Chapter 96 : Who Am I? Stay
Chapter 96: Who Am I? Stay
One of her sons saying he wanted to do music—
It was bound to happen one day.
Her eldest had ended up joining an entertainment company.
She couldn't stop him from going that far.
The problem was her younger son, Taeyoon.
…He was exceptional.
It wasn’t because she was a doting parent—objectively, he really was.
She worried he might suddenly announce he wanted to be an idol.
Half joking, half serious.
People who saw Taeyoon always said things like:
—“I don’t know about Dongyoon, but you have to let Taeyoon do music.”
—“I know someone who works at a major entertainment company…”
—“It’s such a waste to leave that handsome face unused.”
—“He sings to get allowance money, but he’s no ordinary kid, you know?”
She forced a smile and brushed it off.
All kids who sing look cute and charming.
That’s what she told herself.
But truthfully, she knew.
Jin Eunha had once worked in the industry.
Even without the “mom buff,” she could see Taeyoon was different.
Even if his words and manner were rough,
He always pierced through to the heart of the matter.
Even while watching TV—
—“Mom! That drum beat came in weirdly late.”
He instinctively picked up on when the drums were just slightly ahead or behind the beat.
—“The song’s fun, but the rhythm doesn’t match the dancing. It’s weird.”
He was sensitive to changes in instrumentation and rhythm.
Even the subtle disconnect between voice and movement—he caught it every time.
—“The song ends way too suddenly. Ugh, that’s no fun.”
He even had a sense for structure.
But what shocked her the most was what he said to Dongyoon while he was playing guitar.
—“Wait, why do those two strings sound the same? You’re not pressing either of them, are you?”
He could distinguish pitch accurately, just by listening.
It had to be perfect pitch—or a highly developed relative pitch.
And that was just what came to mind immediately.
There must have been hundreds—thousands—of things he hadn’t shown her.
When did they grow up this much?
She looked at her two sons quietly.
Talent couldn’t be hidden.
Like a nail in your pocket,
It would eventually poke through and show itself.
Dongyoon played guitar. Taeyoon played bass.
As if they were truly her sons.
They lost their minds anytime they saw a stringed instrument.
It made her sad.
Music was beautiful when observed from one step away.
No one knew that better than Jin Eunha.
That’s why she no longer picked up an instrument.
She had been that way—until now.
“…What are you doing?”
“I have to protect this at all costs.”
“What are you talking about? You think I’d smash your bass or something?”
“I’m not saying you would… exactly…”
“Look at that face. He really thinks so, doesn’t he?”
It was instinct.
A desperate scramble to shield his bass from his mom’s laser-sharp glare.
His older brother clicked his tongue in disbelief.
Their mother’s eyes were still pinned on him.
Wait… but…
They’d softened?
His mom spoke, gently coaxing him.
“Come here. Sit.”
“Yes, just a sec.”
If you didn’t listen in moments like this, it was a disaster waiting to happen.
He quickly stood, placed his bass in the room, and shut the door with a slam.
Then sat across from his mom again.
Her expression—he’d never seen it before.
It was hard to read. He had no idea what she was thinking.
“Taeyoon.”
“Yes.”
“I’m still trying to sort things out in my head…”
He waited quietly for what came next.
“That song you were listening to earlier… I want to hear it. The one you made. ‘You Said Time Wouldn’t Stop’, right?”
At her question, his brother also turned to look at him.
They hadn’t even talked about this between themselves.
She wasn’t asking to hear the song.
She was asking about the story behind it.
“Um, so…”
He began explaining slowly.
How The Kids Who Escaped From Us had come together.
How More Than Time was made, and his experiences with the Cheongseong members.
His mom listened intently, clearly interested.
“So, you’re saying you worked with that group, Cheongseong?”
“Yes.”
“My son… you’re amazing.”
His heart dropped.
‘You’re amazing.’
Just that one simple phrase—he knew how much it meant.
Was she saying it was amazing that he worked with Cheongseong?
Or that he wrote the song?
He didn’t know.
What mattered was that the sharpness in her expression had softened again.
Phew—
He let out a small sigh of relief and began to speak once more.
“I should’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to hide it. I just… I like writing music, and…”
What would be the right words?
How many albums he sold, how much he made in royalties, where he stood in the industry—
He didn’t want to speak in numbers.
How much the public loved his music.
And… how much joy he felt making it.
That’s all he wanted to say.
“I know. I understand.”
His mom slowly nodded, as if she truly understood everything.
“Music is like that. It doesn’t give you time to look elsewhere. Because everything in the world becomes music. When you eat something good, when you meet someone, when you go somewhere—it all turns into sound, doesn’t it?”
He couldn’t answer.
Because that was exactly how it was.
These past few months—
Day and night, all he thought about was music.
But then… how did his mom talk like someone who’d experienced it all?
It was amazing.
And she wasn’t finished.
“No wonder. That More Than Time song… it was so warm. So delicate. I thought, ‘Who wrote this? It’s so lovely.’”
Then, with a soft smile, she said warmly:
“And here you are, right in front of me.”
Out of everything he’d ever heard—
That made him feel the happiest.
That it was his mom. His mom.