Ch.28Kim Donghu, you’re crazy

Brilliant talent strikes the stage.

It makes it impossible to close the curtain, impossible to promise an end.

A performance filled with contempt and disdain.

As the keys follow the score, new emotions emerge.

Even in this moment,

All I have beside me are broken fragments.

Lee J’s eyes look beyond the camera toward the audience.

Though many are entranced watching him,

Not a single person he wanted to see has appeared.

Neither his mother who avoids him,

Nor his father who has built a new family and treats him as if he doesn’t exist,

In the end, no one came.

What meaning does this world have, where only broken pottery fragments drift about?

Loss and the anger that fills that loss press down on the keys.

La Campanella.

That piece, praised as difficult to perform both in the past and present,

Is recreated at the fingertips of a genius nourished by hatred.

A clear truth that even the most musically ignorant can understand:

High Dream can never defeat Lee J.

How could a mere school club band ever beat that?

Arts high school? They’re still just high school students.

‘There’s no comparison.’

Edward Park’s gaze couldn’t leave Kim Donghu, no, Lee J.

‘A master.’

That is the realm of masters.

The ideal that those who pursue perfection should strive toward.

That is self-righteous talent.

A dictatorship that mocks others and tramples them to rise higher.

A position that some could never even glimpse the shadow of in their lifetime.

With each strike of Lee J’s keys, the story twists.

After seeing that, could anyone still call for an encore for High Dream?

Do you think that’s possible?

Lee J asks Lee Minha.

He protests, questioning whether it’s right to give a forced opportunity

Just to show the beauty of those at the bottom.

Tremble.

The script in writer Lee Minha’s hand crumples.

A story she had spent days and nights writing.

She had firmly believed this work must succeed too,

That this scenario would definitely be successful.

The rebellion of the underdog defeating a genius.

A story that must end in victory and effort ultimately triumphing over talent.

But.

‘How arrogant have I been?’

Now she realizes how ridiculous that story is.

A genius who doesn’t try will eventually be caught by a diligent ordinary person.

Then what about a genius who does try?

Can anyone defeat a genius who has lost his family, fallen into deep loss, and has only the piano left?

In Lee J’s eyes, there is no light for bright hope.

He says that’s garbage not even worth playing.

‘What am I even watching?’

Writer Lee Minha stared blankly at Lee J.

That performance could be defeated?

Is it possible for the situation to be reversed with just one band encore?

‘I can’t imagine it.’

The story she had conceived with such difficulty vanishes from her mind.

Thud.

The script she was holding falls to the floor, soiled.

Lee J will not lose,

There will be no encore for High Dream,

And the rigid judges will not change their minds after seeing High Dream.

As the performance raced toward its conclusion, Lee Minha’s thoughts grew increasingly complex.

For a good ending, High Dream should win.

After all, the drama is titled <High Dream>, so it makes no sense for High Dream to lose.

But.

‘Will everyone think that way after seeing this?’

Writer Lee Minha’s gaze leaves Lee J and sweeps across the filming site.

She sees faces lost in a daze, shocked.

Some were gripping themselves tightly as if covered in goosebumps.

Even the filming director’s eyes drift from the camera.

If he loses focus for a moment, his body leans toward seeing the real Lee J, not the one through the lens.

The indiscriminate violence of talent,

Tramples the existing story and demands to face reality.

‘…!’

At the climax of the performance.

For a moment, Lee Minha felt as if she had made eye contact with Lee J.

I am what you created.

Is it right for me, who is more perfect than anything, to lose?

Tell those inferior ones.

Declare their defeat right now.

The intricately woven performance grips Lee Minha’s throat like a rope.

A powerful presence that refuses to accept the ending.

Under that pressure, Lee Minha unconsciously lowered her head.

And then she realized.

‘I need to prepare.’

That a second story would be needed.

‘The story will change.’

For now, they would follow the original script,

Unable to change the promised flow,

But when Lee J is revealed to the world.

She was certain everything would be twisted.

+++++

“I’m supposed to beat something like that?”

Jin Suhyeok looked up at Lee J’s performance with an incredulous smile.

A mere high school level beating that? Even for a drama, it’s a ridiculous story.

With skills that could justify holding a concert right now unfolding before his eyes.

How on earth are we beneath him supposed to win?

‘High Dream’s theme is completely disconnected.’

A story where the efforts of inferior children finally see the light.

A hopeful theme saying if you don’t give up and keep going, you too can succeed.

He could see it being contaminated by just one person.

‘Kim Donghu.’

If he were simply playing the piano, one might say it’s not acting.

But right now, Kim Donghu was performing perfectly as ‘Lee J’ while playing.

The seething contempt is visible to the point of overflowing.

The constant pressure demanding reverence can be felt.

A differentiation from others.

He could see the villain, originally created for defeat with only 5 episodes worth of screen time, struggling.

No, even calling it a struggle was laughable.

How is thoroughly trampling everyone except himself a struggle?

Tremble, tremble.

His hand shakes slightly.

Is it Song Cheolsu who’s trembling, or Jin Suhyeok who must play that role?

His mind was already too dizzy to make that distinction.

He needed to practice for the encore performance scene that would be filmed shortly after this performance ended.

But his hands wouldn’t move.

No matter how much you struggle, it’s useless.

Before Lee J’s performance that issues a stern warning,

His body had already realized the futility of struggling.

+++++

The performance races toward its end.

The time allowed to “me” gradually comes to an end.

More, more, more.

I wanted to trample those lowly ones.

I wanted to engrave in their bones how high and insurmountable the wall of talent is,

How meaningless it is to try to break it.

‘How regrettable.’

Ten fingers touch the keys, signaling the end.

A clean and clear bell sound finally declares the end of the violence of talent.

But not everything was over.

After the performance ends, I slowly look around.

Judges filled with astonishment and people beyond the camera in a daze.

The face I actually want to see doesn’t exist.

“…”

Silently, I grab the microphone installed on the grand piano.

Originally, I should have sung while playing the piano,

But this is the result of changing everything to show the realm of talent.

To show brilliant genius.

“Thank you for listening.”

A calm greeting toward the judges and the stage.

Immediately after, I slowly head toward the back of the stage.

The camera follows, and I look up at the ceiling with a hollow face.

“Again, no one came today.”

A full audience means nothing.

If the person who should hear doesn’t listen, what use is that performance?

Glance.

I cast a glance in the direction where the High Dream members would be.

“Idiots laughing without knowing anything.”

It was futile.

I intensely hated myself for having to be alone after the performance.

Having to feel inferior to such things,

Being jealous and envious of inferior things,

My pathetic self,

“…how foolish.”

It was terribly shameful.

Behind the stage.

All I can do, left alone,

Is to bury my face in my knees where no one can hear,

And cry quietly.

“CUT!!!”

As soon as Director Ji Jangmin gave the OK sign, I immediately lifted my head.

Lee J completely disappears from within me, leaving not even a fragment of emotion.

“Donghu! How did you! How did you think of this!”

PD Kim Youngmo, full of excitement, tried to approach me, but,

“Actor Kim Donghu! Can, can we shoot this multiple times? Are you physically okay with that?!”

There were others who were even more excited.

“Actor Kim Donghu! Can you tell us how you interpreted Lee J to interpret the script this way?!”

“Wh-what?”

Filming Director Ji Jangmin and Writer Lee Minha.

The two of them were charging fiercely toward me.

+++++

After discussing taking a rest and then shooting from various angles.

I took a deep breath and chewed on some fish cake.

‘Not singing was my ad-lib, and it worked.’

That’s good.

While thinking that and drinking the fish cake broth,

“Donghu, there you are?”

Kim Sujin’s mother and once top actress,

Actress Kim Yuryeon approached me.

“Yes, they said to film after a break, so I was resting.”

“It’s almost Christmas, do you have any plans?”

“Uh…”

Do I?

Glance.

As soon as I glanced toward Manager Seokho, the quick-witted Seokho shook his head.

“I don’t have anything specific.”

“Really? Then shall we have a meal together then?”

“It would be my honor.”

“What honor, it’s just a meal.”

Actress Kim Yuryeon seemed pleased with my answer and showed a radiant smile.

“Oh, by the way, if you’re going to rest, wouldn’t it be better to rest in the classroom rather than here?”

“Classroom?”

“Yes, it’s indoors and they even turned on the heater just in case, so it’s warm. We were resting there too.”

“Really? Thank you for letting me know.”

“First floor, that is, go to class 1-1.”

“Got it!”

What, there was a place with the heater on?

Why didn’t anyone tell me?

‘Well, it’s fine as long as I know now.’

Since there’s nothing better than warmth in winter.

I immediately ran to classroom 1-1.

‘What’s this, why is it so dark?’

Shouldn’t a break room normally have the lights on?

Thinking that, the moment I turned on the lights.

“Huh, what?!”

“Well, I haven’t seen you in a while and your first words are ‘huh, what?!'”

“Kim Donghu, are you crazy?”

Whatever made her so happy.

Sujin was looking at me with a bright smile.