I wrote a song the other day. I learned how to play the piano in college, but it turned out to be useless. It was simply my last attempt at holding onto the memories of Song Sori’s voice.
But I had a keyboard that I got from an older music major guy at the time. But I’ve not touched it since graduation. I was too busy writing for a living; I had no time to consider playing music. But whether I played or composed music, it would only remind me of Song Sori, which made me feel sick. (At myself, of course.)
I don’t know what came over me that day. It was the middle of the night and I could not sleep. I got up and made some coffee. I brought the cup over to my work table and sat down. If I couldn’t sleep, I might as well try to write something. It had been quite a while since I wrote anything that wasn’t for work. But nothing came to my mind. I turned on the lights and started cleaning my room, to tire myself out. That’s when I found that keyboard that I had trashed away in my closet.
Giving up halfway in the middle of sleeping makes a person do some idiotic things. I grabbed the keyboard and wiped the dust off. I didn’t have a stand so I just put it on my desk. It was one of those cheap ass ones with only 49 keys. And it still took up most of the space on my table. I connected it to electricity and did a test to hear if sound actually came out. It sounded pretty clear. I mean, since I hadn’t touched it for so long, that also meant there wasn’t anything that could’ve broken it.
I started playing a few songs I briefly learned in college. I can’t explain how my fingers still knew the notes. Debussy, Chopin, Puccini... Then I started playing “O Mio Babbino Caro” without thinking about it. It was such a familiar melody that I had to stop after a bit. My arms started to sweat. I had to control my breathing. I needed to hear something else. Haha, I mumbled to myself. I should’ve picked up a few David Bowie tracks.
I tried to write a song but had no idea where to start. I only knew rock music anyway, so a keyboard wasn’t of use to me. Could I even play a power chord with this keyboard that could barely fit two of my palms? That’s when I thought. I wonder how a keyboard would sound if you play something a guitar is supposed to play. I randomly picked an A flat major key. And I played a IV chord like a guitar would play an arpeggio. It sounded alright. I soon came up with the melody. But what about lyrics? Would I even need lyrics. Of course I do, it’s rock ‘n’ roll. I wanted to imitate the rock music that had killed me and saved me. If I literally write for a living but can’t even put words to this tune, what am I supposed to be?
I didn’t write sheet music. I couldn’t really read it back then. I started writing down the melody and the lyrics on my laptop. I went back to the 16th summer of my life. For some reason, my breathing began to calm down. I felt chill. I closed my eyes and wrote down that summer.
In an empty classroom at 4 PM
I lied to myself
That this summer was never going to end
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I looked out of the cafe window. Wind was blowing, sweeping away the leaflets. Looks like it’s already autumn.
I sighed. In front of me, Jihye sipped her coffee, looking at her smartphone. After that alumni meet, we hang out every once in a while like this. It’s mostly her talking off on her own, while I listen. When she says, “Do you know what the producer said this time?”, I tell her, “No,” and she takes care of the rest. She says, today he told me to do this, he totally doesn’t see me as human, etc. Sometimes she tries to dig into my life and I tell her a few things. I don’t know why I keep meeting up with this chick.
“Hey. Are you listening, Lee Sia?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck. You totally aren’t. Your eyes give it away.”
“If you can tell, why did you call me?”
“Um... Cause my therapist upped her rates recently?” Jihye changed her voice to a cutesy tone.
“I don’t intend on taking care of your mental health for you.”
“I guess I’m the dumb one for expecting that from you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean.” I grind my teeth. This bitch...
“Sigh... Even taking my meds feels like work. Must be the dilemma of the modern man.”
“Dilemma of the what?”
“You know, like. Getting a late paycheck.”
“Or a resentment toward the bourgeoisie.”
“Yeah! At least things are funny with you around.”
“Like I said, what does that mean?”
I looked at Jihye. Her lively face seemed to have disappeared. She stirred her cup with a little spoon and continued talking.
“But you know. You’re one of the good ones, Lee Sia.”
“What?”
“Not many people around stick around with me this long.”
“Oh really.”
“Yup. Eventually they go, I have an appointment this or, I’m busy today that. Shit, they think I wouldn’t know?”
“You are more troublesome than one would think, yeah.”
“...you think I wouldn’t...” Jihye’s face goes dark.
“That’s why you don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Goddamnit. Yeah, I wouldn’t be here sitting around with your ass if I had a boyfriend.”
“That’s what I told you. It’s because you hang out with someone like me.”
Jihye kept mumbling something to herself, her coffee swirling round and round, but I cannot hear her voice. I drank my cup. Bitter, and most of all, lukewarm. It was terrible. I put it down and sighed. The inside of my mouth felt like death. It was a little cold in here too.
“Ah~ I want to drink.”
“Already?”
“Hey, it’s 6. 6 in the EVENING? A maiden’s time for war.”
“You’re insane. Don’t say that in a coffee shop. It’s getting bitter cause of you.”
“You’re not coming? I might call some of the other guys.”
“Nope. No. I can’t drink anything stronger than root beer.”
Jihye heard this and cackled. She pulled up her phone and kept swiping down. Probably was going through her contacts. I heard her talking to herself, “this guy won’t come today”, “she never actually shows up”.
“Oh, maybe I should call Sori...”
If I still had the coffee in my mouth, I would have spat it out. Instead I accidentally hit the table. When a loud thump went out, Jihye got surprised and looked at me.
“What’s up...?”
“That name. What?”
“Huh? Sori, Song Sori?”
I could not hide the shaking in my voice any longer. “Song Sori!”
“Hey, what the hell, Lee Sia. I’m scared here.”
“Really? You mean it’s Song Sori?”
“Yeah...? I met her because of some work I did in uni...”
“What?”
“Calm. Down. Let me finish.”
I leaned back and pretended to ‘chill out.’
“I met her in a bar a few days ago. She drank like a whale... Didn’t come across as the type, you know. Anyway, I was thinking I’d meet up with her there... again.”
Jihye faked her laughter. She stared at me. I touched my face with my fingers. I probably looked absolutely hilarious. I looked out of the window again. I thought, what is this unbelievable situation? Should I ask more? Maybe ask for her number? Holy shit.
Question I thought I had left behind began creeping into my head again. My head began to overflow with thoughts, and it ached. I felt like I was 16 all over again. But when I opened my mouth, what came out was a question I never thought about at all.
“Is she... Did she seem fine?”
“Huh?” Jihye thought for a second. “Well, it didn’t look like she was drinking out of sorrow. She just seemed to like it. She seemed better off than you right now.
Weirdly, these words that Jihye meant as an insult only comforted me. I sighed in relief. The headache was gone. I one-shotted my remaining coffee, to numb my body.
“That is all?” Jihye asked.
“Yes.”
“It sounds like you heard the name of your high school sweetheart again.”
It was hard to contain my laughter. “Even so, it’s fine.”
“...I guess that’s that then.”
Jihye frowned. I think she felt as if she couldn’t do much for me. Even though all I needed were those words of hers. But, after fiddling with her fingers, Jihye had this to say.
“I wanna say this at least. The bar is a little further down the street from here. There’s a little sign in English, and inside there’s that... the thing that plays music. That’s the place.”
I didn’t say anything back. I only nodded. Jihye lightened up her face. She looked satisfied now.
For the next 30 minutes, we didn’t say anything to each other. Then we went on our way. Not that different from usual. But during that time, she did tell me one thing. It was when I was humming something. It was a melody I had come up with yesterday. “Sinless people / Green trees / It'd be nice if they all just died.”
“What the hell is that cringy tune.
“What?” I was surprised.
“It’s weirdly so you, but it’s still shocking.”
“I...” Before I continued, I took another breath. “It’s a song I wrote.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm, I see...”
For the first time in my life, I was hearing someone else’s opinion about my music. I wasn’t sure how to respond. It didn’t seem like Jihye was awfully interested in music. It just seemed like she was as shocked as me when she heard me singing. And it didn’t seem like she didn’t want to pry in further, because that conversation ended after she said this one thing.
“Well... Still, it’s very you.”
----------------------------------------
I bought a guitar. I must be crazy. (I guess I am, medically speaking.) ‘I just have to starve in the morning for a few months.’ That was my justification. But I knew. I knew I have never gotten my paycheck on time in the last 6 months. (Dilemma of the modern man... I suppose Jihye was right about one thing.) I feel like a girl that ran from home to become a street singer. But I don’t have a home to come back to, or a mother to take me in. All I have is this one room apartment, with a moldy ceiling and a lightbulb that goes out every 3 days.
It was a Tuesday afternoon and I wasn’t busy. I sat on my work table and played guitar. Since a week ago, I started learning how to play chords using online resources. They were all quite easy, except for the F chord. While I was thinking ‘maybe I have talent’, I realized all the chord progressions I’ve been playing were from songs I’ve heard a hundred times before.
Hmm. Nothing I can do about it. Not like anyone’ listening, anyway. I talked to myself. I started singing a melody. The melody itself came naturally. But it was the words that always puzzled me. After I heard about Sori from Jihye, it became hard to think about her again. I kept playing the same chords, the same melody. When I got sick of it, I put the guitar away.
I moved my eyes onto the closet I found the keyboard in. Before I knew it, I was standing in that veranda again. I once again opened that pandora’s box. There was also my high school uniform and the Spring Summer Autumn Winter CD I got from my parents too. As I searched inside, I played the CD on my laptop. A song from the album started to play at random. “I can only feel the deep scent of nostalgia...”
I finally found the notebook. This was what I was looking for all along. I didn’t want to actually find it so I didn’t think about it. I cleared the dust off and opened it. Poems, written with my tears. It perfectly bore the handwriting of my 16 year old self.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
I moved to somewhere with better ventilation. I saw that my face got red in the mirror. I cringed as I read these decade old poems. The biggest problem, I found, was that I could still relate to them. If it felt like someone completely different had written them, it would’ve been easier to take in. But I was mad and disappointed in myself for not having changed much.
There was one poem that was particularly noteworthy. It was the one that I wrote a few days before my last conversation with Song Sori, before the end of summer. It wasn’t all that special, beside the fact that it completely synced with the melody in my head. But the song being played in the background was the same song that I was thinking of as I’d written it; ‘The Road I Walk’ by Spring Summer Autumn Winter.
There is a word in English, ‘serendipity.’ A string of unintended, coincidental discoveries.
I sat down in my chair again. I picked up the guitar. After drawing one breath, I started playing it. My voice and tongue soon followed the rhythm.
Spring, summer, autumn and winter
And the one which hurt the most
Summer, stuck as memories
I can only feel the deep scent of nostalgia
----------------------------------------
I wrote another song on the guitar. It’s called ‘The Smiths and The Cure’. Though, The Pixies are actually my favorite.
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Friday, 10 PM. Something happened at editorial and I had to get off late. It was only a few years ago that we worked at home. Nowadays writing is all done through emails. Even at the editorial department building, you don’t really talk to people. You just do your own work. This is a good thing. But now I realize why they make us come there. You can’t escape that building even when they increase the working hours. I’m considered a senior in the team, but even I can’t go against the boss.
A chilly November wind blew over me. I blew a breath. A white breath spread across the busy city streets. The city lights were shining as if to blind me. I walked and passed by the crowds. I grabbed tight the sleeves of my jacket. The cold weather was headache-inducing.
I looked around. For some reason it had felt like home was only getting farther away. I didn’t feel like laying down, I felt like drinking. Water was sorely needed. I guess you get thirsty in days like these. I searched for buildings on both sides. I hated bars but they were the only places that were still open. I decided to head for the nearest one to my right. The sign read ‘Stardust’. Fancy name, but the door was an incredibly old looking sliding door. It looked so worn that you could see everything inside; the material was that transparent.
The bar was much more comfortable and larger than it seemed on the outside. There were quite a few people too. Half of the tables were probably filled. I went further in. To my right was the counter, which had chairs too. A few people sat across from each other and drank alone. I was thinking I should sit there too. There was a guy behind the counter, silently cleaning a glass. I already wanted to pay just for the heat provided. I kept looking around.
The men closest to my left were laughing up a storm. They had a face containing nostalgia for an era that the other bar goers had forgotten. When they twisted their face, I could not tell if they were smiling or crying. Surprisingly, on the table next to the counter, a few boys and girls that seemed high school aged were sitting. Their faces were bright red, like today was their first day of drinking. They weren’t as loud as the men, but in particular the voices of the girls were considerably big. They touched each other, bonked their heads, and slapped their cheeks, making a mess. I didn’t even realize I was smirking at them.
I went further to the back, where I saw a certain table. Sitting on the corner was one woman. Her seat could’ve filled 3 to 4 people, but she sat in the middle, alone. Her head was stuck on the table. She seemed to be sleeping. Her hair was long, and was spread out across the table. She was wearing a suit, and probably had left from work.
I stood there and watched the woman. She raised her head. She cleaned her eyes. Both of them were red and swollen. She sighed, and turned her head to look around. Then she tried to stand up. That’s when she looked to her front and noticed me. She stopped standing. She kept staring at me. Her hair was all messy and covered her face, but I could see her eyes. We kept staring at each other. She tilted her head, and frowned. She cleared her hair out of the way. Then she touched her face, as if washing it, then looked back at me. Her jaws dropped.
“Sia? Lee Sia?”
Her voice was clear and pretty. I didn’t expect from someone who had just woken up from drinking. It was like a teenager’s voice. Young and fragile sounding. That’s right, it was one I had heard before. I could get a closer look at the woman’s face now. Droopy eyebrows, smooth lips. I could tell her height since she was halfway standing up. Short. So short. We were a little apart, but her height was so cute that the suit she’s wearing seemed comical. I think there is only one woman in the world who could’ve captivated me this much.
This woman was Song Sori.
----------------------------------------
Song Sori had changed. But once she started talking, she felt just like that 16 year old girl again. It was almost scary.
Song Sori started shedding tears even before I could answer her. I was taken aback and went to her side. She asked me if I was really here, crying. I wasn’t sure what to do. I grabbed her shoulder and sat her down. She kept making these sounds while crying; not sure if they were words or moans or not. I just had a hunch, and gave her a half-filled glass of beer. She emptied it in one go. Her face blushed again. She ordered two more glasses in a loud voice. I looked at a clock, and sat next to her.
“Sia... I’m so glad... I met you ag...”
She got hiccups and could not finish the sentence. I gave her some backslaps. I still had not said anything.
“You... You remember me, right?” She asked.
“Of course. I couldn’t forget you. Song Sori.”
She heard this and laughed. She had looked so wretched and depressed just a moment ago, and there she was making a face with such honest happiness. I felt awkward. I even thought - shouldn’t our places be switched?
“Didya think a lot about me?” She said, after sipping on some beer.
“...That is what you ask after meeting again in 10 years?”
“Hee hee hee.” This laughter is the same as always. “You’ve gotten good at this, haven’t you?”
“Then, what are you going to say if I told you that I did? Creeped out, for sure.”
“I’d be happy.”
Song Sori grabbed a glass to drink, looked at my face in the middle of it, and put the glass down. Then she smiled at me. I could not help but laugh after that. Maybe I hadn’t changed at all in these 10 years. But I was no longer the self-serious girl I was. It’s not an embarrassing thing to express joy when you feel joyous. I felt joy when Sori said that.
“Then did you think about me?” I asked.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” I frowned.
“I did! Sure did.” Song Sori laughed, banging the table.
The table shook, which made the other glass spill out. I looked at the glass. Earlier, Sori saids that she’d pay for it all. That wasn’t really the problem. I don’t particularly like alcohol. But I hate getting drunk. Any pros to drinking is severely outweighed by the cons of a hangover. On principle I try not to drink alcohol even at staff get-togethers. Same with beer.
I grabbed the glass of beer and downed it. My throat felt great. I finally remembered after drinking it that I first came to this bar because I was thirsty. I felt my face blushing. Drowsiness came after. I sent the cold beer down my throat again to wake up from it.
Song Sori was looking at her phone. She was going through a bunch of pictures. She deleted any that had a certain man in it. Sometimes it was him just by himself, or sometimes he was smiling beside Song Sori. She looked at each of these for 1 or 2 seconds and deleted them without remorse. It was as if she was recollecting every moment inside each of those pictures, only then to banish them from her mind. Her face didn’t seem to show any emotion while doing this. But I saw great rigour in that face.
She stayed a little longer at this one picture that simply showed the man’s back.
“Who is that?” I asked.
Song Sori did not say anything for quite some time.
“He was... my boyfriend.”
She drank some more beer and continued.
“He packed his bag yesterday. And he left. I don’t... don’t even know what to think.”
“Maybe you don’t really need to.”
“He told me he likes someone else now. First time I heard of it. Said we should stop before he cheats on me.”
“...” I groaned.
“I feel like I need to talk to him. But now, I don’t know. I just... don’t want to remember anything.”
There was pain in Song Sori’s voice. I heard that pain and felt hurt myself. It wouldn’t have been too weird if I had cheered internally. But I wasn’t hurt because I still liked her. I just didn’t want to see Song Sori in such pain. If I could lessen that pain for her, I could do anything. I don’t care about myself. I don’t need Song Sori. If only she’d smile once again...
“You know, he proposed to me.”
“The guy did?”
“Woke me up in the middle of the night. Just to tell me that. That was one year ago.”
“...” I also drank.
“I guess life doesn’t just go the way you want it to all the time. Everyone loved me when I was a kid... For absolutely no reason at all. Maybe I grew too used to it. Got too arrogant.”
“Yeah. I know well. I know the feeling.”
It was true. The perpetrator was sitting right in front of me. Would Song Sori be comforted by these words? I’m an adult and I still have no idea about the way people think. But, perhaps, the way I squirmed to help her despite that is what was truly human. I asked Song Sori.
“Did you like him?”
“Yeah. But...” Her voice lost strength. “Maybe it was just me.”
“No.”
“Huh?” Song Sori looked at me.
“I’m sure that guy loved you too. But people change. That’s... you can’t blame anyone for that.”
Song Sori turned her head and laid her head down on the table. I’m not sure what I was thinking, but I patted her head. She didn’t show much reaction. So I kept doing it. Her hair was so silky. It was a little messy because it hadn’t been combed in a while, but there was such a beautiful feel to it. I kept patting her until I emptied my drink.
----------------------------------------
When we got out of the bar, it was well past midnight. Song Sori stumbled, and I helped her stand. But Song Sori pushed me aside and started going on ahead. She hummed as she walked. It was a familiar tune but the lyrics were so mumbled to the point of unrecognizable. I looked at her back and laughed. I followed her.
My phone rang. It was from the chief editor. I picked it up. He told me, great work. Then he started through the articles I gave ok to, pointing stuff out. He told me to fix them by morning. I just kept saying ‘I got it’. I wasn’t paying attention. I told him ‘yes’ and accidentally let out a hiccup. The boss laughed, asking me if I was drunk. It came across as a surprise to him. I didn’t answer. He told me, take care then; also, sorry. Then he hung up. I wanted to spit.
Song Sori was standing in front of me. She stared at me. A bit similar to when we just met before. I told her I was sorry, that it was a call from work.
“Beatles...”
She seemed a little out of it when she said that. It was true. My ringtone was the Beatles song “Here, There and Everywhere”. For what reason did I have the first song Sori ever made me listen as my ringtone after all this time? Perhaps my love was more lingering than I had thought. Or maybe it was my final will, of never wanting to forget my memories of Song Sori while also letting them go. There is always the possibility it’s just a very good song.
“You still listen? To the Beatles.” She asked.
“Just the Beatles? I still listen to everything you let me hear.”
“Oh... oh... Alright...”
Song Sori wept quietly. She wiped her tears. I looked around us. There wasn’t anyone but us on this road. No houses. The stores were closed too. This should have eased my mind. But I could not relax. Is she crying of joy? It looked like it. What am I supposed to do then? I wanted to make this girl smile again, no matter what.
“You know, cause of those songs, now I write songs myself... Haha. I thought that was funny.” To be honest, I wasn’t sure what I was saying. I had no idea if it was actually funny or not.
“Write songs? You, Sia?” Sia raised her head. She was crying just a few seconds ago, but her eyes were perked up again.
“Huh? Yeah...” Her reaction was a little stronger than I expected so I didn’t know what to do.
“Let me hear.”
“What?”
“You have to let me hear it. Let me.”
Song Sori came right up to me. She kept looking at my eyes. She grabbed my hands. Her white breath even reached up to me. I couldn’t win against her. She had stopped crying, so I thought I must’ve done something right.
I turned on the phone in my hand again. I searched for the demo I recorded that morning. It only had the acoustic guitar arrangement. The melody was in my head. I had it saved so I could come up with the lyrics at work today. And I did.
I fumbled and played the demo. I increased the volume a little and put it right next to Song Sori’s face. The acoustic guitar sound decorated the winds. Sori listened to it intently.
“Does this have lyrics?” Song Sori said, as if she already knew the answer.
“Huh? Yeah.”
“Sing it for me.”
“What? No!” My answer was obvious.
“Sing it for me. Please. Just like that time when you sang at my house.”
I hesitated for a moment. My gut reaction was “no”. But why? Because I am embarrassed? What kind of childish excuse is that? I looked at Song Sori. She was asking me, looking straight into my eyes. That’s when I finally realized. That I could not deny this woman. I was already determined to do anything for her happiness. The person I love was pleading with me to hear my voice. How dare do I say no to her!
I closed my eyes. The first verse had already passed. I started singing from the chorus. I had to sing in a lower register than what I had in my head. I placed my hand on my chest, feeling the vibrations and controlling my tone. I held onto Sori’s hand with my other hand. My voice was shaking from the cold winds. With every line I sang, I let out another breath. I kept singing, even as my lips froze. I sang for my only audience. Song Sori held my hand tighter. I also held hers stronger. I sang without stopping. That song seemed to spread out across the night sky. The music turned into air, and disappeared, then became sound again.
When we closed our eyes and sank ourselves into the music
That moment was our greatest masterpiece