San had a bit of time before his next lesson. He already finished his lunch and, thanks to the special permission, he could use the music room, so now, he went inside and sat on the piano stool.
At first, he moved his fingers to warm them up. He always had chilly hands. San placed his fingers on the keyboard of the piano and just moved them randomly, listening to the sound it made. Then he slowly moved to the first song he practiced. Chopin's Nocturne op. 9 no. 2. It was a calm piece that made him move his hands a lot.
San moved his upper body to a slow rhythm. He didn't particularly like this piece, but it was better than some others he had to practice. They always told him to be less emotional when playing to keep it under his skin, yet show the emotions a bit in his music.
He then started Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Maybe it was because he did not feel good today, so he played such melancholic pieces. Maybe it was because they were slow-tempo.
He felt under the weather, tired, and wanted to sleep. He wanted to stop learning the piano. He wanted to stop everything and live for a moment because he knew nothing else than school and piano practice. And it ate him bit by bit.
He finished the first movement before he saw from the corner of his eyes that someone was standing by the window. San stopped and smiled at the boy.
"Hi! You want to listen?" San asked after the greeting. He loved meeting new people or to meet new friends. Sometimes when he had concerts abroad, he would come with many new contacts.
"I… can I?" the guy asked, his voice low, calm and obviously shy. San nodded at him, his face beaming with a smile.
"You can come inside. Do you have a song you like?" He was tall, taller than San. A lot skinnier than San, but there was something cute and boyish on his face that made San think of the word adorkable.
"The break is gonna stop soon, so think of one now. Maybe I'll know it," he said and smiled again. The boy nodded and was silent for a few seconds.
"Can you play something modern?" San laughed and shook his head in agreement. He listed some of the songs he was interested in and learned.
"Then.. Radioactive." San was surprised by the choice of Imagine Dragons, but he did not complain. If he didn't like the song, he wouldn't have learned it. It was one of the few foreign, modern songs he liked. But he learned some Korean songs too. That's why it was refreshing that someone asked for a foreign one.
"You are amazing!" the guy exclaimed and clapped his hands. San bowed to him out of habit and then got up. He offered his hand to a handshake.
"Yang San, first year." The guy grabbed San's hand and examined it.
"You have really beautiful long fingers. I'm Hwang Woojin, first year too." San was surprised at the sudden compliment and his ears were flaming red.
"Why are you here in this high school? Not in art school?" Woojin asked. San was again too stunned to speak for a few seconds.
"This is closer to home and… Mother prefers it when I'm studying just like normal kids do…" If San were to be honest, he was happy to get a few hours of sleep. He would wake up early, and have a morning practice before going to school where he had to study until late afternoon, then in the evening he would go to the music academy and when he came back home, he had to do homework and papers his mother always brought home.
The gong sounded and broke the awkward silence that hung in the room.
"I have to go. I'm in class four if you want to listen sometime again," San said and waved goodbye while running to his class. He did not see the stunned and charmed gaze Woojin watched him with. And he did not know how big of a first impression he made.
The next day, San went to his table and saw chocolate milk where his place. It had a note attached to it.
"I really liked what you played. This is my payment." San took it and forgot the face it was from. That was his doom. He forgot people he did not meet so often. Their faces, not their names. But this face got weirdly stuck in his brain, together with the name. Too adorable.
"Woojin gave it to you. He said I should say thank you. How did you meet him?" Seeun-ah, his tablemate, asked him, and San laughed.
"He heard me play, and I played him one song as he wished." Seeun puffed his cheeks.
"That's unfair. You never let me listen to you. And if I wished a song for you to play, you would kick me in my ass." San slapped Seeun's back and opened the milk.
"Because you are my friend!" he exclaimed and took a sip of the milk. He never had it before, because he did not like chocolate flavors, but this one was really good. Maybe it was because the brand was new.
A teacher came in and San was happy and actually willing to learn more songs again. Some happy pieces for a change. He played a tune with his fingers on his table before the teacher nagged at him to pay attention.
San opened his matchbook and dived into the logical world of thinking. While his brain was filled with emotion, he did not understand yet, which made him a bit confused.
He wasn't young. Yet it was the first person who made him remember his face, which was something in San's eyes.
"I think I'll never forget his face," he mumbled and earned a jab into his side because the teacher stared at him again. San flashed him a huge ass smile and continued to solve the math problems, allowing himself to forget everything else for a while.