MDQ Ch 33

If I were to define Kang Kimoon in one word, he was a genius.

Since he first wrote lyrics when he was a high school student ten years ago, not a single song he composed or wrote in the following decade failed to become famous.

The reason I knew this in such detail was because I too liked his work.

Even if I were asked to list ten songs he had produced right now, I could rattle them off without hesitation.

In short, he was an object of admiration.

Though my own abilities were lacking and I couldn’t stand shoulder to shoulder with him, I wanted to follow in the footsteps he left behind.

That was why, after I began writing lyrics, I looked up many interviews and articles related to Kang Kimoon.

But compared to how long he had been active, there was almost no information to be found about him.

Unlike me, Kang Kimoon did not belong to any particular company, nor did he work exclusively with one.

He rarely appeared in the media, so even his face was not well-known.

‘An unfathomable existence, a genius shrouded in mystery.’

That was how the world described him.

And that very man had suddenly appeared before my eyes, even kindly offering me an empty room.

It felt like fate and coincidence, something that could only be explained as my brother’s doing.

“Really… are you Kang Kimoon-ssi?” I repeated his name in disbelief.

In contrast, Kang Kimoon simply nodded as if it were nothing.

“Why? Were you interested in me?”

“…”

“From the looks of it, you’re not a reporter.” He ended the conversation with a voice laced with a faint smile, “For now, rest. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

Without waiting for my reply, Kang Kimoon went upstairs to the second floor.

I stood frozen in a daze before belatedly stepping into any room at random. Just as he had said, the bedding was prepared so there was no issue with sleeping.

I ate some of the food the ladies on the bus had packed for me, washed up briefly, and lay down on the bed.

My stomach was full, the bedding smelled pleasant, and it was neither too cold nor too hot. For a house supposedly not well-kept, there wasn’t a speck of dust in the empty room.

Everything was so perfectly in order that it made me feel a little strange.

Just today, until the afternoon, only the worst things had happened one after another.

But simply because I had changed locations, it felt like my life had completely transformed.

Even though I had already experienced the pain of holding expectations only to be disappointed, I felt a budding hope that I might find happiness here.

‘Can I really be happy?’

Could I feel nothing but happiness, free of any other thoughts?

Could I avoid being hated here?

But the moment I closed my eyes, the things I had momentarily forgotten came back vividly. The people who had slandered me, and Jung Yohan, whom I had met today.

I rolled around in my mouth the words I hadn’t been able to bring myself to ask Jung Yohan.

‘Do you trust me?’

It was something I couldn’t voice aloud for fear of the answer.

More than hearing that he didn’t love me, I dreaded hearing that he didn’t trust me.

I had known from the beginning that he didn’t love me. But we had shared quite a lot of physical closeness. I believed we had a bond we hadn’t shared with anyone else. So I wanted Jung Yohan, at the very least, to trust me.

Yet instead of saying he trusted me, he had only said he would help, looking at me with pity. In his eyes, there wasn’t even a sliver of trust.

Perhaps that was why it had been easier for me to say I would put my feelings for him in order. No—actually, I really had to.

The moment I thought of Jung Yohan, my heart ached so much that I forced myself to change the subject in my mind. I didn’t need to drag up the things I had let go of, not when all I wanted was to stop suffering.

The moment I resolved that, Kang Kimoon came to mind. I grew curious about what kind of person he really was, this man called a peerless talent.

Unlike Park Chungrim, who openly radiated kindness, he didn’t show it outwardly, but he was clearly a kind person as well.

Would I be able to talk with him more tomorrow?

If he were to find out that I was the lyricist accused of plagiarizing his work, what expression would Kang Kimoon make?

He might easily withdraw the kindness he had shown a stranger and throw me out, regardless of what happened to me.

Putting myself in his shoes, it was a very likely outcome.

It seemed best not to reveal that I was a lyricist associated with Park Saebit.

Of course, I was innocent, but since this connection wouldn’t last long anyway, there was no need to bring up something that would only make us both uncomfortable.

By the time I thought this far, drowsiness began to creep over me.

The moment I managed to shake off the things that had suffocated me, sleep came rushing in.

And just like that, I slowly drifted off.

---

When I opened my eyes, the surroundings were bright. I stretched my arms wide.

Despite having fallen asleep in a strange place, my body felt refreshed. I hadn’t even dreamed.

It had been a long time since I’d slept this deeply. Simply leaving Seoul already made me feel healthier.

As usual, I reached for my phone to check the time, only to remember belatedly that it was turned off.

Waking early to check the members’ schedules, waking them up, sending schedules…

It was something I had done unfailingly for almost three years, and the fact that I no longer had to didn’t feel empty, but liberating.

From today on, I won’t have to feel the burden of rising early every morning.

While I was washing up in the bathroom across the hall, I heard voices murmuring beyond the closed door.

‘Is something going on?’

Since I hadn’t brought a change of clothes, I slipped back into what I had worn yesterday and stepped out.

Right away, I was confronted with the source of the noise.

“Young man! It’s nice to see you again.”

The ones greeting me were the same ladies from the bus yesterday.

They had visited Kang Kimoon’s house early in the morning and were huddled together on the living room sofa.

“Oh my, without your hat on, you’re so handsome! If I had a daughter, I’d introduce you.”

“But do you only have that one outfit? My son has some clothes at home. Should I bring them over? They’re practically new—he hardly wore them.”

“Have you eaten yet? Kimoon cooked, you’re going to eat with us, right?”

Bombarded with questions all at once, I felt awkward. I gave an embarrassed smile and replied, “Thank you… but there’s no need to bring me clothes. I don’t know how long I’ll even be here.”

“What? Why wouldn’t you need clothes? Don’t tell me you mean…”

At my answer, one of the ladies’ expressions suddenly turned grave.

Did she think I meant I didn’t need clothes because I was planning to die soon? Good grief.

It seemed the misunderstanding from yesterday was still lingering.

Maybe that was why they had stormed into Kang Kimoon’s house this morning, fearing I might go and kill myself.

Though the misunderstanding was absurd, at the same time, it warmed me. It had been so long since an elder had genuinely worried for me.

Meanwhile, my father, the very person who should be most concerned, hadn’t contacted me.

He must have known about my plagiarism scandal, about how I had become an abusive manager. After all, he followed every article and news story about Jung Yohan without fail.

And yet he didn’t worry about me. Truly unbelievable.

Did he even think of me as his child? Had he ever loved me, even once?

Even strangers who barely knew me looked at me with affection, yet the one person I had poured all my heart into didn’t care about me at all. The thought was bitter.

As my thoughts deepened, my eyes grew hot.

I didn’t want to cry anymore because of my father, but I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

I wiped at them where I stood.

Though I turned my head so as not to be caught crying, the ladies came over.

It seemed they noticed anyway. Their hands patting my back in comfort carried genuine warmth.

“Oh dear! This is terrible. What should we do?”

“Young man, just live. No matter how hard it is now, if you keep going, good things will happen eventually. But if you die, there’s really nothing.”

“Exactly. You need to live, eat delicious food, and enjoy yourself. While you’re here, don’t worry about money—just come eat at my house. I don’t even have a son, so I’d love to have a handsome one like you.”

…And the misunderstanding only deepened.

But since the tears kept falling, I couldn’t explain myself. I just wept loudly in the arms of these women whose names I didn’t even know.

After some time, I finally managed to stop crying, and belated embarrassment rushed in.

Rubbing at my reddened eyes, I bowed to the ladies.

“Thank you… really, thank you for caring.”

“Young man, seeing you cry makes me sad too. Don’t cry, okay?”

“Thank you.”

It was then that a voice broke through the heavy mood.

“Shall we… eat?”

It was Kang Kimoon’s quiet voice from the kitchen, where he had been cooking all along.