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213

I do not trust the author, and I do not even trust myself haha Everything about this feels so deceptive. He is trying to numb his emotional pain with physical intimacy once again, just as he has done in the past. And I understand why but. There is something strangely comforting about it, a sense of relief that comes with finally having someone to lean on. And yet, somehow, that relief is tinged with bitterness. I want to believe, but I am so afraid to.

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Love cannot be perfect. It never was, and it never will be. For every soul it takes its own shape, and every soul gives it its own tongue — some whisper it, some carve it, some bleed it out in silence, drop by drop. Heejae loves Garam, and Garam loves Heejae. The question is not whether they love, but how their love touches and merges and how it collapses.

It is a truly high spiritual intertwining of souls, when your dialogue becomes a musical staff and the hammers fall upon the strings. It is water, it is a thunderstorm, it is the riot and blossoming of nature that wraps around you every time you picture the image of your lover.

And it is also flesh and blood. It is the slap of paper against a face, a car crash, suitcases, a warm bed and a tight embrace. In the end — sex. Is that not carnal pleasure? It is literally your most direct contact as ordinary people. The same blood runs through your veins. You crave kisses and embraces. You want to hold your beloved in bed in the morning, to cook a meal, to give a gift.

You know what it means to be small in Garam's hands. You know what it means to merge with his music, to be part of his playing. You know what his love means to you. But you cannot step one step down, you cannot dig deeper into this pond to understand what love means to Garam. It is humanity. I do not believe you. You know what it means to be a simple human being.

And yet cannot say "forgive me," you cannot say "I love you." But you can put your protege on the world stage. You can give him the most luxurious halls. You can give him a bouquet of lilies. You can consider him the most charming and desire him. But you cannot step on your own throat. This is a defense mechanism with which you have literally locked yourself up from the inside. Your teeth grind at the mere thought. I guess, because you are afraid.

Saying it aloud means admitting to yourself that you are vulnerable. That in fact you have already proven it, if you recall what you did to Compton. You are absolutely vulnerable. When a person loves, he truly becomes fragile in certain aspects. And especially he becomes, to one degree or another, dependent on the state of the other. He worries if you are ill, if you have been insulted, he will take responsibility and want to protect you. Heejae, you are afraid to show your vulnerability, because then you will have to admit that your knife has become fragile. You will have to admit the mistakes of the past in the most painful way. This wall built out of pathos and egoism is nothing more than a desire to protect yourself from new pain.

Because you are afraid that you will wound him. You see the ghosts of the past, and they remind you of your old mistakes. Of the tragedy and the loss you keep trying to fill with photographs and personal plays. You see your own flaws in the image of your private grief. And you are so afraid of feeling it again that you are going mad. You draw close to people at the distance of a hilt — of a blade entering the belly.

And still, you have to ask for forgiveness. You have to admit that you are wrong. You poisoned the sacred waters with your arrogance over them.

Remain beside Heejae — that, for him, is love. Love through endurance. Love that does not soar, but learns the ground. And yet every feat deserves its reward: words of love, tenderness, redemption. You clipped Garam's wings. And then you taught him to walk, saying that this is the one path for him.

There is also the fury you left behind. It settles in the rooms you walked out of. It waits in the chairs. It hums in the silence between your name and his.

You desecrated the flowers that surrounded you. You drained the pond. There is room left for only you alone — in that pit.

He really needs to let the knife go, lay down weapon at the feet of your beloved and beg for mercy.

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210

There were no water lilies in their play. Last time the whole concert hall was covered in flowers. And now only agony. Heejae remembers these flowers in his feelings and images when he writes a new play for Garam, but Garam himself is absolutely empty. Heejae poisoned all the water in which these flowers floated.

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210

The ode to love of Heejae is written in blood on the body of his lover.

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208 Garam pretends to be Garam

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207

I wonder if the author will repeat the scene when Garam wanted to leave, but Heejae stopped him seeing the back of the ex manager.

Will it be Garam's back now? And Heejae won't stop him?

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I need to put this date in the calendar as a holiday named SAGE. You blessed us thank you

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204
Heejae, I hope your pond will become deeper enough to finally launch at least one Garam fish there.

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People around them keep saying that Garam became colder. But it seems to me that Garam matured and found support in himself and his music. Only Heejae tells him that he gets prettier and prettier. It's not the first time. Maybe it's just his dirty talk but I guess Heejae sees that he got stronger and confident like a musician. And he really proud of him so much

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Hatred is seductive. It wraps itself in the guise of strength, offering a false sense of security to those who feel powerless. In general, hatred is a defensive reaction of the psyche—a brittle armor donned to protect a wound too tender to touch. Compton’s hatred shields something far more fragile: pure affection, love, and the desperate desire to be significant. That colossal core, overgrown with a shell of rage and contempt, becomes both his engine and his poison. It fuels his every move forward, yet it slowly poisons him to the very end.

Compton has built an empire on this hatred. All the praise from others, no matter how lavish, cannot compare to the praise of that one person who belongs to that primal core. Every accolade from the outside feels wrong, not quite right, because it misses the mark of the only approval that ever mattered.

Compton wanted to leave his teacher, but deep down, he longed for his return. In chasing escape, he became a mirror image of the man he resents. Your sincere desire, once upon a time, was to become worthy of him.

Now, Compton sees Garam as an extension of the teacher—the closest person to him, the living echo of that unresolved relationship. He wants from Garam exactly what he wanted from his teacher: recognition, understanding, validation. He surrounds himself with the adoration of orchestra members and basks in superficial devotion, but none of it satisfies the hunger at his core. Garam is not merely a comrade; he has become a glimmer of light in the black hole in Compton’s chest. Compton craves Garam’s acknowledgment as the one person who can truly comprehend his predicament. You grab him because Garam’s sound reminded you that your hatred is nothing more than a facade, and the sacred image of the teacher and his first protege will forever remain in your memories full of flowers. You don’t want to face the truth. You’ve buried it so deeply that you can’t admit it to yourself.

Garam is the priest you can confess to. He is the shepherd who drives the hapless sheep toward enlightenment, toward the music of the divine. He is the judge who stands ready to forgive you and take you back—even for the crime of betraying music itself.

Compton, you are a sheep in wolf’s clothing. Beneath the snarl and the commanding presence is a timid child abandoned by his parent. You are a young dreamer who still wants a pat on the head from his mentor. You want to become worthy. Your hatred is all-consuming, yes, but it is also self-consuming. It burns bright and hot, yet leaves only ashes in its wake.

So, did love win? Love did not triumph in grand gestures or reconciliations. But it survived—hidden, buried, warped—inside the very hatred that sought to annihilate it. Love is the reason Compton still cares about recognition. Love is why Garam’s opinion cuts so important. Love is the ghost that haunts every angry note his orchestra plays. Hatred may have built the fortress, but love is the prisoner inside—and that prisoner has never stopped hoping. And at least, love is the music. I will never stop reminding you of the teacher's words to Heejae: only a heart full of love can create good music

I want to finish with one phrase, because I think she is very suitable: «If you didn’t have a bike as a child, and then you grew up and bought one yourself, you still didn’t have a bike as a child».

No achievement, no revenge, no orchestra, no applause can rewrite the past. Compton can conquer the world, but he cannot conquer the absence of what he never received. He can achive his acknowledge, but the child inside him will always remember the cold heart.

And that child—not the shepherd, not the conductor, not the warrior—is the one who still waits for a nod, a word, a hand on the shoulder. Until he learns to give that to himself, hatred will remain his professor, and love will remain his unspoken prayer. He needs peace. He needs his field of flowers.

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- 190
For Heejae and Garam, Rachmaninov's concert is their story of love and feelings. For Compton - It's a slaughter.

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Oh man, do you really still putting music on pedestal above everything else in the world? You're drunk on love and you're not even trying to hide it! Untitled 2 played throughout the day (chapter 186). From the very beginning. From the long sleep in familiar place, the awakening, the morning conversation, the touching hands in the museum where Garam's long journey began and which Heeje introduced him to. His embrace, his intimacy, and, ultimately, his complex and overwhelming love. Heejae's feelings took over and dominated his music.

We were shown Garam's ecstasy, how he was overwhelmed by playing with the orchestra. After all, at that moment, everyone wants to achieve the same goal—to reach heavenly music. We were shown Garam literally laid Heejae’s soul bare without even realizing it. All his feelings were on display, but only the two of them could understand it. Garam, surrounded by his feelings for Heeje. His anger, his storm, his confusion. This untamed ocean, which held within itself years of grief and loss, is covered with a blanket of vines and lotuses. They take root in this ocean, go deeper, touching his very core and soothing it.

This is no longer just a concert - it's their story.

Heejae's composition exudes tenderness and envelops him in calm happiness, like lotuses that Garam has nurtured within his soul. It is the purest declaration of love. Garam is his calm, his peace, his warmth, his home. This is the haven where his music now blossoms, so tender and delicate.

They shared one soul in two. One so kind and accepting the storm to calm it, and the other so unbridled, allowing itself to be tamed and letting someone in.

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182
Heejae you are so hungry and charming. Sloppy and homely. I like the emphasis on the gentle warmth that Garam feels. These panels echo those when Heejae admitted that he wanted to pamper Garam.

From heart to heart. With these hands, he writes music for you with all his heart and then hugs you greedily.

I want to stay in this moment.

And I also really like all the panels with Compton and sheep. It's always done so brilliantly (like everything else haha)

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179 just thoughts
It seems to me that there is a lot of deep loneliness and loss in Comptom's words. He considers his colleagues a herd that will lead them to a light. Does he see this light himself? His passion is like a small flashlight in a huge dark ocean of rage and desire to be heard.

Bastard Jae will never change. And I hate that, like Garam, I want to continue to see only his good side.

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177 It seems to me that this chapter dictated the main difference between the attitude of Compton and Garam.«MY PIANO IS NOT HATRED FOR WHAT CAUSED ME PAIN» Compton's piano hates its pain.

Then just thoughts:
I like that Garam’s music is imbued with love for Heejae. Garam was the only one who didn't listen to Heejae's advice. He alone carried his purity through his vague rage. He tried to hate like everyone else, but he couldn't. Good music is born from a heart filled with love. Garam had always loved. Tenderly, inexperiencedly, but he loved. He sought comfort and embrace. And in the end Garam saw a lonely man who deep down yearned for spiritual intimacy but feared it.

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175 To be honest, I can't hate Compton. He's like that because Heejae made him like that. I'm sure that the fact that he's sick of just sitting at the piano, his behavior is dictated by his resentment and deep trauma. When I see him, I just want to hug him like Heejae and say that everything is over. You need to stop and give yourself a break. You're not a stone and it hurts you.

Yes, he does bad things, but have we really forgotten how Heejae behaved? He insult Garam. He scared him and brought him to tears. The fact that Garam went through all this, kept the music in his heart and got to Heejae's heart - it's really incredible.

I guess there will be a lot of dislikes haha

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175 Well It was expected and right in fact - to replace the conductor. In that case, will we hear new notes in Garam's music? Will Compton notice it and what will he feel? The counterbalance to hatred is love, but in Garam's music, on the contrary, there will be more longing. Compton will be wrong again. Or vice versa, it will be more saturated and Compton will believe that it's all thanks to him, but at the same time Garam will long with love. And what about Heejae, I guess it will be the first performance not for him. So many questions i like it

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174 Heejae is really ready to betray his conviction that a musician should belong only to music and sacrifice his own. And all for the sake of his lover.

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hi eurydoomfs! if i made a discord server would people join? i’d love to talk to everyone about this manwha its just so brilliant and everyone here is so funny

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171 I really love kitten Valter. He just calls you on facetime to say that you did a great job. I like that the frightening primary image turned out to be a very timid and loving young man