The Road To Glory [EN]: Chapter 1831

< 183. A Good Family >

Music was everywhere in Halo’s life.

The honking of cars. A soccer ball breaking a window. For about three seconds, all music died. “Kyaa!” The children erupted in screams.

In a slightly lower tone, the homeowner searched for the culprit, the highlight being the homeowner’s dog barking like a beast as it stepped on its cage.

‘The Kid’ tapped his feet to the rhythm.

Light and fast.

And then, silence.

All sounds folded in, and ‘The Kid’ smiled brightly, waving to the invisible audience like an orchestra conductor he had once seen with his parents.

But that joy was fleeting.

The world kept changing, and all sorts of sounds emerged.

The kid didn’t know how to control the countless sounds, and mostly they became noise mixed with all sorts of musical clumps.

“It’s noisy!”

The kid suddenly covered his ears and shouted in the quiet living room, and his brother muttered, “Here we go again,” then twirled his finger around his head.

The kid was frustrated.

He instinctively knew that he had to express the sounds. He knew very well how happy he was when he expressed it, and he also knew that when he couldn’t express it, the sounds gradually mixed and became noise, eventually causing a headache.

But he didn’t know how to express it, how to unleash the fire inside him, and so his outward behavior wasn’t very pleasing to others.

The kid quietly went into his room when it was almost time for his parents to come home. His parents didn’t like that side of him.

‘His’ parents were immigrants, of Dutch and French descent, respectively.

But for immigrants, they were doing well as diligent members of British society.

The father had amassed wealth above the middle class with his decent business acumen, and the mother was an employee of Fortnum & Mason—a prestigious tea brand that supplies the British royal family—directly in contact with the upper class.

As an employee dealing with the upper class, she had to speak with the same dignity and language as they did, and it was natural to admire them as she met and dealt with them often.

Immigrants have always been known for their zeal for education.

And to that, a desire for upward mobility and admiration for the upper class were added. They didn’t think they were upper class, but they wanted their descendants to be.

They were definitely good parents, and they wanted to be good parents. They nurtured their child’s talents, and they used any connections they had to help him become a better member of society, and they succeeded in sending their children to public schools [in the UK, these are actually elite private schools].

A little strict, but with parents who loved their children and children who loved, worked hard, and restrained themselves. Surely they seemed like the perfect family.

Halo, who had a cup of tea with BB, chuckled.

“But as always, they had a problem.”

“That’s right. A problem. I was waiting for it.”

Isn’t that always the case? Most stories start with a problem in a perfect family.

Halo, who played the role of such a troublemaker, spoke calmly.

“Their second son was a problem for them.”

They wanted him to mingle with the upper-class children, receive the education they received, and eventually go to university and naturally blend into the upper class. But the second son, who had a ‘minor illness’ from the beginning, caused problems again.

They had to stop working and go to school because of a call from the school.

It was shocking news that ‘the boy’ had broken a friend’s guitar. And the bigger problem was that he wouldn’t answer no matter how much they asked him why.

The music teacher and the literature teacher, who had loved ‘the boy’ until then, defended him, saying that there must be a reason, but the more he kept his mouth shut, the more disadvantageous it was for ‘the boy’. The math teacher, who had disliked the boy from the beginning, and the friend’s parents flocked to demand that the boy be punished. The guitar itself was of almost toy-like value, but ‘violent behavior’ that occurred at a public school could not be condoned.

It was only when his parents came that the boy finally opened his mouth.

“Mom, Dad, I-”

“Be quiet.”

“Let’s talk about it at home. Haa.”

He was about to say that it was unfair, but the boy met his parents’ eyes, which seemed to see him as a troublemaker. He couldn’t say anything. The boy froze on the spot and didn’t react even when the friend next to him, the owner of the guitar, pulled at his sleeve and called his name.

The parents apologized in a low posture to the music teacher and the literature teacher who had defended their son, as well as to the teachers and the friend’s parents who had insisted on the punishment, saying, ‘We will educate him well.’ In the end, the boy was given leniency with a letter of apology and volunteer work.

The boy had been bowing his head until then and followed behind his parents. His friend kept calling him, but the friend’s parents stopped him from grabbing him.

“Don’t hang out with such violent kids.”

“How could there be such a child here…? Did you see his eyes earlier? He looked like a crazy kid.”

“No…”

The friend muttered, looking back at the boy and his parents moving away.

“He’s not a madman.”

Rather, he is…

…a genius.

Unfortunately, the friend’s voice didn’t reach anyone.

“Contact the teacher right away. It seems to have recurred.”

“I thought he was all better when he became a seventh grader.”

In the running car, the parents were serious.

They thought their second son’s ‘minor illness’ had recurred. A mental illness that was embarrassing to even talk about.

Constantly hearing hallucinations, humming to himself, never staying still, moving one part of his body, etc. The ‘illness’, which they initially thought was because he was young, showed no signs of getting better even when he became a teenager.

But other than that, the second son was perfect.

He was smart and knew Shakespeare’s verses well, had a face that was so handsome that they couldn’t believe he was their child, and had excellent physical abilities. He was more like the ‘upper class’ than anyone else.

So they believed.

With proper discipline and punishment, proper doctor’s diagnosis, and proper effort, he could get better.

#

BB raised his hand.

“Didn’t they ever consider the boy’s musical talent?”

They also learn music at public schools.

They thought that playing one or more instruments such as the piano or violin was a quality of the upper class, classical music was their culture, and there was also an elective subject called ‘Class Voice’.

Halo, who was loved by the teacher in the vocal music class, nodded.

“They did consider it. This is back in the old days.”

Again, they were ‘good parents’ who wanted to discover their child’s talents, and they had a difficult meeting with a university professor after seeing him watch classical music and hum along.

The first impression wasn’t bad.

‘The Kid’ was sometimes so pretty and angelic that he was mistaken for a girl, and the custom-made suit made him look like a wonderful little gentleman. The professor seemed to like the fact that he spoke with an upper-class accent, and he taught him kindly until then.

But that didn’t last long.

At first, ‘The Kid’ listened hard, surrounded by piano melodies, and heard better music than the music the professor played.

So, to the professor who had finished sweating,

“It’s bland. This song could be a little more… I think it would be good to play it a little harder.”

The kid didn’t know many words, and he didn’t know piano terms either. So he could only express it as ‘bland’ and ‘hard’. Anyway, it was clear that it had greatly damaged the professor’s pride.

The professor’s face turned red, convinced that the kid had read a review of his recital.

“The piano is not played hard. And if you want to pretend to know so much, prove it yourself first.”

Then ‘The Kid’ sat in front of the piano.

The professor crossed his arms and made a scary face, and the parents who had attended together watched the professor’s expression.

The kid’s fingers trembled.

The professor thought it was because he was scared.

But in fact, it was because too much music was rushing to express itself.

The kid, who didn’t know what to express first, pondered.

The trembling hand eventually fell on ‘Do’ [the note C].

What the professor told him to play was music that was easy for the kid to follow, but the kid didn’t play it. Just a shocking performance followed.

It wasn’t like Mozart had suddenly possessed him.

This wasn’t music.

The professor jumped up at the kid who was banging on the piano as if he was going to break it. It would have been cute if he had pressed them one by one, but he wasn’t looking at the chords, he was hitting the keys with his palm.

But the kid seemed to be focused on his performance. Whether the professor came or not, the kid stared at the keyboard. He looked at it intently, and his hands didn’t stop.

Just a little more. Just a little more.

I think I can take it off like this, and I think I can go like this.

He felt like he was about to get a sense of something.

He felt like he was getting closer and closer to something, even though he felt like he was going to die of frustration.

And for the first time.

A little messy, but still complete-.

When the first word of Struggle came out.

The professor grabbed the kid by the scruff of the neck and pulled him down.

The kid struggled, but he couldn’t beat the strength of an adult.

“You impudent bastard! Get off my piano!”

“Let go of me!”

The parents rushed over and asked the professor if he had any talent. The professor, who had come out with a lot of money, snorted.

“Talent, what talent. Does trying to break the piano look like talent? It’s not that he wants to play music, it’s that he wants to break something. If he stays a little longer, he’s a dangerous guy who might even hit people. And if you want to learn anything, fix that arrogant attitude first.”

That’s when ‘The Kid’ met the doctor.

“Aha.”

BB groaned.

And back to the original timeline.

The father, who came home from public school, wanted to correct ‘the boy’s’ impulsive and violent tendencies before ‘the boy’ returned to the dormitory.

As soon as the father came into the house, he took off his wristwatch in front of him. And his eyes flashed.

The sound of the whole world disappeared and became quiet, but at the same time, it was terrible.

The boy ran away from the spot.

Into the music that always surrounded the boy.

The boy, wandering where to go, saw a performer on the TV displayed in the shop window.

The boy, who didn’t know how to play the guitar because his friend didn’t know how to play it, wanted to make a ‘thunderous sound’ and slammed the guitar down on the spot. Thanks to that, the music was completed, but the guitar could no longer be used. He was also called in by adults.

He doesn’t regret it, but the boy learned that there are more ways to make more sounds without breaking the guitar. There were countless ways to play the guitar.

One of the ways to play the guitar was for the performer on TV to hit the body like a drum without plucking the strings.

And the boy went into a street he had never been to before and learned that there were many performers on the street.

Not homeless people, but musicians.

However, most of their music was terrible.

He couldn’t understand why they were making noise when they could express it better.

He just watched and honestly told those who wanted his opinion that it wasn’t good.

But they didn’t get angry like the professor.

Even if they said it was bad or strange, they laughed and sang and played happily. Their music wasn’t good, but their laughter wasn’t bad.

Most of all, when they suggested he try it.

They taught him how to play the guitar even though he didn’t know how to play it, and they clapped and praised the sounds he made randomly. He liked them when they did that.

“But go home, kid.”

“You’re not running away from home already.”

“You’re going to be working for the rest of your life, so now is the time to get one more allowance from your parents. You look like a young master from a well-to-do family, so you have to be patient for the future.”

“How can I meet you?”

“We’re always here. You can meet us whenever you come.”

The runaway situation ended there, but Halo started a new relationship. He escaped from the dormitory every weekend to meet them, played with them, and hung out with them.

He had nothing more to learn about the guitar from them, but the world they taught him was interesting. Riding behind a brother who drives a motorcycle and feeling the wind, being chased while busking.

They treated the boy like their friend and allowed most things.

Of course, except for a few things.

“Drugs, alcohol, and sex are for when you’re older.”

“Go drink more of your mom’s milk, young master.”

“Do you really want to die?”

When the boy ran at them with a guitar, they laughed and ran away.

It was a very happy time.

Some people gave up music and found another life,

They fought among themselves and became embarrassed, and eventually the moment of parting came, but there was no time that was not happy.

For Halo, who learned how to control the sounds of the world and express music, the brothers opened their small wallets and gave him a guitar as a gift.

“We’re going to Scott. This is the last gift.”

“You’re going to Scotland? Why?”

“Ta-da! We finally signed a contract. It’s a small record label, but it’s not bad. We’ll be on TV soon and become popular stars.”

“Don’t cry, young master. It’s not a permanent farewell. It’s just a little farther away. Come visit us anytime if you want. Can’t a popular star buy a fish and chips for a young fan?”

The brothers, excited about becoming a world-famous rock band, left their business cards and left. The boy recalled the record they had gone to and wanted to be on TV and sing like them. He wanted to become a star with them and cause social scandals such as alcohol, drugs, and sex, and above all, he wanted to perform in front of people together.

In order to do that, the boy had to work harder now.

The brothers were running ahead, so he had to catch up with them, and it didn’t seem that difficult for the boy, who actually thought his music was better.

It was a little difficult to adjust to the quiet street.

The problem wasn’t the farewell.

When the boy came home for vacation, he was faced with his angry parents’ expressions. In their hands were the boy’s report card, and in addition, letters from teachers contained the boy’s misconduct.

Hanging out with bad people, running out of the dormitory every night, and making strange music.

None of them were what the parents wanted.

The father rolled up his sleeves and brought a cane.

The boy didn’t really want to avoid corporal punishment.

But he couldn’t obey the order to quit.

The parents, who would have supported him if he had said he was going to play classical music, did not know about the genre of rock and roll, which was just beginning to sprout at the time, and only accepted it as strange music or social rebellion.

The parents grabbed the back of their necks.

The boy suddenly discovered a spark in his father’s eyes in the chilling air. The father suddenly grabbed the guitar case that had been thrown on the sofa as if he was going to tear it open and grabbed the head of the guitar with both hands.

The boy realized what his father was going to do and threw himself.

It happened before anyone could stop it.

Instead of the wall, the guitar collided with the boy, and blood flowed from his hand, scratched by the sharp strings.

I don’t know what expression the boy made at that time, but the mother screamed that the boy seemed to be possessed by the devil.

The boy could no longer stay at home.

At this rate, even the only guitar left to him would not be safe. So the boy grabbed the guitar and ran out of the house. There was no chance of going back in like before.

Because there was no one to tell him to go back to him like before.

“How about up to here?”

The sun was already setting.

Halo’s mouth was dry from telling the story until sunset. On the other hand, BB, who had listened to his story intently, didn’t seem tired at all. Rather, it shone with more curiosity.

“It’s fascinating.”

It’s more than fascinating.

BB couldn’t imagine that Halo’s story would be so detailed and have such a large scale.

Besides, this story has only just begun.

The beginning of how ‘the boy’, whose name he doesn’t even know yet, came to rock.

How many stories will exist behind it?

I don’t want to sleep.

Because the story was cut off at a very important part.

“So, did he go to find those brothers?”

Halo felt his phone ringing.

Seeing it ring once, it was a message.

“I did go to find them. But I couldn’t meet them.”

“Why?”

“They weren’t there.”

The record label that the brothers had mentioned was not there.

He had been scammed.

Since there were no cell phones like now that could be contacted right away, he only lost the train fare to Scotland.

“But I didn’t starve to death.”

He was chased for busking without permission or robbed of money, but when he played, there were people who listened to his music, and he earned money, whether it was a little or a lot.

“Then one day, he met that person.”

“That person is?”

Halo checked his phone and smiled brightly.

“The president of the record label he signed with.”

BB received that one word and organized his seat.

Again, he was a person with a ghostly sense.

“Do you have any plans for this evening?”

“Yes, with my family. Let’s eat next time.”

There was still a lot to interview.

It didn’t seem like this story would be cut off right away.

BB felt like he wouldn’t be able to sleep because he was curious about how this story would turn out, but he didn’t insist.

It was enough time to organize what he had heard today.

Halo got up from his seat and looked out the window.

It’s a high-rise, so I can’t see it, but maybe my mother and father have arrived.

[Son, are you tired? You worked hard today. Mom and Dad just arrived at the hotel, so would you like to come down slowly?]

It was a dinner appointment that I made today because I’m busy rehearsing from tomorrow. I was going to eat lobster, or what was I going to eat.

I think it was a health food, but I eat something new and delicious every time, so I don’t remember.

What wouldn’t taste good.

“Have a good time.”