No More Thug Life, I’m Playing Music

Chapter 59: Student Music Festival (4)

“Seriously? Baekjung’s manager is a gangster?”
“I’m telling you, he’s supposed to be a hardcore thug,” Im Hajoon remarked as he took his seat in the audience.

Beside him sat the concertmaster of FunFun Chamber, with whom he’d performed earlier.

“Wow, that’s crazy…”
“Why does it feel like there are more people here than when I played?”
“They’re probably trying to get noticed by Han Gwangsook after the performance.”
“Ugh, Korea is still all about her, huh?”
“Pretty much.”
“Well, she owns this place. Gotta kiss up.”

Im Hajoon glanced around the concert hall. Hanshin Concert Hall, designed exclusively for classical music, was an unparalleled venue in the country.

The vineyard-style seating surrounded the central stage, providing equal acoustics no matter where one sat and facilitating smooth interaction with the performers. The hall, designed by a world-renowned concert hall architect, optimized every aspect of the performance experience, from sound absorption to lighting.

“Can’t sit over there?” Im Hajoon pointed to the seats opposite the stage, where the audience would face the conductor’s front while looking at the orchestra’s back. Those seats were noticeably fewer compared to other sections.

“They’re not using them today, apparently.”
“Really? Not even when I performed?”
“Nope.”

Those seats were rarely used for two reasons: they were connected to the stage by stairs, and a pipe organ was installed on the wall behind them.

“Why? Are they doing a choir or something?”
“Probably not.”
“Then they should open them up. The place is already packed.”

Im Hajoon clicked his tongue and leaned back in his seat.

“So, what’s Baekjung playing?”
“Saint-Saëns.”
“Piano Concerto No. 2?”
“Uh… I think it was No. 3 when I overheard earlier.”
“What? That’s random. Is that all?”
“They said there’d be a vocal piece too.”
“Then it’ll be over quickly.”

Im Hajoon yawned and rubbed his eyes.
“Let’s just greet Professor Han afterward and grab a drink.”
“Sure, hyung.”

As time passed, the empty seats gradually filled. Soon, all the house lights dimmed, leaving only the stage illuminated.

Clap, clap, clap—

The chamber group walked out from the waiting room to applause from the audience. There were roughly seventy of them, far more than usual for a chamber ensemble. Each member quickly and precisely took their seat.

“Wow, why are there so many?”
“Exactly. This isn’t a chamber group; it’s an orchestra.”
“They must’ve brought in every decent musician from Korea University. Isn’t that kind of cheating, even for an invited performance?”

Im Hajoon grumbled, concerned about how his earlier performance might compare. A larger group naturally had greater sonic dominance.

“And what happened to the ‘No Redemption’ kids? Didn’t Baekjung say he’d bring them?”
“‘No Redemption’? What’s that?”
“Oh, it’s Baekjung’s YouTube channel.”
“Wait, you subscribed to BaekjungTV, hyung?”
“No,” Im Hajoon coughed awkwardly and refocused on the stage.

“Shut up and watch. It’s starting.”

Right on cue, Yoon Seol, the conductor, stepped onto the stage with a blank expression. She reached the center, gestured to the musicians, and they all stood. She bowed on behalf of the group to the audience.

“Wait… where’s Baekjung?” Im Hajoon squinted toward the piano next to the conductor.

Instead of Jung Seojoon, a long-haired woman sat there. She wasn’t wearing a concert dress typical for soloists but the same black suit as the ensemble members.

“A page-turner?”
“Hold on… that’s Yoo Ahra.”
“Who’s that?”
“A pianist from Korea University. She’s pretty good.”
“So what happened to Baekjung?”

The question was answered the moment the conductor’s baton swept an arc through the air.

[——]
[——]

A dark, somber string melody resonated softly, faintly melancholic. It was soon joined by a delicate woodwind theme, rising gradually with the pizzicato of the contrabasses.

“This… isn’t a piano concerto, is it?” Im Hajoon murmured under his breath.
“Uh, yeah… seems like it.”

His companion picked up a fallen program from the floor and flipped to the last page to check the title.

“Hyung… it’s Symphony No. 3, not a concerto.”
“Idiot… How do you mix that up?”
“Sorry… I just heard it secondhand…”

Im Hajoon frowned and turned his gaze back to the stage.

Introducing the performance as “One Chamber with Baekjung” only to play a symphony instead of a concerto?

A concerto is a composition for a solo instrument accompanied by an orchestra. A symphony, on the other hand, is a large-scale orchestral work designed for harmonious ensemble playing.

In other words, the main focus of this performance was the orchestra, not Baekjung.

“Ugh… This is disappointing…”

Im Hajoon shook off his idle thoughts and refocused on the stage. Whatever the case, Saint-Saëns’ Symphony No. 3 was a masterpiece among masterpieces. And with Han Gwangsook’s notoriously exacting ensemble performing, expectations were high.

[—–!]
[—–!]

Under Yoon Seol’s baton, the orchestra’s melody surged with grandeur. The slow introduction had disappeared, giving way to a rapid and dynamic flow.

“This piece had a nickname… What was it again?” Hajoon tried to recall.

Symphony No. 3 by Saint-Saëns.
This was the final symphony composed by Camille Saint-Saëns, famous for works like Danse Macabre and The Carnival of the Animals. It was a piece he crafted at the height of his artistic prowess, and he held it dear. After its debut, Saint-Saëns himself admitted that he had given everything he had and could never create such a work again.

[Ba-bam! Ba-ba-bam!]
As the first movement reached its midpoint, the majestic melody of the brass section filled the hall. The theme, inspired by Dies Irae, a hymn for the dead, proclaimed judgment with its powerful harmonies.

[Bang! Bang-bang!]
The timpani roared like thunder, overwhelming the audience with its colossal presence, stripping away the religious reverence and revealing the sheer immensity of the music.

“Whew…” Hajoon nodded in awe. Baekjung’s absence didn’t matter; the performance was extraordinary.

[——!]
[——!]

The music climbed toward its climax, pulling the audience along as various instruments amplified the tension. Strings carried the melody, woodwinds softened it, and brass instruments blasted it out boldly. The orchestra left no gaps, immersing the audience completely.

[Dada-da-da!]
[Bam-bam-ba-ba!]
[Bang! Bang!]

Amidst it all, the piano’s delicate sound rippled like beads rolling on marble, not as a solo instrument but seamlessly integrated with the orchestra, adding depth to the harmony.

“Baekjung could’ve handled this part, right?” Hajoon suppressed a pang of regret as he racked his brain for the piece’s nickname. “What was it… I’m sure I knew it…”

The music sped up, gripping the audience as it hurtled toward its peak. Sounds collided, promising to burst into something overwhelming, as the conductor raised her baton high.

With her left hand, she reached into the air as if grasping an invisible orb. Her fingers curled, trembling slightly, capturing the orchestra’s gaze before gesturing toward the back of the stage.

At that moment, the lights beyond the shadowed seating illuminated simultaneously.

[——!]

A gust of sound erupted.

Radiant silver gleamed everywhere, as five thousand pipes caught the light and revealed their magnificent presence.

[——-!]

The queen of instruments, the pipe organ. Its rich, resounding melody soared above the orchestra’s harmonies, announcing its grand and awe-inspiring debut.

-Ah…
-Wow…

Two thousand captivated audience members gasped, their eyes glued to the gleaming silver pipes. Mouths agape, they were mesmerized by the spectacle.

[——!]

Musical instruments use resonating chambers to produce sound. Unlike most instruments, the organ lacks an internal chamber; instead, the building itself becomes the resonating chamber.

Thus, the audience was now entirely enveloped within the organ’s soundbox, physically absorbing its music.

“Incredible…” Hajoon couldn’t contain his awe.

As the dazzling pipes sparkled under the light, the nickname of this symphony sprang to mind from the depths of his memory.

“The Organ Symphony.”

Camille Saint-Saëns, known as the Beethoven of France, had been a prodigy. He first touched a piano at two, composed his first piece at five, entered the Paris Conservatory at thirteen, wrote his first symphony at sixteen, and became the titular organist of the Madeleine Church at twenty-two.

The last symphony he poured his soul into was none other than The Organ Symphony.

“Who’s playing…?” Hajoon tore his gaze from the pipes to the organist below.

Beneath the vast expanse of pipes, a man moved his arms and legs with precision.

Tall, with broad shoulders.

His black hair grazed his shoulders, and his long-tailed coat flowed as he moved.

Hajoon recognized the figure immediately.

“Baekjung?”

He recalled the scene from the waiting room when managers had clashed. Baekjung’s manager, Kim Changsik, had called his name before turning to look at him. Baekjung had stood just like this, his profile etched into Hajoon’s memory.

“A crazy guy…”

As Hajoon concentrated on Baekjung, so did the rest of the audience.

The queen of instruments had taken center stage, its regal sound dominating the orchestra, while its master manipulated it freely, captivating everyone’s gaze.

“Baekjung…”
“It’s Baekjung…”

Using the voice of the wind, he enriched the orchestra’s texture, elevating it to unprecedented heights.

The strings, supported by the organ, achieved a harmony so perfect it seemed otherworldly, while the brass instruments shed their earlier instability, emerging with pure, unadulterated power.

It was as if passion hidden beneath fury had been unleashed—fierce and exhilarating cantabile.

“…Hmm?”

Im Hajoon tilted his head, noticing something peculiar in Jung Seojoon’s movements. There was an awkwardness to the way his shoulders moved. While both hands were busily at work, the motions of his left shoulder were noticeably more pronounced than his right, almost as if he was compensating for something.

“What’s going on?”

Was it nerves?

No, the performance was far too flawless to be the result of tension. There wasn’t a single misstep to detect.

“Or could it be…”

Was the organ still unfamiliar to him? After all, Seojoon’s specialty was the piano.

Hajoon set aside his curiosity and focused back on the stage.

[—–!]

The piece had reached its final moments. The conductor’s baton swept the air with vigor, and the seventy-odd instruments roared in unison. Surrounding this orchestra, another orchestra—the organ, led by Baekjung—embraced and bolstered it.

The organ, an orchestra in itself, merged with the larger ensemble to create a vast and luxurious sonic panorama.

-Wow…
-Incredible…

Jung Seojoon’s organ playing was that of a steadfast leader: at times a humble assistant, at others a bold protagonist. But in the finale, it became the absolute sovereign, reigning supreme over the orchestra’s harmony.

[——!]

In the midst of the audience’s breathless awe, the piece crested its final peak and reached its conclusion.

[Daaaaaan——]

The organ released a burst of wind. It was as if all the thousands of pipes had opened at once, unleashing a monumental resonance that shook the entire hall.

The orchestra layered harmonies upon this mighty gale, their luminous sounds flowing like radiant silver over the hall.

And then, as the conductor’s baton drew a final arc through the air, the two orchestras exhaled their last unified breath.

The wind, which had filled the concert hall to its brim, dispersed in an instant.

Then, silence.

This was the nature of the Organ Symphony—starting in darkness and solemnity, riding the organ’s wind, and ending in brilliance, as if carried on someone’s earnest wish.

-……
-……

A profound stillness enveloped the hall. Even though the music had ended, the audience remained trapped in its lingering echoes, staring at the stage in a daze.

Neither the conductor nor the ensemble moved, each transfixed in their final posture, still captivated by the music they had just created.

Moments later.

“Bravo! Bravo!”

Im Hajoon was the first to break the spell, leaping to his feet with a shout.

“Mamma mia! Mamma mia!”

His outburst was a catalyst. The other stunned audience members stood up one by one, their voices rising in jubilant cheers and applause.

The thunderous acclaim of two thousand people shook the concert hall to its core.

The conductor, Yoon Seol, turned around, her face flushed with emotion. The musicians on stage all rose and bowed deeply to express their gratitude to the audience.

Straightening first, Yoon Seol gestured toward Jung Seojoon, drawing the crowd’s attention to him.

Jung Seojoon, however, remained seated. Beside him, Han Gwangsook clutched his right arm, whispering something to him.

Then, Gwangsook turned and signaled toward the far corner of the second floor.

At that cue, the lights illuminating the organ’s pipes suddenly went dark.

In the enveloping shadow, Jung Seoon vanished from sight.

Like a flame that had burned fiercely, extinguished in an instant.

-Murmur, murmur.

The audience broke into confused murmurs, unsure of what had just happened. Meanwhile, the orchestra members left the stage to prepare for the next piece.