Once Love Begins - Chapter 17. Part 4

Chapter 17. Part 4

I decided not to push any further, respecting his limits. Instead, I took another sip of coffee, savoring the moment and the conversation.

I knew better than to offer empty reassurances to Joochan, like “It’ll be okay” or “Things will get better.”

Those words wouldn’t have meant much to someone like him, who was trying to stay strong despite his struggles.

“Oh, right. The reason I asked to meet up—this is it,” Joochan said, fiddling with his phone before handing me a pair of earphones.

“What is it?” I asked, curious.

“Just listen,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Intrigued, I took the earphones and put them in. As the song began with a soft humming, my eyes widened in surprise.

Joochan nodded slightly, encouraging me to keep listening. I closed my eyes and let the melody wash over me. There were no lyrics yet, but the melody was stunning, like lying in a field of flowers on a spring day, gazing up at the clear blue sky.

As the song progressed toward the chorus, my heart began to race, and I couldn’t help but smile. Even after the song ended, I kept my eyes closed, savoring the lingering emotions it had stirred.

“Well, what do you think?” Joochan asked, his voice tinged with anticipation.

“It’s beautiful. I love it,” I said, genuinely moved.

Joochan was a well-known composer, not only for writing songs for idols but also for creating some of the most memorable OSTs in dramas and films. Recently, he’d even won an award for his work, solidifying his reputation in the industry.

“How about you try singing it?” he suggested.

“…What?”

I asked, completely caught off guard.

“Yeah, let’s have you sing this one,” he said.

“It’s going to be part of a drama, and I think your voice would be perfect for it.”

“Me? Sing?”

I waved my hands, trying to dismiss the idea.

“I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Come on, let’s just give it a try. Please?” Joochan insisted, almost pleading.

“I brought you here for this reason. Just try it out, and if it doesn’t work, we’ll drop it, no hard feelings.”

“This is crazy. I’ve never even taken singing lessons. How could I possibly record a song?” I protested.

“I’ll help you. The recording studio is right nearby. Let’s just go give it a shot,” he urged, already standing up and gesturing for me to follow him.

“R-right now?”

My eyes widened in surprise. Recording a song wasn’t something to take lightly, and here he was suggesting I do it without any practice. I squinted at him, suspicious. Suddenly, it clicked—maybe that’s why he hadn’t brought Subak and Sueom along today.

“Why?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“Senior, what’s going on? Why are you doing this to me?”

“What do you mean? While I was working on the song, I realized your voice would be perfect for it. And since it’s my composition, I want it to be well-received.”

“…”

“Just try it, please? Just this once?” he pleaded.

“Only once,”

I agreed reluctantly.

He immediately put down his coffee, only half-finished, and grabbed my wrist, pulling me along eagerly. As I followed him, I couldn’t help but notice the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth—was he trying not to laugh?

A little while later, I found myself standing in the recording studio.

“Wait, you’re telling me my voice might be on air?” I asked, still in disbelief.

Before I knew it, the sky had turned dark. After spending hours in the recording studio, my throat was sore from singing. Despite my repeated attempts to stop, Joochan managed to urge and persuade me until we finally recorded a full song.

Only then did he agree to take me out for dinner, bringing me to a nearby restaurant.

“So, how long are you planning to stay here?” Joochan asked, smoothly changing the subject.

I stared at him, not letting the diversion slide.

“Why?” I asked, pressing the issue.

“Why are you dodging the question? Is that song going to air?”

“I already told you it is. Why? Don’t you want it to?”

“It’s just… my voice isn’t that great. There are so many better singers out there… why me?”

“Because I wrote the song with your voice in mind.”

My fork, wrapped with spaghetti, paused mid-air. The light atmosphere suddenly felt awkward. Forcing a smile, I set the fork down. Sensing the shift, Joochan quickly steered the conversation in a different direction.

“So, how long are you planning to stay here?”

“I’m heading to Egypt soon,” I replied.

“Egypt?”

“Yeah, I’m planning to live there for a month,” I explained.

The change in topic eased the tension, and we continued our conversation, though the weight of his earlier words lingered in the back of my mind.

Dahab, Egypt, was a place of exotic beauty and stunning landscapes. I had been there once before, and now I was preparing to go back. It was perfect for scuba diving and spending leisurely days, a place where time seemed to stretch out endlessly.

“I wonder if I should try learning scuba diving too,” Joochan mused.

“…I think you’re more suited to being here,”

I replied with a small smile as a gentle breeze blew between us.

“But seriously, when are you going to stop calling me ‘senior’?” he asked, playfully.

“…”

“You know, you can call me ‘oppa’ if you want,” he suggested with a smile.

“…Maybe next time,”

I responded, hesitating. For some reason, the word *oppa* just didn’t come naturally to me.

“Well, I guess it might be a while before I see you again then?”

“Yeah. After Egypt, I’m planning to head somewhere else.”

“You look good. It suits you.”

“Yes. I’m happy,”

I said, feeling the truth of those words. It was a contentment that I had been searching for, and now, in this moment, I could finally say I had found it.

It was true. When I was underwater, everything else seemed to fade away, and I felt at peace. It was the time just for me, surrounded by the vibrant marine life. Swimming among the colorful fish, I realized how small I was in comparison to the vastness of nature. It made me understand that there was no reason to hold on to pain.

“Shall we head back?” Joochan asked.

I looked at him with a content smile. He seemed like he wanted to say something, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the right words. But then he just stared at me for a moment before letting out a soft laugh.

“When the album comes out, you have to send me a copy,” I said.

“I will. Now, hurry inside.”

“Okay. Take care,” I replied.

I knew he would stand there until I was safely inside, so I gave him one last glance before turning away.

My heart was strangely fluttering, probably from singing after such a long time. I pressed my palm against my chest, trying to calm the rapid beating, but it didn’t help.

The song I had sung earlier in the recording studio replayed in my mind, making my ears warm with embarrassment. I needed to wash away the lingering emotions.

Looking around the quiet house, I felt a sudden urge to escape the silence and hurried to the bathroom, pretending to be busy with something as mundane as taking a shower.

** * * **

I had tried to pack light, but my bag still felt heavy.

I sighed, opening it up to see if there was anything else I could leave behind. But after a quick scan, I realized that everything was necessary. Despite traveling for a year and gaining some experience, packing still made me feel like I had a long way to go.

Today was the day I was leaving for Egypt for a month-long stay, and I couldn’t afford to waste time. If I kept dragging my feet, I’d be late.

I decided to take out a few pairs of shoes and clothes from the bag. That lightened the load considerably. After all, it wasn’t like I needed a lot of outfits or shoes.

I took one last look around the house, wondering when I’d return, before heading to the door. But just as I reached for the handle, my phone rang loudly from my pocket.

I pulled it out and saw that it was a call from Korea.

A strange sense of unease washed over me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I hesitated for a moment before answering the call.

“…Hello?”

I swallowed hard, my throat was dry. My heart pounded in my chest, and I didn’t know why I felt such a sudden sense of fear. Then, as the person on the other end of the line spoke, my face went pale. The bag I was holding slipped from my fingers and hit the ground with a thud. I could only stare at it, my mind frozen in shock.

Please, no.

Please, Grandfather. Please… just hold on.

I sank to the floor, unable to respond to the secretary who told me they had already booked a flight back to Korea. It felt like I couldn’t breathe like the air had been sucked out of the room. I forced myself to take deep breaths, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

Grabbing only my wallet and passport, I rushed to the airport. I couldn’t even remember getting on the plane—everything was a blur.

Nothing can happen. Please, please… I prayed to whatever higher power might be listening, begging them not to take Grandfather away before I could see him again.

The last image of Grandfather’s face flashed through my mind, but I couldn’t cry. It was as if crying would somehow make my worst fears come true. If I stayed strong, maybe he would too.

I clenched my teeth, desperately holding back my tears.

But my prayers went unanswered.

I received the news of my grandfather’s death while still on the plane. It was the first time I regretted being so far away. If I had been closer, maybe I could have seen him one last time.

“Ugh…,”

I choked out, digging my nails into the back of my clasped hands. I pressed so hard that my nails turned white. All I could do was repeat the words “Just hold on a little longer, Grandfather,” over and over again.

When I arrived at Incheon Airport, I kept my head down, walking as quickly as I could. I was supposed to meet the secretary, and my heart raced with urgency.

As soon as the gate opened, I was momentarily blinded by a flurry of camera flashes.

The shock lasted only a moment before the security guards quickly covered me and made sure I made it safely out of the airport. It wasn’t until I was in the car that I realized the gravity of the situation. The television was filled with news of the succession crisis that was gripping the nation.

Grandfather’s death had set off a storm, and now, everything was about to change.

My face, which had remained unknown to the public thanks to Grandfather’s protection, was now splashed all over the news with his death announcement. It became clear that someone in the family had deliberately revealed the information.

Even on the way to the funeral home, reporters trailed behind, their relentless pursuit only adding to the weight of the situation.

The secretary mentioned that Grandfather had passed away peacefully, and I nodded in acknowledgment. But all I wanted to do was break down and cry.

The one person in this world who had always been on my side, my Grandfather, was gone, and I couldn’t wrap my mind around it.

I heard nothing—neither the encouragement to stay strong nor the news that my relatives were already at the funeral home. None of it registered.

*Grandfather, I’m scared. I’m so scared.*