When security couldn't locate Ji-Woon, she came snooping. She's paranoid about death threats they've been getting from a fan. Pushes the door open, steps softly on plush carpet, hears the invader around the corner, sees. He pats the knife concealed above his ankle. He'll defend himself, test the invader for operatic sounds, like an impromptu aria, as he surprises them with a blade in their gut. How could they resist him? But he's ready. He knew a crazed fan would take things too far someday. He faintly hears someone rummaging inside.
Ji-Woon freezes as he reaches his hotel room, the door opened a crack. The mundane details are what elevate the splendour of his artwork. In the past week he's transitioned between concert rehearsals to disguising his celebrity visage, staking out his victim, assuming alternate identities, purchasing supplies, and stealing recording equipment-all while paying off his security detail to leave him be. Even the most mundane detail required his attention. Ji-Woon has already prepared a warehouse at an abandoned harbour for tomorrow's act. With Lucas' voice, Ji-Woon can create art. To think, Lucas practically fell into his lap, the Brazilian man having sung at a recording studio Ji-Woon visited. His voice is the brush stroke Ji-Woon has been searching for. Nowhere near my level, but a diamond, nonetheless. The angelic, ethereal sound of a young Brazilian man singing floats from an open window. Water splashes into a basin a skateboard's wheels grind over asphalt a rufous-bellied thrush chirps, and. Ji-Woon lives within the sounds of Rio de Janeiro. Memories & Logs Ji-Woon Hak: Dissonance for the Dead Memory 435 2.1 Ji-Woon Hak: Dissonance for the Dead.
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