During the weekend he had decided to quit every other minute, but still he kept working on next week's homework project. They were supposed to finish the song they had been working on and turn it into a produced version. Even with a fully composed winning song, which he didn't have, it was madness to think one could properly produce it in one week, not counting the time that was taken away by other classes, for professor Kim's class was far from being the only class with unrealistic homework. It was weird how no teacher seemed to realize that their class wasn't the only class in the world.

For once in his life he decided to be brave and gamble his whole future on this one opportunity. He ignored all other classes, all other obligations, cutting class, calling in sick in his part time job and even giving up sleeping. He spent every waking hour working on the song, not taking a break until his nose started bleeding. The only thing that kept him going was the thought that he was going to show professor Kim that not only did he deserve to be there, but that he was lucky to have him. He clenched his teeth, using the fire in his chest to drive him in the creation of the best song that the world had ever heard.

At 23:59 he pressed the send button and collapsed into his bed, falling asleep in his clothes without washing his face or even brushing his teeth.

The moment his alarm started screaming at him the next morning, he felt as if he had only closed his eyes for a few seconds. He was so tired, his body refused to do his bidding, lying motionless like a rock in a fit of stubbornness. His eyelids got heavier and heavier, threatening to shut him off again and banish him to the island of dreams, even though he was getting late for class. No, he couldn't skip class again, he had skipped every single class last week in order to finish his song in time. He was already in enough trouble as it was, he couldn't afford any more. With all the strength he had, he forced himself to leave his cozy bed behind and off to school he went.

"Bobby Kim!".

He heard a voice far far away call his name, but it was too far away to make out whose voice it was. Suddenly, something hit him right on the side of his ribs, something sharp. He coughed and opened his eyes, realizing he had fallen asleep. Thanks to Jinhwan, who had not so gently elbowed him in the ribs, he had woken up just in time to present his homework, homework he hadn't done. Not ready to become a failure in every class he was taking, he stood up, determined to babble his way out of this, sending Jinhwan a thankful wink, glad that they had all the same classes. And babble he did. It was perhaps not the best presentation he had ever done, but since he was majoring in his hobby, he actually knew quite a bit already and so was able to bull his way out of this mess.

The moment he entered professor Kim's classroom, his heart got stuck in his throat. He tried to swallow it, without success.

"Alright, we're going to listen to the three best songs and then I'll hand out individual critiques to everyone. Settle down and listen. I'll make no introduction, but afterwards we'll discuss what makes those songs good and what could still be made better. If one of these songs are yours, well done. If not, you need to start thinking long and hard about why you came here and what you are prepared to do to stay." the professor announced. The atmosphere became charged with fear and panic in an instant. The professor had a knack for creating just such an uncomfortably intense atmosphere.

Listening to the silence, Bobby held his breath, hoping his efforts hadn't been in vain. But as the first tones of the first song danced playfully around the room, his heart sank to the bottom of his gut. It wasn't his. His song was full of pain, his own, while this one seemed not to have a care in the world, happily skipping along in a bright, colorful fashion. He was surprised the professor had picked such a happy song, he thought he wasn't capable of experiencing that kind of emotions, or any emotions at all.

He felt a slim finger poke his arm. Jinhwan was grinning like an idiot, his body moving in rhythm with the beat. Clearly it was his song. Bobby had to use every cell in his body to block the jealousy from invading his heart, giving Jinhwan the thumbs up, trying to be supportive. After all, there were still two songs yet to come, there was still hope.

When the second song started however, a slightly boring ballad, Bobby started losing hope. Not only that, but he couldn't help but fill with anger. Probably each and every student in this room was thinking their song was the best, incapable of objectivity, but it wasn't only that. He had listened to copious amounts of music in his lifetime, not only as a pastime, but also studying how they were composed, comparing good or successful songs to ones that seemed lacking somehow, trying to figure out what it was that made a good song. And in his amateur professional opinion, this ballad was definitely lacking. Of course his song wasn't perfect, but he really believed it was better than this one, at least from a composer's point of view.

The third song wasn't his either. He wasn't even surprised. Instead of feeling angry, he felt nothing. It was as if something had broken inside of him. He had given up. He didn't have the energy to fight anymore. Of course his song didn't have to be bad not to be in the top three, and had it been just any song he whipped up, that would have been okay. But he poured his soul into this one. He really had done his best this time and if his best wasn't good enough, there wasn't really anything more he could do.

As the professor handed out his critiques, Bobby just sat there, dazed. He knew not to expect anything by now. He was even starting to regret having followed his dream, instead of picking something more practical and safe. He had really believed he had that something you needed to get ahead in this industry, that x-factor, but apparently he had just been kidding himself.

He tried to make eye-contact with the professor when he handed him a single piece of paper, but all the professor could see was his star student, Jinhwan, who was beaming back, holding what looked like the draft to a 500 page book. Giving up, Bobby looked at the single white page he was holding. There was only one word written on it.

INCOMPLETE.

Bobby just stared at it, glancing over at Jinhwan's essay of praises and back at his empty page, no, he would rather it be empty. It was worse than empty. He flipped the page over, but there was nothing there. He read that short but sour word over and over again. Incomplete. It was basically saying that his soul was incomplete. He was just half a man and this was the end of his career. He hadn't expected things to come easy, but he had never expected his career to be over before it even started.

After handing out the last of the reports, the professor swung by his table on his way to the front of the class, unexpectedly and quite brutally slamming a post-it on top of his paper.

'If you are not satisfied with your grade, make an appointment.

010-2545-8924'