WCP 27

chapter 27

The lobby, with its floors gleaming as if oiled and decorations that screamed luxury, looked like something straight out of a high-end department store. From the 8th to the 10th floor, where the concert hall was located, the extravagant scenery made Song Min-woo quietly marvel.

“This must have cost a fortune.”

It was obvious at a glance that a hefty budget had been thrown into the concert of the maestro, Zimmermann.

‘Well, to be fair, it wasn’t much different back in my day either.’

Even in Chopin’s time, theater managers would overspend on stages just to impress him. There weren’t many who didn’t do it. A maestro’s concert always generated more revenue than one could imagine.

Tickets alone cost at least 70,000 won each, and depending on the seat, they could easily jump to 160,000 won. Assuming a sold-out performance, the revenue would run into hundreds of millions of won. On top of that, the theater would benefit from additional advertising effects beyond ticket sales.

‘Come to think of it… that did happen once.’

There had been a time when he held a small concert at a humble theater in Russia to support his persecuted homeland. When he later revisited that theater by chance, he was surprised—it had been renovated to the level of an opera house.

In any case, a maestro’s concert carried an extraordinary value beyond imagination.

‘By the way, Ji-hye really managed to get these tickets.’

Not just one, but three tickets—he must have spent a lot. And even aside from the cost, getting tickets for Zimmermann’s concert wasn’t an easy task.

He vaguely knew that Ji-hye’s family was well-off, but perhaps there was more to it. Of course, that wasn’t the immediate concern.

“…Who would’ve thought we’d get one more ticket?”

A few days ago, he had received a call from an unknown number. Half-suspicious, he answered and was startled to hear the elder’s voice.

-“Zimmermann has a gift waiting. Come by and collect it by tomorrow.”

How did they even get his number? Anyway, after that sudden call last night, he had gone straight to the elder’s shop in the morning and received the Zimmermann concert ticket.

‘He gave it so insistently I couldn’t even say I already had one.’

As mentioned earlier, a single ticket cost at least 70,000 won. Even if it was a gift, he couldn’t just discard it, so he had no choice but to accept it.

“Looking at what?”

“……”

A familiar, prickly voice spoke up.

It was none other than Song Min-woo’s younger sister, Song Ye-rim, two years his junior.

…How had things ended up like this?

At first, he had planned to give the extra ticket to their parents. But since they weren’t home, he decided to bring his idle younger sister instead…

‘…Who would’ve thought we wouldn’t exchange a single word the whole way here.’

They hadn’t been particularly close. He had thought that even without prior connections, circumstances could bring them closer—but that was a misjudgment.

‘I should’ve just politely declined.’

Though, given how insistently the elder had handed over the tickets, that wouldn’t have been possible.

Feeling awkward, Song Min-woo let out a quiet sigh. Yet, Ye-rim simply fiddled with her phone in silence.

“…I wonder when Ji-hye and Da-yoon will arrive.”

Perhaps with them here, the tension might ease. He glanced at the clock, but since he had arrived too early, there was still a long wait until the appointed time.

[Tap—]

“?”

Just as he wished the awkwardness would vanish, someone lightly tapped him on the shoulder.

Could it be that Ji-hye, arriving earlier than expected, was playing a prank?

Turning around with that hope, Song Min-woo saw it wasn’t Ji-hye.

“It seems you received the gift I sent, Mr. Song.”

“Zimmermann…?”

Why was the star of today’s concert wandering here at this hour? If people saw him, it could turn chaotic instantly. Not wanting to be trampled by Zimmermann’s fans, Song Min-woo cautiously asked:

“Is it okay for you to walk around like this?”

“No problem. With this hat on, no one can recognize me.”

Zimmermann answered with a casual smile. Looking around, Min-woo saw that indeed, nobody noticed him.

‘Is this like how foreigners often can’t distinguish between Asians?’

Even so, to Min-woo, Zimmermann stood out clearly—even from 50 meters away.

“By the way, I sent you only one ticket, so I didn’t expect you’d bring company.”

“Oh, I already had another ticket from a friend.”

“I see… Which seat will you be in?”

“J section.”

“Which seat in J?”

“Uh, I think seat 8…”

Why was he asking so specifically? Answering unconsciously, Song Min-woo looked at him, silently asking if there was a problem. But Zimmermann didn’t notice him and continued:

“And who will sit in the seat I gifted?”

“That will be my sister.”

“The one next to you?”

Song Min-woo nodded. Zimmermann then smiled broadly and extended his hand.

“Nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

Caught off guard, Ye-rim hesitantly shook his hand.

“Uh, hello. I’m Song Ye-rim…”

“Song Ye-rim… what a lovely name. I’m Zimmermann. You probably don’t know me.”

Probably not. Ye-rim had little interest in classical music. She had only come along because she couldn’t waste a 70,000-won ticket.

“I heard you’re the star of today’s concert.”

“Haha! Star, you say? I’m honored!”

…What a fresh sight. Ye-rim, usually sharp-tongued, was suddenly so polite—blushing, no less.

Min-woo was impressed, but also a bit bitter that her usual demeanor was reserved only for him.

“Since I’ve received such an honor, I should repay it. Would you like to see my waiting room while you wait?”

“Excuse me?”

A chance to see the waiting room of a maestro? Song Min-woo’s curiosity peaked.

The waiting room of a top modern classical pianist—what would it look like?

Min-woo immediately nodded.

‘Wait… what about Ye-rim?’

He was fine with seeing it, but his sister might not be interested.

“I’m fine, but you, Ye-rim?”

“I’ll… just go look around the department store below.”

Of course. She probably didn’t find the waiting room that meaningful. Or perhaps she just didn’t want to be with her brother.

Min-woo sighed inwardly, watching her leave via the escalator. Today, he missed his sister Emilia even more.

Inside the concert hall, the waiting room was less crowded than expected.

Following Zimmermann, Min-woo quietly surveyed the nearly empty room.

“No staff around?”

“They’re probably busy preparing the stage.”

Ah, all hands were on the stage. That made sense—after all, the piano is more important than the pianist during a concert.

‘The waiting room is surprisingly modest.’

For a world-class pianist, it was quite simple—except for one thing.

Min-woo’s gaze landed on the one standout item: a grand piano. Not just any piano, but a German-made S, a top-tier masterpiece.

‘Zimmermann always brings his own piano for concerts.’

He had read about it online, but how it fit in this small waiting room was a mystery.

“Zimmermann, is this the piano you’ll use for the concert?”

“No, this is just for warming up before the show.”

…Just to warm up, he brought a grand piano here. That alone showed Zimmermann’s stature.

“Do you want to see the concert piano?”

“No, not really…”

“Then follow me. There’s still time before it starts.”

Zimmermann gestured for him to follow.

‘…I feel bad asking him to go this far.’

Yet, he couldn’t refuse, so he followed.

“Ah, I almost forgot to thank you, Mr. Song.”

“Huh? Thank me?”

Zimmermann suddenly paused while walking to express gratitude, leaving Min-woo bewildered.

“Thanks to your sheet music, Mr. Yun fulfilled my request.”

“The elder?”

“Yes. Even I was impressed. It felt like witnessing the feat of Züsmaier completing Mozart’s Requiem.”

Such extravagant praise made Min-woo nervous.

“That’s too much praise.”

“Hahaha, I’m obliged to thank you, Mr. Song.”

For a moment, a hint of sadness crossed Zimmermann’s face.

“Actually, Mr. Yun’s piano means a lot to me. As a child, it made me reflect on my arrogance.”

Zimmermann, known for his humility, once had an arrogant phase. Min-woo listened intently.

“When I won the Polonaise Prize at the Chopin Competition, I looked down on Asian classical music.”

“Zimmermann?”

The same maestro who always praised Asian, especially Korean, pianists? Hard to believe.

“One day, I ended up giving a concert in Korea. I interfered with every stage light, stubbornly trying to control everything.”

A European pianist dismissing Asia’s classical scene—how frustrating must it have been for Korean staff?

“Of course, conflicts arose. And whether by mistake or karma, a minor issue occurred with the stage piano.”

“Wasn’t that a big problem…?”

Indeed, a problem with the piano itself. It was amazing this story hadn’t made the news.

“The person who fixed it was Mr. Yun.”

-Too noisy, go to the waiting room if you’re not going to complain in Korean.

A memory of what the elder might have said flashed in Min-woo’s mind.

“It was the first time I heard such piano sound. It corrected my arrogance overnight, with melodies I had never heard before.”

Zimmermann’s gaze drifted toward the corridor leading backstage to the stage.

“And that was the first and last time I could play Mr. Yun’s piano.”

He already knew what happened afterward: the elder had stopped being a tuner, along with the unfinished Pavane.

“But thanks to you, Mr. Song, I can play it again. How can I not be grateful?”

This was yet another thank-you from Zimmermann. But hearing the story, Min-woo accepted it humbly.

“So that’s the story.”

Walking down the corridor, they reached the stage. Beyond the dazzling lights, the piano and the tuner awaited.

“Hmm? You’re here early. Something happen?”

“Zimmermann said I could see the piano.”

“Do you want to try playing?”

“What? But…”

Min-woo glanced at Zimmermann, who simply smiled.

“Of course, Mr. Song. You might perform here soon too.”

“Fine. Go ahead and play.”

Both seemed intent on getting him to the piano.

Min-woo hesitated. Today, he was just an audience member. The piano alone was worth almost 200 million won, and this was Zimmermann’s concert piano.

‘If I mess up, it’d be a disaster… ugh.’

“Too bad, then.”

“Fine, don’t regret it later.”

Zimmermann and the elder seemed disappointed. But why did Zimmermann smile?

‘I feel uneasy.’

Instinctive anxiety passed through Min-woo, but a phone notification from Ji-hye distracted him.

[Almost there! Where are you?]

Perfect timing, as declining the piano offer would have been difficult.

“Then I’ll head out. My friends have arrived.”

“Go then, do as you wish. Don’t regret it later.”

With that, Min-woo quietly left the stage, feeling a lingering unease.