Kurt Hummel

Rumi grew up on pop music, her childhood filled with songs by Kara and SNSD, SHINee and 2NE1, dancing in her bedroom to 'Mirotic.' In the lead-up to debut, she'd listen to 'Love Scenario' as she rode the subway from Hanlim to the agency for practice, nursing teenage crushes, and gained strength to keep working toward her own debut by listening to Red Velvet's. She turned to the Sunlight Sisters' albums again and again, picking out her mother's voice.

That doesn't mean, though, that she isn't well-versed in other genres. She learned traditional songs as a child, and there was a point where Celine made her watch old footage of performances by previous Hunter trios, as far back as they existed, which wasn't terribly far compared to the long history of their secret and sacred profession. Learning how to play music was a must, as well, though of all the instruments Celine had Rumi try, guitar is the only one she really enjoys. Still, it's enough that she recognized the talent of the young man at the piano within moments of entering Kagura. It's a classical piece she doesn't know by name, and his hands dance as fluidly across the keys as Mira does across the stage, certain and familiar as breathing.

She offers her compliments when he finishes his piece, applauding gently, and they exchange names and mutual excitement. One thing Rumi has been deeply thankful for during her time here in Darrow is the presence of a Korean community, but it remains a relief to meet another person from Seoul, and a musician no less. She quickly figures out that Jae-eun isn't from this time, though, only passingly familiar with the concept of idols, and she loses track of the time, curled up on the couch by the fire, clutching a cup of cocoa while they discuss it and music and the pressure of the industry. It turns out he's met Mira, which is somehow not a surprise at all.

Though he protests he's not very good at pop music, less familiar with it, she coaxes him to the piano to accompany her, laughing as she leans against it. His being from the '70s means they don't have a ton of common ground for music from home, but they wind up compromising with a Tiffany Charlotte song they manage to turn into a soulful ballad.

The season is almost over for the lodge. It's the last weekend before they close, and most people, she thinks, have already moved on. She doesn't feel too bad, then, about the fact that they've taken over the foyer, filled it with pretty chords and her voice.

She won't lie. Tiffany Charlotte was good. Rumi is better.

"I can't believe you don't know Taemin sunbaenim," she tells Jae-eun, shaking her head. She grins, teasing. "I have to send you 'Advice,' so you can learn and play backup for me." Everyone and their mom covered 'Guilty' a few years back, but she's pretty sure she'd eat an 'Advice' cover up, given the chance.

"I can't promise I'll be any good," Jae-eun says, his smile rueful but definitely present. She'll take that as a good sign.

"Are you kidding?" she asks. "I don't know the last time I heard anyone play like that. You'll totally kill it. Though, uh, I guess we don't have sheet music for Taemin in this town, huh?"

Jae-eun shrugs at that. "I can figure it out."

"I like the confidence." She has no doubt he's right, and she's full of ideas.

[ One last hurrah at Kagura before it closes! Timed to Sunday, though when in the day is up to you, even if I got this up a bit late... Find Rumi and/or Jae-eun, whether at the café or the piano, before or after their jam session. Open until this says otherwise. ]