Genius of a Performing Arts High-Chapter 3.3 - Passionately 3

Chapter 3: Passionately 3

Confidence.

In the past, there was a time when I gave lessons to people. It was embarrassing considering my skills, but there were quite a lot of normal people that wanted to learn singing as a hobby. Teaching a few skills to those and getting paid for the lessons was the rough gist of things.

When I was lost, not knowing what to do, so in other words, when I was doing whatever that paid me, there were quite a few people learning from me, and there was something I told them everytime.

Sing with confidence.

The people hiring me would always say this,

‘Well… it’s because I can’t sing well that I have no confidence.’

Then, I would reply,

‘It’s because you have no confidence that you can’t sing well.’

Because you don’t have confidence, you don’t widen your mouth and open it at a tiny size that won’t even fit popcorn chicken. And because you lack the confidence, you vocalise thinly and not from deep within.

A noob that can only stand at the standing line after having everything correctly done is cutting corners like that? Becoming a good singer was just asking for too much.

That was how important confidence was in singing.

Then, how would we gain that confidence?

“… Do I really have to sing here?”

“Yes.”

Han Dasom stared at my face with a pale expression. Her usual white skin turned even whiter and resembled a ghost egg.

She’s not trembling because the March weather is too cold, right?

With a grin, I checked the surroundings to find quite a few students moving around wearing bags.

It was morning – time for students to get prepared for the lessons.

The front of the Main Building was filled with the commuting students. We were standing slightly off to the side of the entrance, and the people passing by would stare at us with eyes that said, ‘what are they doing there?’.

A place filled with that many people.

In that place…

We were going to sing.

“Yunjae…”

An easy way to gain the confidence to sing, was obviously to get on stages multiple times. And if there weren’t any stages, then you just had to make them.

“Why”

Crossing my arms and turning over to Han Dasom, I found her staring at me with a gloomy gaze. After grumbling on how it was the first time in her life singing in front of this many people, she asked.

“… Doing this today will really make it better right?”

“Who knows? If it doesn’t work, then we’ll continue until it does.”

“…”

Han Dasom looked at me with resentful eyes. ‘Isn’t this like a rainmaking ceremony’, she muttered, seemingly not believing in the effect of this training method.

How rude, this was a training method that was proved by none other than myself.

Tch tch, I clicked my tongue and looked at Han Dasom when I suddenly remembered the things that had happened in the past – the days I practised with teacher Kwak Jungsoo.

I was shaking like that as well back then.

But now?

Flicking my head over, my eyes met with another student who was facing this way. His eyes said, ‘who are these weirdos?’ but when I glared at them like it was a staring contest, he averted his eyes first.

Shrugging my shoulders indicating that it was my win, I turned and found Han Dasom looking at me with a dumbfounded expression.

Well, now, I became an attention seeker like this.

I was like this, but asking Han Dasom to be the same would be too much. With the aim of loosening her tensions up, I turned over and looked directly at her.

Her shrunk posture appeared pitiable.

“Dasom.”

“Un…”

Looking at her quivering eyes, I opened my mouth.

“What’s your dream?”

“Dream?”

She made a questioning expression.

Ah, was it too random? I scratched my hair and looked forward to see the busily walking students. Some of them were only in their freshmen days of highschool but were already being chased by time.

Some students carried a bunch of visual arts tools while some watched dancing videos even while walking. And there were those that carried instruments bigger than their bodies with passionate eyes.

For what were they trying so hard for?

Opening my mouth, I slowly talked about my own.

“When I’m singing, there’s something bottling up, like, feeling my throat dry up. Ah, it would’ve been better if the resonance was a little bigger here; ah I wanted to put a better vibrato here; and ah, I want to sing just a little better – that kind of thirst.”

Reaching my hand out, I threw it towards the sky.

“And finally, singing a song without that thirst – a perfect song, is my dream. That’s why I’m trying hard: to achieve that dream. You should have some sort of a reason to sing in the cold morning wind to not feel unjustified right?”

“Uh? Un…”

“So…”

I turned my head and saw Han Dasom looking at me.

“What’s your dream?”

Her pupils retracted as her lax expression became tense and her iris regained its colours. With an ever sharper expression, Han Dasom stared directly back at me.

She then slowly opened her lips.

“I… want to sing valiantly in front of people.”

Valiant singing, huh.

She has quite the hard dream.

With a grin, I held her chin with my hand. When I pressed on her two puffed up cheeks, her mouth pouted out like a carp. Looking at the wide-eyed Han Dasom staring at me, I opened my mouth.

“And someone like that is trembling like a jelly because they can’t sing? We’re starting in 5 seconds. Vivaldi Gloria part 11. Get prepared.”

“Uun??”

While letting go of her cheeks, I simultaneously started conducting with my other hand and Han Dasom urgently breathed in with a scare.

“Three! Two! One!”

Without a care, I raised my voice and opened the song,

Vivaldi, Gloria no 11,

Passionately.

“Quaniam tu solus sanctus!”

“Quaniam tu solus sanctus…”

Her slow voice crawling from behind was rather weak, but without caring too much about that, I continued singing.

“Quaniam tu solus sanctus!”

“Quaniam tu solus sanctus…”

The students’ eyes gathered to the strange stage in front of the main entrance.

First graders, second graders and third graders. Visual arts department, Dancing department and Music department.

All of them.

The passing students glanced at us and tilted their heads resulting in Han Dasom’s face flushing red.

That would make you more embarrassed.

Look at me. If you sing without caring too much, the people likewise don’t really care and walk away. Maybe they might say, ‘those attention seeking opera department guys are at it again’, but if we sang hesitantly, then we would only receive eyes that questioned what we were doing.

Stabbing at her side, I screamed.

“Louder! Tu solus Dominus!”

“Tu solus Dominus…!”

Han Dasom shut her eyes tight and screamed. Aiya she forgot to vocalise properly. Singing louder didn’t mean forcing a scream, but increasing the resonance.

I shrugged my shoulders and thought of the next verse in my head. In the first place, I wasn’t expecting her problem to be fixed after a day. Because I also needed at least a month of training to form a steel plate under my face.

But in regards to conducting the song, I did it properly.

“Smaller! Tu solus Altissimus…”

“Tu solus Altissimus…”

Vivaldi, Gloria part 11.

The key point of this song was the dynamics.

Loud – soft, strong and weak. When the whispering voice suddenly turned rich, the people would feel a massive catharsis. That most important highlight, and that one softy soft verse had to be covered confidently by Han Dasom.

With the beautiful voice of a soprano lirico, as only then, would the song be viewed as the best song.

When I glanced at Han Dasom, perhaps the scream from before had helped her relax a bit but she appeared better than before. I could hear her delicate timbre slightly crawling out and made a smile.

“Jesus Christe!”

“Jesus Christe!”

Farewell greetings.

After easily finishing the last verse I lowered my head and Han Dasom rushed to do the same. When I raised my head back up, the few students who had been watching over with curiosity were seen turning over apathetically back to their own courses.

Well, that would be a natural response.

For now, at least.

I nodded my head thinking that when a sudden round of applause was heard.

“Bravo!”

Turning my gaze, there was a young man standing there, and raising my gaze to his face, I saw a familiar one. A handsome face, noble-like voice and his eyes closed at all times. Even then, those eyes were facing directly at me and there was a lady helper next to him.

Kim Wuju.

After clapping for a while, he smiled brightly and opened his lips.

“I felt it during the test singing as well but you really are better at singing songs with lyrics. Your expression is really good, and I can feel your contemplation hidden within.”

“Uh… thanks for that.”

It was something to be grateful but… a little too sudden.

A person who I hadn’t really talked to, the genius amongst geniuses, Kim Wuju was complimenting my singing. To be honest, it felt somewhat weird. I still lacked the basics to sing this song… is he being sarcastic? But he didn’t appear that way.

He was smiling like such an amiable person and if that was an act, then he ought to start acting instead of sticking to opera. After acting friendly and giving off lots of compliments, Kim Wuju left after leaving a sentence.

“Let’s try hard together. I’m sure you’ll get better with practice.”

“Uh…? Right, I will. You too.”

Watching Kim Wuju get further away, I scratched my hair once.

What’s up with him?

Oh well.

More than that, correcting Han Dasom was a more urgent problem. I turned to Han Dasom and saw her still standing dully with a dazed expression.

“Dasom, how is it? You feel any more confident?”

“Uh… I think I can feel my heart thumping.”

I see. When I glanced up at her face, it was quite red. She was excited after her first performance I guess.

Excitement.

It was a good emotion. That great feeling after overcoming the nervousness. After realising that feeling once, it becomes harder to leave the stage. The reason that I, who had always been laughed at, had tried my hardest to stand back up there, was all because I had become addicted to the poison called stages.

Seeing her control her heartbeat with deep breaths, I placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a smile.

“Then whenever we have time, let’s come out and sing like this, okay?”

“Uh…?”

Her eyes strongly wavered.

*

Lee Suh-ah watched the conversation outside the windows come to an end – the short conversation between Jo Yunjae and Kim Wuju.

Kim Wuju.

To her who had been glaring at Kim Wuju walking away, a person approached and whispered.

“Public nuisance right?”

When she turned her head, there was Jun Shihyuk standing nearby staring down at Jo Yunjae. After looking at him for a while, she returned her eyes back to the textbook.

“Not really. Just close the window and we can’t even hear it well.”

“Then why were you staring at them?”

After roughly writing a tick on the answer sheet, Lee Suh-ah opened her mouth.

“…because we’re in the same group.”

“Is that so?”

Jun Shihyuk squinted his eyes and looked at her. It wasn’t clear why… but it seemed that Lee Suh-ah had become interested in that hopeless guy.

Jo Yunjae.

What’s so special about him

As he stared at Jo Yunjae entering the Main Building, Jun Shihyuk temperamentally shut the curtains.