It was Friday morning at 11 o'clock.
It was that time when everyone was lost in slumber after practicing until late into the night. Geon, alone in a corner of the practice room, was watching a live video of 'You are my kind' by 'Seal' on his laptop. With one arm on the table and a frustrated expression, Geon sighed.
"'Seal' effortlessly indulges in Latin music while swaying bit by bit as he sings. The feel of Latin rock comes across so well... Why can't I make it work?"
Geon pondered a lot while singing. He calculated tirelessly to capture the emotions injected by the composer and lyricist into the music. This song demanded even more concentration than others. The melody was a fast-paced Latin rock, making it challenging to handle the emotions, let alone focus on stage actions.
After briefly searching for another live video by 'Santana' on his laptop, Geon closed it. Leaning back, he gazed up at the ceiling.
"How can I evoke more emotion naturally? Should I act out a romantic scene?"
Geon stared at the ceiling for a while, feeling a stiffness in his neck, then massaged it before getting up from his seat.
"I should eat something first. Can't think on an empty stomach."
With a troubled expression, Geon walked out of the Chicago Cultural Center. After strolling for about three minutes along the street, he found himself in front of the 'Millennium Station.' Spotting a hotdog truck by the entrance of the subway station, he approached it, thinking he could sit on the nearby bench and eat.
Inside the truck, a white-haired elderly man in his late sixties was vigorously grilling sausages. Glancing at the menu attached to the side of the truck, Geon spoke up.
"Could I have a cheese dog and a cola, please?"
The old man, upon seeing Geon, faintly smiled and nodded. As Geon reached for money from his pocket to hand it to the old man, a similarly aged woman emerged from behind the truck and spoke.
"Give the money to me."
As Geon looked at the woman, then at the man, the man nodded.
"She's my wife. You can give the money to her."
Bowing slightly, Geon handed the money to the woman, who seemed unfamiliar with Asian customs, and she awkwardly accepted it with a bow before smiling at Geon.
"Young man, are you Japanese? They usually behave like this."
Shaking his head, Geon replied, "I'm Korean. We also have our customs."
Smiling, the woman put the money in a basket on the truck.
"Ah, I see. I'll give you the food soon. Can you sit by the bench next to you for a moment?"
Geon smiled and sat on the bench. Millennium Station was usually bustling, but this morning it seemed quiet. Stretching and sitting on the bench, Geon felt his mind clearing.
"I did the right thing coming out. My head feels clearer outside."
"Um... ma... ga... seom... geu...neul...e..."
Geon abruptly turned at the sound of a song behind him.
"Korean?"
Looking around for the source of the Korean nursery rhyme, Geon saw a woman sitting alone in the grass behind the bench, singing softly. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties, dressed formally, yet seated on the grass.
As Geon squirmed to get a better look, he noticed the woman had one leg crossed over the other, staring at the ground with sad eyes. With her head bowed, she held her left chest with one hand, looking painfully sorrowful. Geon felt a mix of curiosity about her situation and a desire to help a fellow Korean, prompting him to rise from his seat. Just then, the elderly woman pushed hotdogs and a cola towards him.
"Here you go. Enjoy it."
After glancing at the elderly woman and then back at the woman singing, Geon received the hotdog. The elderly woman looked at the woman with a pitiful expression and said,
"She's here again. That lady."
With a mouthful of hotdog, Geon turned to the elderly woman and asked, "Does she have a story? She sings so sadly."
Shaking her head sorrowfully, the elderly woman replied, "I heard it from Lisa, who used to run a flower shop here... Last year, during that gang shooting incident at this station, she lost her daughter. A three-year-old, exactly."
"She was three," chimed in a gruff voice beside him. The grandfather, wiping his hands with a towel, approached. He tied the towel around his neck, placing his hand on his hip as he looked at the woman.
"That daughter was three. Even while taking a walk with her daughter, she was always on the phone for work. Apparently, on the day of that incident, she was yelling on the phone during their walk. She still managed to hold her daughter's hand and tell her to play alone for a bit while she took a call beside that building."
Geon looked at the woman with sympathetic eyes. She seemed to be tearing herself apart, holding and patting her chest while shedding tears. She softly sang a little song:
When mom goes to gather shells in the shade
The baby stays alone and watches the house
Listening to the lullaby the sea sings
Cuddling her arms, she slowly falls asleep
Even though the baby sleeps soundly
The seagull's cries make her heart flutter
With a basket not entirely filled on her head
Mom hurries back
As the song ended, the woman lowered her head to caress the ground again, and her singing continued uninterrupted. The grandfather said sadly, "What a pity."
"That spot where the woman stands is where her daughter was shot. She doesn't think her child died because she left her place empty. She believes if they were together, they'd have died together. Since then, she's been sitting there, singing incomprehensible songs all day."
Geon couldn't take his eyes off the woman as he pondered.
"So that's why she sings for her lost child... The person who made that song sought refuge in Busan during the 6.25 Incident and heard about a mother who, while away, worried for her newborn left alone at home while she worked in the fields."
"So... she's singing that song because she feels responsible for losing her daughter."
Geon remained fixed on the woman for a long while. His forgotten hot dog had gone cold, and condensation dampened his cola. Even while the grandparents beside him returned to their tasks, Geon's attention didn't waver from the woman. Just looking at her brought tears to his eyes.
"How much pain must she be in? How much regret? Guilt? How much does she long to see her daughter?"
Geon lowered his head in contemplation.
"If... it were me, could I have endured it? It wouldn't have been my fault, but in such a situation, one couldn't help but blame oneself."
Feeling a surge of emotions while gazing at the woman, Geon felt remorseful for having such thoughts. Silently, he offered an apology to her, knowing she wouldn't hear.
"I'm sorry. It's too presumptuous of me to have these thoughts about your immeasurable grief. Someday, when you're better, I'll compose a song that heals you. Please recover."
When Geon's grandmother returned to warm his cold hot dog, he had already vanished.
"Where did that lad go? Lad! Lad!"
Returning to the practice room, Geon picked up the sheet music for 'You are my kind.' The musical notes were still in a vibrant shade of 'violet.'
"The color representing ardent love. Is that truly accurate? It was Chagall who said that about violet, not Rachmaninoff. Could I be mistaken?"
Beside the musical notes, Geon transcribed English lyrics into Korean. Suddenly, he paused at one point.
"Stay by my side, that's all I ask for
Knowing someday this moment won't be remembered by you
Because you're like me, you're everything I desire
Our lives remain here until we die
Our breath, our skin, our hearts, our minds
You're unique yet just like me, you're just like me"
Geon stopped writing and looked at the lyrics.
"I misunderstood.
"Violet isn't 'ardent love,' it's 'painful solitary love.' My emotions were misinterpreted. That's why I had to concentrate so intensely while singing."
"This song isn't meant for someone else. It's words I couldn't articulate and spit out alone."
Crossing his arms and closing his eyes, Geon, inexperienced in unrequited love, found interpreting emotions challenging.
He folded the sheet music, placed it in his guitar bag, and glanced at the time on the wall.
"Two o'clock in the afternoon. Thirty hours until the live performance."
"Kate! Stop applying lipstick and come quickly! We need to get a good spot!"
Frustrated, Abigail rolled her eyes and urged Kate. It was 6 PM on a Saturday afternoon when they arrived at Chicago Grand Park by taxi from the plane. Santana's live performance was two hours away.
Kate, catching a glimpse of herself in the window, adjusted her makeup with a mirror she pulled from her bag and remarked, "Abigail, is this your first time at the Lollapalooza Festival?"
Abigail clenched her fist, lowering her hand before shouting, "Ah! Kate, there's no time for that! Yes, it's my first time!"
Kate, glancing casually at Abigail, put the mirror back in her bag and remarked, "It's too late now. Fans have been camping there for three days to secure good spots. It doesn't matter if we hurry, foolish."
Listening to Kate, Abigail seemed to lose energy, slumping her body.
"Sigh, should've come yesterday. It's my first time seeing Geon's stage. I won't see much from the back, darn."
Kate chuckled, patting Abigail's shoulder. "Don't worry. It's Geon's vocals; they'll be on the big screen. It'll be hard to get out once we're in, so I'll go to the restroom beforehand. Want me to grab beer for you, Abigail? I'll cover the cost."
Kate took out four ten-dollar bills from her wallet, handing them to Abigail. Abigail accepted the money and turned away, thinking to herself, 'Damn Lucas! He's always interfering when I plan my vacation. Because of him, I won't get a good view! I'll spit in his coffee when I'm back!'
As Abigail sought the hotdog truck, she noticed Kate throwing remarks at the men while they moved towards the restroom.
"Kate never stops, does she? But who are those men? They look so cool."
Kate seemed to send a seductive glance somewhere, where three men stood. Dressed in black suits, they stood out conspicuously in the live performance area. One was a tall man in his mid-thirties with short black hair, another a blonde teenage boy, his hair reaching his waist. The last was a platinum blonde whose swept-back hair resembled a lion's mane.
As Kate tossed remarks at the men, she seemed disinterested, focusing on the stage. Abigail, thinking of intervening, overheard their conversation.
"It's tonight, Puerson. Take care of the kid while she's asleep."
"Yes, Your Highness. I understand."
Abigail cocked her head, puzzled. 'Your Highness? Who could these high-ranking people be? The one referred to as 'Your Highness' seems French or Italian...'
"Pyemon, make sure Andras keeps his mouth shut."
"Haha, yes, Your Highness. I've clearly conveyed it."
"Goodness, what a scatterbrain."
Abigail couldn't make sense of the conversation, but since it lacked context, she didn't dwell on it. Instead, she approached Kate and dragged her away to the restroom.
"Kate! Stop being embarrassing and let's go to the restroom!"
Despite being pulled along by Abigail, Kate couldn't take her eyes off the men.
"Wait! Aren't those guys really cool? Look!"
Abigail pushed Kate into the restroom, then took out foundation from her bag, muttering, "Kate, your makeup's smudging from all the fidgeting!"
Seated in the restroom, Kate spoke up. "But, Abigail, those guys were saying weird things earlier."
Exhaling, Abigail said, "No matter what others say, don't eavesdrop on such things, ugh."
"That's not it! They mentioned 'Geon' in their conversation!"
Abigail glared at Kate's reflection in the mirror, yelling, "Kate! Don't open the door while I'm in the restroom!"
"Seriously? What was all that talk about energy?"
Kate, still sitting, tilted her head, wondering.
"Anyway, hurry up. Let's go," Abigail urged from outside.
As they left the restroom, backstage at that moment, Geon anxiously glanced at the clock, tapping his leg. Carlos and Rob sat relaxed, watching the live stage on TV in the waiting room, while the session musicians checked their instruments.
Seeing Geon's tension, Rob chuckled and advised, "Kate, everyone has their first time. Understandable to be nervous, but try to enjoy it."
Geon crossed his arms and legs, unable to hide his anxious expression, mumbling, "Uh, okay."
Carlos, pretending to be fine, laughed when Rob said, "Who are you advising now? Don't you remember your first stage?"
Embarrassed, Rob stopped speaking when Carlos laughed and said, "Hey, Rob here was so nervous during his first stage; he went to the restroom more than ten times. Hahaha."
Understanding, Geon laughed as Rob patted him on the back, and someone approached Carlos for a greeting.
"Hello, Mr. Santana."
Carlos turned to him and greeted, "Oh, Billy. It's been a while. We're backstage tonight, right? I'll set things up properly, so please wrap it up nicely."
Billy, with short purple hair, laughed and shook hands. "Sure, please do. Get the vibe going."
Carlos, placing a hand on Billy's back, turned to Geon, saying, "This is Rob Thomas. You've met before, right?"
Shaking hands with Rob, Billy laughed. "Of course, Mr. Thomas. We met a few years ago."
Rob chuckled and shook Billy's hand. Carlos glanced at Geon, concluding.
"Hey, this is Kay. He's our guest vocalist this time around. Kay, say hello. And this is Billie Joe Armstrong."
From the moment Billy appeared, Geon felt his soul leaving his body.
"Billie... Billie Joe Armstrong... Green Day!"
Billy chuckled and extended his hand.
"Carlos always picks talented guest vocalists. Looking forward to working with you."
Geon, stunned, shook hands, and Carlos chuckled, patting his shoulder.
"Well, our stage is up soon. Let's catch up later."
Billy nodded understandingly.
"Sure, you guys will stay for our performance too?"
Carlos nodded enthusiastically.
"Absolutely! It'll be a blast. Let's enjoy the show."
As Billy waved and left, Geon turned to Carlos.
"I can't believe I just saw Green Day. It's surreal."
Rob chuckled at Geon's reaction.
"Getting startled over sharing a stage with Santana, huh?"
Carlos laughed, addressing Geon.
"Alright, time to head up. Kay, you're on for the third song. Watch from the dressing room till the second one starts, alright? Rob's got the mic check covered."
Geon nodded, and Santana's members moved backstage. Alone, Geon watched the TV as stagehands hurriedly prepared for the next act after the front stage ended.
Moments later, the lights dimmed on the empty stage.
The audience cheered, knowing Santana's live performance, the main event of the night, was about to begin.
"Wow!!!!!!"
Suddenly, on the dark stage, Santana's signature guitar riff kicked in, slicing through the silence.
"Jing jing jing jing~"
The melody played was the guitar intro to Santana's hit track "Smooth," slowed down considerably, heightening the tension.
After a while, the drums and congas played three beats, and the stage lit up.
"Thump thump!"
As the lights came on, Santana's "Smooth" began. The unique, fast-paced Latin rock melody filled the air, prompting the audience to cheer and start dancing one by one, feeling the beach party vibe the song exuded. Most women raised their hands high, swaying to the rhythm, while men locked eyes with these ladies, dancing along.
It was truly Santana.
They swiftly seized the stage, instantly immersing everyone in the passionate Latin dance.
Before the first song ended, the second began without giving the audience a chance to pause. Spotlighting the session man handling the bass, a bass and drum solo ensued.
"Doom, doom, doom, doom, doom, doom, doom, doom"
Carlos' guitar solo followed suit.
"Ting-ting-ting-ting"
The audience instinctively recognized it as the prelude to another Santana hit, "Maria Maria," and cheered. Rob stepped forward, starting to sing with an impassioned voice. Despite the sad lyrics, the lively melody urged the audience to dance again. Santana's performance seamlessly blended passionate Latin dance with alluring rhythms.
Oh Maria Maria
She fell in love in East L.A. to the sounds of the guitar, yeah, yeah
Played by Carlos Santana
Throughout, Carlos closed his eyes, passionately playing the guitar. As the second song concluded, Geon, amidst singing the second song's chorus, took the microphone from the stagehand behind the curtain.
Soon, the second song ended, and the applause and cheers from the audience filled the air. Geon, with a tense expression, raised his head and looked at the stage. The endless waves of the audience became visible.
Now, it was Geon's turn.