Devil’s Music

As Geon stood before the microphone stand, the multitude of students beneath the stage couldn't contain their amazement.

Looking down from the stage, Corigliano, who had been sitting in the front row with his arms crossed, tilted his head, lost in thought. With a concerned expression, he gazed up at Geon.

"That's not within the realm of a producer. It's ambition, it's overreaching. You're still young."

As Geon quietly observed the space below the stage, Professor Sharon, sitting in a chair with a guitar in hand, approached him and gently swept her hand down Geon's back, speaking with a voice filled with consideration.

"Student Kim Geon, if needed, I can arrange for a male vocalist from the vocal or opera department. Don't push yourself too hard."

Geon turned to Sharon with a bright smile. "It's okay, Professor. Let me do this."

Glancing at Geon, Sharon looked at him intently before sighing and returning to her seat. She, a professional guitarist, closed her eyes as soon as she sat down, taking a moment to concentrate. After composing herself, Sharon, with closed eyes, began playing again.

Students, previously engaged in discussions or crossing their arms, gradually quieted as Sharon's performance commenced, focusing on the music.

Though Sharon, playing with even more concentration than before, produced beautiful melodies, the students' attention had already shifted due to Geon's impending song. Everyone concentrated on Geon standing in front of the microphone stand with closed eyes.

When the rapid melodies of the classical guitar began to slow and the electric and bass guitars chimed in, Geon's eyes flashed open. From his lips emerged an unbelievably high pitch, almost unimaginable for a male voice.

"Some souls hold

blue stars.

In the ticking of time,

placed mornings.

Wearing headphones, other student musicians who couldn't hear Geon's singing played their instruments flawlessly, keeping perfect time.

Professor Corigliano shot up from his seat.

Some of the students sitting below the stage also rose abruptly.

Many students who hadn't stood up had their mouths agape, wide-eyed and astonished.

Geon's voice was akin to a female soprano's extreme high pitch, resembling an angel's voice or, perhaps, a devil's. Corigliano, with trembling eyes, muttered softly.

"Ca... castrato?"

A castrato refers to male singers who, before puberty, underwent castration to preserve the high vocal range they had as boys. Before the 18th century, due to the prohibition of women performing in religious plays or operas, there was a demand for male singers to take female roles, leading to the emergence of castrati.

Corigliano, reminded of a movie he'd seen before called 'Farinelli,' gazed at Geon's extreme high notes, unknowingly examining his trembling right hand. Sweat had filled his shaking hand, dripping between his clenched fingers as soon as he balled his hand into a fist.

Corigliano momentarily glanced at his hand, then vigorously pointed and shouted at Geon.

"Not a castrato!"

In Corigliano's astonished eyes, a vivid depiction of Geon, reaching a climactic high note with strained vocal cords, emerged. As Geon's performance was not overly theatrical, the restrained high notes continued incessantly.

My soul

has long been ripe, it withers,

uncertainly, in the dark.

Stoned young souls,

consumed in hallucination,

fall onto

the water's surface of my thoughts.

Every stone speaks:

God is far away.

The song ended, but the music continued. Sharon, with her eyes closed while playing the guitar, had tears in the corners of her eyes, and her hand holding the guitar trembled. However, she didn't want to stop this performance, which might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She had yearned for this moment to last forever, but eventually, the piece concluded.

As the piece ended, the musicians, including Geon, and all present, snapped out of their entranced states. The students, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, glanced between each other and at Geon, seemingly questioning if what they witnessed was real.

Professor Sharon stood by her guitar stand, raising her hands and initiating applause.

"Clap, clap, clap."

The students below the stage, upon seeing Sharon's applause, began clapping along.

"Bravo!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"That was amazing!!!!!!!!!!!"

"To witness such a performance! Oh, my Lord!"

"What an incredible voice!!"

Sharon, still smiling, approached Geon and applauded towards his face. Encouraged by Sharon, a louder applause erupted from beneath the stage. Geon, caught in the euphoria of the music, smiled, applauding in turn to Fabio, Samuel, and Tindra. The students cheered, applauding the performers.

After a while of thunderous applause and cheering, the stage gradually quieted down as Professor Sharon, still smiling, looked around at the students and spoke.

"Everyone, it's been a joyous Saturday. Thank you all for gathering here like this. We'll conclude today's studio class here. Please give another round of applause to the performers who worked hard!"

The students once again showered the performers with generous applause. As the performers came forward, shaking hands and politely acknowledging, everyone started leaving the studio one by one, smiling.

Geon watched these happy students with a beaming smile. However, amidst them, Professor Corigliano caught his eye, standing still in that spot, gazing at Geon with trembling eyes. Concerned, Geon addressed the professor with a puzzled expression.

"Professor? Are you feeling unwell? You don't look good."

Upon hearing Geon's voice, Professor Corigliano shuddered. With trembling hands, he approached the stage where Geon was and reached out his right hand toward him. Accepting it as a gesture for a handshake, Geon smiled and held the professor's hand, but Corigliano firmly clasped Geon's hand and spoke.

"It... It was Pyemon... Pyemon's scream. I distinctly heard it."

Looking at Corigliano stumbling with his words and trembling, Geon asked in confusion, "Pyemon's scream?"

Noticing Corigliano's hand not letting go of Geon's, Professor Sharon intervened, concerned about Corigliano's pale face. "Professor John Corigliano, are you feeling unwell? You look pale. How about going to the faculty room for a cup of coffee?"

Shaking like a leaf, Professor Sharon couldn't take her eyes off Corigliano and, with an awkward smile, addressed Geon and the performers, "We'll postpone the dinner we planned for tonight. I'm sorry. As you can see, someone who was supposed to join us for dinner isn't feeling well. Don't worry; it seems like they've experienced some musical shock. Rest a bit, and you'll feel better."

As Sharon supported Corigliano, leaving the studio, Geon and the performers shrugged at each other but soon exchanged high-fives, finding joy in the splendid performance they had just delivered.

Though Sharon settled Corigliano comfortably on the sofa in the faculty room, he seemed absent-minded, muttering to himself, "Pyemon... It was Pyemon's scream. The legend was true."

Offering a warm cup of freshly brewed coffee and taking a seat opposite him, Sharon inquired, "You've been mentioning Pyemon repeatedly. What's happening, Professor?"

Corigliano stared blankly at the coffee placed in front of him. "It's a legend, Sharon."

Taken aback, Sharon widened her eyes. "A legend?"

Leaning back against the sofa, covering his face with his hands, Corigliano explained, "It's about the mentor of my mentor. A legend that they shared with me. Someone who possesses the scream of the demon Pyemon. One who exhales the breath every music in the world holds."

Setting down her coffee, Sharon asked with surprise, "I don't quite understand, Professor Corigliano."

Raising himself slightly and resting his elbows on his thighs while covering his face with both hands, Corigliano said solemnly, "I need to meet Professor Leontine Price from the Opera Department. Right now."

Sharon raised an eyebrow, puzzled. "I don't understand any of this, Professor. Why would we suddenly talk about Professor Price from the Opera Department here?"

Looking at Sharon with a serious expression, Corigliano explained, "Professor Sharon, do you remember what Professor Price mentioned at the Christmas party two years ago when she was a bit tipsy?"

After a brief pause, Sharon shook her head. "It's been too long; my memory's fuzzy. What did she say?"

Taking a deep breath, Corigliano recollected, "She said, 'Every vocalist's wish in the world is to hear Pyemon's scream at least once before they die.' That's what she said."

Sharon nodded in recollection. "Ah, I vaguely remember now. I remember asking about Pyemon back then, but you just laughed it off, Professor Corigliano."

"I thought it was fiction. Just a fanciful tale circulating among musicians. Moreover, even if one were to hear it, how would they recognize an unheard voice as Pyemon's scream? I've asked Professor Price something similar in the past," Corigliano said, glancing at Sharon.

"And what did Professor Price say?" Sharon inquired with curiosity.

"As soon as they hear it. They would recognize what they're hearing. And today, I heard it. No, I saw it. Pyemon's scream," Corigliano said, wrapping his face with both hands.

"I saw it. A beautiful boy with the smile of an angel."

"I heard it. A voice of exquisite beauty with the devil's essence."

>

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