The world I immersed into through the second script was different from before.

'There’s no one here.'

It wasn’t about showing a particular moment from Lee Jae’s life.
I had become Lee Jae himself, free to wander in this space.

Clink.

But it wasn’t easy to move.
The floor was covered with countless shards of broken glass, preventing me from taking even a single step.

The surroundings were dark.
Nothing was visible, a world shrouded in pitch blackness.

'I can start to see it.'

As my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, my surroundings began to take shape.

A large, empty opera hall.
In this vast space, only I—or rather, only Lee Jae—was left standing.

The floor was littered with shards of broken glass, spread out like a carpet.
And I, or rather Lee Jae, was looking down at the stage below.

A worn, dilapidated stage, with no lights to illuminate it, except for a grand piano resting in the center.
It was Lee Jae’s sole pride, the last lifeline he had left.

"I… have to go."

To prove that I had talent.

Clink, clink.

Slowly, I made my way down, stepping over the glass.
This world, incomplete in every sense, was a place where nothing was truly whole.
The only thing that remained unbroken was the piano.

Broken, ruined, lost—everything in this world was fragmented, except for the piano, which stood as the one perfect object.

Crunch, crunch.

As I walked toward the piano, the shards of glass dug into my feet with each step.
Where were my shoes? It didn’t matter.

Creeeeak.

The sound of the piano bench being pulled out was like someone screaming.
Was it the scream my mother made when she broke the jar?
Or was it my own cry when I first felt overwhelming loneliness?

Well, none of that mattered anymore.

Squeak.

The piano lid opened, revealing the keys inside.

The moment my fingers touched the white keys, a sound rang out.

-"Maybe you shouldn’t have been born... No, no, I'm sorry, my dear."

When my tears fell on the black keys, the notes flowed out.

-"I never thought of you as my son. Shouldn't you have followed your mother?"

Horrible words stabbed into me like daggers, piercing my entire body.
Yes, this was a familiar sound.

A hatred so deeply entwined within me that it could never be removed.
I finally understood.

I wasn’t born from hatred.

I was…

 

Back to the present.
PD Kim Young-mo went to the principal’s office to inform him about the use of the grand piano.

Although they had rented the entire school, and there wasn’t really an issue with using it,
it was still morally right to ask for permission.

"...So you’re saying you want to use the grand piano?"
"Yes, that’s right."
"Hmmm..."

The principal’s expression turned troubled.

“To be honest, when I agreed to let you use the entire school, I didn’t bring up the equipment because I knew the actors wouldn’t be able to handle them.”

After learning about the type of filming High Dream would involve,
the principal knew that instruments not learned professionally wouldn’t be used properly, so he had been generous in allowing the use of all the equipment.

But now they wanted to use the grand piano.
Of course, playing the piano wouldn’t damage it, but the idea of a non-professional using such an instrument made him uneasy.

‘It’s already been tuned, so there shouldn’t be any issues.’

After a brief moment of contemplation, the principal nodded and added a condition.

"Could I possibly watch the performance myself?"
"Oh, of course, that won’t be a problem at all."

It’s just about time for the shoot to start, so feel free to come along.

The principal’s mood improved at PD Kim’s straightforward response.
People from broadcasting stations were usually picky, demanding, and thought they were always in control.

‘Hmm, I hope the drama does well.’

The principal whispered a small prayer as he followed PD Kim to the set, where a crowd of staff members had gathered, all centering around one person.

“Is that the boy who’s going to be playing?”
“Yes, that’s actor Kim Dong-hoo.”
"He’s incredibly handsome. I’ve never seen someone that good-looking in my life."

The principal gave his honest opinion.
Having worked at an arts school, he had encountered many talented students, but never had he seen someone with such striking looks.

"Is he going to start playing right away?"
"No, he’s just warming up his fingers for now."
"I see."

After admiring his face, it was time to admire his music.
The principal’s expression turned serious.
While he might watch dramas as a viewer, listening to music was within his professional scope.
His focus shifted automatically.

His gaze moved slowly downwards, and the principal’s eyebrows raised slightly.

“Excuse me, but is this Kim Dong-hoo an actual piano major?”
"No, I’ve never heard anything like that. All I know is that he can play. Is there something wrong?"
"No, no, nothing like that. Haha."

The principal laughed awkwardly, his eyes still fixed on Kim Dong-hoo’s posture.

‘He definitely looks like a piano major.’

From the way he sat at the piano, to the positioning of his feet on the pedals,
to his upright posture and the effortless way his fingers rested on the keys.
Everything about him exuded the aura of a trained professional.

Even habits that only years of effort and practice could engrain into someone were visible.
Then the playing began, and the principal was taken aback.

♪♩♪♩♬♩♪

The light and lively melody flowed effortlessly.

“Wow, he’s really good.”

By general standards, he was top-tier.
With a little more polish, he could easily enroll in the arts high school.

“That’s... amazing. He’s really good!”

"...?"

The principal was surprised by PD Kim’s reaction.
Didn’t they already know how good he was? Why were they acting so shocked?

The principal shrugged.
It didn’t seem like a big deal.
At any rate, with such a level of skill, there shouldn’t be any issues.
The principal was about to leave when PD Kim’s words stopped him.

"If this is just a warm-up, does that mean he’ll play even better during the actual take?"
"Pardon?"
"I don’t know much about piano, but if this is just practice, could he really play even better?"

Now that he mentioned it, that was true.
This was just a simple warm-up.

But if he could play at this level...

‘It’s probably just him showing off.’

To be honest, this was already impressive.
But could he really do better than this?

‘Everyone seems to be falling for the bravado of a 14-year-old.’

At that age, kids tend to exaggerate and tell tall tales.
Just because he said he could play didn’t mean they should expect too much.

The principal glanced around.

As the warm-up ended and the real filming began,
everyone’s faces were filled with anticipation.

What a shame.
When expectations are high, disappointment is even greater.

“Well, yes, it’s certainly possible for him to play even better. We’ll see.”

But the principal decided to nod and stay in place so as not to ruin the mood.

"Okay, we’re ready for the take! Cue!"

With that, the cue was given, and the camera’s red light flickered on.

Doom.

The soft press of the black keys sent a gentle wave throughout the room.

“…!”

The principal’s eyes widened in shock.

 

After the brief piano warm-up, I nodded to the director, indicating that I was ready.

The countless hours of practice through immersion,
my fingers trembled with the eagerness to pour out the music I had learned.

But not yet.
The time wasn’t right.

This performance wasn’t for Kim Dong-hoo to play.
It was for Lee Jae alone.

“Okay, we’re ready for the take! Cue!”

With that permission granted, all emotion drained from my face.

Doom.

As my fingers touched the black keys, hatred surged through me.

-"I never thought of you as my son. Shouldn’t you have followed your mother?"

Ding.

As soon as the white keys echoed their notes, forgotten contempt erupted.

-"Maybe you shouldn’t have been born... No, no, I'm sorry, my dear."

Lee Jae, no, I, had never once looked down from amidst the shattered pieces.
I wasn’t born from hatred.

I was raised in it, fed by it, nurtured by it.
Like a maggot in a broken jar, I grew up in that loathing.

I had lived my life chewing and swallowing hatred.
Yes, I was a flower grown from hatred.

The performance began.

Hatred for my family flowed out through the keys.
Why did they have to shatter while I was so young?
Couldn’t they have just tolerated each other a little longer, made more sacrifices for me?

With each press of the pedal, resentment for the inferior spilled forth.
How could they laugh like that?
Could they really smile as they stared at a discarded trophy in the trash?

How could those more inferior than me...

‘Possess the things I cannot?’

It was both a question and a complex.
They said that with talent and ability, you could have everything.
So why was it that the things I wanted most were always beyond my reach?

That’s why I hated them.
Their idiotic attempts to succeed with their parents’ support were nothing but infuriating.

I hated them.

I hated the world.
The world that left me only with this piano.
The world that left me with nothing but broken pieces.

‘Disgusting.’

Self-loathing boiled up as raw emotion spilled from the keys.
You will never succeed, because you don’t deserve it. No, you can’t.

My eyes locked on the camera, and my hands moved faster across the keys.

If you hadn’t been crushed by the wall of talent, then I will crush you.
I will kill your dreams with the loathing I carry.

More fiercely, more heavily, more intensely.

The first movement of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.

Lee Jae’s hatred spread everywhere.