Rehearsal #1: Disaster.
The first note barely landed before Jang Ah slammed the keys in frustration.
"You literally skipped a bar," she snapped, jabbing her pencil at the sheet music like it had insulted her.
"You figuratively never stop complaining," Hyojin replied, leaning back, unbothered.
A pencil flew. It missed by a mile.
"Nice aim," he said dryly. "Maybe try throwing with your dominant personality."
She groaned. "Are we done with tantrum hour?"
"Not until you stop acting like Chopin's ghost is haunting you."
They tried again.
Rehearsal #3: Better. Barely.
The music flowed, but clumsily. Like two dancers stepping on each other's toes.
"You're not feeling the crescendo," she said, pointing to the passage. "It's like you're holding back."
"You're over-feeling everything," he shot back.
"Fine. Let me help." She cleared her throat, then started singing in mock falsetto:
🎵 "Oh look, it's the prince of pout, practicing piano like he's in doubt~" 🎵
He blinked. Then laughed—real and loud.
"You're insane."
"Certified," she said proudly.
Something shifted.
Rehearsal #5: Something clicked.
Not perfection. Not even close.
But there was something raw in the way their hands moved across the keys—her fire tempering his precision, his control grounding her chaos.
By the time they finished, sweat clung to their backs and the room felt too small.
They sat on the floor, backs against the wall, breathless.
"I still don't like you," she muttered, eyes on the ceiling.
Hyojin closed his eyes, lips quirking. "Cool. Let's win anyway."
She smirked. "Deal."
Later that night...
[Jang Ah]: Don't forget your part for the second movement.
[Hyojin]: I never forget.
[Jang Ah]: Except empathy, manners, and humility.
[Hyojin]: I bring the talent. You bring the drama. We're balanced.
[Jang Ah]: Balanced like a piano falling down the stairs.
He didn't reply immediately.
Instead, he replayed the audio file he'd secretly recorded from their rehearsal.
That moment they both hit the melody just right—the one from years ago.
And when she hummed it, again, unconsciously… it hit different.
It always hit different.
Next Chapter Preview
When a sudden thunderstorm traps Jang Ah and Hyojin alone in the practice room after hours, there's nowhere to run—from the music or from each other.
As the lights flicker and old fears resurface, a deeper connection starts to emerge.
But a single question lingers in the silence:
Who really wrote the melody they both remember?
And what happens when the past demands to be heard?