Devil’s Music - Chapter 77: Lollapalooza Festival

The audience, still dazed, stared at the sky or at the screens reflecting what had just happened. Camera operators stationed on metal structures throughout the venue snapped to attention, quickly rewinding their LED screens to replay the just-recorded segment.

As one cameraperson lowered their head and another gestured towards a different structure, both indicating no aurora had been captured by any camera, a sense of disappointment swept the crew.

Three men walked away from the eerily silent Chicago Grand Park, where an unbelievable 100,000-strong audience had gathered. The man with a mane-like hair turned to the one with black hair and inquired.

“Your Highness Kamageen, did you show each human their loved ones?”

Kamageen smiled and nodded in agreement.

“Yes, Puerson. That was the message the child wanted to convey.”

Puerson, glancing back and forth, asked, “Then who was the woman shown to the child?”

The blond-haired youth, Pyemon, chuckled heartily.

“Hahaha!”

Perplexed by Pyemon’s sudden laughter, Puerson queried while wearing a puzzled expression.

“What? Are you referring to Lady Lilith?”

Kamageen chuckled, looking back at the stage. “The child has yet to experience love. Otherwise, they would have thought of their mother or sister. The humans listening would have done the same.”

Pyemon, struggling to contain his laughter, blushing, said, “Hehe, that child doesn’t even know in their dreams. Daring to consider Lady Lilith, the mistress of Hell, as an object of unrequited love. Hahaha!”

Kamageen joined in the laughter and patted Puerson’s back.

“Come on, let’s go. We’ve been here too long. Puerson, take care tonight.”

After Puerson nodded, the three men gradually disappeared over the hill. As they vanished from sight, Kamageen snapped his fingers.

“Snap!”

Instantly, the mesmerized audience at the back of the vanished stage began to awaken. Simultaneously, their illusions shattered, and the aurora disappeared. People, now conscious, gasped at each other before looking back at the stage and bursting into cheers.

“Woaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Amazing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Bravo!!!!!!!!”

The cheers started from the back and cascaded toward the front of the stage. In an instant, Chicago Grand Park was engulfed in an overwhelming cheer, and the wave of people jumping and cheering created a spectacle on the stage.

Carlos remained in the posture of playing the guitar, head bowed and eyes closed. After a brief moment of relishing the feeling, he slowly opened his eyes. The first person he saw upon looking up was Geon, sitting on his knees on the amp, gazing at the audience.

Geon, meeting Carlos’s intense gaze, thought, ‘Muse… the muse has come to me as well.’

As Carlos looked around with trembling eyes, he noticed Rob, who had fixed his gaze on Geon. Carlos chuckled, tapped Rob’s shoulder, and said, “Muse. We’ve seen the muse today.”

As Santana exited the main stage, preparation crew for the next act rushed in. But the cheers echoing in Chicago Grand Park seemed eternal, continuing endlessly.

That night, Rob and Carlos returned to their hotel, celebrating and drinking until the alcohol became their lullaby. Though Geon, not a drinker, watched them, amused, as they wandered around with bottles in hand. Eventually, in the early hours, one by one, they succumbed to sleep amid the scattered bottles.

**

11 AM.

Geon woke up groggily and quickly got ready. Rob, half-awake, asked as Geon prepared to leave, “Huh? Where are you going?”

Geon, laughing softly at Rob’s drowsiness while lying on the floor, replied, “I have somewhere important to go.”

Seeing Rob slipping back into sleep, Geon carefully lifted his guitar and headed out of the hotel. Chicago’s morning had swiftly moved on from yesterday’s live show. Geon arrived at Millennium Station after a 10-minute walk. The hotdog truck operated by the elderly couple was still there, and naturally, the empty bench caught his eye.

Geon walked to the bench, placed his guitar down, and looked around. Suddenly, the grandmother, folding hotdog wrappers behind the truck, noticed Geon and approached enthusiastically.

“Oh, you’re back! Your hotdog vanished when I went to reheat it yesterday. Let me make another delicious one for you. Here, have a hotdog!”

After smiling at the grandmother, Geon asked, “Did the lady from yesterday come by today?”

Wiping her hands with a towel, the grandmother looked at Geon, puzzled. “Oh, her? She should be here now. She usually comes around 11:30. But why do you ask?”

Geon smiled and took out his guitar without saying a word.

“I have a debt to repay.”

As the grandmother watched Geon tune his guitar, she noticed a woman approaching from afar. The woman walked slowly, just like yesterday, and stood at the same spot, looking down with a sorrowful expression. Geon sat on the bench, placed the guitar on his lap, and began to play.

Watching him play a melody that was so sad yet beautiful, the grandmother, standing beside him, looked at Geon with astonished eyes. Passersby, too, turned their heads at the sudden sound of the guitar. Geon fixed his gaze on the woman and started to sing softly.

“I have often told you stories

about the way I lived the life

of a drifter waiting for the day”

The woman, standing alone, listened to Geon’s serenade with tears welling up in her eyes.

The grandmother covered her mouth upon hearing a voice so beautiful and sorrowful, not wanting to disturb Geon’s song. Geon, seeing a woman who seemed unaware of his song, sang softly, as if she couldn’t hear, while gazing at the ground.

“When I’d take your hand

and sing you songs

Then maybe you would say

‘Come lay with me, love me’

And I would surely stay”

As Geon’s song continued, passersby stopped in their tracks. Those who turned their gaze toward Geon also noticed the woman he was looking at. Even those who didn’t understand English paused their conversations, captivated by the unusual sight of a woman being serenaded.

“Many times I’ve been a traveler

I looked for something new

In days of old when nights were cold

I wandered without you”

“I thought my eyes had seen you standing near

Though blindness is confusing

It shows that you’re not here”

Geon’s melodious song resonated deeply with everyone nearby, akin to listening to music through headphones, enveloping their senses.

“Now I feel I’m growing older

And the songs that I have sung

echo in the distance like the sound

of a windmill going round

I guess I’ll always be

a soldier of fortune”

Tears fell beneath the woman’s feet.

One drop, then another, until they poured down in torrents.

“Sob… Sniff, sniff…”

As the woman wept, shedding more tears, her shoulders trembling, she eventually sank to the ground, crying out loud.

“Aaahhh~~ Sniff, sniff”

Geon continued playing the guitar, watching her.

“Yes, it’s better to cry. Let it out. Louder.”

The poignant sound of the woman’s heartbreaking sobbing and the soul-stirring guitar merged, echoing through Millennium Station. Even the man looking bewildered as he emerged from the subway, the middle-aged person hurrying somewhere, and the elderly man grilling sausages from his truck—all stopped to look.

All eyes were on the woman, not Geon.

A grandmother selling hotdogs made her way toward her. Slowly, she approached, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder, sitting down in front of her, and gently wiping her tears away. When the tear-streaked woman looked up at the grandmother, she held both her hands. They didn’t speak, but it felt like words of comfort were exchanged silently.

“Stay strong.”

Witnessing the scene between the grandmother and the woman, the onlookers moved. Suddenly, over ten people surrounded her, offering comforting embraces and supportive gestures. No words were spoken, no one knew her story, yet there, in front of Millennium Station, was an array of people offering solace through their eyes.

Geon stopped playing the guitar, but people continued to gather. He stood up from the bench, packed his guitar, then turned respectfully toward the woman.

“My song may not have reached you completely yet. Perhaps it even amplified your sadness. But someday, I’ll compose music that will console you. Thank you, truly.”

>

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