Devil's Music

74th Edition: Lollapalooza Festival (3)

Friday 11: 00 a.m.

Practiced late last night and everyone fell asleep. Gun was watching a live video of 'You are my kind’ called 'Seal’ from the corner of the practice room to his laptop. With one arm on the table and a chin tucked, he sighs.

‘SEALs are singing as they sway little by little while naturally submitting themselves to Latin music. The Latin Rock feels just right... why can't I? ’

Gun had a lot on his mind when he sang. The composer and writer do their best to save the emotional line in the music. It was a song that I had to pay more attention to than when I was singing another song. The melody was a fast-tempo Latin rock, making it hard to deal with emotions, and even more distracted for onstage action.

I closed my laptop for a moment when I searched for another live video from 'Santana’. The gun leans back and raises its head to the ceiling.

‘What can I do to inspire more natural action? Do I have to act like I'm courting a woman? ’

When I looked at the ceiling with my neck snapped for a long time, I woke up from the chair, touching my neck.

‘I need to eat something first. I'm starving. I can't think of anything else. ’

I walked out of the Chicago Cultural Center in a distressing manner. I walked in front of the Millennium Station in about three minutes. The hot dog truck in front of the entrance to the subway station approaches with a taste again. There was a bench right next to him, so he approached the truck about wanting to sit down and eat.

In the truck, an elderly white man, who appears to be in his late 60s, is rolling his sausage hard and baking. The gun looked at the menu board on the side of the truck and said:

“Can I have a cheeseduck and a Coke, please? ”

The old man looks at the matter and nods, smiling faintly. When Gun tried to take the money out of his pocket and give it to the old man, his grandmother, who was in the back of the car, said.

“You can give me the money. ”

After Gun saw Grandpa, he nodded his head.

“She's my wife. You can give the money that way. ”

When the gun bent at the waist and handed over the money politely, the old lady who was unfamiliar with Eastern manners bent her waist and took the money with both hands, and laughed when she saw the case.

“Are young bachelors Japanese? This is what most Japanese people say. ”

You shake your head, saying it's not a gun.

“I'm Korean. Korea is always polite. ”

Grandma smiled, putting the money in the basket on the truck.

“Okay, I'll be right with you, so why don't you sit on the bench next to me for a minute? ”

The gun sits next to the bench with a smile. The Millennium Station had a lot of flowing populations, so it was quiet because it was morning time. The gun sits on the bench and opens its head.

‘Good to be out. I feel a little clearer coming out. ’

“Umm.. Umm.. island.. always · ·”

The gun suddenly looks back at the sound of a song heard behind it.

“Korean?”

The woman who was sitting alone on the lawn behind the bench was looking for a place to hear a disturbance in Korean. She was an Asian woman who looked like she was in her mid-30s, sitting on the grass despite her clean trousers suit.

The gun turns around and takes a closer look, and the woman looks at the ground with her legs down. With his head shaken, one hand grips his left chest, and he looks so sick and sad. I wondered what was going on, and the idea that I wanted to help the same Korean, my grandmother pushed out a hot dog and a Coke.

“Here you go. Enjoy."

When Gun saw Grandma, he saw the woman again and got a hot dog. When the gun saw the woman, the grandmother dragged her tongue together.

“You're here again today. That woman.”

The gun turned to the grandmother with a hot dog and asked.

“Do you have a story to tell? You sing very sadly. ”

My grandmother shook her head and sat on the bench where the gun was sitting. The grandmother looked at the woman with sad eyes and said.

“I heard it from Lisa, who used to run a flower shop in front of me, and last year we did business in a station other than here. I didn't see it for myself.”

“That woman. He lost his daughter in a gang shooting that happened here last year. Poor thing.”

The gun opened its eyes wide and asked.

“Yes? The shooting? ”

Grandma nodded and said.

“Yes, I heard he was a fund manager who excelled in Eastern securities. He came to the United States as a scout. And now they're doing it. I've lost a daughter who's only three years old, so I feel terrible."

“She was four years old. ”

Suddenly, I saw the sound of walking next to me, and my grandfather on the truck came to me with a towel. Grandfather put a towel around his neck, put his hands on his waist, and looked at the woman.

“She said she was four years old. He said he was working on his phone while walking with his daughter. The day it happened, he was screaming and annoyed during the phone call. Maybe he was talking too much in front of his daughter, surprised by her holding hands for a while, and then something happened while he was on the phone next to the building over there. ”

I looked at her with sad eyes. The woman squeezes and pounds her chest, bowing her head and weeping. The woman was singing a small, prominent song with her main voice around her neck.

When my mom goes to the island to dig oysters,

The baby was left alone, looking at the house.

It's a lullaby by the sea.

Paarcuto Srr sleeps.

The baby's having a hard time sleeping.

I'm so excited about the seagull crying.

I put it on the head of an unfinished oyster basket.

She's running down the sand road.

When the song is over, the woman rubs her head down and sings again. And so the song went on and on. He said with his eyes that he was sad.

“That's where she stood. That's where she got shot. He's out of town and thinks the kid's dead. I would have died with you. Since then, I've been sitting there singing songs all day in words I can't understand. ”

I thought about it without taking my eyes off the woman.

‘So you're singing the baby of the island house.' When the person who wrote that song came down to Busan at 6.25, she said it was a song that she wrote when she saw that there was a newborn baby working alone in the field and worrying about the baby who was left home alone. ’

“So... you're singing that song. He thinks he lost his daughter because he couldn't take care of her. ”

Gun can't keep his eyes off the woman for long. All the hot dogs I was holding were cold and steamed in the cola. Until the grandmother and grandfather who saw the woman next to her went back to work, the eyes of the case did not fall off of the woman. I cried just looking at her.

How bad does it hurt? How much regret, how much guilt? How much do you think I miss you? ’

The gun bows and thinks.

If it were me, would I be able to survive? I know it's not my fault, but I can't take it without blaming myself for what I've been through. ’

When the gun was looking at the floor with sad eyes, the grandmother who was watching it approached and said.

“Phew. Hot dogs are cold. What's wrong with this? It's a pity, and I empathize with others deeply. A living person should live. Hurry up and eat your hot dog. I'll get you warmed up again. Give me that. ”

The gun flashes up and shines its eyes.

‘Empathy? Was it because of empathy that I... had this sad feeling? ’

Gun turns to look at the woman again. The woman is still gazing at the ground, her sad eyes hanging down.

‘That's how you express your emotions with your body. ’

The case felt like a blockage, but when I saw that poor woman, I felt guilty thinking about it. I said a small apology to the woman, if you can't hear me.

‘Sorry, I'm so sorry to think of your unthinkable sadness. Someday you'll be better off listening to music again. I will write a song that will heal you. Please recover.’

When my grandmother came to pick up the hot dog shortly after seeing the bench, it was already gone.

“No, where did this bachelor go? Bachelor, bachelor! ”

When I returned to the practice room, I took out the sheet of 'You are my kind’. The color of the note was still ‘light purple'.

‘The color of passionate love. Is it true? It was Chagall who called kite purple passionate love, not Rahmaninov. Maybe I was thinking wrong. ’

The case moved the English lyrics to Hangul in an empty space next to the sheet of music. Then I stopped the pen at one point.

Stay with me. That's all I'm asking.

I know this moment may not be remembered by you someday.

Because you're the same person I am, and you're everything I want.

This life is here until we die.

Our breath, our skin, our mind, our spirit.

You're the only one, but you're the same. You're just like me.

Gun put the pen down and looked at the lyrics quietly.

‘I was wrong ".

"The purple kite was not ‘passionate love,' but ‘painful love to do alone.’ The emotions themselves were wrong. That's why I had to focus so much on singing. ’

‘This song is not a message to anyone. They were words I couldn't chew out by myself. ’

The gun closes its eyes, arms folded, with a sheet sheet of music placed.

What is matchmaking?

How hard can it be to love alone?

You can't tell someone you love and you have to hide it.

My emotions will eventually become Tidal Wave and attack me.

Smile without me.

Crying in my absence.

In her delightful life without me.

I don't have one.

Just because she's happy without me...

You're lying.

Everything she feels comes from me.

I'm begging you to win.

Love that can't be hidden like a cold

You're gonna have to tell me you're not sick, and you're gonna have to be patient.

Scared and sad.

I'm not your routine.

I hope it's a part of you.

The interpretation of emotion itself was difficult for a young person who had never been in love before.

The gun folds up the sheet music, puts it in the guitar bag, and looks at the time on the wall.

Two o'clock. 30 hours to live.

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