For The Musical Genius (Novel) - Chapter 80

Chapter 80

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Gulp—!

At that moment, a scene from ‘The Truman Show’ came to mind.

It felt like everyone was watching me. Of course, there was a difference. While Truman’s life was a scripted movie, this was real life. Dr. Tikhonov, sitting next to me, looked visibly surprised. He probably never imagined that I was such a renowned violinist. It wasn’t as if pressing a pause button would end the situation. Instead, the tension only grew hotter, as if I were standing naked in the middle of Africa.

“Violinist Hyun, would you please come up here?”

It seemed like the maestro was adding the final touch. He pointed to the VIP seats on the stage, where the previously announced guests were seated. As soon as he finished speaking, a new seat magically appeared. The maestro seemed to be enjoying this situation. Could it be revenge for what happened at the Brussels airport?

“Excuse me.”

This must have been how Moses felt when he parted the Red Sea. Even in my past life, when I was preparing to become a member of the National Assembly, I had never received this much attention. Andrey and Karelia, Russia’s next-generation maestros, looked at me with curiosity, while the eternal maestro Gustav greeted me like a kind grandfather.

“It’s been two years, hasn’t it, Hyun?”

“Yes, Maestro.”

“You’ve grown even more since then. Hoho.”

I bowed politely to them and was about to take my seat when I suddenly saw Alexei’s face. Oh no, the mischievous maestro was twitching his cheek incessantly. This was definitely revenge!

“Next, we have a speech from our distinguished guest who has come from afar.”

What?

As soon as the maestro finished speaking, Andrey stood up. The speech had begun. Since my attendance wasn’t planned, I thought I could quietly slip away. But after the eternal maestro Gustav’s lengthy speech, the maestro grabbed the microphone and looked straight at me.

“Violinist Hyun?”

I have no idea how this happened.

Just this morning, I thought I was only here to fill a seat at the department head inauguration ceremony. But when I came to my senses, I was standing on the stage, looking out at the numerous attendees. I could see my father, Dr. Tikhonov, and even the brown-haired young man standing at the entrance. My friends were lined up, and among them were students I had taught. Everyone looked shocked. Well, I was shocked too. The maestro even adjusted the microphone to my height with his mischievous hands.

What should I say?

But as I stood in front of the microphone, my nervousness vanished as if it were a lie. After all, I had always been prepared for speeches. In my past life, I had toured various campaign sites while preparing to run for the National Assembly. I smiled, wishing endless glory for the future of the Moscow Conservatory.

“I am Hyun.”

Everyone was surprised by my first words. Fluent Russian flowed from the mouth of this young Asian boy.

*

“How could such a coincidence—!”

Anton’s face turned as red as a boiling kettle. Alexei almost burst out laughing at his usually composed friend’s excitement. It was an unbelievable coincidence.

“I can’t believe the kid you met on the plane was that friend.”

The kid who had a heated debate with the head of the Moscow Conservatory about Schubert’s *Wanderer Fantasy* was none other than violinist Hyun. At that moment, a teacup with floating petals was lifted. Gustav, savoring the flavor of the black tea, looked intrigued. After all, the stories he was hearing were anything but ordinary.

“Maestro, does it suit your taste?”

Alexei’s posture was as respectful as a student’s. “It’s fine, let’s chat comfortably. I also enjoy hearing about that kid. If Yuri were here, she would have pricked up her ears just like me.”

Andrey and Karelia couldn’t even interject in the conversation between the maestros. Just being seated here was an honor. The maestros before them were living legends. But the stories they were hearing were full of mysteries. Moreover, the Yuri that the eternal maestro had just mentioned was none other than the lion of the Berlin Philharmonic. As the maestros’ conversation continued, they were left dumbfounded.

“Alexei, it was too much to suddenly ask him to give a speech like that. He must have been so flustered without any preparation. He didn’t even know I was the department head, let alone that you were the dean.”

“Hmph. Do you really think that arrogant—no, Hyun—would be that surprised? Didn’t you see him? Standing confidently in front of the microphone, scanning the audience. And his speech? When did his Russian become so fluent? He could probably write a book in Cyrillic. That friend has always had a knack for surprising people, even two years ago. He hasn’t lost his touch.”

Gustav, who had been quietly listening to their conversation, also nodded silently. It was hard to believe that the speech was unprepared. He looked more like a seasoned politician who had given countless speeches. Just then.

Knock knock.

Finally, the person they had been waiting for entered.

“Hello, Maestro. I was so flustered earlier that I couldn’t properly greet you. It’s an honor to meet you again like this.”

Hyun greeted Gustav first, then Alexei and Anton with respect. He also gave a brief nod to Andrey and Karelia, showing no signs of nervousness. He acted as if he had been in such situations countless times. It was hard to believe he was just a young boy.

“Hyun, how much longer do you plan to stay in Moscow?”

“I’ll probably have to return to Korea next week.”

“So soon?”

“Yes, I’ve already achieved the purpose of this trip.”

Alexei’s deep-set eyes showed concern. He cautiously broached the subject while watching Hyun sip orange juice.

“Do you know that I gave you an unusually high score in Brussels?”

“Yes, I know. The judges’ scores were released right after the competition.”

It was surprising. Given how Alexei usually treated Hyun, it wouldn’t have been strange if he had given him the lowest score. But in reality, Alexei had consistently given Hyun the highest scores. It was a sign that he fully recognized him as a musician.

“Well, that’s good. There’s something I’d like to ask of you.”

“Yes?”

Alexei’s raised eyebrows twitched with delight.

* * *

Early in the morning, Dr. Tikhonov didn’t look well. After the inauguration ceremony, we had parted ways early because of the meeting with the maestros, so I had no way of knowing why. Of course, Dr. Tikhonov had offered to wait, but I had insisted it was fine. Riding his beloved car once was enough. Could he have found out about that? But what came out of his mouth was completely unexpected.

“Hyun, even though I said you resembled a homunculus, I never imagined you could be so different. How could you hide the fact that you’re a famous violinist who won first prize at an international competition?”

Because you never asked.

The doctor’s expression looked like that of a jilted lover. If I had known this would happen, I would have gone to the chemistry research institute with my father to stamp my attendance.

“When I first saw you, I felt an incredible chemical reaction. It was as if fireworks were exploding in multiple directions inside my body. Like a fanfare. Even Sobrero, who first synthesized nitroglycerin, wouldn’t have been this surprised. I thought I had finally found a worthy successor to take my place…!”

He was drinking the broth before the rice was even served. Dr. Tikhonov exaggeratedly wiped his face with his hand. It looked like a scene from a musical. This chatty doctor seemed more suited to being a comedian than a scientist. If he acted, he would surely win an Oscar.

“By the way, you’re returning to Korea next week?”

“Yes, Doctor. It’s time to go back.”

Dr. Tikhonov sometimes treated me more comfortably than my own father, as if he thought our conversational styles matched regardless of age. My father, as the head of this meeting, was more reserved, as this was a business meeting to scout the entire chemistry research institute. Even if my father liked him, the final decision would ultimately rest with my grandfather. Just then.

“Hyun, it’s not too late. Your forward-thinking mindset and brilliant intellect are too precious to be wasted solely on an artistic life. Shouldn’t you make a significant contribution to humanity?”

The chatty doctor suddenly grabbed my hand, his eyes lighting up as if he had come up with a brilliant idea.

“How about being a chemist who plays music?”

* “Hey kid, are you a student at the Tchaikovsky Conservatory?”

I had hailed an old Russian taxi to fulfill the maestro’s request, and what a coincidence. It felt like this had become my personal taxi. The bearded driver seemed more curious about my identity than haggling over the fare. Since I always asked to go to the Moscow Conservatory, it made sense.

“I’m not a student, I’m a violinist.”

“Really? Invite me to your concert next time, I’ll bring my whole family. Don’t feel too down being a lone Asian in a foreign land! Though, judging by how you haggle over taxi fares, you don’t seem like the type to get discouraged. Well, we’re here.”

He sure knew how to do business. Without realizing it, I handed him an extra 50 rubles. We passed the Tchaikovsky statue and entered an antique building. The elegant architecture always reminded me of how much effort Tchaikovsky, the first director, had put into the Moscow Conservatory. I had arrived a bit early, so the maestro wasn’t there yet.

“Days in Brussels, quite a grand title.”

But the posters were already up on the building walls. A lecture by the youngest winner of the Queen Elisabeth Competition—it was more like a reading of a memoir. Brussels was a dream stage for any violinist. The mischievous maestro had insisted so much that I couldn’t refuse. It was a bit awkward, but I had given lectures to law school juniors in my past life, so I wasn’t too worried.

“Room B-202.”

I headed to the lecture room. The building had signs everywhere, so I didn’t get lost. But why was there not a single soul in this vast conservatory?

“Huh?”

When I arrived at the lecture room, it was eerily empty. Was I too early? But not a single person? I suddenly felt a bitter taste in my mouth. If I had known, I would have had lunch at the hotel before coming.

Just then,

“Violinist Hyun?”

A security guard entered the lecture room. He looked at me with rabbit-like eyes, his name tag reading “Haman” in Cyrillic.

“The lecture room has been changed.”

“Changed?”

“Yes, this place was far too small.”

What was he talking about? The room looked like it could easily accommodate a hundred people. Swallowing my confusion, I followed Haman. But where were we headed?

‘The concert hall?’

As the large doors opened, countless eyes turned toward me. Even the portraits of famous musicians on the walls seemed to be looking at me. I was dumbfounded. Everyone had arrived early, and the concert hall was packed with students, leaving no empty seats. I had thought only violin majors would attend, but I was wrong.

‘He’s really a ghost!’ ‘The rumors were true!’

Strange whispers reached my ears. The students had apparently been waiting for me for a long time. Following Haman’s guidance, I stepped onto the stage and scanned the audience. I even saw Anna in the front row. It seemed excessive for them to gather just to hear my Brussels memoir. But they had come for me. I couldn’t delay any longer. As I approached the microphone, the room fell silent.

“Hello. I’m not sure why so many of you have come to this lecture. I see not only violin majors but also piano and even cello students. I’ll do my best to make this time worthwhile. Let me formally introduce myself. I am a violinist studying music with all of you.”

A voice filled with undeniable power echoed through the hall. She must have sensed it.

“I am Hyun.”

The magic of Brussels was about to begin again.