Carlos had rented the Lincoln Center again for Geon's last project. Given the harsh winter, there was no need to go far, and the Lincoln Center's studio had relatively excellent facilities. It was a decision made because the equipment at the Lincoln Center was sufficient even for practice, not just professional recording sessions.
Immediately after being discharged, Geon, accompanied by Kiska, returned home and headed to the studio where he had left some of his belongings. Since Geon had not yet completed the arrangement of the music scores, the Montana members seemed to be taking a break as the practice room was empty. Geon felt a bit chilly in the deserted practice room, so he raised the temperature of the individual boiler installed in each room before entering the recording booth. Looking at the empty staves placed on the music stand, Geon sat down on the floor instead of the available chairs and looked down at the staves.
"I was naive. Under the pretense of expressing the anger inherent within me, I only created a piece resenting my father, or rather, resenting all parents in the world. It would have invaded and grown within people who were not actually suffering from real violence, causing them to express their unresolved feelings towards their parents through anger. Fortunately, the score I edited in my sleep contained feelings of love-hate, avoiding becoming a social issue."
Geon glanced at the wall clock. Since the hospital always processed discharges in the morning, he realized it was just past lunchtime and stood up.
"I need to reflect on my anger. Asking to listen to a piece that merely expresses my feelings is musical arrogance. I only tell my story, but the listener empathizes and acts on it."
After a conversation and reflection alone in the drawing room with the demons he met in his dreams, Geon had matured slightly. With no bag brought along, a gang member quickly approached Geon as he stepped out in front of the Lincoln Center.
"Are you leaving already? Are you going home?"
Contrary to the expectation that Byung-jun and Kiska would have gone home together, Geon saw that more than ten gang members were still guarding around the Lincoln Center and shook his head with a smile.
"No, I'm thinking of visiting the school library. I won't be out for a few hours, so why don't you go and have your meal?"
The gang member stood next to Geon and gestured to other members waiting at a distance.
"We will escort you to the school entrance. Let's go."
"Ah, thank you."
While chatting briefly with the gang member, people who recognized him began to gather around.
"Kay!"
"Look! I told you we might see him if we hang around near Juilliard!"
"Ahh, look here, Kay!"
Geon felt fortunate not to have sent the gang members away immediately as he exchanged smiles with the people he made eye contact with. While some tried to reach out and touch Geon, a gang member discreetly showed the gun inside his coat, causing them to step back. In Korea, people might be skeptical of bodyguards carrying real guns, but in America, it was common for bodyguards to be armed, so people just thought that Kay deserved such high-level security due to his popularity and followed him to a distance in front of Juilliard.
Standing in front of the school, Geon waved back at the cheering crowd and posed for photos taken by a few people. He whispered to a gang member.
"I might not come out for about three hours, maybe more. Go have your meal and rest a bit."
The gang member glanced at Geon over his sunglasses and said.
"We will leave one person here. If you need anything, please tell him."
"Thanks."
Geon smiled as he entered the school. The students standing in groups in the school hallway stopped their conversations and stared as Geon passed by, but he continued straight to the library. With the school focusing on practical studies and it being vacation, only a few students filled the library. A librarian who recognized him caused a brief disturbance but Geon smoothly entered the library and found a few books on psychology discussing anger, heading to the most secluded spot.
Intending to sit down, Geon pulled out a chair but pushed it back in quietly after seeing a female student across from him studying with earphones. Not wanting to disturb her if she looked up, he climbed up onto a slightly wider windowsill behind a pillar, hid behind the pillar, and opened a book. Geon, who had a fearsome concentration, was soon lost in the books, and hours passed in no time. Without once lifting his head or shifting his position, Geon finished reading two books and closed them when there were no more pages to turn.
Looking out at Manhattan's winter through the window, Geon recalled the content of the books.
"Anger needs to be controlled. But if anger is not released, it becomes pent-up and turns into illness. Therefore, expressing anger is necessary. However, there are many times
when the object of anger is too vast for direct expression."
Feeling stiff in his back, Geon stretched and shook his shoulders.
"I didn't know there was something called the Oedipus complex. This is why one should study. I've been too caught up with music all this time; I should read more."
Geon climbed down from the windowsill, gathered his books, and returned them to the shelves before passing by the sleeping librarian and leaving the school. Opening the school door, Geon was surprised to see the sky darkening and asked a gang member waiting for him.
"Um.. how long have I been inside?"
The gang member looked weary as he replied.
"Just over five hours."
"Oh.. I'm sorry. You must have been waiting in the cold. Let's go back to the practice room."
"Understood. This way, please."
Returning to the practice room, Geon looked at the clock and gave an apologetic smile.
"I might stay here overnight. You can go back and come back tomorrow."
The gang member, whose nose was red from the cold, shook his head resolutely.
"That would get me killed by Miroslav. I'll rest nearby."
Geon felt sorry.
"It must be very cold..."
"That's fine, go about your business."
Thinking for a moment in the practice room, Geon chuckled.
"Come to think of it, practicing here or at home makes no difference. Let's go home today."
Watching Geon walk to the waiting car, the gang member hurriedly said.
"You don't need to do this because of us."
Geon waved his hand without looking back.
"No, no, I want to go home. Let's go!"
Geon himself opened the car door and got in, while the gang member stood watching him, shaking his head but with a smile appearing on his face. After a while, they arrived at Red Castle, and as Geon got out in front of the annex, Miroslav approached.
"Is it really okay for you to be discharged this soon?"
Geon grinned and slammed the car door with force.
"It's okay, I just had a severe headache."
Miroslav looked Geon up and down slowly and then said.
"Could you perhaps tell the boss about it later?"
Geon widened his eyes and replied.
"I saw Gregory yesterday. Is there something wrong?"
Miroslav looked towards the main building where the lights were on with a distant look in his eyes, then turned to Geon with a complex expression and struggled to speak.
"I just thought the boss might need someone to talk to."
Sensing something was up, Geon scrutinized Miroslav's eyes and said.
"Well, shall we go now?"
"Would you do that?"
"It's not a big deal, and it's right next door, haha"
"Then I'll be in your debt."
Following Miroslav's lead to Gregory's study, Geon waited for him to open the door. After a moment of hesitation at the door, Miroslav turned to Geon.
"You go in today."
Having never opened Gregory's study door himself, Geon looked puzzled but then nodded and knocked on the door.
Knock, knock.
"Come in."
As Geon opened the door, he saw Gregory's side profile leaning against the window, smoking a cigar, and with his arms crossed. Surprised by Gregory's lonely and unfamiliar appearance, Geon stopped and stood there as Gregory, with a cigar in his mouth, turned his head and approached.
"Oh, I heard you were discharged. Come on, don't just stand there, have a seat."
Geon sat down on the single-seater sofa where he always sat when meeting Gregory.
"Kiska?"
Gregory grimaced and pointed outside.
"She's probably waiting for you in the annex."
"Ah... haha, I see."
Feeling something was off from Gregory's expression, Geon cautiously asked.
"Um.. is there something wrong?"
A bitter smile lingered on Gregory's lips. After pondering for a while with his arms crossed, Gregory finally spoke.
"I'll be leaving some matters here to Miroslav and going back to my hometown for a while."
"Really? Oh, are you going on vacation?"
"Um, you could say that."
"Your hometown... is it in Russia?"
"No, Georgia."
"Georgia... you mean the small country above Turkey?"
"That's right, it became independent after the Soviet Union was dissolved."
"Ah... the Soviet Union... it was called that when Gregory was born."
"Yes, it's also the birthplace of wine and Stalin's hometown."
"Wine originated there? I thought it was France."
"Haha, many people think that."
"I'll be taking Kiska with me," said Gregory after a pause, his gaze lingering on Geon.
Geon nodded in understanding, "I might be going to the UK soon anyway. I have a performance there. It's only for a week, but I'll return before Kiska is back from vacation. When will you be coming back?"
Gregory's expression hardened. Geon, seeing his expression change, cautiously asked, "Will you be gone long?"
Gregory looked at Geon, then back out the window, his arms still crossed. "I might not come back."
Geon took a moment to process this, then nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of the statement.
Geon returned to the annex and, after seeing Byung-jun and Kiska playing through the window, stood at the door lost in thought. He seemed unable to move forward, scratching the floor with his foot, before turning to sit on a white swing in the garden. Sitting there, he dropped his gaze to the ground, and the conversation he had just had with Gregory came to mind.
"What do you mean, 'he won't come back'?"
Up until then, Geon had thought Gregory was just making a cruel joke. However, seeing his serious expression, Geon adjusted his posture and asked, "Tell me, Gregory. What happened?"
Gregory detached himself from leaning on the window and approached Geon. He briefly sat on the sofa, looking up at Geon, who was now looking down at him, and said with a bowed head, "You see, I was born under my father who was raising horses in Georgia. At that time, our village was very peaceful but also a place with clear limitations on what a boy full of dreams could do. I could only follow in my father's footsteps, raising horses or farming."
Gregory picked up a cigar from the table.
"I was fifteen. I heard on the radio that there was a big demand for workers at a car factory in Voronezh. There were no cars in our village back then, it was too rural. But I had seen cars pass by occasionally. It was fascinating. I secretly left home with a vague dream of working at a car factory."
Gregory put the cigar in his mouth and picked up a lighter.
"My parents probably looked for me a lot. But I never returned home, not even when I heard that my father had passed away. Of course, I did send some money to my mother."
Gregory lit his cigar. He puffed on it for a moment and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.
"I just walked. I looked at the map and walked through the night, even hitching rides on passing carts. It took a week just to reach a train station, something I had never seen before. With the money I had stolen, I took a train to Voronezh. But there was no one willing to hire a young kid like me.
Being fifteen, I didn't realize how much economic depression the Soviet Union was going through at that time."
Removing the cigar from his mouth and twirling it, Gregory continued, "There was no money and no job for me. But I had to survive stubbornly, even if it meant doing bad things. Working in the back alleys taught me that once you look weak to others, it's over. I became colder and more ruthless than anyone else."
Geon, listening intently with a serious expression, saw Gregory come back to the sofa.
"You might guess, but I've walked a rough path all this time. I've killed over a hundred people with my own hands, haha."
Gregory spread his hands and looked at them with a self-deprecating smile. Turning his palm over, he examined his hand and clenched his fist.
"There was only once in my life that I regretted walking this path. Otherwise, I've always been proud that a street urchin like me became the boss of the Red Mafia, one of the natural gas mafias."
Geon nodded as if he understood.
"It must have been the day Kiska's mother passed away."
Gregory nodded weakly and smiled.
"Yes, that's right. After she died, I painfully killed those who had harmed her one by one. But I couldn't escape the emptiness of losing her. Days passed where I couldn't live without alcohol. For over a year, I lived with alcohol every day. Then one day, I saw my daughter Kiska playing alone, drawing pictures."
Gregory put the cigar back in his mouth and took a deep inhale.
"From that day, I swore to give everything to my daughter instead of my wife. I tried to provide whatever Kiska wanted, but she never asked for anything and just treated me with indifferent silence. No matter what I tried, there was no improvement, and soon after, I met you."
Gregory placed his hand on Geon's shoulder and smiled.
"Now Kiska can express herself, she often laughs and cries. She's different from before meeting you, and I deeply appreciate how much her condition has improved because of you."
"It's nothing, Gregory. I really haven't done much."
Gregory chuckled and patted Geon's shoulder.
"Even if you deny it, the truth is the truth."
As Gregory walked away, Geon grabbed his wrist.
"What do you mean by 'he might not return'?"
Gregory looked down at Geon's hand on his wrist, then turned away. As Gregory naturally walked away, Geon let go of his wrist and watched his retreating figure. Gregory's usually proud shoulders seemed somehow drooped. He went to the window and looked down at the lit annex.
"I recently had my second big regret about my job," Gregory said as he gazed down at the illuminated annex.
Geon looked at him with a sympathetic expression.
"Is it because it mustn't be revealed that you're Kiska's father?"
"Haha, yes, that's it. It's already becoming an obstacle to my daughter's future. Can you imagine? A father who can't even properly greet the doctor taking care of his hospitalized daughter."
Geon's eyes welled up, touched by Gregory's heartfelt pain. Gregory smiled seeing Geon's saddened face.
"Ah, don't misunderstand. I'm not leaving to block my daughter's future. That's not my intention at all."
"I never thought that, but why are you planning to leave for so long?"
Gregory opened a desk drawer and took out a dusty frame, blowing off the dust.
"Haha, I have a mother too. Would you like to see?"
Gregory handed him the frame which contained a photo of a weathered, elderly country woman smiling brightly. After dusting off the old frame, Gregory couldn't take his eyes off the photo.
"This is the only picture of my mother that I have. I haven't seen her since I was fifteen."
Placing the photo on the desk, Gregory continued.
"I've come to realize it's wrong to expect from your offspring the respect of a parent if you haven't fulfilled your duty as a child yourself. That's why I'm going. To show her granddaughter and to spend whatever time she has left with her."
"I see..."
Gregory stood up, smiling.
"I'll just tell Kiska that I'm going on a trip to see her grandmother. Will you tell her the same?"
Geon looked out the window for a moment and then nodded.
"Understood."
"Ah, even if we're not here, keep staying at this place. I'll speak to Miroslav about it. You'll be able to receive the same security as before."
"Alright, I'll think about it and let you know."
"Right, it's the day of your discharge and here we are discussing such heavy matters. Go rest now; Kiska is waiting for you."
Geon stood up to leave the room, then suddenly turned around.
"Was my song in any way the reason for your decision?"
Gregory looked intently at Geon, then chuckled and shook his head.
"No."
Sitting on the swing, Geon recalled his conversation with Gregory and heard Kiska laughing uproariously, playing with Byung-jun. He sighed.
'Maybe I'll never see her again?'
For some reason, his legs felt wobbly. Wanting to spend even a minute more with Kiska, whom he might never see again soon, he struggled to get up from the swing. After a long effort, he finally stood and opened the door to the annex. There, he saw Kiska sitting on Byung-jun's belly on the sofa, pushing Byung-jun's face away with her feet and laughing.
A happy expression crossed Geon's face as Kiska tightly hugged his legs. Looking down at Kiska, who was looking up at him, he quickly averted his gaze and spoke without making eye contact.
"Kiska, having fun?"
Feeling the nod from the little girl holding his legs, but unable to meet her eyes, Geon took off his coat and said,
"Yeah, I'll go take a quick wash."
As Geon started walking with some effort, Kiska released his legs and watched his retreating back with her big eyes. Entering the bathroom, Kiska followed him and stood in front of the closed bathroom door, her head bowed. Watching this, Byung-jun rushed over and scooped up Kiska, then yelled toward the closed door.
"You damn kid! Kiska has been waiting all day for you, you should have hugged her at least once!"
Seeing Kiska's disappointed face, Byung-jun cursed more but then remembered Geon had been discharged today and patted Kiska's back as they sat down on the sofa.
"Kay was discharged today, he's been really sick, you understand, right?"
Although they sat together, Kiska leaned backward on the sofa backrest, staring only at the closed bathroom door. When the door opened and Geon emerged with a bright smile, Kiska's face lit up.
"Ah! Washing my face feels like being reborn! Come here, Kiska! Let's play!"
Her face brightened, Kiska kicked Byung-jun's face as she leaped from the sofa.
"Ouch!!!"
Byung-jun collapsed, but Kiska, paying him no mind, ran to Geon and beamed with joy.
"Phew! My Kiska! Did you have dinner?"
Geon smiled, making eye contact with the little girl. Kiska looked puzzled for a moment and reached out her small hand to touch Geon's cheek, then glanced
at the open bathroom. Geon turned his head to see what Kiska was looking at and asked curiously.
"Why? Do you want to go to the bathroom?"
Kiska looked back at Geon without responding. Just as her mouth began to move, Byung-jun, clutching his face, came over and said,
"Kiska! Even though I played with you all day when he wasn't here, kicking his face is too much. Geez, oh? Geon, what's with your face?"
Geon, holding Kiska, looked surprised as he felt his own face.
"What's wrong, is something on it? I just washed my face."
Byung-jun put his hand, large as a pot lid, on Geon's cheek with a serious look.
"Maybe you really should go back to the hospital? You've been crying in the bathroom, haven't you? Look at how swollen your eyes are. Are you in a lot of pain? Should we go back to the hospital now?"