For The Musical Genius (Novel) - Chapter 89
Chapter 89
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Discord
“Huh?”
Yoo-ha flinched as she opened her locker—letters and chocolates cascaded out. Love letters were routine, and the chocolates were likely pre-exam gifts. While she appreciated the gesture, the sheer volume was overwhelming. Cleaning up was always a chore.
“Yoo-ha—!”
A Black girl rushed over, panting.
“What? When did you get all this?”
She shook her head in disbelief. Yoo-ha’s popularity seemed to skyrocket daily—so much so that students from other schools often came to confess. But that wasn’t the pressing issue.
“How did it go?”
Her bright eyes sparkled with curiosity. With exams looming, Yoo-ha had skipped a week in Korea for a “special performance.” But her giddy expression betrayed the real reason: she’d met someone special.
“You went to an amusement park together?”
“Yeah.”
“I knew it—!”
The girl clenched her fists triumphantly. She’d coached Yoo-ha on her foolproof dating strategy: thrill rides accelerate heart rates, making the person beside you seem more attractive. For Phillips Academy’s queen bee, success was inevitable.
“So you’re officially dating now?”
“No.”
“What?!”
Had she missed her chance? Yet Yoo-ha’s flushed cheeks glowed with happiness. She clung to her wallet as if it held a treasure—and the girl burned with curiosity. Who could’ve melted the Ice Rose? Surely someone with sharper features than Tom Cruise and longer legs than a supermodel.
—
“A tiny kid… So why does he feel so intimidating?”
A gulp.
Alessandro’s Adam’s apple bobbed. When the first string snapped, a prop assistant jumped up to fetch another violin—but Jean-Pierre stopped him. Alessandro understood why.
He broke it on purpose.
As a former violinist, he recognized the deliberate pressure applied to snap the string. Yet even frayed, cutting a metal E-string wasn’t easy. This was no beginner’s move. Then—
Zing—!
The A-string followed, its sharp cry piercing the air. Actress Martina lowered her script, riveted. One by one, the strings broke in descending order—a calculated spectacle. Sweat pooled in Alessandro’s palms.
—
Hyun recalled Baiya Breaking the Strings—the ancient musician who severed his zither’s strings after his soulmate’s death. Like Baiya, he had no regrets. These strings were too worn for proper sound anyway. But while Baiya acted from despair, Hyun aimed to convince.
As the bow met the last remaining string—
…!
A rich melody erupted, stunning the room. Like Bach’s Air on the G String, Hyun’s choice was deliberate: the lowest string could produce the most hypnotic glissandos. The bow sawed fiercely—any lapse in tension would send it flying.
The Queen’s Portamento.
Baek Jung-hoon had once asked if he’d composed anything for Maestro Hirose. At the time, The Queen’s Portamento was unfinished—a piece inspired by the “Violin Queen” who’d mesmerized him with Air on the G String. It demanded the illusion of four strings singing through one.
The audience gaped. The G-string wept mournful phrases one moment, then dazzled with virtuosic runs the next. His fingers flew faster than ever, vibrato blurring into waves of bow strokes. The Romantic-era set seemed to breathe with the music.
Hyun’s arm trembled, but he couldn’t stop—the battered violin was alive, crying out in joy. Like a crimson rose, the melody was beautiful yet untouchable. As the final note approached, the bow slashed like a blade—
Zing—!
The last string snapped.
—
“Director, what is that child?”
Martina clutched her chest, still breathless. She’d assumed Jean-Pierre was being stubborn—how could this kid handle Paganini? Yet from the first note, the air had shifted.
“My heart felt like it was pounding.”
A Hollywood veteran, Martina hadn’t trembled like this since her debut. As each string broke, her pulse raced—and when the solo G-string aria began, time seemed to freeze. The legends of Paganini no longer felt exaggerated.
Jean-Pierre marveled at the transformed set. Just yesterday, doubts had festered—even investors questioned casting an unknown Asian prodigy. But Hyun had done what Paganini once did: stolen ears and hearts in a single performance.
“Alessandro?”
The actor stared at his hands. No matter how he replayed Hyun’s performance, his ruined fingers could never match it. The bet’s outcome was clear—even Martina, who’d never cared for classical music, was begging her manager for Hyun’s concert footage.
“I underestimated him.”
“We all did.”
Pride and shame warred in Alessandro. Could he ever replicate that genius? He sprang up.
“Where is he now?”
—
“Hyun, isn’t this spaghetti amazing?”
Dinner in a Roman alleyway featured fettuccine alfredo, lasagna, and Neapolitan pizza—a feast fit for kings, though Director Im Hye-ra was just as happy with instant noodles. Beneath her designer clothes, she remained unpretentious.
“You have to try lasagna in Italy! This is the spot I found in my twenties—still perfect after twenty years. I came here often with Il-seon.”
Hyun nearly choked. Few called Chairman Son Il-seon so affectionately. Director Im’s excitement suggested this wasn’t a chaperone trip—it was a vacation.
“You showed them earlier, huh?”
“Just a performance for the hardworking cast and crew.”
“I never imagined you’d take the stage like that—let alone snap strings mid-performance! Now I see why Jean-Pierre fought for you. No need for modesty—that was bold.”
She’d noticed the tension on set but hadn’t expected Hyun to shatter it so dramatically. Alessandro’s dazed stare still lingered in his mind.
“Where to next?”
“Piazza del Popolo, of course!”
Rome’s “Eternal City” charm had her giddy—they’d likely toss coins in Trevi Fountain and visit Goethe’s old haunts.
“Director, can I rest at the hotel instead?”
“Hyun, stop calling me ‘Director’! Yoo-ha will scold me.”
She grinned as Hyun flexed his sore wrist—the aftermath of channeling Paganini’s fury.
“Tonight’s finale is the auction house.”
“Auction?”
“Want to come? It’ll be fun.”
Hyun suppressed a sigh. European art auctions—exclusive, pretentious, and filled with pieces priced like small fortunes. But then—
“They say a Guarneri is up for bidding.”
His thoughts derailed. One of the holy grails of violins.
—
End of Episode 89