“Third row, third on the left.” The girl tore his ticket, then looked through Orlando Humphries as if he didn’t exist. Just as he liked. Orlando made his way down the hallowed aisle of the Wigmore Hall, a small but prestigious concert hall in London, England. The room was buzzing, the audience chattering excitedly, flapping extortionately-priced programmes, smiling and waving to other concert-going friends and acquaintances, whether real or imagined. A number of oriental-looking men and women, dressed in smart suits and exuberant gowns respectively, dotted the audience. The atmosphere was electric. So-Young Lee’s first performance outside North Korea was in the offing.
