Chapter Two: Strings of Connection
The night before, after their conversation, Seojun had fallen asleep while listening to Elias talk about his life by the lake. He had been thinking about how to return home, but exhaustion had overtaken him. Elias, noticing the steady rise and fall of Seojun's breath, had quietly brought a blanket from the nearby couch. As he draped it over Seojun's shoulders, he paused for a moment, watching the peaceful expression on the young musician's face. A small smile played on Elias's lips as he whispered, "It was really nice meeting you." Then, without another word, he had retreated to his own room, leaving Seojun to rest.
Now, as Seojun sat up on the plush guestroom bed, his eyes landed on his keyboard resting on the desk. The sight brought back a pang of confusion—and awe. How had his music transported him across the world? And why?
A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
"Come in," Seojun said hesitantly.
Elias entered, holding a tray with a cup of coffee and a plate of croissants. He looked as polished as the night before, his sharp features softened by the morning light.
"I thought you might be hungry," Elias said, setting the tray down on the desk. "You had quite the ordeal last night."
"Thank you," Seojun said quietly, still unsure how to act around the man who had so effortlessly taken him in.
Elias sat on a nearby chair, studying Seojun with a calm yet curious expression. "I imagine you have a lot of questions," he said, breaking the silence.
Seojun nodded. "I don't even know where to begin. This... doesn't feel possible."
Elias leaned back slightly, his hands resting on his knees. "I don't have all the answers, but I can tell you this—what happened to you is extraordinary. The fact that you appeared here, by the lake, seemingly out of nowhere... it's not something I've ever seen before."
Seojun swallowed, his fingers tightening around the blanket. "It happened when I was playing music. I was pouring everything into that song, and then... the air changed. It felt like something was pulling me, and then I was here."
Elias tilted his head, intrigued. "Your music brought you here?"
"I think so," Seojun said softly. "But I don't know how or why. It's never happened before."
Elias's gaze flickered to the keyboard. "Music has a way of connecting people, of crossing boundaries. Perhaps it's connected you to this place or to me for a reason."
Seojun's cheeks flushed at the thought, and he looked away, unsure how to respond.
"I have an idea," Elias said, breaking the silence. "Why don't you try playing again? Perhaps the same piece you played last night. It might give us some clues."
Seojun hesitated. The thought of teleporting again—of losing control—filled him with a mix of fear and curiosity. But Elias's calm demeanor was reassuring, and a part of him wanted to understand what was happening.
"Alright," Seojun said, his voice steadying. "I'll try."
Elias gestured for him to bring the keyboard to the grand living room, where a sleek black piano stood near the large windows overlooking the lake. The morning sun glinted off its polished surface, and the sight of it filled Seojun with a strange sense of calm.
Setting up his keyboard nearby, Seojun took a deep breath and positioned his fingers over the keys. The melody from the previous night was still fresh in his mind, as if it were etched into his very being. Closing his eyes, he began to play.
The notes flowed effortlessly, filling the room with the same haunting beauty that had carried him across the world. Elias stood nearby, arms crossed, his expression unreadable as he listened.
As the song reached its peak, Seojun felt it again—that strange, rippling energy in the air. His heart raced, but he pushed through, determined to see what would happen.
Suddenly, the energy subsided, leaving the room still and silent. Seojun's fingers froze on the keys, and he opened his eyes, his breath coming in quick bursts.
Elias stepped forward, his gaze intent. "Nothing happened this time," he said thoughtfully.
"I don't understand," Seojun murmured, his hands trembling.
"Perhaps it's tied to your emotions," Elias suggested. "Last night, you said you were overwhelmed. Maybe the intensity of your feelings activated whatever ability you have."
Seojun considered this, his mind racing. Could his music and emotions truly hold that kind of power?
Elias placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll figure this out together."
Seojun looked up at him, surprised by the warmth in his voice. For the first time since this strange journey began, he felt a spark of hope.
As the day unfolded, Elias showed Seojun around the mansion and the lake, their conversations weaving between casual and contemplative. Seojun learned that Elias owned a successful technology company based in Munich but often retreated to his lakeside home for solitude.
"You're not what I expected from a CEO," Seojun remarked at one point, earning a soft chuckle from Elias.
"And you're not what I expected from a piano prodigy," Elias replied, his eyes glinting with amusement.
By the time the sun set again, casting its golden glow over the lake, Seojun felt a sense of belonging he hadn't felt in years.
But as he sat by the water's edge, gazing at the horizon, a question lingered in his mind:
What would happen the next time he played?