Snow & Sweater Weather | VIXX Cha Hakyeon

December 12th

The first sight that greeted me when I walked into the music shop was a dazzling smile. "Good afternoon, Ri!" The blinding effect was compounded by a cuddly-looking white sweater, and it took me a second to respond.

"Hello, Hakyeon," I said, a little bit surprised that he'd remembered my name and even more shocked that I'd managed to remember his. "Thank you for letting me come back to practice."

He shook his head. "Don't mention it." I headed over to the piano, unloading my backpack and seating myself at the bench. After warming up, I went through the last pages of yesterday's song, then attempted to play the whole thing together.

The shop bell suddenly jangled, and I immediately dropped the volume to pianissimo as I looked up to see a mother and daughter come into the shop. The little girl, about eight or nine years old, was practically bouncing up and down as Hakyeon showed them a couple different ukuleles. I switched from the bouncy "Golliwog's Cakewalk" to Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata," hoping not to bother Hakyeon's customers. I knew the sonata by heart, so I played it softly focusing on the feeling and interpretation. After thirty minutes, which strained my repertoire of memorized non-intrusive pieces, a ukulele was chosen and purchased. When the mother and daughter were gone, I stopped playing and slouched on the bench.

Hakyeon smiled. "Did it make you nervous to play in front of them?"

I shook my head. "Not nervous, but I was afraid I was going to run out of soft songs to play and have to launch into something very impressive and distracting like Schubert's 'Impromptu for piano in E flat major.'"

He laughed at that. "I'm sure it would have been fine. They've been thinking about a ukulele for months, and I guess the mother finally decided it would make a good Christmas present."

I smiled. "That's sweet." Looking around the shop, I added, "Those are the first customers I've seen - is the shop normally busier than this?"

"No, actually."

"How can you stay open then? This town is so small, and if business is usually this slow-"

"This is a family business, but it's not the only one my family has, so it's okay if it doesn't do that well." Hakyeon shrugged. "It would be a shame to let the music shop die."

"I agree. So what are the other family businesses? Are you some kind of pastry chef as well?" I joked.

He chuckled. "No, there's a Christmas tree farm that I don't help with much, a car wash, a couple other miscellaneous things. We manage."

"Oh, so that's who owns the car wash! When I was a kid helping my dad wash the car there was one of my favorite things."

"It's amazing how interesting life is when you're a kid." I nodded and reached for my music folder, looking for another song to practice. "So, how come I haven't seen you around town before?" Hakyeon asked.

"Oh, I go to a music university. I'm in my third year, so I've been away for quite a while."

Hakyeon hummed, leaning his elbows on the counter. "I see. How is it, going to school for music? I always thought it would just be a lot of practicing and taking all the fun out of playing."

"No," I laughed. "I mean, it is a lot of practicing, but it doesn't destroy the joy of music."

"Oh really? Then how come you only play classical music?" he asked, mouth widening into an impish grin.

"How dare you! Classical music is amazing and wonderful," I said, rising to the bait in jest. "If you didn't like classical, you wouldn't have let me come back. But I do play other stuff if I must-" I launched into the first forty seconds of "Waltz for Debby" by Bill Evans. "And if you don't like jazz," I added, "I fiddle around with contemporary songs sometimes, and have had to try a few other styles as part of a class. But classical is what I love most; there's just so much variety in-" I stopped. "What are you smiling at me for?"

He stood straight. "I just like seeing people talk about things they love, that's all." Picking up a stack of music, he tapped it against the counter to straighten it. "Don't let me interrupt you."

"Oh, no, I'm sure you've heard enough from me." I played a scale. "What is your thing you love to talk about?"

His smile was a little hesitant. "I love to dance," he said finally.

"Really? That's so cool! What kind of dancing?"

"A little bit of everything, but mostly contemporary-style. I don't get to do it very often, but there's such a fierce joy in doing something I'm great at... do you know what I mean?"

I saw now what he meant about liking to watch people talk about things they loved. "Yes, I know. Although... are you calling yourself a good dancer? Isn't that a little conceited?"

He lifted his chin playfully. "I'm just stating the facts."

"Okay then," I said. "Anyway, that's really cool that you dance and I wish I could see it and judge for myself whether you're great or not."

"Maybe someday," he said. "But not in here - I don't want to knock down a Stradivarius or anything."

I laughed, looking around. "Yes, there's really not much room."

A silence fell, and I got back to my practicing - but maybe I was a little more distracted than yesterday. Just maybe I spent a tiny bit less time looking at the music, and stole a couple more glances at the shopkeeper than I had before.