Chapter 007
THE CLASSIC – Day of Filming
“But hey.”
At a café, Ji Jaewon spoke up while gazing out the window.
“Of all the many Liszt pieces, why do you think Hyesung chose La Chasse?”
His manager replied,
“Maybe because it’s the piece you got the most critical acclaim for. He probably wants to be evaluated using that standard.”
Ji Jaewon wiped the condensation off his glass and chuckled.
“Then he probably hasn’t considered that the standards will be tighter because of that.”
“Well, you have such a kind image on TV that he might be sure you won’t be harsh.”
“Still, he’s got guts. I’ll give him that.”
“Well, he’s at the age to be bold….”
The manager trailed off mid-sentence.
A memory of Hyesung’s YouTube performance surfaced.
It was hard to dismiss as mere youthful bravado. His playing had been extraordinary.
“Why’d you stop talking?”
“Ah, it’s nothing.”
He decided to swallow his thoughts.
After all, it was the day of the broadcast—no need to be a buzzkill.
‘But… did he even watch the video I sent him?’
While the manager was watching Hyesung with curiosity, Ji Jaewon stretched with a big yawn.
“This’ll be a good chance for him to see just how wide the world is—”
Yaaaawn.
The rest of his sentence came out a beat late, dragged along with the yawn.
“I’ll make sure he learns.”
“Just don’t be too hard on him, alright?”
The manager spoke with concern.
“He’s only sixteen, turning seventeen soon. It wouldn’t look good if you go too hard.”
“I know, I know. I’m just saying.”
Reasonable—but still strategic.
Ji Jaewon had a plan.
“And honestly, maybe it’s simple. Maybe he just heard your La Chasse and felt really inspired. Maybe that’s why he wants to be judged.”
“Hm, could be.”
“Then why did you pick Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 out of all the Liszt pieces?”
Ji Jaewon shrugged, as if the answer was obvious.
“Because that performance video got the hottest reaction.”
“Knew it.”
“And one more thing.”
“There’s more?”
Ji Jaewon leaned forward, halfway out of his seat, and whispered so only the manager could hear.
“Since Hyesung thankfully picked La Chasse, I had to pick the piece that shows off my technique best after that.”
Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2.
The one that could highlight his flashy skills the most.
In a moving car, four people were seated.
“You really dressed up for the studio today, huh, bro-in-law?”
That was Uncle, teasing the father, who wore sunglasses even though the sun wasn’t particularly bright.
He wasn’t wrong.
Still, it made sense—Father had barely left the house recently. A rare outing deserved a little style. Hyesung knew the feeling of cabin fever well.
“You should dress up too, bro. You came out looking so sloppy again.”
“Hey, I’ve got a radiant face to make up for it.”
Father looked at Uncle through the rearview mirror and chuckled.
“By the way, why are you even coming with us? I told you we could handle it. Aren’t you always going on about job hunting?”
“Well…”
Uncle motioned toward Hyesung.
“It’s my little bro’s first-ever shoot. Like I could focus on anything else.”
“Isn’t every day special when you’re unemployed?”
“Come on, don’t throw shade. We’re both jobless here.”
“Aish…”
That last sigh came from Mother.
She had taken the day off too—for the same reason as Uncle.
“This way, please!”
At the broadcasting station entrance, a staff member greeted them and led the way.
Inside the elevator, they all adjusted their clothes and checked their reflections.
With the four of them together, they really might pass for a family.
For context: Uncle was quite a bit younger than Mother.
They stepped off the elevator and entered the studio.
‘It feels different today.’
Last time, the studio had felt empty. Today, it was bustling.
While Hyesung watched staff members rushing around…
“I’m Kim Kisik, the PD of THE CLASSIC.”
A man approached and greeted them.
It was the first time he’d met Uncle and Mother.
“I heard you majored in piano at Jungseo University, ma’am?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“I actually graduated from there too.”
“No way!”
Maybe it was the shared alma mater, but they hit it off immediately.
Add to that their mutual interest in classical music—it was no surprise they got along well.
“Hyesung still seems relaxed today. Just like the last time I saw him.”
After finishing the conversation, the PD turned to Hyesung.
“Definitely different from typical kids. Confidence, aura—he’s got it.”
He scanned the studio, clearly looking for someone.
Not finding them, he looked back.
“Actually, I’ve grown curious about something.”
Mother smiled knowingly.
“You’re wondering how pianist Ji Jaewon will evaluate Hyesung’s performance of Liszt, right?”
The PD shrugged.
“That was the plan.”
“…Was?”
“But now, honestly, I’m not so sure how this’ll go.”
“Hey there. Nice to meet you.”
The REC light turned on. Filming had begun.
The camera angle was set with both of them facing each other, and at the edge of the frame was a Steinway & Sons piano.
“Right—let’s start with intros. You know who I am, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Really?”
“The first Korean to win the Franz Liszt International Piano Competition.”
“Haha, that’s kind of embarrassing.”
He said that like it was a big deal—but was he embarrassed by praise?
Hyesung was curious but chose not to ask.
Instead—
“You’re amazing.”
He gave a warm smile.
It was a sign of respect for the pianist who’d won a competition named after Liszt himself.
Jaewon was visibly pleased.
But inwardly—
‘The crew said this kid wasn’t ordinary… but he seems pretty normal?’
They’d warned him the kid might be hard to read, but here he was, looking genuinely respectful and polite.
Maybe a bit aloof, sure—but not much different from other kids his age.
If anything stood out, it was how pale he was, with veins faintly visible under skin as white as porcelain.
‘Like someone who’s been indoors way too long.’
“But, Hyesung…”
Jaewon licked his lips—he was honestly impressed.
“You’re ridiculously good-looking. Not just saying that.”
He was subtly fishing for a compliment in return.
Jaewon was known for his good looks, after all.
“Thank you.”
“…….”
That was it. No compliment back.
Well, from Hyesung’s perspective—or more precisely, from Franz Liszt’s perspective—Jaewon wasn’t particularly good-looking.
Back in Vienna, painters used Liszt’s face as the model for Greek gods.
So naturally, Hyesung had very high standards.
In other words, he wouldn’t offer empty compliments to someone he considered below himself.
“…Uh, right.”
Jaewon was slightly flustered.
He’d always been top-tier on lists of “most handsome Korean pianists.”
“And I saw the video of you playing the Liszt piece. It really surprised me.”
He hadn’t actually seen it.
“Your hands still look small to be playing Liszt comfortably.”
“Well, hand size isn’t the most important factor when playing Liszt.”
“Hm?”
Jaewon disagreed.
He firmly believed Liszt required large hands.
But looking at the boy’s clear, cheerful face, he didn’t argue—for now.
He’d prove his point after both performances.
“So how were you able to play so amazingly?”
“It’s thanks to my piano academy.”
At that moment, Baek Myungseon, who had been watching from afar, snapped her fingers triumphantly.
Free advertising!
But her joy was short-lived after hearing what PD Kim Kisik said nearby.
“We’ll probably have to cut that out.”
Broadcasts usually avoided unsanctioned promotion. They weren’t charity shows.
And Kim Kisik was strict about those things.
Of course, it would depend on the editor and PD’s discretion, but…
“I first learned piano at Myung Piano.”
“I discovered the joy of playing piano at Myung Piano.”
“My YouTube uploads were also from the Myung Piano account. I could only upload because of Myung Piano.”
“The background of my second video was Myung Piano as well.”
“…Hey, Hyesung?”
“Yes, Myung Piano.”
The PD smacked his forehead in disbelief.
“If we cut all of that, there won’t be any conversation left. Let’s just keep it.”
Baek Myungseon cheered inside.
‘Yes!’
Was it a coincidence—or did Hyesung do this on purpose?
Didn’t matter.
Her son really was the best….
“Alright, I’ll go first.”
Pianist Ji Jaewon handed Hyesung a score board.
“Listen to each other’s performance and write your score on here. Out of 100, got it? No mistakes allowed!”
He made a joke and sat down at the piano.
The staff quietly buzzed with excitement.
“…Wow, hearing Ji Jaewon play Liszt live.”
“I’ve never heard it in person. I’m nervous.”
“Hyesung must be tense too.”
“Playing second after that? Talk about pressure.”
“Honestly, the PD is kind of cruel for arranging the order this way.”
Then the performance began.
Jaewon’s choice:
Franz Liszt – Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2
The moment his fingers touched the keys, murmurs of awe spread.
Gasps of admiration followed.
“…Wow, I’ve never felt my ears tingle like this from music before.”
“Look at my arms—goosebumps already.”
“See? He didn’t win that competition for nothing.”
PD Kim Kisik felt the same.
‘Yeah, no doubt about it.’
Ji Jaewon was a master.
Especially with Liszt, his skills were unmatched.
Listening to him in person confirmed it.
‘…He’s still got it.’
He looked at Hyesung.
That same serene smile as before.
Even hearing the music live—still calm.
‘…Is he only curious? That’s it?’
Soon after, Hyesung wrote his score on the board—no hesitation.
“Phew…”
After about 10 minutes, Jaewon finished.
He returned to his seat, slightly out of breath from the difficult piece.
“So, how many points did you give me?”
He asked softly, fully expecting 100 points.
Hyesung flipped the board.
[80]
“…What?”
Jaewon blinked in disbelief.
At the Liszt International Competition, all judges had given him scores in the 90s for this piece.
But this boy just gave him 80?
It was ridiculous.
Then the boy spoke.
“Your technique was amazing. And only 11 missed touches.”
“……”
That number was actually very low for such a complex piece.
But that wasn’t the point.
Only the performer could know their exact number of missed touches.
The differences were so subtle, even attentive listeners couldn’t spot them—especially from someone like Jaewon.
‘But how…?’
As Jaewon pulled back in surprise…
“But if we take away technique and judge the rest…”
Hyesung spun the board again.
[08]
Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2—a piece soaked in the joys and sorrows of Hungary—
That wasn’t how you were supposed to play it.
That—
Was the memory of a quiet evening in wintertime Budapest.
