His eyes opened just as the last note tapered off. His baton drifted down to the master stand. And the musicians sitting and standing before him anxiously waited for a comment. With one little action, they relaxed. He smiled. The composition was perfect. It was complete. He could still hear the flutes. The timpani, the trumpets. The violins, the cellos. Her hums.

“Great work. We’ll rehearse this one more time tomorrow. You all are dismissed.”

The dismantling of the woodwind instruments and the locking of the instrument cases reverberated off of the walls of the concert hall. Jonghyun carefully flipped through his master score and he could hear her distinct humming. The string section. The percussion section. The woodwind section. It was a true masterpiece that he wished he could have created but it wasn’t his. It was her’s. She created each note. She created measure. Each harmony. Each melody. She wrote the last note. He was only the conductor. He only held the baton. He only gestured each musician to hit each note.

“Jonghyun.” One of the violinists approached him with an expression filled with wonder and fascination. As Jonghyun’s friend, he had never heard or seen a piece as wonderful as this one. He never knew Jonghyun could get his hands on a piece so close to perfection that it seemed like perfection itself. He asked him of the origin of this composition.

“A friend of mine wrote it for me. She’s a genius when it comes to music. She had potential to become a professional composer but she couldn’t.”

Jonghyun looked behind him and his eyes were drawn to the last small note at the end of the page. It lied perfectly still next to her signature. He could barely make out the note on the back of the thin paper. He couldn’t help but allow the ghost of a small smile waltz on his face.

“Why couldn’t she? Money issues? Problems with parental consent?”

“No, it wasn’t anything like that. She couldn’t let herself do what she loved most. She had no choice. This was the last composition she wrote before she gave up writing for good.”

♪♪♪

There was no inspiration. No movie. No song. No book. Nothing could spark an idea. He couldn’t even think of the first note. For the first time in his life, he had lost creativity. He couldn’t show up with an empty master score. But his hand wouldn’t move. The tip of his sharp pencil lied still in the first measure. His mind was blank. The last few days were just the same: quiet and dull. There was usually a flow of inspiration but he just couldn’t think of anything. Maybe I should walk around town. Maybe I’ll see something that will become the inspiration to my new composition.

Jonghyun closed his book of empty sheet music and a pencil. The bright spring sun blinded him when he left his apartment building. His ears picked up the sounds of children laughing and squealing, couples murmuring words of love, cheerful animals chirping or barking. He passed by clothing stores that blasted pop music, cafés filled with the sound of brewing coffee, restaurants that played mellow songs. His feet didn’t stop until he was about a mile away from home. No, it wasn’t because he was tired. He heard an unfamiliar yet exquisite tune played on a piano. His eyes were staring at a small, rundown theater. And ever so quietly, he opened the rotting wooden doors and stepped inside of the crumbling theater.

The unique song grew louder as he stepped closer to the stage. And on the elevated platform, there sat a young lady in front of a piano. Her eyes were closed as she let each note take over her soul. Her body swayed and moved with each press of a key. The sight was magnificent. But in the middle of the melody, she stopped and stared at the black and white keys as if they were foreign to her. She seemed confused as to why her hands stopped gliding over the old keys.

Nevertheless, Jonghyun applauded the stranger. It was still a wonderful piece even if it wasn’t finished. She seemed surprised to see someone standing below the stage. She was talented, was what he said. She awkwardly stood before him, not knowing how to react. What was it that she was playing was his question. Just a little something that came to mind, she said. It wasn’t done, she had lost inspiration was what she told him. But the more she looked at Jonghyun, the tune completed itself in her mind.

They sat together, staring at the keys, itching to press one and hear a single powerful note vibrate. The black baby grand piano waited patiently for the two to press the first two keys in harmony. And when his fingers and her fingers timorously danced upon the keys, the song that she brewed up rose from the open top like steam from a cup of tea. Each note found a partner and as pairs, they waltzed around the two players. When the last string stopped vibrating, Jonghyun cracked a smile. It felt nice to have inspiration again.

He looked to his right and looked at the young lady staring at her hands in awe. She looked up at him and smiled, almost as if she were thankful. Her hands gently glided over the white keys and stopped when she reached the center of the piano.

“Who are you?” Her eyes were still on middle C and she drew imaginary stars on it.

“Kim Jonghyun. I’m a composer for the Seoul Symphony Orchestra.” His hand mimicked hers and he stopped just before his hand could meet hers in the center. “Who are you?”

She chuckled almost bitterly. “I’m Lee Yoojung: a nobody. I make music, just like the music the Seoul Symphony Orchestra plays. But it’s amateur.”

Jonghyun smiled at her low self-esteem. He couldn’t believe her after hearing what he had heard her play. Her piece sounded like something a professional would create. “Well, Miss Lee Yoojung, you sounded wonderful. I know that we barely know each other but I would love to work with you. You see, I’m trying to compose a new piece for next year’s Winter Concert and I can’t seem to get my creative juices flowing. I was wondering if you would be willing to help me.”

She was doubtful at first but the more she stared at the silent keys before her, the more she desired to work with him. If he could complete one song, how many more unfinished melodies could he write an end to? Maybe she had found her muse. And maybe he had found his muse. Maybe, together, they could create something so delightful that the completed composition sounded insane.

♪♪♪

Spring was blooming and summer was near. Like the flowers, Jonghyun and Yoojung’s relationship bloomed. They grew too close for their comfort. One day they were just friends. The next, they were best friends. Then, they fell in love. But it couldn’t happen. It was strictly work, that was what they told themselves. However, there was no denying that they were deeply in love. And with love came troubles.

“I think the flute section is overpowering the violin section.” Yoojung began to erase the forte sign but Jonghyun stopped her. He said the flutes should be louder because it sounded more romantic. And from there, the argument ensued. Yoojung couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt. It sounded like Jonghyun was turning down every single suggestion she had. She had no say in this composition, she just drew every note and listened to Jonghyun’s ideas.

“I think I know what I’m doing.” Yoojung stared at Jonghyun in shock. Was he saying that he was right because he was a professional composer? Or was she just overthinking things? But Jonghyun answered her question. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. I’ve learned a lot in a school just for the arts.”

Yoojung grew red in embarrassment and anger. She thought she had a chance to do something for herself. She thought this was the perfect opportunity to learn and take a step closer to becoming an actual composer. But she was dead wrong. Jonghyun was a tease. He led her on to think she would play a major role in this composition. He led her on to think that she was actually talented and important. Instead, she found out that she was nothing. She was a nobody. A foolish nobody that fell in love with a talented and conceited man.

“It seems like you don’t need me anymore. Have fun finishing this by yourself.” Without a chance to apologize or think about what he had done, she was no longer in his living room. Her cup of coffee was half empty and the steam was growing thinner and thinner. Jonghyun couldn’t take his eyes off of the unfinished piece that she had started. When he saw an unfinished note, he finally worked up the courage to chase after her but he was a beat too late. She was already in a taxi, driving back home.

He had made a big mistake and he regretted it deeply. Jonghyun knew he had to make things right but how could he when she had left without a trace? He didn’t know where she lived. No matter how many times he went to the old theater, she never showed up. For the rest of spring, all of summer and fall, and the beginning of winter, she was gone. Her phone was left unanswered. He couldn’t finish the piece they started when he had no muse. The deadline was nearing and there was no insane perfection in front of him, just heartbreak and remorse.

But after months of no communication with her, he received a package from her. The large, bulky envelop was leaning against his front door when he returned home from the old theater. He was hesitant to open it but nevertheless, he carefully tore it open. Inside was a CD, a smaller envelop, and a thick banded composition. He took out the smaller envelop first and took out the letter folded inside.

Mr. Kim Jonghyun,

I hope that the composition is at least almost finished or at least has a title. If you’re wondering why I left that day, it was because you hurt me. You constantly treated as if I didn’t know what I was doing and I was tired of it. I will admit that I was at fault for acting immaturely and storming out. I should have handled it in a better way but I didn’t. I sincerely apologize for that. I know that you didn’t mean to make me feel that way. But if you did, I still forgive you.

The reason for my forgiveness and the bound composition that comes with this package is because I have fallen deeply and madly in love with you. We started out as strangers, but as I got to know you and work with you, I realized that you and I had so much to teach each other. I don’t mean to offend you in any way but you weren’t creating music. You were creating something unoriginal. Music comes from the heart and you should enjoy it. You treat it as work. I tried to stay true to my heart as I created the piece inside the large envelop.

It’s for you. You were my muse. My inspiration. You were the only thing on my mind as I wrote each note. The CD is what it sounds like. You can choose to throw it away or keep it. I don’t care what you do with it but just listen to it first.

You must be wondering why I’m doing this. One, this is my declaration of love. Two, it is an apology gift. I have many things to be sorry for. I’m sorry for storming out on you. I’m sorry for not calling or texting you back. I’m sorry that I left without a word. No one but my family knew that I was on the brink of death. I was struggling to live as cancer came back into my life. As you’re reading this, I’m already gone.

When we first met, I was trying to find happiness again. And music has always made me happy but I just couldn’t create anything new. You showed up and things seemed so much greater. Thank you for that. Thank you for being my muse. Thank you for letting me work with you. Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for letting me love you secretly.

I wish you the best of luck as you finish the composition if you are not already finished. I’ll be listening to your genius creations from up above or down below.

Goodbye, Mr. Kim Jonghyun. I love you.

Sincerely,

Ms. Lee Yoojung

Jonghyun wiped away his rolling tears and stared at the letter. He reached for the CD and put it in. The first thing he heard was the sad sound of the violin. He could see the story that she composed. Her depression. Their happy first encounter. Her love. Her pain. Her remorse and sorrow. Her love sad love.

When the CD stopped spinning, he took out the bound pieces of sheet music. It was the master score. At the top, it read Ordinarily Unique. He took his time to examine each note. And when he reached the end, he saw ink bleeding through the last page. He closed the composition and turned it over so that the back was up. In the bottom left-hand corner there was a little note written in black ink.

Kim Jonghyun, you’re a genius. You’re music will change the world just like it changed mine.

And with that, Kim Jonghyun possessed the most composition in the world. It was rare and unique. It was valuable and it was all his. In his hands was Lee Yoojung’s last composition.

♪♪♪

A/N: The End