Devil's Music

Gun followed Pyotr into the spectacular building of St Petersburg Music Hall.

The door was big enough to feel the pressure and glamorous, and it opened without a sound as if Pyotr had been pushed and oiled properly for a while.

Pyotr takes off his suit and hands it to him as he enters the room. Inside, she was wearing a black vest on a white dress shirt, which was a peculiar shirt with very long lace on the wrist. I looked at Pyotr's case and raised my hand to the front.

“Welcome to St. Petersburg Music Hall. You're probably the first non-student to visit. So, this way, please. ”

The gun walks a little after Piotr, who walks first, taking a slight necklace.

Inside the building was a corridor with several forks and a staircase leading up to the second floor extending to both sides. Pyotr leads you to the second corridor to the left of the stairs.

The long corridor gave an apricot wallpaper a warm feel, but the album had black-and-white pictures of musicians passing through St Petersburg. Most musicians shoulder to shoulder with Anton, the music director, and the recently founded teenagers, rather than adult musicians, recently graduated.

While walking down the hallway, I looked closely at the photos to see if there were any familiar faces, but I didn't see any that came to mind. Even if he did, he would have been an agent to see and recognize their childhood appearance.

Pyotr went through several dark brown doors in the long corridors and opened the front door at the end of the room. The door inside opened with a sound of profit, whether there was less grease. I looked inside the door, turned around, grabbed the door with my hand, and reached inside.

“Come in. Oh, I don't know your Asian name, but what about Mr. Gun? Mr. Kim? What should I call you? ”

Gun comes through the door and says,

“Yes, Mr. Pyotr. Kim. Tong Yang is the first name and the last name. ”

The gun nods and looks at Piotr smiling, then looks inside the room with his head long. The room was covered in white from the wallpaper to the ceiling, but only the floor was made of tan wood. On the right, there were only four large windows, and the white window frame was gently tied with an apricot long curtain.

The ceiling had more colorful chandeliers than traditional Russian colours, with about 20 brass iron chairs underneath. In front of it is a small, wooden stage with a black grand piano.

The gun turns around and asks Peter.

“You don't have any children to let me meet? Is he coming here? ”

Peter laughs at the question and shouts forward.

“Sergey! I saw you hiding earlier, come out. ”

Pyotr's cry makes him turn his head, but he sees nothing. With a curious look on his face, Peter waits for a moment and shouts again.

“Sergey! If you don't come out now, they're going to tell Daria that they're playing with paint again. I promise I won't tell you if you come out now. ”

Pyotr shouts once more, and behind the black grand piano, a little boy's head pops up. He said with a slightly frightened look on his face behind the piano.

“Really, you're not going to go now? ”

Pyotr stepped forward and put his hands on the chair.

“Yes, there's someone I'd like you to meet. Why don't you come out and say hello? ”

After seeing the case, the boy slowly got up and got off the stage. The child had eyes deep enough to cast a shadow on his short blonde head. The nine-to-ten-year-old girl was wearing a white dress shirt and a pair of riding trousers tied with a bracelet, and she was holding a musical note in one hand, and her hands were filled with colorful paint. Piotr said as soon as the child came down.

“Again, you're playing with paint. Sergey.”

Sergey looks up at Pyotr slightly.

“I've told you so many times. It's not a coloring game. No one listens to me, so I'm trying to prove it. ”

Pyotr raises his hands and says,

“Ah, ah. Yeah, I made a mistake. Speaking of which, Sergey, I owe you an apology. ”

Sergey looks at himself curiously, and Pyotr looks apologetic.

“So far, I'm sorry I didn't believe you. I couldn't believe I was talking about the invisible in anyone's eyes, not just mine. I apologize for not trusting you in the meantime. ”

Sergey said with a slightly happy expression.

“So you trust me now? ”

Pyotr gently lays a hand on the back of the case.

“I think I can trust you now. Thanks to him here. ”

Sergey looks at the case with questionable eyes.

“Yes? This guy? What about him? ”

Pyotr grabs Sergey by the shoulder with a smile.

“I can see it in his eyes. Those colors you were talking about. ”

Sergey grabs the gun with a joyful look. The gun is covered with paint on its hands, but it does not spray the delightfully expressing hands of a young child. Sergey grabs the gun, walks to the stage, sits on the stage with his butt hanging, and knocks the floor as if to ask him to sit next to him.

Sergey said, waiting for the gun to sit down.

“Can you see my brother? Really?"

The gun nods and Sergey gives you the sheet music.

“Can you tell me what color I look like from page three here, instead of the colored areas? ”

After taking the sheet sheet music and looking at Sergey, he carefully looked at the sheet music, pointing fingers at each section and saying,

“Well, 32 words are green from the bottom of the antenna. All the notes on the next page are black. The next page is all in red, except the last four words. ”

Sergey smiles as he jumps off the stage and stands before the case.

“Really!! You look real! Hahaha. Look! I was right! Hahahaha”

Gun tilts his head toward Sergey, rolling his feet with a smile.

“Then why is this? It's really invisible to the others. ”

Sergey stops running and looks him in the eye and says,

“Yes, no one here at the music center believed me. I haven't seen anyone like me since before I started here, but I've never seen my brother tell me that he looks like me. ”

Seeing Pyotr with surprised eyes, he nods. Gun looks back at Sergey and asks.

“By the way, what does this mean? Is it just a note with color? ”

Sergey hears the case and quickly pulls the pencil out of his pocket, straightening out the sheet music and writing something down.

“Here, here. You said green. You said“ jealous. ”The black notes on the back page say“ dark, flaming, "and the red notes on the next page say“ anger, passion. ””

He looked at Sergey, who was writing a Soviet word on his sheet music.

“Jealousy or anger? What do you mean, you have feelings for the sheet music? ”

Sergey shakes his head, slightly looking at the gun.

“No, it's the composer's emotion that made this music. It's the emotion you have when you're making this music. There's no lyrics to ornamental music. It's about playing and expressing your emotions. ”

I asked again, looking at the note as if the case was surprising.

“So, this is the color that the composer was trying to express? ”

He looks over the page behind the sheet of music that he hasn't seen yet.

“So what are these notes here that say blue, pink, white, grey? ”

Sergey picks up the pencil again and says, marking where the gun is pointing.

“Blue is‘ depressed ’, pink is‘ healthy ’, white is‘ hot ’, and grey is‘ chaos is unclear ’. ”

Sergey smiles nervously at Sergey as he opens his mouth and looks at Sergey. He runs to the front of the Grand Piano and sits down in a chair.

Sergey looks around and puts his hand on the piano keyboard.

“You have to play and think about what the composer is trying to express, in order to fully express the song that the composer is writing. For example," Green "on the first page you saw. ”

Sergey began to play a violent piano, which seemed to express anger toward some subjects, but was played with understated emotions. The gun was frozen by Sergey's enormous ten-year-old skills, and even as he turned around, Sergey opened his mouth. Sergey smiles again, looking at the case.

“And here's a note in blue. ”

As Sergey begins to play, depressing emotions surge from inside the small room. It was definitely a quick song, but it seemed to be full of mental sadness.

As the gun listened to Sergey's play, I saw the note next to the note in blue, and I saw the word "depressed" written in pencil.

Pyotr approaches and sits next to him, looking at Sergey and the sheet of music in surprise. Pyotr stared at the case and asked.

“Mr. Kim. Is this the first time you've seen something like this? Surprise on your face. ”

Pyotr nods without taking his eyes off the sheet.

“Right, so you've never seen a score before in your life? ”

Gun raises its head and looks at Pyotr.

“No way, I'm a player. I watch it every day when it's a musical instrument. I saw it yesterday, but I didn't see it, so now I'm really embarrassed. ”

Pyotr hears the case and wipes his beard with a serious look.

Peter, who took a look at the case for a moment, looks out the window for a moment, with his arms crossed. Sergey shrugs his ears, reducing the sound of the playing as the atmosphere between the two intensifies.

Peter sighs as he looks out the window.

“Right. I think this is probably a musical awakening. ”

The gun bites with the sheet music in its hand.

“Awakening?”

When Sergey and Gun stopped playing and focused on Pyotr, Pyotr looked back and forth.

“Yes, among musicians, it's called God's gift. ”

Pyotr slowly steps onto the stage.

Sergey, sitting in front of the black grand piano, gazes at Piotr as he approaches. Pyotr makes eye contact with Sergey.

“The song of ice and fire, the ‘Eye of Amduras’ that can be seen through the bottom of human emotions.”

Pyotr turns around and grabs Sergey by the shoulder.

“The eye of Amduras says that he can see all the emotions that the composer wants to express, and he can transfer all the emotions that he wants to express to a musical score. I also heard what the teacher said. I didn't believe it.”

Peter looks at Gun and Sergey, expressing his regrets for a moment, shaking his head and speaking again.

“Only you and Sergey have the power of the Devil of Music. The Eye of Amduras. Mr. Kim.”

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