Chapter 10.2

In Moscow, Seojun’s daily life was monotonous.

He had always been talented in many areas. Even without studying hard, he ranked among the top in the nation, and whatever he learned, he quickly mastered and applied, which made the people of Leehan wary of him.

The reason he majored in piano was because the family wanted it that way.

They were united in not wanting him to study business administration. They wished for him to immerse himself in music or art, drifting abroad for the rest of his life until his death.

So, he had no particular affection for the piano, nor did he feel attached to his new life in Russia.

He remained bored, restless, and powerless. That very powerlessness stirred a strange excitement in others.

Despite having a surreal appearance that could rival any rising Russian model, Seojun’s indifference to the world around him ignited hidden desires in those who observed him.

Moreover, his overly cynical responses when spoken to added a decadent charm to his persona.

As he grew older, the number of women reacting to him increased. Wherever he went, blatant stares followed, and there were countless direct propositions for one-night stands.

Professor Elena was one of them. Even though he played the piano without emotion, she recognized his talent immediately.

“Do it again.”

“From the beginning?”

“Yes, from the beginning.”

“…”

“What’s wrong? Don’t want to?”

“No.”

“Fine, then just from here to here. Do you think you can hide talent by suppressing it? Just try a little more.”

Her hand, pointing at the sheet music, moved onto Seojun’s hand. Her fingers lingered on his long fingers in a suggestive manner before finally pulling away.

Though he slightly frowned at the intimate contact, she paid no attention.

Elena simply liked Seojun. She was drawn to him from the start, and regardless of their teacher-student relationship, she found him deeply inspiring.

Even she hadn’t expected to become so infatuated with a black-haired Asian man from Korea. Over time, her obsession with Seojun grew.

“Seojun, follow me for a moment.”

After every class, she called him to her private teaching room. She would assign him various pieces to play, and while he played the piano, she would immerse herself in deep admiration.

He was cold but beautiful. She wanted to shatter the frozen, tranquil ocean within him.

Eventually, she began taking him to private gatherings, praising him endlessly as her most cherished student.

Seojun, being powerless, simply let life flow. He neither refused nor blindly agreed.

Until one weekday morning, when he came across news about Seo Moonkyeong in an online article.

She was still dazzling. She swept first place in every competition, receiving glowing praise from all directions.

The article included a long interview with her, titled “The Daughter of National Assembly Member Seo Jaewoo,” and featured a family photo taken after a performance.

In the photo, Moonkyeong, dressed in her ballet costume, held a magnificent bouquet of flowers. Standing beside her were Seo Jaewoo and Do Hyeran, both beaming brighter than anyone else.

Seojun stared at Moonkyeong’s smile for a long time. She, too, was smiling with her eyes curved into crescents.

A small, mocking laugh escaped through his lips.

“Great acting.”

He ridiculed her silently, but in that moment, Seojun faltered.

This damned girl had once again occupied a corner of his brain, consuming all his thoughts.

If only he had seen her crying alone somewhere or throwing a tantrum, saying she couldn’t do ballet anymore.

He would’ve ignored her and left her alone.

But Seo Moonkyeong, who persisted in living despite withering away day by day, drove him mad.

What was so great about family? No matter how hard people like them tried, family was something they could never truly have.

“She still doesn’t get it.”

He brushed himself off and stood up irritably.

That afternoon, he was once again in Professor Elena’s private teaching room. Wearing a dress with a plunging neckline, she leaned toward Seojun.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Seojun, resting his fingers on the piano keys, replied indifferently.

“No.”

“None?”

“No.”

“Why? Are you not interested in women? Or maybe…”

Seojun stared at the sheet music.

“I’m not interested in men or women.”

“Really? Do you think that makes sense? It’s just because you haven’t met someone you like yet. When you do, everything will change. I promise. The world will look different.”

“Whether they do or not, I just hope they don’t bother me. I despise women who wag their tails openly in front of others. It looks vulgar.”

“……”

Even as he finished playing the piano and walked out, Elena remained silent.

That evening, torrential rain poured down. At a time when early summer should have begun, a cold and low atmosphere swept in, bringing unpredictable weather along with the rain.

At a hamburger shop, where he had gone to escape the rain, he searched for several videos of Moonkyeong. She seemed like a woman who stood closest to the pinnacle of beauty that humans could emulate. The noble movements of her small feet as she lightly leaped and soared caught Seojun’s eyes.

He stared at the thick raindrops falling outside the window. Gazing at the gloomy sky and the darkness devouring the day, he suddenly recalled a message exchange she had shared with a friend long ago:

<Yuhyun, I don’t think I can make it to your birthday party today. Sorry.>  

<Why? Did your mom say no again?>  

<Yeah.>  

<Ugh. What’s wrong with your mom? You must be so annoyed!>  

<No, she’s a good person.>  

<Good? Forget it. Honestly, I’m upset too. You said you’d definitely come this time. What’s the point of me trying to get closer to you when you only care about your mom?>  

<Sorry.>  

<Just run away from home. You know Jeongae, right? She stormed out once, and her parents have been treating her really well ever since.>  

<…I wish I could do that too. I just want to live my own life for one week, away from my mom.>

Sometime later, Seojun deliberately showed Moonkyeong’s video to the director of the Olga Ballet Company, whom Professor Elena had introduced to him. His plan was to bring her to Moscow, hoping she could breathe freely, even if just for a moment, away from Korea.

As Seojun had anticipated, the director was deeply impressed by Moonkyeong and immediately scheduled an audition. That was how she came to fly to Moscow.

On the day of her audition, Seojun waited nearby, his face hidden under a hoodie. When he saw her walking with Do Hyeran from afar, he felt a cracking sound, like a frozen sea starting to break. His heart raced as if the sea might flow again at any moment. He recognized her instantly. The youthful girl he had first met was gone, replaced by a serene yet resilient figure, as noble as a magnolia blossom.

Seojun wore large earphones, his hands shoved into his pockets. Her pale, rosy cheeks, loosely tied hair, tense shoulders, and firmly pressed lips stirred a small tremor in his chest as he approached her. Her cheeks, in particular, gave him a strange feeling. The moment he saw her, it felt as though his fingertips were burning.

He swallowed dryly. Though he trembled inside, he showed no sign of it outwardly. Pulling his face deeper into the hoodie, Seojun deliberately bumped into her shoulder as they crossed paths. The phone in her hand fell to the ground, and at the same time, he intentionally dropped his own phone from his pocket.

“Ugh.”

At her short gasp, Seojun quickly picked up her phone and walked away without looking back. Even as Moonkyeong called out to him in English, he pretended not to hear her and kept walking.

Moonkyeong, with a baffled expression, picked up the phone and immediately realized that the phones had been switched.

“What’s wrong?” 

Hyeran asked, noticing her frown.

“Our phones got switched.”

“What? I’ll go after him. You go ahead and get ready.”  

Hyeran hurriedly grabbed Moonkyeong’s phone and chased after Seojun. She had to run unexpectedly as he entered a hamburger shop at the end of the road, leaving her breathless. Calling out to him in fluent English, she finally made him turn around.

He responded in English as well.  

“What’s the matter?”  

“Are you Korean?”  

“No.”  

“Fine, whatever. Our phones got switched. How can you bump into someone’s shoulder without apologizing and then switch phones like this?”  

“I’m sorry.”  

Seojun pointed to his earphones, indicating that he had been distracted because of them. Accepting his apology, Hyeran took Moonkyeong’s phone and said nothing more. It was a critical moment in their lives, and Moonkyeong’s audition was far more urgent.

After Hyeran walked away, Seojun leisurely placed his order. Sitting at a single-person table by the window, he took a big bite of his hamburger. Plugging his earphones back in, he pressed play, and for the first time in years, Moonkyeong’s voice filled his ears again. Her breath, her murmurs, even the faint noises she made when nervous or upset—all of it reached him.

The new eavesdropping program was the same one he had installed on some of the household members’ devices when he left Korea. For him, monitoring them was now a matter of survival, ensuring he wouldn’t meet the same fate as his biological mother, who had died suddenly in an accident.

Fearing that someone might come for him at any time, he always slept with a gun under his pillow—the same gun that Shin Jueun had once pointed at his head during his childhood.

As he sucked on the sharp fizz of his cola through a straw, he heard Moonkyeong mutter a short curse. She must have been alone in the dressing room, changing for her audition. Do Hyeran had likely handed her the phone and left her side.

He had thought she only wanted to live as a good daughter. Hearing those crude words from her noble lips, Seojun froze for a moment before bursting into laughter. It felt as though a weight had been lifted from his chest.