Last Melody

The Infinite's Price

The moon looked like a broken piece of bone over Seoul's pointy skyline, its light bouncing off the towers in Gangnam. Up on the apartment roof, it felt like I was cut off from the world, like being up high blurred the line between life and death. The wind was sharp and mean, whistling around the edges of the building; Inside, Min-Hee was asleep in her bedroom. She seemed calm, relaxed for the first time in a while because of last night's recording session— which had tired her out but lifted her spirits.

I was standing on the roof's edge, a dark shape against the city lights. I adjusted my shirt collar, my fingers shaking a little. I glanced at my watch. In the quiet, the ticking was loud, a reminder that I didn't belong here. The hands were moving toward the red mark. The Gatekeeper told me that was the time limit.

Suddenly, the air around me cracked. It didn't just wobble. It broke like glass, and the rooftop turned into static.

Pain slammed into me like a punch, burning from my chest out. It felt like I was being torn apart. I dropped to my knees, clawing at the concrete, fighting to hang on. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. The black rot on my arm, the corruption of my soul, started to glow a gross, dark light, spreading like ink. It was taking over my temporary life.

I reached into my pocket with a shaky hand. My fingers fumbled until I grabbed a small, clear can. Inside were three glowing Spirit Pills.

“Take these when the corruption starts, but finish what you started, the Gatekeeper’s voice echoed in my head. He had looked at me with pity during our last meeting. “These don't always work. Staying in the sunlight costs a lot. I’ve seen others regret this and get lost in the static. I don't want that for you.”

I opened the can and swallowed one of the pills. Right away, a wave of cold washed through me, pushing the pain back into a dull ache. The black veins that had reached my shoulder pulled back toward my wrist like snakes. I leaned against a metal vent, watching the countdown on my watch slow down. I was still in the living world, connected to the notebook downstairs, but the deal was getting more expensive. I was paying for being here with my life.

The next morning, the apartment felt totally different. The heavy, sad air was gone, replaced by the smell of coffee. Min-Hee was humming. It was soft tune from the notebook and it felt almost normal.

Min-Hee woke up feeling good, the dark circles under her eyes almost gone. She sat at the kitchen table, talking, excited as she went over the lyrics and vocals from last night. She seemed alive.

Seo-Yoon watched her, smiling behind her coffee mug. She felt relieved. It had been months since she had seen her friend like this, not broken but strong.

Min-Hee’s phone buzzed on the table.

“What is it?” Seo-Yoon asked.

Min-Hee picked it up, looking surprised. “It’s an invite for an interview with Chronicle Mag. They want me for their ‘Studio Spotlight’ feature. Tomorrow afternoon.”

Seo-Yoon hid a smile. “That’s big, Min-Hee. I told you, everyone wants to know what you’re doing next. The Chronicle editors are mean, but everyone in the business reads them.”

“I have to do it,” Min-Hee said, sounding determined. “If I want to pay back that money and clear my name, I can’t hide.”

The two friends talked, planning the interview. Seo-Yoon looked at her watch and stood up for her morning run, leaving Min-Hee to get ready for her first public appearance.

The day of the interview was gray and gloomy. It felt like a bad sign, but Min-Hee was determined. She wore the beige trench coat Seo-Yoon gave her that looked powerful. Before leaving, she grabbed the notebook. As she put it in her bag, she felt a warmth from the leather. She knew that Do-Hyun was there in the ‘Zone’ he had created, watching over her.

The car moved slowly through Seoul traffic. As they got closer to the Chronicle Mag building, Min-Hee checked her phone. She had called Manager Kim five times. He had stayed with her when everyone else left; she needed him there today. She needed him before she stepped back into the spotlight but he didn't answer. Every call went to voicemail.

As the taxi turned onto the street where the magazine was, her phone rang. It was Manager Kim.

“Oppa? Where are you? I’m almost there,” Min-Hee said, relieved.

“Is this Kang Min-Hee?” a cold voice asked.

Min-Hee’s face went white. It wasn't Kim. This voice was professional, like someone delivering bad news.

“Yes. Who is this? Where is Manager Kim?”

“I’m calling from Seoul National University Hospital,” the voice said. “Manager Kim was in a car accident twenty minutes ago. It was fatal. He is in the ICU in critical condition. You were listed as his emergency contact.”

The world was spinning. The city noise faded. Min-Hee gripped the phone, shaking. She looked out the window and saw the Chronicle Mag building just a few yards away where she was going to start her life again but the only man who had never stopped believing in her was fighting to stay alive.

Miles away, in a fancy neighborhood, Park Sora sat on her porch, swirling a glass of wine. She looked at her garden, smirking.

A man walked out from the glass doors, confident. He walked behind her and kissed her cheek.

“You look worried, Sora-ya,” he murmured softly, teasing her.

Sora didn't turn around. She watched his reflection in the door, cold. “I’m not worried, Oppa. I’m just annoyed. I don't like loose ends.”

The man smiled, setting a hand on Sora’s shoulder. “I heard you had a Min-Hee problem. Something about an interview?”

Sora sipped her wine. “It was a small problem. Nothing more.”

“Don't worry,” the man whispered, looking toward the city lights in the direction of the ICU. “The problem will disappear. Just think of it as a breeze.