Geon hurriedly wrapped up his performance and listened to Eric's whole story. Eric left him with words to lead the band and to immerse himself in the joy of blues before returning to the hospital. Geon, unable to hold Eric back any longer as he struggled to catch a taxi, entered the club where Sambo was waiting for him at the counter.
"Kay, can we talk for a moment?"
Though Geon felt averse to Sambo, he felt the need to converse with him because of Eric's words, so he followed Sambo to his office. Upon arriving, Sambo offered him a seat on the sofa.
"Coffee?"
"Yes, please. An Americano."
Sambo smiled warmly as he prepared the hot coffee, placing it on the table before sitting across Geon. Sambo silently observed Geon for a while, and just as Geon started to feel uneasy, Sambo began to speak.
"Eric seems to think highly of you. He must have taken quite a liking to you."
As Geon glared at him without a word, Sambo shrugged and said,
"Oh, you don't need to be so hostile. I'm ready to talk now."
When Geon looked puzzled, Sambo continued,
"You think of me as a money-grubbing demon, don't you? That I care about nothing but money, like a pig satisfied with just earning?"
Geon coldly responded,
"I won't deny it."
Sambo, taken aback by Geon's blunt words, covered his eyes with his hands and looked up at the ceiling.
"Sigh, I admit, it seemed that way. You're right. I did live like that for a while. But what if there was a clear reason for it? What if it was all to fulfill B.B. King's will?"
Geon's icy gaze didn't waver as he scrutinized Sambo's sincerity.
"I don't know what B.B. King's will entailed, but I'm sure he wouldn't have wanted you to do anything wrong. Assuming his will involved money, you must have needed to earn it."
"Exactly."
"It's difficult to earn money, I understand. You have a remarkable talent for it. However, I can't comprehend why you would run a music business without respecting the musicians' music. If it was just about earning money, you could have pursued a different line of work."
Sambo leaned back, crossing his arms.
"Hmm. What if the operation of this club was included in B.B. King's will?"
Geon continued to glare silently. After a standoff, Sambo raised his hands in surrender.
"Alright, I lose. What did Eric tell you?"
"He said you would support me as the main act of a band and that I must perform starting next Saturday."
Sambo smirked,
"Do you think you can handle it?"
Geon straightened up, supporting himself on his knees.
"I must. I don't want to lose to you."
Sambo, with an air of arrogance, replied,
"Is that so? Then off you go. Time is short. I'll send the band members to the rehearsal room by two o'clock tomorrow."
After Geon looked down at Sambo and then left, Sambo's expression turned sad as he watched the door slam shut. He looked up at B.B. King's photo, sighed, and looked back at the door.
"I'm sorry, Kay. I'll apologize once everything is over."
The next day, although it was a Sunday and Geon was in a hurry, he went straight to the rehearsal room after finishing his morning work at the zoo. With three hours still to go before the scheduled time, he sat alone in the rehearsal room choosing songs.
"'Change The World' would be the main track, but let's start with 'I Shot The Sheriff' for its pure blues vibe. We can finish with 'Badge'. These three songs will be our battle."
As Geon played his guitar along to Eric's music, he didn't notice two hours had passed until he looked at the clock.
"There's still an hour left until the band members arrive. They mentioned an electric guitar, bass guitar, and drum trio, all about my age. Are they students?"
While Geon continued to play, three black men entered the rehearsal room. Surprised at the sight of the first man, Geon exclaimed,
"What!? Samuel Chandler, is that you?"
Recognizing Samuel from the Juilliard studio class where he played the bass guitar, Geon energetically shook the hand Samuel extended.
"It's been a while, Kay."
"Are you a band member? Do you work here while attending school?"
Samuel, still holding Geon's hand, replied,
"Yes, all three of us are Juilliard students. We perform here as part-time musicians."
As Samuel began to introduce the other members, he pulled Geon's hand toward the rest.
"In this corner, wearing a hat, we have Blake, who is in charge of the electric guitar. He's a composition major at Juilliard but originally a guitarist, so you can count on his skills. And the chubby guy over there is Carson. He's our drummer, also from Juilliard's drum department. Including me, we're a three-man band."
As Geon shook hands with Blake and Carson, he suggested,
"We're about the same age, so how about we keep it casual? Just call me Kay. I'll call you Blake and Carson. Sam, you too, speak freely."
Although Blake and Carson seemed a bit intimidated by Kay's fame, they quickly warmed up to him as young men do and started chatting excitedly. Being acquainted with Samuel already made it easier for them to become friends. Sitting on the rehearsal room floor with the three guys, Geon shared the three songs he had chosen and said,
"Actually, we only have 6 days left, so I thought we'd focus on just these three songs. I think these would be great, but what do you think?"
After reviewing Geon's song list, Blake sighed in relief and with a brighter expression said,
"Phew, I was worried, but this is a relief because they're famous songs. Being Juilliard students, we're well aware of your genius, Kay. We were concerned about facing some unheard-of, complex old songs, but we've practiced these three before, so if we work on our harmony, it should be totally doable."
Carson and Samuel nodded in agreement, their expressions brightening. Relieved that everyone agreed, Geon smiled and said,
"I'm glad you're all on board. I was worried in case you didn't like my choices."
With a grin, Samuel added,
"Sambo told us to follow your lead no matter what. Even if you had chosen different songs, we weren't planning to object. I might have grumbled behind your back, haha. Honestly, I lost sleep over 'Asturias' for two weeks straight last time."
Hearing Sambo's name from Samuel's mouth made Geon's expression harden.
"I feel sick whenever we talk about that money-grubbing scoundrel. Haven't you guys been wronged by him? Like, worked to the bone without proper payment?"
Surprised, Samuel asked,
"What? Are you talking about Sambo?"
Geon crossed his arms and puffed his cheeks,
"Yeah, that money-obsessed pig."
Unlike Samuel's shocked expression, Blake and Carson glared at Geon. Sensing the mood shift, Geon stuttered,
"Why... why are you looking at me like that?"
The usually quiet Carson stood up and said,
"I can't work with you, Kay."
Geon looked up at Carson in confusion as Blake also got up,
"I feel the same. Sorry, let's talk another time."
As Geon watched them in silence, Samuel grabbed their arms and said,
"Hey, what's going on? Let's sit down and talk. It seems like Kay has some misunderstandings. Let's sort it out through dialogue."
The two stood silently, looking away. Samuel turned to Geon, sitting down, and asked,
"Kay, did something happen with Sambo? He's not the person you're making him out to be."
Geon looked at Samuel with confusion and disbelief as Samuel explained,
"All three of us are from very poor backgrounds. If it weren't for Sambo, we wouldn't even dream of attending Juilliard. I grew up without a father, and my mother worked in a restaurant raising five kids. Blake is an orphan, and Carson's father is disabled, his mother ran away when he was young. Thanks to Sambo's sponsorship since we were kids, we're able to study at Juilliard."
Geon's eyes widened in shock,
"What did you say?"
Samuel, looking down at Geon, confirmed,
"Just like I said. And it's not just us. A kid from our neighborhood, whose father was a drug addict, is now at Harvard, all because Sambo supported him since childhood. To us, Sambo is a hero, still supporting us with band gigs even when it's not necessary, just so we can have some living expenses."
Geon gaped at them, stunned, "Sambo... a hero?"
As Carson stood up, he declared, "He's a benefactor to me and my dad. I don't want to work with someone who insults him, Kay."
Blake, arms crossed, looked down at Geon, "Calling Sambo a money-grubbing pig? Maybe from the outside, that's how it appears. But Kay, don't you think it's right to have at least a basic understanding before judging someone?"
Confused and speechless, Geon watched as Samuel, Blake, and Carson decided to step out for some air, promising to return later for further discussion. Left alone, Geon remained in a daze, his mind racing with the revelations about Sambo's true character and his own misjudgments.
Alone in the practice room, Geon couldn't hide his bewildered expression.
"Did that money ghost sponsor them? All three of them? No, including the kid Samuel mentioned went to Harvard, makes it four?"
Geon recalled the face of the chubby Sambo, hidden behind sunglasses in arrogance.
"With that face?"
Geon shook his head vigorously, thinking.
"What's going on here? There's no reason for Samuel, Blake, or Carson to lie. It's a fact, then could it be that the reason they're so desperately trying to make money is to sponsor the kids?"
Geon remembered the conversation he had in Sambo's office the day before.
"Then, BB King's will... was to operate the club to sponsor underprivileged kids?"
Geon sat there, clutching his head.
"Damn... did I make a mistake with Mr. Sambo?"
As Geon sat on the floor, clutching his head, three young men returned to the practice room. Samuel quietly opened the door and chuckled upon seeing Geon with his head down on the floor.
"Kay. Came back after calming the kids down. What are you doing on the floor?"
Geon looked up at the three of them, quickly stood up, and said,
"Sorry! I think I judged Mr. Sambo based on what I saw without really knowing him."
Blake and Carson relaxed their expressions upon hearing Geon's sincere apology and sat down. Blake said to Geon,
"Don't sit on the floor. Let's sit on chairs and talk, Kay."
After arranging chairs for the four of them, Geon sat down and said,
"Can you tell me more in detail? If you know anything else, that is."
Samuel crossed his legs and said,
"Apparently, when BB King passed away, he left the club to Mr. Sambo, with a will to continue sponsoring poor black kids, which he had been doing all his life. But as the club's revenue started dropping without BB King, it became hard to sponsor, so Mr. Sambo is trying to make money with all his might, to earn sponsorship funds."
Geon sighed heavily and covered his eyes with his hands, saying,
"Ah, I didn't know that... What should I do? I said harsh words to Mr. Sambo."
Carson spoke up,
"You can't take back words once said, but you can apologize. Take the chance and do apologize. He's a good man."
As Geon nodded silently with his eyes covered, Samuel gave him some time before pulling out a bass guitar, saying,
"Come on, we don't have much time. Let's practice quickly. Get your instruments ready."
Geon, with his eyes still covered, rested his chin on his hands for a while, thinking. Upon seeing Blake connecting his electric guitar, Geon asked,
"Hey... have you guys eaten lunch?"
Blake shook his head, saying,
"No, not yet. Why? Do you want to eat first?"
Geon rolled his eyes while resting his chin on his hands, saying,
"Then, how about we go out for a meal? I think we might need to change the song."
Samuel looked surprised,
"What? This song is perfect as it is. Why the sudden change? If we switch songs now, we won't have enough time to practice."
Geon stroked his chin, saying,
"Artists convey their hearts through paintings, and musicians through music... right?"
Samuel looked at Blake and Carson, puzzled, but they both shrugged. After thinking for a while in a hunched position with his chin rested on his hands, Geon said,
"Let's go eat. I'll have it sorted by then. Sorry for being fickle."
After Samuel sighed, he, along with Blake and Carson, left the practice room. Geon didn't watch them leave; instead, he continued to ponder with his chin rested on his hands.
'I don't want to convey a one-dimensional thought through a song filled with apologies.'
Geon messed with his hair, now tangled like a bird's nest, thinking,
'Mr. Sambo must always be missing BB King, right? Let's do two of BB King's songs and one of Eric's.'
Having organized his thoughts, Geon plugged in his earphones and started listening to BB King's music. He was intoxicated by the bluesy and sticky sound for a while with his eyes closed. When he opened his eyes, he saw the three young men sitting in front of him. Surprised, Geon removed his earphones and asked,
"Huh? When did you get back? Have you already finished eating?"
Blake chuckled,
"You've been like this for two hours."
"Two hours?"
"Yeah, that's after we ate and came back. What were you listening to that got you so absorbed?"
Geon looked at the clock on the wall with a bewildered expression. It was just past 5:30 PM. He looked at the ear
phones in his hand and said,
"I thought only about twenty minutes had passed..."
Samuel, who had been sitting for a while, stretched his back and said,
"So, have you decided on the song? We have to leave for a part-time job this afternoon. Let's just decide on the song and part ways for today. But, make sure to memorize the scores by heart even if it means staying up all night."
Geon, unknowingly stiff from staying in the same position for a long time, stretched his joints and laughed,
"The good news is I'm only changing two songs, leaving one of Eric Clapton's as it is."
Blake and Samuel's faces brightened. Geon smiled at their expressions,
"Let's do the rest with BB King's songs. We'll perform the songs of the person Mr. Sambo misses the most."
Samuel asked with a worried look,
"Which songs are you thinking of? Playing BB King's music is tough. If we can't do it right, we might just end up being ridiculed."
Geon showed them his smartphone screen,
"Well, I'm thinking of 'The Thrill is Gone' and 'Ghetto Woman.' For Eric Clapton's music, 'Change The World.'"
Blake recalled the tune of 'The Thrill is Gone' and nodded,
"It's a tough song, but I'm a blues maniac, so I've practiced it. But are you okay, Kay? I'm not sure about your skills, but BB King's music needs to have that bluesy stickiness to it, or it'll just be mediocre."
Carson also nodded,
"The drums will be fine. Like Blake said, Kay, you might be the toughest."
As all three looked at Geon, he grinned,
"Don't worry. This mission is approved by Professor Sharon, so I don't have to go to school. I don't work part-time, so I'll have time to practice, assuming it's just these three songs."
Samuel clapped his hands and stood up,
"Great! Then, let's wrap up for today, and everyone memorize the scores by tomorrow! The one who doesn't memorize buys dinner!"
"What if everyone memorizes?"
"Then, why are you asking? Let's go! Kay, practice well!"
Samuel waved his hand and left the practice room with the two young men. Geon, holding his smartphone, glared at BB King's album jacket displayed on the screen with fiery eyes.
"I'll catch up to you somehow, BB King."
**
Sambo was already on edge on the fifth day, not because of the club but because of the band that hadn't shown a single hair. He had changed the rolling banner of the signboard and the schedule on the homepage two days ago, fearing any issues. Sitting alone in his office, Sambo puffed on a cigar and looked at the club's homepage on his laptop screen.
The homepage featured a banner with "B.B King's Club" written in glittering gold letters, below which was an image of Geon playing the White Falcon. Unlike the musician introduction page at the bottom of the homepage, this banner popped up in full screen as soon as one entered the homepage. Geon's image was cut where the White Falcon was visible, and below it, in yellow letters, flashed "Saturday night 08:00."
Sambo, puffing on his cigar with a worried expression, yelled towards the outside,
"Lillian! Come in for a moment!"
A few seconds later, the waitress who first greeted Geon at the club peeked in through the door.
"Yes, boss?"
"Lillian, any news from Kay's band?"
Lillian smiled slightly and said,
"I'm not sure? I haven't heard anything."
"Samuel, Blake, Carson aren't answering their phones. Nothing's wrong, is it?"
"They're probably busy practicing. Wouldn't the practice room manager have reported if something happened?"
"Ugh... It's the day after tomorrow, and they're nowhere to be seen. I'm going insane with worry. Alright, sorry to bother you when you're busy."
"No problem, boss!"
Lillian gave a fresh smile and winked before leaving. Sambo turned his gaze between a photo of BB King on the wall and the wall clock, showing a tense expression. Taking a deep puff of his cigar, Sambo exhaled a thick, heavy smoke, saying,
"I'm not expecting a stellar performance, just no problems. Please, kids."
Sunday night, 7 PM.
'A Decade of Soul,' on stage since 6:30 PM, danced and sang merrily but were surprised by the endless influx of guests.
'What's with all these guests? It wasn't this packed when Kay played with our band. Is it because Kay is singing? It's really overflowing.'
Tease, too, was surprised while singing,
'My goodness! There's not even space to stand, let alone sit. Won't the
second-floor railing collapse with so many people clinging to it?'
Tease swallowed hard, seeing the hall packed with people standing, holding beers, making it difficult even to go to the bathroom. Sambo, checking the situation from the counter where the stage was visible, repeatedly looked at his wristwatch, sweating coldly.
'It's two hours before the show, and they're still not in touch! What's happening, guys!'
As Sambo checked his watch every three minutes, one of the security guards waiting on the first floor ran down and whispered to Sambo,
"Boss, there are too many teenage girls outside. It looks like at least a thousand. What should we do? Even if Kay comes, it'll be hard to get through."
"What? Oh no... Let's go up."
Sambo waddled up to the first floor to look outside, where he saw an enormous number of teenage girls sitting on the ground or walls, looking around. Sambo took a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the sweat off his head, pacing back and forth in agitation.
'Ugh~'
As his phone rang, Sambo stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone, seeing the name "Samuel Chandler" on the screen.
After looking around, Sambo went to a corner to answer the call, speaking in a small but high-pitched voice,
"Samuel! What's going on? Why haven't you answered until now?"
"Ah, sorry, Mr. Sambo. We've been practicing for two nights straight. We're on our way now."
"Don't come this way! If you come through the main entrance, you won't be able to get in! Do you know the basement restaurant next door? Come there. It's connected to our kitchen through a side door. Got it? I'll go there."
"Uh? Oh... okay. See you there."
After hanging up, Sambo glanced around to make sure no one had overheard, sighing in relief.