Night Kiss

by E. T. Malinowski

  “American country….” Jong-in shuddered.

  “I figure they were trying to step out of the expected genre, trying something different. Some of it wasn’t bad. I liked the Kyoto drums too. Let’s hope the next group is better,” Jin-woo said. “We have a lot of talented people in our class.”

  Ten minutes later, they were back in their seats, waiting for the presentations to begin. Jin-woo crossed his fingers. He knew his classmates could do this. He wasn’t sure what the first six people were thinking, but he hoped the others did well. Then the next song began and Jin-woo smiled. Yeah, this one got it. Strong beat, energetic melody in major, tempo switching up before hitting with another drop, and they mixed a little blues in too. He leaned over to Min-su.

  “I like this one,” he said. “Tae-ri hubae did a great job.”

  “He did,” she said with a smile. “I like the blues, gives it a different sound than what we’re used to hearing.”

  Jin-woo cast a quick glance at Soon-joon as he straightened in his seat. His expression wasn’t as dark as it had been before the break. That had to be a good sign. The next two songs were really good, very much pop, and had a palpable energy to them. They were positive, happy, good-times songs that he could picture listening to while driving to the beach. Most of Bam Kisue’s music had a sultry overtone to it, but there had been a couple pieces at the beginning of their career that had the same type of feeling, so these songs were still in keeping with their style, just their earlier style.

  By the time they reached the second break, Jin-woo was tapping his foot and bobbing along with just about every song. He couldn’t help the smile that lit his face. He knew they could do it. And then the most discordant sound ever hit his ears. It was so sharp it was painful.

  “Oh my God, who made this and can we make them never do it again?” he gasped as the notes crashed into each other, conflicting in tone and pitch. Hell, the song didn’t even stay in the same key from beginning to end, and it wasn’t as if it was a smooth transition. The damn thing skipped like a rock on a lake.

  “Make it stop.” Jong-in’s voice was close enough for him to hear. Jin-woo turned to see him curled in his chair, his hands over his ears as if he were in pain. It wouldn’t surprise Jin-woo if he was. This wasn’t music; this was noise, chaotic noise. Then it hit him. Shifter hearing, Jong-in really was in pain. Jin-woo rubbed his back, not sure what else to do to help Jong-in.

  “I don’t get how she willingly made something like this,” Min-su said. “Mei hubae’s always been fairly good with her engineering, if a bit repetitive.”

  “Mei hubae made this crap?” Jin-woo was shocked. “Was she drunk at the time? Stoned? Both? Please tell me there’s a logical reason for this.”

  “If there is, I have no idea what it is,” Min-su said as she rubbed Jong-in’s back as well.

  Fortunately a minute later, the sound stopped and the silence was deafening. Jin-woo looked for Mei only to find her staring at him with an unreadable expression. It was as if she was there, but not, and it was decidedly creepy. Then she shook her head and smiled at him brightly, which was somehow more disturbing.

  As the winners of part one, Jin-woo, Min-su, and Jong-in’s entries were last. Jin-woo would have to say about 20 percent of the songs submitted were in no way geared toward Bam Kiseu’s style. That gave them the advantage. They knew the music, loved it, in fact, even before their internship. However, the other 75 percent had been damn good. Well, except for Mei’s. There was no way anyone in their right mind would have even dared to call that music, let alone good music, and even the other songs that weren’t in Bam Kiseu’s style were better than that audio chaos.

  As if you saw right through me,

  Saw deep into my heart.

  Your words, meant only for me to hear.

  You reach out your hand, draw me near.

  Your eyes so deep and dark, your voice so sweet and low.

  You caught me, now, don’t let go.

  As Min-su’s submission played, he could picture her writing it, staring at Cheongul’s face all over the wall behind her desk… and across from her bed. Jin-woo wondered if she’d taken him to her apartment yet but wasn’t about to ask. She’d hit him. The song was poppy and energetic, a fun sound, but with some hard beat drops that conveyed the “take no shit” attitude Min-su had.

  Caught me, in your eyes

  You’ve caught me now

  You hold me, do you know

  Are you going to love me anyway?

  Are you going to tell me to go?

  Tell me what you want from me

  Tell me what you need

  I’ll give my heart, give you every part of me

  But I don’t share and I don’t play games

  Take me as I am or walk away

  Your eyes may have caught me

  But I’m not the type you can play.

  The lyrics flowed, conveying both the worry and the determination of the singer. He found himself bouncing to it and could totally see Gojira’s choreography in his head.

  Caught me, in your eyes

  I’m afraid of your hold

  Caught me, in your smile

  I’m scared you’ll let me go

  Caught me, in my heart

  Can you promise me

  We can take this slow

  Jin-woo liked it a lot. He elbowed her and smiled brightly.

  “That is freaking awesome,” he said, bumping her shoulder. “I love the way you added those hard drops. It screams ‘Min-su-ya’ to me.”

  She blushed. “Thanks. I can’t wait to hear yours and Jong-in-a’s. You guys are better than me at the musical portion.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. Soon-joon-nim looks a little bit happier now!” Jin-woo laughed.

  “He was looking a bit… stormy,” Min-su said. “I would be too. I thought some of our classmates would make more of an effort, but it looks like they didn’t even bother, just did the songs according to what they liked. I’m glad the rest took this seriously. I think Tae-ri hubae’s song was awesome. I’d produce it.”

  “That’s not going to work in their favor in this industry,” Jong-in said and then took a sip of his coffee. “Did you see Hyun-jo ya taking notes? I think they’ve made a list of people to watch for. I think Soon-joon-nim started tapping along. His fingers were moving.”

  A distance hope well beyond my reach.

  When I close my eyes, I see you before me.

  You take my hand, the faintest brush,

  Your fingers against mine.

  Yet that simple touch,

  Sends pleasure through me in a rush.

  I feel so alive, but you’re only a dream.

  Jong-in slouched down in his seat as the first notes of his composition played, pulling his hood up. Jin-woo’s throat tightened as he listened to the words. The song was in minor, lending such a sad tone, an almost hopeless feeling to it, but there were parts of the melody that lifted it.

  I can’t speak the words.

  They won’t cross my lips.

  A moment, a blink in time,

  Where everything was perfect.

  Imagining you were mine,

  But that was just imaginary.

  You’ll forget me soon.

  A crazy wistful dream,

  To think I mean anything to you.

  The notes were complex, the beats subtle until the drop for the chorus.

  Untainted, unsullied, untouched,

  Your smile is a fantasy.

  Untainted,

  Your love is a ghost.

  Untainted,

  You’re a dream,

  Best left untainted by reality.

  It was beautiful, and Jin-woo could only picture one person singing it: HanYin. There could be no other singer. This song was written for and about HanYin.

  I can’t keep you,

  No matter how hard I try.

  I’m bound up in my dream,

  Smoke and mirrors, a lie.

  Y
ou were the one bright spot,

  The one shining star.

  But it’s not meant to be,

  I can’t take it that far.

  Jin-woo took his sleeve and wiped the tears from his eyes.

  “Didn’t mean to make you cry,” Jong-in said when he sniffled.

  “It’s a sad song, but I detect a note of hope in it, and I’m glad that hope happened,” Jin-woo said. “You two are good together.”

  “Yours is next,” Jong-in said. “Wonder what you wrote about.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  By the middle of his song, Jong-in and Min-su were gawking at him, their mouths hanging open. Jin-woo’s face heated, and he slouched just like Jong-in had done. Min-su grabbed his arm and yanked him up as the chorus began. “You wrote a freaking duet?”

  “It didn’t start out that way,” Jin-woo mumbled. “It just sort of happened.”

  “You sang both sides,” Jong-in said. “You changed your octaves. What the hell is your range?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Bullshit,” Min-su said succinctly. “What is it?”

  “I never really thought about it. I guess it’s four at most, maybe. No big deal.” They gaped at him and Jin-woo felt the urge to squirm. “What? My dad taught me.”

  Before they could respond, Jin-woo noticed the silence of the room. He looked around and saw everyone staring at him. He felt the panic kicking in, the anxiety and lightheadedness. He couldn’t take this. He really wanted to get up and leave, but he knew if he stood up, he was going to fall flat on his face. That would just top his day. Spots danced before his eyes.

  The next thing he knew, Min-su yanked his chair out with one hand, and Jong-in grabbed the back of his head and shoved it between his knees. It served the dual purpose of snapping him out of his panic and relieving the resulting nausea. He was spared from further scrutiny by the clearing of someone’s throat. Teacher Kim stood in front of the seats, his hands folded in front of him. He didn’t look too happy. Jin-woo straightened up and pushed his hair off his face, trying to ignore how he’d just embarrassed himself.

  “Soon-joon-nim, Rhim Hyun-jo dongsaeng, and I will retire to one of the smaller conference rooms to deliberate on these submissions. Before we do so, however, I feel I must express my disappointment. I specifically advised researching the band you were writing for. I was clear in what factors needed to be taken into consideration when you were composing these songs. I heard several submissions that showed a blatant disregard for the men who would be performing the winning piece. It smacked of disrespect, and that is unacceptable,” he said. “If I can take the time to do the research to adequately judge the music I am listening to, I expect no less from my students. We will be discussing each submission at our next series of conferences. Rest assured some of you will not be receiving full credits for them.”

  With those words hanging in the air, the three men left the room. Once the door closed behind them, everyone started murmuring. Several people shot glances his way, but Jin-woo couldn’t be bothered to notice. He kept choking up, thinking about his mom and dad. He knew they would be so proud of him, and he had wished, more than once, they were here to see this.

  “I’ve never heard you sing,” Jong-in said.

  “I don’t sing in front of people anymore,” Jin-woo said quietly. “I haven’t in a long time.”

  “I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again. Your parents wouldn’t want you to hide your gift,” Min-su said.

  “I’m not hiding it,” Jin-woo said. “I just… I can’t sing in front of other people. If you think my panic attacks are bad now? Put me in front of a live audience, and I will turn into a quivering pile of screaming, crying crazy. You saw what happened at the very idea of singing ‘Crossing Time’ with Bam Kiseu in a few weeks.”

  “You’re going to perform with them?” The strident voice made Jin-woo jump. He snapped his head up to see Mei standing in front of him. Her entire body was tense, and the fury in her eyes was completely out of place.

  “It’s rude to eavesdrop,” Min-su growled.

  “Tell me that’s not true, Jin-woo,” Mei demanded, ignoring Min-su. “Tell me you’re not going to belittle yourself by performing with… them.”

  “Firstly, I did not give permission for you to speak to me so familiarly,” Jin-woo said. “Secondly, I don’t have to tell you anything, and thirdly, it’s really none of your business to begin with.”

  “What are you freaking out for, anyway?” Min-su said. “Bam Kiseu is our favorite band. To be onstage with them would be an honor and damned fun.”

  “Of course you would think so.” Mei snorted before turning her attention back to Jin-woo. Seriously, what was her problem? She pressed closer, and he was glad there was a desk separating them. He didn’t think she would have stopped before she was right in his lap—ew. “You won’t perform with them, right, Jin-woo? You are so much better than that, so much nicer and sweeter.”

  “You need to step back,” Jong-in said. “And he already told you he didn’t give you leave to address him so informally.”

  “I’m not talking to either of you!” she snapped. “I’m talking to Jin-woo.”

  “And now you’re done,” Jin-woo said coldly. “I refuse to talk to someone who is rude and disrespectful to not only my friends, but to me as well. You should return to your seat. Try practicing consistent pitch and tone or something, maybe staying in the same key throughout a song. I don’t know. Just do it somewhere away from me.”

  Mei looked as if he’d slapped her, and in a sense, he had. However, she had been told twice not to address him inappropriately and hadn’t listened. If she hadn’t been rude to Min-su and Jong-in, he might have been a little less cold, but Jin-woo didn’t think so.

  She’d gone flat in several spots, and the key changed from verse to chorus, sometimes midverse. The melody was discordant, and Jin-woo didn’t think that was on purpose. No, either she hadn’t paid attention in any of the classes on composition, just didn’t care, or had no skill. As he’d heard some of her previous work, he knew it wasn’t a lack of skill or attention. He wasn’t sure what it was, beyond painful to listen to.

  She narrowed her eyes and the muscles in her jaw tensed. Then she turned and walked away without another word. He sighed in relief and relaxed in his seat. “What is with her lately?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t think that girl is playing with a full deck,” Jong-in said. “I….”

  “What is it?” Jin-woo asked.

  “The way she acts toward you, the way she’s gotten more… obsessive, Jin-woo, is it possible she’s your stalker?” Jong-in said.

  “Could she have done all that damage? Smashed my coffee table? The couch? All that stuff and then cleared it all away? She’s about my height, but skinnier,” Jin-woo said. “I mean unless there’s something… special about her, she just wouldn’t have the physical strength, right?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just she’s gotten really weird.”

  “She is definitely stressed out, but you can talk to Soon-joon nim and see what he thinks,” Min-su said. “Why would she participate in this scholarship if she didn’t like Bam Kiseu? Did you hear how she referred to them? As if they were tainted or something. Girl is definitely not a pop fan.”

  “I wish they would hurry up.” Jin-woo sighed. “I have so much other work to do.”

  “Work? You just want to see Ki-tae-ya.” Min-su chuckled, and then she sobered a little bit. “Cheongul’s been so tired lately. They’re working really hard to be ready for this concert.”

  “HanYin said they were looking at twenty-five to thirty songs,” Jong-in said. “That isn’t really surprising. They’re known for that, with just enough breaks spaced out through the concert to make sure they don’t overdo it. Still, that’s a lot.”

  “That’s about two hours of performing with crowd popping,” Min-su said. Jin-woo smiled. He loved that term “crowd popping.” She used it when referring to the
idols getting the crowd worked up between songs. “Plus they’re going to perform whichever song is chosen here. They’ll need to work that in along with any new choreography. Goo-ji unnie is working them hard on the older dance moves as it is.”

  Jin-woo nodded. “I caught a rehearsal the other day. Now I know why they call her Gojira.”

  “Ever wonder if she knows they call her that?” Jong-in asked.

  “She does.” Min-su chuckled. “The funny thing is she loves those movies.”

  “How do you know that?” Jin-woo asked.

  “We’ve hung out a couple of times, talked on the phone. She’s really pretty cool.” Min-su shrugged. “She knows what they’re capable of, and she refuses to let them do anything less than their best. Still, sometimes I wish she would take it easy on them.”

  The door opened and all sound stopped. The tension shot up as Teacher Kim, Soon-joon, and Hyun-jo returned. They stood in front of the room and said nothing for a few moments. It went on long enough for people to start squirming in their seats. Then Teacher Kim stepped forward.

  “It was a bit problematic to narrow down our choices of songs,” he began. “There were many we listened to a second and even a third time, but in the end, it came down to four. This is where our task became difficult. We had to choose between Tae-ri dongsaeng’s ‘Swept Away by You,’ Min-su dongsaeng’s ‘Caught Me,’ Jong-in dongsaeng’s ‘Untainted,’ and Jin-woo dongsaeng’s ‘Invisible.’ Each one fit perfectly with Bam Kiseu’s genre. Each one addressed the vocal styles of the members, and each one was a high-quality finished product. This tells me they put forth a great deal of effort, knew their client, knew their engineering, and knew their music. Yet we can only pick one. Our choice, by unanimous vote, is ‘Invisible’ by Jin-woo dongsaeng.”

  Jin-woo froze in his seat, unable to move. And then Min-su was hugging him tightly.

  “It’s going to be all right,” she whispered in his ear. “You’ve got this.”

  He hugged her back. When they parted, he nodded to her, smiling his thanks, and rose to his feet. Then he was walking down the aisle to stand with Teacher Kim, Soon-joon, and Hyun-jo. He bowed and shook their hands.