04. the truth

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"Eun byul, is there something bothering you?" Jongseong asked gently, "You look a little stressed

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"Eun byul, is there something bothering you?" Jongseong asked gently, "You look a little stressed."

She looked at him softly in the eyes, "Jongseong, there's nothing to worry about."

"Eun byul you don't have to lie to me," he exclaimed sounding a little sad, "I just want to help you. I don't want you to be hurt."

She stayed quiet and then finally took a loud breath.

"Okay, I'll tell you, but promise me you'll never tell anyone- no you better not tell anyone. Because what happened that day should have never happened."

**

2 years ago...

Back in the day, Eun byul and Yeseo were known as the infamous duo. These two extraordinary girls won competitions like they were eating a slice of cake. Making their debut at 8-years-old, nobody expected the young children to have such perfect harmony. Especially since the accompanist was the same age as the violinist which was the age of 8. But that did not mean that both of them were prodigies. Eun byul worked extremely hard, but because Yeseo was not a prodigy like Eun byul, she worked so much harder. However, as the years went on, playing the piano with Eun byul became less enjoyable and more tiresome.

"Eun byul, please my wrists are killing me. Can we take a 5 minute- no a 2 minute break?" Yeseo pleaded.

"Yeseo, my fingers, and arms hurt too, but if we want to win this competition we have to practice more. We can not take any chances of mistakes. The competition is in 2 weeks, Yeseo. 2 weeks! At this rate, if you don't keep up with the tempo, we won't even make it past the qualifiers round," Eun byul exclaimed with irritation, "Now play until it's perfect."

Yeseo sighed with defeat as she placed her blister-covered fingers and sore wrists over the piano keys once more.

"She's a dictator. A horrible, cruel, dictator," she said under her breath.

As practice ended and the girls went their separate ways, back into their nice apartments to rest, or in this case, Eun byul would practice more.

"How was practice, Yeseo?" her mother asked, "I know the competition isn't for a couple more weeks, but do you feel ready?"

"Mom, I hate this," Yeseo cried, throwing her sheet music on the floor, "I can't take this pressure anymore. Eun byul is a psychotic bitch and won't leave me alone. She made me play till my wrists were sore and my blisters about to pop! She made me play for 6 hours straight! Mom, I hate playing the piano and I hate her."

"Yeseo, that's a little harsh to say. You two have been best friends since forever and have been playing for 8 years. Besides, I'm sure the two of you are stressed since this is an international in Seoul," Yeseo's mom responded, "Just bear with it a little longer and then you can stop. How does that sound?"

"Ugh, fine," she grumbled, "Not like you would ever understand."

Walking to her room, Yeseo flopped onto her bed and rolled on her back, "Eun byul... that girl is a monster. She doesn't care about anyone but herself and her reputation. Just because she's the only prodigy and gets all the attention she has a horrid ego. She's so selfish while I'm just hiding in her shadow."

As the days went by, Yeseo heard nothing but criticism, insults, and the infuriated voice of Eun byul.

"Yeseo, play faster!"

"Yeseo, you're too slow. Your tempo is off again!"

"Why are you so bad? You were never like this."

"Yeseo, you really are the worst. Do you not care anymore?"

"Hurry up and put yourself together! We're not going to win like this!"

"Do you even practice? Why are we doing this if you're not even putting any effort? I don't want to keep playing with a mere accompanist who sucks and does the bare minimum."

"Yeseo, this isn't even the hardest piece! Why are you struggling so much? Do you even practice at home?"

1 day before the Seoul International Music competition...

TW// suicide

"Mom," Eun byul exclaimed in panic, "Yeseo isn't picking up the phone. I texted her and called her so we can practice one more time before the competition tomorrow morning, but she isn't answering me!"

"Okay, I'll call her mom to let her know you're coming over to their house. I know this competition is important for the two of you."

Making her way over to Yeseo's house, Eun byul was greeted warmly by Yeseo's mother. Carrying her violin case, she entered the clean, modern, corridor of the Kim apartment.

"Yeseo is in her room so you can walk right in," Mrs. Kim said, leading her to the staircase.

Gently walking up the steps to Yeseo's room, she could hear the light melody of their performance piece playing, Liebesleid by Fritz's Kriesler.

"She's practicing?" Eun byul thought, slightly happy.

She knocked on the door lightly and slowly began to open the door.

"Yeseo, I'm here. Your playing is really good today. I think we'll do amazing at the compet-"

There was absolutely no response and Yeseo was nowhere in sight. The music that was played was not coming from the piano in her room, but a recording resting on the piano bench. All the curtains were closed and the air suddenly felt frigid and impossible to breathe in. Looking up, Eun byul collapsed on the ground, gasping and then screeching at the top of her lungs. There, she saw Yeseo with a belt strapped tightly around her neck as her frail body hung from the ceiling. Parallel lines of cuts covered her arms on both sides and dried blood covered her fingers. Dead, her long black hair covered her face, but her bloodshot eyes stared deeply at Eun byul. Below her hanging body was a piece of folded paper.

In horror, Eun byul couldn't move a single muscle. She was stuck and still as the rapid footsteps of Yeseo's mother approached the room. Covering her mouth and shivering, Mrs. Kim fell onto the ground as tears slowly fell down the sides of her cheeks.

Minutes later, the police came. They took Yeseo's small body and placed her on a stretcher, covering her with a thin white cloth. Mrs. Kim continued to sob as her daughter was taken away from the apartment. Still, in a daze, Eun byul sat on the floor of the hallway, fumbling with the piece of paper she had found on the ground. Opening and reading the note, her hands trembled.

I hope you regret every life choice you make and live in terror. Most of all, I hope you never lay a finger on that violin because all you do is cause torturous pain, Cha Eun byul. Because I'm dead, I want you to feel haunting fear and my wrath.

lonely sounds | l. heeseungWhere stories live. Discover now