I left the meeting with Justin’s permission and went for a quiet and peaceful stroll through the streets a few blocks from the college. 

I had no idea I’d driven down a street that would take me back to my previous location. I wasn’t aware of it at the time, but I was wandering along a well-worn route toward the historic mansion.

My head twitched when I saw the big cypress gate with an attached metal plate reading “Yoon Residence” and the stone wall surrounding the old house. 

As I recalled joyful memories, tears flowed down my cheeks.

“Alex,” the man, older than me, called my attention.

“Yes, dad,” I responded. I shifted my gaze to a large man with a broad grin on his face.

“You have a great ear for the drums, son,” he said as he opened his arms wide, inviting me to hug him. “You make me proud to have a great son like you. Would you like to play again?” He said after he squeezed me tightly and I returned to my seat.

I turned on the CD player, which was playing, and tapped my drumsticks to play the beats perfectly. When I was seven years old, all I could see was my delighted father, who was pleased with my talent.

“Hey, Daddy,” a small child yelled from behind him.

“Hey, my little girl,” he spun in his seat to see his daughter sprinting towards him. He then laughed as he raised her with both arms and placed her on his lap. “Look, Alex plays well, right?”

She smiled and nodded. “Alex, you’re a fantastic drummer.”

While drumming, I grinned. She dashed up behind me and hugged me. She said openly, “I love you, Alex,” to make sure I heard her. 

“I love you, too,” I responded with a nod. 

My sister took a step back and wrapped herself around me once more. She drew back and smiled brightly at me.

“Dad, kids, I’m going to bake some cookies,” my mother said, motioning me to the kitchen. She was dressed in her adorable apron. 

When I heard her voice urging us to sample her newly baked pastries, I almost leapt from my seat, tossed my drumsticks, and dashed over to her, while my father and sister dashed to the kitchen.

“Is that you, Alex?” An elderly lady dressed in a maid’s costume stuttered. 

I looked at her with a blank expression on my face, recognizing that the old outfit had not changed since I departed.

“I’m very glad you returned.” She hugged me as if she had been expecting my return. “How are things going for you, Alex? You haven’t visited the house in a long time.” She cupped my face with her shivering cold hands as she tried to reach it.

“Perhaps you mistook me for someone else.” I flinched.

“No, I don’t.”

“Alex, you don’t remember who I am?”

“Please accept my apologies. However, I don’t.”

She swiftly drew her hands away from me when she realized I didn’t recognize her. “I’ve been looking after you since you were born. My name is Maddie, and I’m your aunt. You have no recollection of anything?” She continued to scan my face, tears welled up around her eyes.

“Aunt Maddie?” I knitted and lifted my brow, trying to remember who she was.

“Yeah,” she replied with an attempt to grin.

I let out a frustrated groan. “I’m sorry, but I have no recollection of you at all.” Please accept my apologies.” I gave her a little wave as I took a few steps away.

She grabbed my hand before I could move away. 

“I understand why you have trouble remembering who I am. Please allow me to serve you again, Alex, if you don’t mind, for the time being, at least for the last time.”

I was pained by seeing her frustrated and attempting to keep additional tears from spilling. With my words, I didn’t mean to hurt her. Pretending to know her, on the other hand, made things worse. 

I nodded, thinking that agreeing with her wish would make her happy. The catastrophe that occurred many years ago seemed to be enough of a burden.

I was even more startled when I walked inside the gate. 

I realized how everything I had seen in the old house had remained unchanged, seemingly untouched for a long time. It was as if time had stopped.

Outside the old mansion, the interior was still covered in lush Bermuda grass that had been well-kept for years, including my mother’s modest flower garden in the far corner. The modest cafe where my sister and I used to sit and converse looked the same.

I was invited into the old house by the old woman before I noticed the same large wooden intricately carved doors and took my first step. 

With a smile, she beckoned me in. 

I continued looking around the house, moving from the living room to the kitchen and back to the living room, where we used to hang out as kids.

The ancient picture frames remained on the wall, while the small frames stayed untouched on top of the piano. Then I quickly pressed the keys from one note to the next. I sat in the chair and sang the lyrics to the family’s favorite song.

The old woman stated, “It’s been a long time since I heard the song performed in the house.” 

I felt my chest tighten and closed the piano keys without glancing at her. 

“After all… nothing has changed.”

I stood up to walk to the stairwell, and she frowned.

***

I sat at the edge of my bed, flat on the smooth mattress, staring at the ceiling with much emotion. “Sleeping in this bed again brings back both happy and bad memories,” I grumbled as I closed my eyes.

I stood up and walked about the room, touching old toys and my first drum set, as well as my old closet, which was full of old, bland, and monotonous clothes. Seeing them again, in contrast to my current colorful style, reminded me of how ordinary I was.

I opened the drawers beneath my vanity mirror one by one when I got there. 

Then, something unexpectedly fell to the ground. I grabbed it up and sat back in my bed, my gaze fixed on the old voice recorder.

Without thinking, I hit the play button and waited until I heard a woman’s voice say, “Sam,” I whispered. 

When I heard her at the device, tears welled up in my eyes. I’ve almost forgotten how her voice sounds and how she used to appear.

“Hey, Alex, I’m so grateful to have a kind, charming, attractive, and intelligent brother like you. That in itself makes me proud of myself,” she guffawed, as though glad to know how proud she was of my academic achievements.

She took a breath and stopped. It gave me the impression that she still had something to say but was scared to say it. 

“I know our parents have been putting a lot of pressure on you to do what they want. I’m sure you’ve always wanted to be a musician. I’m sure they weren’t pleased with your decision. They didn’t like it, to be sure. They were never happy about it.

They want you to take business as seriously as they want you to take over the company as soon as you graduate from college in another country. 

You tried living alone in a distant place while studying a subject you disliked. You’ve gone to such lengths to please them. 

However, knowing that they are unappreciative of your efforts makes me sad. But…

“But, what, Sam?” I repeated with a sense of demand, “Tell me.”

Your bravery and unwavering devotion to music have greatly influenced my decision to pursue a career in music. 

You successfully repelled them, and you decided to return to our country to seek your first love. Music.

Tears streamed down my face, sliding down to my earlobes, as soon as I heard those words from her, which I hadn’t heard from her when she was alive.

After a long pause, she continued by saying, “By the way, I haven’t seen you with a woman you care about. I wish you luck in finding a mate you can trust and love. That person who, like me, will give you their full support. Alex, I adore you! I’m in love with you!!”

The voice was silenced by a loud kissing sound. 

Then, there was nothing but silence after that. 

Even though the device ticked and stopped playing, my tears didn’t stop flowing. 

They kept flowing and saturated the sheets and blankets on which I was resting. I sobbed and shook my head later, rejecting her death.

I took a breath and drew the recorder close to my chest, practically cuddling me. “I’m a douche of a brother.” 

My quiet scream grew louder until I strained my voice.