ARC TWO

ritardando
Origin: Italian
Slowing down; decelerating

DISCLAIMER: The personalities and opinions of these characters do not represent those of actual idols themselves, the Juilliard students, the New York Philharmonic, or any of its employees. The Juilliard School is not responsible for the accuracy of information.

The Sixteenth Measure

Sunday: January 17, 2021

"Mina", Yoojung called, lightly rapping on the door of my bedroom, "Ms. Chan, that counselor from Juilliard, is at your doorstep."

The diminutive girl is just as proficient at pulling people out of bed just as she is proficient at doing chores. The moment she entered my room and hauled my out from under the covers, I hastily slipped off my pink jammies, changed into a decent winter pullover, tied my wine-colored hair into a ponytail and fastened it with a pink hairtie. Yoojung was right about Ms. Chan being outside of the premises, her North Face jacket being the only aspect of her tall demeanor noticeable from the eyehole of the front door. 

"I'm here on behalf of me, Mr. Howell, and Ms. Tanaka", she started as I was putting on a pair of leggings, "The three of us wanted to apologize about what happened yesterday. I understand if you don't want to let me in, but please hear me out on this."

I felt bad for her. It must've been a lot of trouble for her to bury out my address and locate my home. I turned the knob and opened the door.

Ms. Chan untied her shoes as I offered her a pair of house slippers, "My goodness. You really do have a nice house. Are you living alone?"

"My relatives are staying over, but they're at work", I answered, "Please make yourself comfortable while I make some tea."

She settles herself in the same couch where Chaeyoung and I cuddled in a few days ago, "That's very thoughtful of you, Mina. Your mom and dad clearly can't recognize your helpfulness and your benevolence. I wish that those qualities were noticed."

Ms. Chan mentions my parents and unwittingly, I burn the palm of my hand by touching the water kettle too soon. I envision how tedious it's going to be when I need to use my hand to lug my instrument case to the Lincoln Center, but then I remembered that there are no Juilliard Orchestra rehearsals on Sundays according to Kai as of last week. Practicing today seems almost insurmountable after wasting my energy on uncontrollable crying. Shedding tears alone makes practice difficult enough, so there's no point in doing it.

"Thanks for the tea, Mina. Have a seat", Ms. Chan motions me to the gold-glit chair on the other side of the coffee table.

"So you were saying?"

"Right", she laid the dainty tea cup down on its saucer, "We're terribly sorry about the ruckus we've caused yesterday with you and your parents. I thought that having the three of you in one room could mend some broken communication, but I guess I arranged that affair too soon."

I reclined back in my chair and didn't say a word.

"We came to a consensus that we'd keep you away from your parents until you're ready to face them. They've agreed to undergo rehabilitation with Mrs. Lee — a friend of mine who specializes in family and marriage therapy, especially those who have been afflicted by alcohol."

"I don't really want to talk about my parents right now", I cut in, kicking off my slippers and curling up into a ball on the chair.

"Okay then", Ms. Chan considered, "How are your friends?"

Really? This question?

"Which one?" when I speak my voice trails slowly, like a bird unwilling to take flight

"Any of them", she smiles, taking another sip of her tea, "Ramble on about the people in your life."

The first person that leaps up into my mind is Jihyo. I tell Ms. Chan not only about how much of a gifted violist and vocalist she is, but also about how sweet and selfless she is. Jihyo is like the mother I never had — one who would provide words of wisdom and unconditional love. Jeongyeon is next, acting as sort of a father figure. The timpanist has an odd way of portraying her affection towards her friends — she has her stupid jokes and embarrassing pulls, but at the end of the day, she deeply cares for others and only wants to make us smile.

Momo is a little difficult to comprehend and much like Jeongyeon, she also has an unconventional way of portraying her love for her friends. Dahyun too but once in a blue moon, she'll say something meaningful to lift everyone's spirits, just like she did before our first Pops Orchestra concert. Tzuyu is chill and complacent, but she handles the most distressing situations with poise. She loves Dahyun too. She really does.

Chaeyoung and Sana aren't that different from each other. Both girls are impulsive (okay, maybe not so much Chaeyoung), and it leads to mistakes and misunderstandings from both ends of the discussion. Sana especially gets caught up and misdirected, to an extent where she has a hard time controlling her focus and energy. But other times, her energy elicits very noble actions. Characteristically, Sana and Chaeyoung will put great importance on the people that they cherish, and will do anything they can to secure their contentment.

And now Nayeon...

Ms. Chan disrupts my thinking when she clicks her pen, jotting down what I reiterated to her, "We need people who can sympathize with us, people who can be depended upon during rough times liks this, and people who can lend their ears while giving us honest, constructive feedback. In psychology and in accordance to stages three and four of Maslow's hierarchy, research has showed that having a support system provides us with positive benefits such as higher levels of well-being, better coping skills, and a longer life. These are basic human needs."

The Seventeenth Measure

Monday: January 18, 2021

I took the metro to Central Park South and met up with Nayeon at the Columbus Circle Holiday Market, where the clarinetist was reveling in the glittering aisles of art, jewelry, and delicious eats from local artisans and vendors. She bought a couple of home goods for herself and Jihyo, and while doing so, smiled and eagerly waved at every stranger that caught her eye. Her warmth was radiating within the chiliness of New York City. Even in the midst of January, the sun was out and glowing a delectable shade of egg-yolk orange in the wintry air. To see Nayeon's rabbit-like teeth form an amiable smile is a rare sight for me because I'm more accustomed to her short-tempered side. 

Nayeon looked up at me and flashed a bag of roasted chestnuts in front of eyes, still nibbling on one as she spoke to me with that same smile, "I'm so glad that you decided to come with me, Mina. I didn't want you to shell up in your house forever."

I fished a chestnut out of the bag and smiled back, "No problem."

"I've been worried about you since you moved out of your dorm", she states, "It's weird — not hearing the scales and études of your bassoon at six o'clock in the morning. Your stirring melodies in a low baritone, or your fragrant notes in the tenor range."

"Or the sound of a dying duck", my giggle comes with a frosty breath of air, "You wouldn't miss my obnoxious playing at the crack of dawn."

"God, you're so cynical", she pouts, placing both mittened hands on my cheeks, "I do miss your playing! Now I have to deal with that annoying trumpeter who wakes up at five o'clock just to show off his not-so-flashy Arutunian concerto. God, even Jihyo expressed the urge to secretly murder him, but you know that girl: she's too kind and motherlike to even wield a knife or any other device of torture that isn't her viola."

"Don't tell Jihyo about that viola joke", I insinuate, "She won't be so motherly after that."

Nayeon pops another chestnut into , "I've dated Jihyo long enough to know not to share viola jokes with her."

We made our casual stroll pass the Umpire Rock and the Central Park carousel when the clouds disappeared and a huge pool of blue skimmed the sky. The sun rises higher, casting in trees with their vivid hues and bringing the warm tones into the cold city.

Children flocked out of the gardens and sprinted towards the colorful carousel with a Ruth & Sohn band organ performing ecstatic waltzes and polkas. Their steps feel lighter and lighter toward the brilliant shafts breaking through the brise-soleil where the carousel is contained. Within each kid, there is a place of innocence — an incorruptible place that has not been altered or touched by any of our misguided beliefs about ourselves. They believe that everything will turn out right no matter what you do and what happens to them; they are truly happy. If the biggest problem in the world is losing their lunch money or leaving their math assignment at home on the day it is due, they are sad for while, but then they slowly heal and become happy again. To them, the world is like a bunch of untainted roses that blossom under the radiant sunlight of immaculacy.

So this is what innocence was; a safeguard from the cruel reality of the real world. It is an attribute that applied to children who ignored the bad instances in life and kept their head held high. Chaeyoung and Sana are prime example of that thought. Even though Sana lost her father and Chaeyoung lost her hearing, and that there is a huge possibility that those things would never return, they became resilient and managed to move on with their lives. Those spunky girls knew how to find happiness in every single situation, whether the issue was intensely crucial or simply mild.

Other than throwing a short outburst, Nayeon is good at shaking things off as well. A sign outside specifies the age limit that declares who gets to ride the carousel and who doesn't. Nayeon and I don't fit the age range, nor the height and weight requirements.

The clarinetist bursts into a fit of laughter at this, "Being an adult , doesn't it? Playtime slips out of your hands and the next thing you knew, your whole life is tapping on the world and then when the world turns around to look you in the eye, you forget what to say."

I shrugged, "I never had playtime, not even when I was six." 

Her eyes widen, "Have you ever rode a carousel before? Let alone any amusement park ride?"

"I don't have the courage to do those kinds of things", I muttered.

"One day, The 'Crack Squad' and I are going to throw you and Momo on a rollercoaster and strap you to a GoPro just to record your reactions", Nayeon teases, "You know Luna Park on Coney Island? They have a sick rollercoaster there."

"I've never been to Coney Island."

"You're ing kidding me", Nayeon laughs, "You're a native New Yorker and you've never ventured to the other boroughs in the city?"

"I thought I told you about not having playtime when I was younger", I reinstated.

Her shoulders slacken, "Sorry, I forgot."

I never asked for playtime once I picked up an instrument; I let my parents do the bidding because I used to believe that adults always knew best. I just figured as a child that my suffering would pay off in the long run, similiarly to Cinderella, who had to bust her off working for her evil stepmother and stepsisters until Prince Charming finally came to the rescue. Suffering to me meant hours spent practicing, auditioning, not being able to roam around the house without being watched twenty-four-seven, not being allowed to have the freedom that my friends got to bask in. I thought it would put me ahead of everyone else once adulthood hit. Yes, I am ahead of everyone, but only until I completely lose my hearing.

I've waited... and waited... and waited for that pumpkin to turn into a carriage. But in the end, that carriage will become a pumpkin once again. Adulthood is realizing that you've invested a lot of time not for a gaudy carriage and a resplendent dress, but for a ing pumpkin all along.

"That's not why I invited you on this walk, though", Nayeon cleared after disposing the empty chestnut bag, "I wanted to have a deep conversation with you about something you're struggling with in the present, and perhaps something that I've been struggling with in the past."

"Wh-What?" I choked.

"Mina", Nayeon turns, but too slowly to be considered normal, "I know that your parents are struggling with alcoholism. It's all over the news."

Of course this story would be on the news. Of ing course.

"Sana or I might've told you this before, but just as a reminder, I don't live with my parents anymore. When Reina kicked me out of the group, I fell victim to depression and a drug addiction. My grades slipped, The Six acquired my Snapchat nudes from JB and spread them all over the internet, and my dad kicked me out of the house, with my mom reluctantly agreeing."

"I knew that", I said, adjusting my linen scarf on top of my faux fur-hooded jacket.

"After my parents left, I disguised my pain through drugs and control. Drugs provided an instant, closely-bonded social network for me", there's sadness in Nayeon's eyes, too brown and too glossy, "I hated myself, and I was terrified of letting anyone in."

"My goodness..." hearing this made my insides ache. Tears could spring up in my eyes at any minute.

"But here's other the part that you don't know", Nayeon cuts in, "Actually, let's move somewhere else — preferrably someplace with less people."

The Bethesda Terrace, overlooking The Lake that was shedding from its sheet of ice, had no trace of human life in it. It's considered as the "heart of Central Park", but a heart cannot function without the breath of life that seethes within the city. The golden tears of the surrounding trees had dried out since the end of November. Half-light of the evergreens pose as dark silhouettes blending in with the grey buildings, standing starkly against the snow. Another sign indicates a structure of guidelines that all visitors must follow: No running, no rollerblading, no bike-riding, no organized sports, no live music, don't feed the birds, dogs must be leashed at all times — the list goes on. It's very morbid here.

"I've moved on", Nayeon breathes her answer into the cold air at me.

"Moved on?" I hesitantly replied. 

The clarinetist heavily sighs, hunching her body over the metal railing separating the earth from the terrace pond below, her gaze drifting off into the empty sky filled with no sign of clouds. I was about to voice something before Nayeon cut in with a sincere tone, "I quit smoking and I signed up for enough classes to be able to graduate this year, and that's because I moved on from the events that I've been bottling up in my head."

"Moving on isn't going to be easy, you know", I blatantly answered, throwing a small stone into the pond as I watched the soft ripples represent my monotonous life: Practice, practice, practice, and then perform before repeating the process all over again.

"You're right, it's not", Nayeon puts the truth out there as well, "It will take time, especially for you since the ordeal with your parents has been present since you were a kid. With every broken relationship comes baggage — a mixture of sadness, disappointment, and even more intense emotions like anger, fear, shame, grief, and etcetera. It's natural to have these emotions."

I remained silent again, fidgeting with my fingers in the reflection of myself through the lake. 

"You're allowed to have those emotions", Nayeon speaks up again, "Cry if you must. That's the first step in the process of moving on, which is  acknowledging and accepting those feelings and events, and most importantly taking time out of yourself to process what you're feeling. Don't rush this. You'll probably need more time than me to recover."

"I know that it takes a lot time", I stressed, throwing yet another stone into the lake as our bodily reflections became ripples, "And I've been emotionally wasted since my conversation with Ms. Chan yesterday. I just don't know how long it's going to take for me to move on from this."

"For me, it wasn't a walk in the park", Nayeon says this and chuckles at the thought of us being at a park, "It took days to accept the fact that Reina wouldn't let me back in her group. It took weeks and a negative bank account for me to accept that I was depending on drugs as a stress-reliever. It took months and a closed front door for me to accept that my parents didn't want me in their lives anymore. But the hardest thing for me was accepting the fact that I was being a complete jerk to you. Your situation with your parents made me realized that you were probably just scared."

Looking through the cold waters of the lake was like peering though perfect glass, unstained and unsmudged by the sticky prints of small children. Nayeon is a different person now, far compared to how she was a few months ago. She's so much more patient and understanding.

If Ms. Chan mentions my friends, Nayeon will be the first person that I recapitulate to her.

Nayeon is right again. I was scared; scared of tainting my own reputation for leaving Reina, scared of not reaching the expectations of other people, but most importantly, scared of my parents. Looking back to how I was before I joined the Pops Orchestra, I've become more resilient. If it wasn't for them, I would've not had the courage to rat out on Reina for doing injustice to Chaeyoung or speak up against my parents at Paris.

All this time, I moved on without fully acknowledging it.     

"The point is..." Nayeon is struggling for sentences, "I'm so sorry. Even though I have personal experiences, I'm not a psychologist and I can't be eloquent in this subject. I'm just worried about you lingering on melancholy when you could be doing what you love instead. And in addition, I don't want you to make the same stupid mistakes that I did when I was at this stage of grief."

She's got a point. I'm going to lose my hearing soon and I need to enjoy what I have now before it's all gone.

"It's okay", I said remorsefully, pulling her into a hug, "I appreciate you for coming out here and taking the time to reach out to me."

Nayeon snuggled in, "You've never been the first person to initiate a hug before."

"It's a start", I said, my arms locking in a fraction tighter.

"You don't have to go through this alone either. I would've not healed if I hadn't met Jihyo", her smile glistens, "I'll be there, as well as Sana, and Chaeyoung, and the others. Friends are there for a reason — to support you, to shower you with love, and pull you through this period."

Dammit, Mina. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"By the way", she begins before a single teardrop could escape my eye, "After rehearsals, I'm going to a Harlem nightclub with Chaeyoung and Eunha. It's called the Asian Invasion and Eunha has connections with the promoter. My gut tells me that you've never been clubbing before and that new experiences like these could probably raise your spirits a bit. Just wear casual clothing."

"Nayeon", I released her from my embrace, "I don't want to drink."

"No alcohol. Just boba and Asian music", Nayeon gleams, "Just to clear your mind a bit, and perhaps enjoy yourself."

"Wait", I raised an eyebrow, "Who the hell runs this club?"

She just laughs, "You'll see!"

The Eighteenth Measure 

A one-and-a-half mile line stretches from the entrance of the venue to the Harlem Meer in Central Park North. Luckily, we are not a part of this convoluted mess. Eunha, whom arrived with Jackson and takeout from Shake Shack, slipped our group through the back door and led is into a backstage area with a snack bar, pool table, Guitar Hero — whatever. Mark and Junior are messing around with the Wii U when Jackson sneaks up from behind and ruffles their heads. I assume that Eunha snuck them in for Jackson's sanity, but that wasn't the case at all.

"How the hell does Junior manage to run a nightclub at the age of twenty-two?" I ask Eunha in disbelief.

"It actually belongs to his cousin — Jay Park", the violinist speaks coolly until her eyes drop to my figure, "But he's touring in Japan so Junior is temporarily taking over. And holy . Nayeon said that it's your first time clubbing? You look ing fine in that dress."

Junior tosses his cue stick to Mark, "Really, Mina? That's your idea of 'casual' clothing?" 

"I don't want to look underdressed!" I insisted. But I have to admit that this sequined dress is itchy as hell.  

"You make the rest of us look underdressed", Jackson tugs on the sleeve of his dragon hoodie.

"Mina's definition of 'underdressing' is overdressing", Eunha jokes with her milkshake straw in .

Mark cuts the crap and faces his friend-slash-host, "So who's performing on stage tonight? Rap Monster? Park Kyung?"

"I brought in a rookie girl group wherein the members come from four different colleges — The Borough of Manhattan Community College, the Manhattan School of Music, the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, and even Juilliard", Junior smirks and Jackson squeals as if meeting more girls would be beneficial to him (it won't, because Eunha is going to become resentful).

"This 'girl group' thing is just a hobby for them. They'll be active for only one year", Eunha makes clear. Jackson's shoulders sulk in disappointment.

"How many members?" Nayeon questions out of curiosity.

"Eleven", Junior answers and it stumps me. That's a lot of girls.

"You should open the doors before the crowd outside dies from hypothermia", Mark suggests while clearing up the pool table.

Asian Invasion opened up at around ten o-clock at night and thousand of people spill into the venue like herds of sheep, taking up every last crevice until the floor below us became invisible. This isn't a typical nightclub where there are cat fights, people are getting wasted, and obnoxiously loud music proceeding to shatter everybody's eardrums from high definition speakers. Nobody is drunk and nobody is engaging in a brawl. The club is electric tonight, everyone feeding off of the smiles and dancing to a co-ed group named K.A.R.D.. The music is a drug that brings me higher, higher until my mind buzzes with pure joy. I never paid attention to K-pop in the past, but I'm digging this.

Nayeon sneaks me through the crowd, a bee line for the bar where Chaeyoung is chilling on a velvet stool and sipping on pearl milk tea. She's wearing a marvelous black dress with a lovely lattice web along a simple, curved neckline and elegant sleeves. 

Chaeyoung set her drink down, "You actually came?"

"Nayeon insisted", I said, snagging the empty seat next to her. 

The bartender (whom Chaeyoung calls the "bobatender") swinged by and asked me for my order. I haven't had boba in a while, so I had Chaeyoung decide my drink for me. In between our drinks, a waitress shifts over a platter of Korean-styled fried chicken; lightly tossed in a sweet, spicy, and garlicky glaze; brushed over with a thin layer of sauce; and sprinkled with sesame seeds and green onions for extra crunchiness. 

"I'm glad that you're in a better mood", is the first sentence that Chaeyoung conjures up in her head.
 
I shrugged, sipping from my taro milk tea while Chaeyoung consumes half of the fried chicken plate, "I guess I needed a different environment."

"This is a really good song", she sighs, her lips glossy from the fried chicken sauce, then she pulled out her phone to text something to me.

[Son Chaeyoung] K.A.R.D is just a rookie group but I earnestly believe that they deserve more success in the music industry. The pop music industry isn't that much different from the classical music industry — if you're from a reputable company with legitimate artists, you'll garner more attention from the masses. Likewise if you attend a reputable institution like Juilliard or Eastman, which has a ton of famous alumni, orchestral music directors will think highly of you when they look at your resumé.

"Wait", I gasped, "You can hear the music?"

Chaeyoung pointed to her ears, "Hearing aids, remember?"

"Oh yeah."

Chaeyoung wiped off the sauce from her lips, "By the way, did you apply for the those two orchestras?" 

"I did", I mentioned.

Chaeyoung whipped out her phone again.

[Son Chaeyoung] During one of my classes, SinB told me that Yerin is auditioning for the New York Philharmonic. Jun, Mingyu, and Jennie's friend, Kim Jisoo, too. None of them think that they're going to get accepted for a position, but they're willing to try.

[Mina Myoui] You'll never know. Yuri was accepted into the London Symphony Orchestra at the age of twenty-two.

[Son Chaeyoung] And Sunny was accepted into the Berlin Philharmonic when she was twenty-three.

I don't know why, but I suddenly feel at ease when Chaeyoung mentioned that Yerin and the others would be auditioning for the New York Philharmonic. Maybe it's the thought of everyone following their dreams and doing their best in what they do, despite knowing that only one person will win the position in the end. New York City is a place where dreams are made and destroyed.

My cousins tell me that I’m stupid; stupid for risking a lot for a very small chance of greatness. But you know what? I'm not scared anymore. Like Nayeon said, I can overcome. I'm going to do what I love and do it my way, even if it means that I'm going to ultimately lose all of my hearing.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Junior, the momentary club promoter, makes his entrance with a pair of oversized sunglasses and a booming voice. It startles me; he's a completely different person outside of Juilliard — he's not restrained like he usually is in half of my classes. "Thanks for coming out to 'rookie night' listen and support these hidden talents. And thanks to our performers today: K.A.R.D., SNUPER, Playback, Zico, Dean — really, you guys are fantastic. You guys truly graced the stage tonight, and we wish the best for your debut."

All hand-clapping resumed as Junior's speech ended. He introduces the next group for the night — an eleven-member girl group that goes by the name of eye-oh-eye or whatever. Eunha and Junior about them backstage, and the fact that the members attend different colleges within the city. 

The lights slowly dimmed as the final half of this extravaganza was about to make its crescendo. Junior made his way backstage and the crowd intiated another round of applause for this temporary girl group. I counted the heads and indeed, there were eleven girls all clothed in pastel pink and blue skirts and tank tops. Ribbons donned their wavy hair whereas high tops and knee-lengthed socks hugged their long legs and feet.

"MARRY ME JEON SOMI!" a high-pitched man hollered from the crowd.

I choked on my drink, "Somi is here?"

"Nayeon didn't tell you?" Chaeyoung furrowed her brow, slipping her phone out of her pocket again. 

[Son Chaeyoung] Somi is a member of this girl group, although it's understandable that you didn't realize this until now. Somi has been keeping this fact on a low-down because you know, The Six. Who knows what their reaction would be?

I nearly forgot about The Six. Jesus. So Somi has been hiding something from them too?

Their first three songs are entitled Pick Me, Very Very Very, and Crush. For the majority of their stage, Somi was the most prominent among eleven different faces. She's a crowd favorite and it shows when she runs up to the stage front and gives out high-fives to her blood-thirsty fans. It throws me off course because she upholds an entirely different persona when she's on stage compared to when she's with The Six — undying energy, euphoria, and confidence surged in her veins. Somi danced like nobody was watching, even though everyone watched her.

"Our last song is called Dream Girls. It may sound cliché but there's valuable message within it", Nayoung, whom I also didn't realize was a member of this group until now, is in charge of the mic. She waits for the crowd to settle down before continuing their talk.

Then she hands the mic over to Yoojung — another member that stumps me because she's normally in my house washing dishes and stuff, "It's about a girl chasing her dreams and doing what she loves the most, despite the judgements that outward forces give her. Please listen!" 

BONUS (In Loving Memory)

Monday: January 18, 2021

The boughs of the cemetery twist like misshapen bones, twitching in a silent scream. Sana brushed a tear off her face as she stared at the nameplate of her father's grave at Washington D.C.’s Syrian War Memorial Cemetery. Since the outbreak in March 2011, the conflict in Syria had cost the lives of more than four-hundred thousand people, displaced millions more, and involved countless atrocities and crimes against humanity. Sana had already gone through the stages of 'moving on', but it's natural to cry in a sanctuary meant for the dead. 

His grave was located under a covered passageway that consisted of a metallic, sixteen-feet archway embellished with white starflowers dangling down from their stems. The display made it seem like the pearly stars in the night sky that her father never had a chance to catch, each star representing every day he spent away from his family. His death was too sudden; so unexpected that it made Sana weary at the fact that he didn't even get to hear her playing in full blossom. He didn't even get a chance to say a proper goodbye.

A tap behind Sana's shoulders bring her to reality, "H-huh?"

Sana looked up at the taller woman to get a better perspective of her appearance. In one of her tremendously frail hands, she was holding a bouquet of red roses gingerly wrapped around a gold ribbon. She laid the flowers down in front of her father's grave so she could communicate to Sana.

"Hello, my daughter. I've missed you."

Here's the other missing piece of the puzzle. Sana had learned sign language way before she knew Chaeyoung. Why? Her mother is deaf.

Sana’s mother let her cold breath decorate the chiseled air of the cemetery atmosphere. Noting the particular depth of the reticent mood her stray companion was expliciting, she lays a comforting hand on her daughter’s shoulder, following Sana’s deviant gaze into the starry sky. Again, there were no shooting stars that night; just plain white stars standing miles away from their presence. 

"Mom", she breathed, releasing her hands from her pockets, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm going to the presidential inauguration ceremony, mainly to hear you and your Uncle Takayuki perform for the president", she giggled, her voice almost just as high-pitched as her daughter's, "But of course, I'm paying respects to your father while I'm here in D.C."

Tears were blooming in her eyes, "You came all the way from San Francisco just to hear me perform?"

Her soft lips stretched into a genuine smile, "Of course. And I'm going to watch your orchestra perform 'The Ring' cycle in March." 

The dread creeps over Sana like an icy chill. She feels her stomach is full of lead; her feet are set in concrete; her mind is astonishingly empty.

"My dear", she begins, "You seem troubled. Tell me." 

"I'm an idiot", Sana admitted, her mind rewinding to the scene where she held the festival trophy in her arms, "I put too much work on myself and now I feel stressed. It's like, I can't find a way to enjoy music after accumulating all of this fame. I'm just doing my best not to disappoint anybody."

"It's not selfish to take care of yourself", her mom's concerned face was suddenly full of optimism, "Ironically, your father was the same. He took on the most duties when he was in the military, fearing that he was being viewed as a burden by the other soldiers." 

"If only dad was here", an automatic response escaped from her fingers. Sana could feel the tears coming, but she immediately forced them back.

"He is always watching you from up there", her mom points to the sky decorated in diamonds that people call 'stars', "And I'm a hundred percent sure that he's proud of what you've accomplished. Those that we lose don't go away; they walk beside us every day — unseen and unheard. Don't feel guilty about yourself just like your father did; live your life and be free. With every breath that you take, you'll take one for your father."

"I'm lucky to have you as a mother", Sana complimented, showing a content smile on her previously gloomy face as she rearranged the blotchy flower display on her father's grave, "You're nothing like any of the other teachers I had."

"Thank you", her mom smiled, "And don't be afraid to share your feelings with Mina and Chaeyoung. They'd be more than happy to talk to you."

"Mina and Chaeyoung?"

"Chaeyoung told me that she and Mina have been worried for you ever since you left yesterday without saying goodbye", her mom mentioned, gaping at Chaeyoung's text message displayed on the bright screen of her smartphone.

A/N: Sorry for being late on the update. I've been sick recently and barely had any strength to get up and write. But I'm feeling much better now :) The process of healing for Mina will be a slow one. I wanted to make her progress as realistic as possible, so there will be times when the topic of her parents will be touched on again (Not in an abrupt way, of course). I just wanted to point this out just in case I left you guys hanging or if you had any lingering questions in your head after the end of this chapter.

Characters