I wish I had never played it.

The moment its melody slipped through my fingers, it has become the metaphor of your departure. Its every note, every key stole away your smiles and laughter, selfishly and cruelly, leaving me only to grapple with that gap between the music and your voice. What words cannot express became my only company, trapping me in its timeless and placeless space.

Yet I only have myself to blame. If only I had stopped the plane, if only I had not hid behind those walls, if only I had plucked up my courage and told you those three words, if only I had responded to my feelings earlier, if only...

But 'if only' will never become reality. It will never turn back in time and erase my mistakes. It is merely a scar of fate.

And so, I, the great pianist Yang Seung Ho, became a prisoner of my own music, of the very last piano piece I've ever written:

That piece which turned from a blessing to a curse.