If there was a force in the world that could turn day into night in split second and shake a city as if it were about to be torn apart, it must be this force of nature that was at work now – Naro thought as he trudged through the stormy streets of London.
The sudden hurricane had caught him and the members off guard. How the city in front of them had gone from being a bright, warm tourist destination when they left the hotel in the morning, into a godforsaken place ravaged by the storm without warning just in three hours, was both unbelievable and helpless to Naro. The dark clouds hung low over the land. The elegant and magnificent buildings along the streets were now all a dull, grey and gloomy sight, giving an unbearable sense of doom. There were very few pedestrians or cars on the roads, and they could not get a taxi back to the hotel. So the only hope they could hold now was to find a place where they could hide from the hurricane for a while.
Just then, the dim, lazy, little café appeared around the corner without warning. It was in a three-story building, with bare stone walls and creepy, hollow-eyed-like windows looking down on their wretched figures from above. However, its huge, old oak doors were left opened slantingly, and the soft, thick, orange-color gleams from two paraffin lamps on the wall in the front hall leaked out to the street, seeming to be kindly calling them on and welcoming them to get inside. Naro shouted to the members: “Let’s take shelter in this café!”
The group filed in through the front hall and entered the café. There was no customer at all, but the wall lights were all on, making it looks particularly spacious and bright. Paintings from the Regency period on the walls were telling its history silently. A red-haired waitress took them to a large table under the domed ceiling area and handed them towels to clean themselves up. Very soon the members recovered from the mess they had got in the storm and began chattering loudly about the variety of drinks on the menu handed by the waitress. “These kids are really too noisy!” Naro couldn’t help sighing.
Naro watched the children making all sorts of noises while flipping through the menu. Suddenly a faint piano sound seemed to come from somewhere, low at first, as if someone were gently tapping on the table, then gradually speeding up, adding more notes, and then abruptly entering a higher register. The thick walls of the building kept the winds and rains out, and only the low whistles slipped through the gaps of the bricks, above which these low keys were still barely audible and only Naro had noticed them. He looked up to search for the source and found a small, recessed triangle area at the diagonal corner of this hexagonal main hall, where a black grand piano stood, and a man in a barista’s uniform leaning over it, listening intently. A dark-haired woman was playing, and from here Naro could only see her forehead and downcast eyes. She seemed to be thinking hard, tapping out each note intently, occasionally lifting her eyes slightly and drifting forward with a hint of bewilderment, but not to gaze at anything, and only as if she was just debating with herself how to play the next syllable. It was then Naro was amazed at the depth of her striking eyes, their dark brown pupils glowing with a deep shimmer that Naro could feel the sense of majesty and mystery even from such a distance.
At this point the piece gradually reached a crescendo, the tempo tightening and speeding up, as if various people associated with the stage of the piece had finally met at this point in time after performing their own stories, crowding together and fervently shouting out their own advocacy. Strangely enough, the wind that had been kept out before now seemed to be taking advantage of this chaos to squeeze in. Hearing the hiss of the winds mixed with the music, Naro couldn’t help but recalling the horrific sight of the hurricane tearing the city apart in the street. The other members were also captivated by the music now, and surprisingly stopped their usually noise to listen in awe, as if some kind of magic had tugged at their souls. Then the melody suddenly slowed down again – did the various characters on stage finally find a moment to catch their breath after all the frenzy? Or had they finally reached an agreement out of their arguments? Such violent fluctuation made Naro lost in a trance as if this little concave corner was swallowing everything except the sound of the piano and her eyes……
Just as Naro was anticipating the next climax, the music slowly fell silent with a few notes repeating themselves until they died out. She looked up helplessly at the man leaning there and said apologetically: “I am sorry… I’ve… never gone through it here…… my mind keeps failing me. “ “I understand. “ “Does it ring a bell?” “ No, not for me. But I’ve recorded it and will check with my grandpa.” “ Really appreciate that!”
She stood up, noticing the presence of Naro and the group, and couldn’t help but smiling: “ Looks like I’ve disturbed your customers.” The man turned around, laughing out loud: “ Sorry guys! Let me treat you my secret Italian home recipe coffee! All on me!”
She gave the group a little bow and said in native-like Korean*: “ I’m sorry to have disturbed you!” Everyone was startled – her face was undoubtedly oriental, but it also had quite some western features, especially her deep dark eyes; yet she spoke Korean without a hint of accent, making them unable to question her nationality.
The members all gathered around the coffee bar to watch the barista prepare his home recipe coffee, except for Jordan who urged Naro to ask for the name of this piano piece. He was apparently obsessed with it already. Naro was actually thinking the same, so they walked over to the piano and asked the lady:” Excuse me! May I ask what is the name of this piano piece? It’s really special.” She was slightly surprised but answered right away: “ It’s called Kissing Disease.” As she said the name, Naro saw her eyes seemed to dim a bit. “A very strange name, isn’t it?” She continued: “Hundreds of years ago Italy just had all sorts of odd things like this.” Naro could hear a hint of stronger emotion in this seemingly playful comment, but couldn’t identify what kind of emotion it was. Jordan said excitedly: “Is it ancient music? But I actually think it very modern. That said, it does have a kind of mysterious feeling of the Vatican.” Jordan always had a great intuition for music. “Really? It’s the first time I hear about such an interpretation.” She looked at Jordan with an interested smile: “ By the way, I am Chloe. Nice to meet you!”
*Unless italicized, all conversations are in Korean.
