I dislike it?
Thump thump thump.
From the moment I saw the fantasy, my heart was racing madly.
-Be wary of the blonde devil.
Another story passed down through the gramophone.
A blonde beauty frowned as she entered the meeting place amidst an unexpected downpour. Adam Wyshaw, the editor of the gramophone, raised his hand upon seeing her.
“The weather is really a pain.”
Contrary to her glamorous appearance, the beauty spoke roughly and crossed her legs as she sat on the sofa. Her legs were so long that one might suspect she was a model.
Another chief editor of the gramophone, Sharon, skillfully placed a cigarette in her mouth.
Since it was a bar, many were smoking, but Sharon’s presence was distinctly noticeable among them.
“Adam, you went on a business trip, right?”
As puffy clouds reached the ceiling, Sharon leaned forward.
“While you were away, I dedicated myself to reforming the cocky newcomers. Most people think they’re exceptional critics when they join the gramophone. In reality, they can’t do anything alone, like newborns.”
“Sharon, as a chief editor, you don’t need to manage everyone. It’s always the same; you’re as finicky as London’s weather. That’s why everyone avoids you, isn’t it?”
“Oh, who’s worrying about whom now?”
Sharon didn’t dislike Adam, who was sitting across from her. He was the only one worth talking to at the gramophone. That aside.
“I heard a strange rumor; the London Symphony wrote a letter of recommendation.”
“Spencer did?”
Sharon nodded briefly in affirmation.
Spencer had made a remarkable reputation as the chief conductor of the London Symphony. Spencer himself represented the London Symphony.
But he had never taught anyone, let alone written a recommendation letter for a competition.
There were no new talents that met his standards, and his pride as a maestro was sky-high.
Yet he wrote a recommendation letter, where did such an unbelievable rumor come from?
“That’s not all; another maestro also wrote a recommendation letter for the same person the London Symphony did.”
Sharon’s blonde hair swayed significantly.
It was a story Adam couldn’t understand. Why would two maestros write a recommendation letter for the same person?
“Queen, whom you admire so much, wrote a recommendation letter.”
At that moment, Adam’s eyes widened. Sharon looked puzzled at Adam’s sudden change in demeanor, who rarely showed any emotional changes. Only the idle cigarette smoke wandered through the air.
“Who?”
What was he asking about?
“The person who received recommendation letters from both the London Symphony and Queen.”
“Isn’t that just a baseless rumor?”
Sharon couldn’t continue. Adam’s eyes were unusual.
She thought it was an unfounded rumor. The person who supposedly received the recommendation letters was an unfamiliar violinist she had never heard of.
Sharon deeply inhaled the cigarette smoke. It was a habit she had when contemplating, and soon, the smoke poured out like fog.
And then,
“Hyun.”
The blonde devil remembered the violinist’s name.
“Huh.”
Chairman Wang sighed in admiration. He hadn’t imagined that the violin would be rejected.
Even a layman who knew nothing about classical music could tell it was an extraordinary instrument. It was so captivating that just looking at it could enchant anyone, and one could hardly imagine how it felt for the person playing it.
“Old man, did you see Hyun’s eyes just now?”
Chairman Wang nodded at Chairman Yoo’s question. It was the first time he had seen such a burning gaze.
“Yet he declined it, even when I offered to give it to him completely. In the end, he only wanted to borrow it for the competition?”
It was hard to believe such self-restraint from a child. Getting so close to the violin only to pull back seemed almost pitiful.
Chairman Wang, who prided himself on his discerning eye, also admitted defeat. It said it all. For a moment, Chairman Wang grabbed Chairman Yoo’s hand firmly. But his gaze was unusual. “Ahem.”
Chairman Yoo coughed and pulled his hand away. After all, he wasn’t the one in a hurry.
Violin maestros were flocking to Brussels, Belgium. The reason these reclusive musicians, who usually only focused on music, gathered was simple.
For Queen Elizabeth.
The war of Hyun, returning after four years, was a day awaited by those hoping for the birth of new stars.
“Whew.”
Eva composed herself as she greeted the maestros. Each one of them was so renowned in the music world that they received VIP treatment from their respective countries. Hence, she had to be even more careful.
Each had a different personality, making them like unmixed paints thrown together. The commonality among them was their love-hate relationship with the violin.
“Is it true that both Queen and London pointed to the same person?”
The words of a Russian maestro froze the room. They knew who Queen and London were referring to. Some among them had experienced frustration from both Queen and London.
Just as the silence was continuing,
“Then let’s see that person first.”
A Chinese maestro, wearing a friendly smile, spoke up. Eva felt a suffocating pressure as she stood up.
The global preliminaries where countless violinists applied, with those who passed the initial selection having their performance videos sent to the judges. Playing the violin in Brussels was a testament to the high barriers in place.
Sizzle.
After a brief silence, a video was projected on a large screen. When they first heard that Queen and London had simultaneously sent recommendation letters to one person, everyone thought it was just a rumor.
But now, with it proven to be true, the maestros’ focus was on no other newcomer.
Would the season of the violin return?
At that moment,
“Who on earth…”
Someone let out a puzzled sigh. At first glance, it didn’t look like a concert hall. It was probably a hotel banquet hall. But the child on stage was too young.
Could such a young child have captivated both Queen and London? It didn’t make sense. Just as the maestros were doubting their eyes, the child finally raised the bow.
‘Ah, I should have just accepted it.’
For the past few days, I’ve felt as if I were on a roller coaster, my mind in a tumult. It was because the image of the fantasy kept lingering in my head. Why didn’t I just take it when it was offered?
‘Because it was Chairman Wang!’
Knowing the price of a Stradivari made me hesitate even more. Especially since the fantasy was a piece that later achieved the highest price for an instrument at Sotheby’s.
Chairman Wang wouldn’t give me such an item without a reason.
As a scholarship student of Daeil Group in my previous life, I had closely observed the workings of a conglomerate family.
No way.
For a moment, I thought of someone but quickly dismissed it. I had resolved to welcome any woman who came and not stop any who left, but she was still too young to be considered a woman. Yes, definitely not.
“Hyun, what are you thinking so deeply about?”
I looked up at my grandfather’s voice.
“You said you’d treat me to something delicious today, so I’m looking forward to it.”
I erased my expression and gave a meaningless smile. Just then, the car driven by Mr. Kim, the chauffeur, arrived at the Shilla Hotel. It was a restaurant I had visited several times in my past life. But I walked in following my grandfather as if it were my first time. Still thinking about the fantasy.
By the way,
‘Are those people models?’
A middle-aged Caucasian couple, both of them were so tall they could outshine any model.
“Adam, how do you plan to find him in this vast Korea?”
The chief editor of the gramophone, Sharon, fluttered her blonde hair as if complaining.
They had come to Korea knowing only the violinist’s name. But there was no way to identify who “Hyun” referred to.
Adam was simply enjoying his meal with a mysterious smile.
“Adam, how can you eat soup right now? You’re such an impractical person!”
If any of the staff at the gramophone saw this, they would have gasped. Two of the three devils known in the gramophone were sitting face to face, having a meal.
The louder Sharon’s voice grew, the more attention they drew. But people seemed more captivated by their glamorous appearances than their conversation.
“Of all places, you chose a non-smoking venue. Honestly, Adam, I don’t like you. Coming here for an interview, I might end up quitting smoking, which I didn’t plan.”
“So, Sharon, who asked you to follow?”
A notorious smoker, Sharon frowned as she couldn’t smoke. What good was a delicious dinner without a cigarette?
At that moment, Sharon’s eyes met those of a boy across from her. Soon, Sharon’s blue eyes focused on the boy’s mouth movements.
Be quiet, lady.
