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The tavern was as packed as any other Friday night.
At the tavern's grand piano set, Minhee prepared himself for his performance as scheduled. He placed his music sheets on the piano's racks neatly, as he would've done every night for the past year. He settled onto the bench that accompanies the piano.
A crowd of the tavern's customers had gathered in front of the platform by the piano. Minhee was no stranger to being the center of attention when it came to his music. Over his time being the tavern's star pianist, he had seen many people from different walks of life watch his performances — even those who didn't patronize the tavern.
His fingers trembled as they approached the piano keys. Despite the freezing winter temperatures, Minhee sweated. He's used to crowds no matter the size. He felt his stomach churn slightly. Yet, he ignored the feeling.
Minhee had prepared this song for several weeks beforehand and he felt that that night was the perfect time to finally introduce it to the world. He composed himself, knowing well the feelings the song would invoke in him, before officially starting his song.
To the audience present, this song would seem like any other song Minhee had performed at the tavern in the past — a soothing self-composed piece that's universally enjoyed by them, no matter the time of year.
Melodious, enchanting, de-stressing; the tavern owner would compliment him after each performance.
However, that night's piece was very different. This piece was especially special to Minhee. He had hoped someone could feel the emotion exuded by each key he pressed on the piano — feelings Minhee would've tried to convey if that someone was in that tavern.
As Minhee began to press the notes, he felt the familiar sense of comfort that washed over him every time he played on the piano — a feeling that calmed his nerves no matter the size of the audience in front of him.
The song was solemn and sorrowful; quite the opposite of his regular pieces. Minhee made sure that every key he pressed held a message to convey.
Each note carried a word from a story Minhee wanted to tell. A story of happiness, heartbreak, and bitter farewells. A story he didn't have the emotional capacity to tell verbally.
As he continuously pressed the black and white bars following the music sheet in front of his eyes, Minhee felt a lump in his throat, as if he was on the verge of tears, to which he tried to swallow away.
Of Mozart's many sonatas and Beethoven's own symphonies, nothing came close to the difficulty Minhee faced while playing this song.
The tempo of the song increased, Minhee's fingers moved more aggressively. He knows that this was a huge contrast from his usual slower, more mellow style of playing. Well, it's too late to stop now.
He could only hope the person he wrote this song for was at the bar, attending to the tavern patrons like any other day he would be performing.
Minhee kept his eyes away from the bar, knowing that reality was way too harsh on him to have that person magically appear. He focused his vision on the music sheets and keys.
In reflex, he bit his lip to keep himself from breaking down in front of his boss and a tavern full of people.
Like magic, something in him snapped and Minhee felt as though he was alone with no audience — just him and his worthless feelings trapped in a daze.
It was like those nights he spent writing this composition by the window in his motel room. Only the moon and stars could see the tears brimming on his eyes during those nights, waiting to flow down his cheeks.
The song was gradually approaching its end. The atmosphere started to feel suffocating and heavy, as if to make Minhee feel guilty that he was the reason why he's broken into pieces.
Minhee closed his eyes to prevent tears from escaping. No, he couldn't possibly waste any more of his tears. In his head, his mind chanted a line of words like a mantra:
'I have to let you go. This is goodbye. I'll never see you aga-'
A round of applause broke him out of his trance-like state. The claps echoed across the tavern and reverberated within the four walls. That was when he realized he had pressed the final key of the song. The song was finally over.
He blinked the tears away and stood up from the bench. He faced the heaps of people who had just witnessed his performance and bowed to them.
The air no longer felt cold and thick. He felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. What felt like an eternity of pain, longing, and never-ending yearning had come to an end. He felt… free.
As the crowd dispersed, Minhee caught the sight of the tavern owner approaching him from the bar, looking all happy and excited — as he always does after every one of Minhee's performances.
"Kang Minhee! That was such a beautiful performance, one of the best I've seen from you so far." The tavern owner congratulated him while patting his back.
"Thank you so much, Sir. I'm glad you liked it." Minhee returned him a small smile.
"It's a pity Hyeongjun isn't here. He would've really liked this song."
The smile on Minhee's lips faltered at the mention of that name.
Hyeongjun.
The former head bartender of the tavern and undoubtedly the owner's favorite employee.
The one he wrote the song for.
"I hope he's doing well right now," the tavern owner continued, a tinge of sadness in his voice.
"Me too."
Minhee quickly packed his music sheets and gently closed the grand piano's fallboard over its keys. He made his way to the bar to collect his pay for the night before heading back to the motel.
"It's a shame you aren't going to be performing here anymore. The customers and I really love all your performances." The tavern owner said from across the counter.
Right. It's time for him to move on to better things rather than be stuck to a place with memories he wanted to forget.
"It's ultimately your choice and I thank you so much for all you've done for us on behalf of the customers." Minhee shook hands with the owner as the owner passed him the final payment from the tavern.
For sure, it was a sad farewell. As Minhee took one final look at the tavern from outside, the tips of his lips rose slightly, a tear rolling down his cheek — whether, from the fact he's leaving his workplace of nearly a year or the fact that he's leaving all of the memories of him behind, Minhee didn't know.
He took in a deep breath of the chilly winter air before slowly exhaling it out. Minhee had given Hyeongjun the perfect goodbye.
Minhee's ready to let him go.