Chapter 106: The Drummer, Part One

The protagonist had been sleeping soundly in bed when suddenly the shrill ring of a phone call shattered his sweet dreams. No sooner had he answered than a torrent of harsh scolding crashed over him, leaving him speechless and forcing him to agree meekly to everything demanded.

After hanging up, he was left with nothing but resignation. The call had come from a debt collection agency. Since his rise to fame, he’d neglected practice on the drums, pouring all his time into commercial gigs and performances. His basic skills had grown rusty, and during one show, a rookie mistake had exposed him. Overnight, he became the target of online scorn. People began to doubt his drumming abilities, and every brand he’d ever partnered with demanded to terminate his contracts, forcing him to pay steep penalties. To cover the breach fees, he’d borrowed from every possible source, barely managing to scrape together enough to pay his debts.

This phone call had been a final warning from the collection agency, informing him of his last repayment deadline. Afterward, he felt numb. The only thing of value left to his name was the villa he currently lived in. Faced with the situation, he realized he had to sell it off to pay his debts—otherwise, he dared not imagine what the collectors would do.

Unable to sleep, he switched on the light, illuminating his room one last time, knowing that after today, the house would no longer be his. As the room filled with light, trophies of every shape and size caught his eye. Rising from the bed, he walked around, touching each one in turn.

Here was his first national drumming championship trophy, won at sixteen; here were the awards from various competitions after he made a name for himself. These trophies were not only a chronicle of his honors but also of his growing arrogance. He’d started as a boy with only one dream: to master the drums. Now, he cared for nothing but performing and making money, neglecting his craft. All these changes had taken just four years—yes, in four short years, a person could be transformed so utterly.

For all that time, he’d been living in a dream. He’d never faced a real setback; awards and praise had come from the moment he debuted, and he’d genuinely believed himself a genius, immune to failure.

That phone call had dragged him from his dreamlike existence into harsh reality. He was no genius—soon, he’d be a penniless man selling his home just to pay off debts. Seeing how far he’d fallen, he was filled with regret, but there was nothing to be done. He was a drowning man, cursed and scorned by all.

All he wanted now was to sell the house quickly, pay his debts, and then—what? His mind was a fog; he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

But as soon as he sold the villa, news of his sale to clear debts spread online.

“Once a drumming prodigy, now forced to sell his house—what happened?”
“The so-called drumming genius has fallen so far—is this a moral collapse or a twist of human nature?”
“Was this prodigy just a manufactured talent? Did he ever truly have real skill?”

Not long after the sale, he saw these headlines, and a surge of anger rose within him. Clearly, someone had been tracking him. Even he, dense as he’d been, now understood he’d been deliberately targeted—otherwise, how could his collapse have happened so swiftly? He felt like a rat scurrying across the street, reviled and despised.

After selling the villa, he took one last look at the place, overwhelmed by a storm of emotions and words he had no one to share with. All he could take with him besides a few clothes was his drum kit, long covered in dust from neglect. He hadn’t touched it in ages. There was nothing else in the house worth keeping. As for the trophies, he’d packed them away—he never wanted to see them again. Their sight only brought back painful memories.

With the villa sold, he was effectively homeless. When he’d bought it, he’d sold his old family home, never imagining he’d one day end up on the street. Back then, he’d been full of dreams of success and financial freedom—never expecting to fall this low.

Fortunately, he still had one place he could go: his teacher’s home.

His parents had died when he was six or seven, leaving him a house. Thankfully, an old friend of his parents—a drum teacher—had taken him in and raised him. Without that kindness, he might have starved in some forgotten corner of the world.

His guardian had taught him to play drums, and his talent flourished—leading to all his later achievements. In time, he’d come to regard the man as his godfather, for the care he’d received was no less than that of family.

As he made his way back to his godfather’s home, he was filled with anxiety. He’d once promised him he would dedicate himself to drumming, to become the best drummer he could be. Now, he’d utterly failed those expectations. Since his rise to fame, he’d neglected practice for the empty glamour of shows and nightlife, barely touching his drums except for the occasional performance. He dreaded facing his godfather, uncertain how to explain what had happened.

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Chapter 106 “Drummer, Part One” — free to read.