Three delinquents in leather jackets and scuffed sneakers filled the space with noise. Their laughter was as loud as their music, their messy hair and cocky grins giving them the look of kids who lived too fast, too loud.
Seojun, his magenta-colored hair sticking out under the flickering light, hammered away at his battered guitar like he was born with it in his hands. Oryong pounded on overturned buckets with wild, uneven energy, and Minjoo gripped the mic stand like he was headlining a stadium instead of a junk-filled garage.
Halfway through the chorus, a sharp TWANG cut through the noise. One of Seojun's strings snapped.
"Ah, Fuck!" he hissed, shaking his hand.
Oryong grinned. "There goes our rhythm."
"Shut up, I can still play it." Seojun strummed stubbornly with the rest of the strings. The sound was ugly, but he leaned into it.
They laughed through the mess, finishing the song with a crash of noise before heading out into the streets.
As they walked, a man brushed past Oryong a little too close. Seojun's sharp eyes caught the flick of a hand, the man's fingers slipped into Oryong's pocket.
"...Hey-"
Before Oryong could react, Seojun spun around and kicked the thief into the wall.
The thief cursed, scrambling up and yanking a knife from his coat, shaking. "J-just let me go...! We don't want anyone killed over a wallet!"
Minjoo's face went pale. Oryong stumbled back a step.
Seojun raised an arm in front of them, forcing a grin.
"You've really hit rock bottom, huh? What's next, stealing lunch money from toddlers?"
The thief snarled and lunged.
Seojun didn't hesitate, he swung his guitar up like a bat and SMASHED it across the guy's head. The body of the guitar splintered, strings whipping loose.
The thief staggered, dazed. Seojun swept his legs out, sent him crashing down, then stomped on the hand clutching the knife until it clattered to the pavement.
Leaning down, he took the wallet back as his voice went low.
"Next time you try this, I'll cripple you. Got it?"
The thief scrambled to his feet and bolted into the dark without looking back.
Minjoo pointed to Seojun's guitar. "...Hey, Your guitar."
Seojun stared at the broken guitar in his hand. For a moment, he looked almost bothered. Then he smirked and shrugged.
"Whatever. I'll buy another one."
Minjoo gawked. "That was your favorite, though..."
"It's just a guitar," Seojun cut in, turning away. "Don't make it dramatic."
It was my everything.
The three of them stood there in the quiet, before slowly bursting into nervous laughter, the night carrying them home.
The three of them split ways at the crossroads.
"See you guys tomorrow," Seojun said, waving as he walked a different direction.
"Yeah," Minjoo called back. "Walk home safe."
"Yeah, you too!" Seojun yelled, walking away.
He headed down his street, still feeling the adrenaline in his veins. Behind him, Oryong and Minjoo turned another corner.
Later that night, the two stood in front of a pawn shop window. Behind the glass sat a sleek electric guitar, shining under the neon light.
"That's the one he's been staring at, right?" Oryong asked, hands shoved into his hoodie pocket.
"Yeah," Minjoo said, smirking. "Can you imagine his face if we show up with this?"
They glanced at each other, then burst out laughing.
"Alright," Minjoo said, gripping the bat he carried everywhere. "Birthday surprise it is."
With one swing. CRASH. Glass rained down onto the pavement.
A FEW DAYS LATER
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Seojun opened the apartment door to see Oryong and Minjoo grinning like idiots. He immediately pulled them into a hug.
"You two alright? You've heard the news, right? Those thieves. Guys got guns, jumping people all over town, stealing from stores."
"Pfft, we're fine," Oryong said quickly, brushing it off. "Worry about yourself, man."
Minjoo grinned. "Besides, we've got bigger stuff to think about. Our band? World domination? It's happening."
Seojun laughed, shaking his head. "Your optimism surprises me."
"Speaking of surprise…" Oryong and Minjoo exchanged a look, then shoved a big gift box into Seojun's arms.
"Don't open it yet," Minjoo said. "Wait until after the party."
Seojun raised an eyebrow. "What, is this a cake that explodes or something?"
"Just wait," Oryong said, pushing past him into the house. "You'll thank us later."
Seojun sighed, smiling as he followed them in.
Seojun's cramped living room was filled with laughter and cheap decorations taped to the walls. A tiny cake sat on the table, half its frosting already smudged from Oryong's finger.
"Hey! I said wait until the candles," Seojun groaned, swatting his friend's hand away.
"Couldn't help it," Oryong grinned. "Sugar addiction, man. It's by instinct."
Minjoo smirked, strumming Seojun's busted guitar like it was still whole. "This thing is garbage now, but it still makes noise. You could make it a signature sound, y'know? 'The Broken String Special.'"
Everyone laughed. Even Seojun, though a part of him winced.
Later, mid-party, the three of them slumped around the table, bellies full of cheap snacks and soda. The big gift box sat in the corner like it was waiting.
Minjoo leaned back, resting his hand on top of it. His voice was casual, but his eyes flickered strangely.
"Hey, Seojun... just so you know, this gift, it's really special."
Oryong nodded, serious for once. "Yeah. So promise us something, alright? Whatever happens... don't throw this one away. Hold onto it. Always."
Seojun blinked, thrown off by their tone.
"What's with you guys? It's just a birthday, not my funeral."
"Just promise," Minjoo insisted, pushing a smile.
Seojun rolled his eyes but chuckled. "Fine, fine. I promise. Happy?"
The two grinned, clinking their soda cans together.
Hours later, the party wound down. Seojun and his mom stood by the door, waving as Oryong and Minjoo stepped out into the cool night.
"Thanks for coming," Seojun's mom said warmly.
"Yeah, see you tomorrow," Seojun added, his arms crossed but his grin easy.
The two boys walked away, then paused. Almost in sync, they glanced back at Seojun. Their smiles looked the same as always, but something in their eyes lingered, something heavy.
Then the door closed.
Seojun stood there for a second, staring at the wood grain as if it could give him answers.
And that was the last night I've gotten a good night's sleep.
That night would never leave me. The laughter, the gift box, the way they looked back before the door closed, it all clung to me like smoke. Why? Because of what happened after that night... I still don't understand, why it happened...
And the worst part? It's still haunting me. Even now.
THUD!
Seojun's back slammed against the training mat.
He groaned, wind knocked out of him.
...What a way to start the day.
"Yoon Seojun, get up!" the instructor barked.
Seojun peeled himself off the floor, strands of messy black hair falling into his eyes as he brushed it aside with the back of his hand. "Yes... sir."
The group of trainees watching on the sidelines snickered.
The instructor grabbed Seojun by the wrist again.
"Now, pay attention," the man announced, locking Seojun's arm. "See, if he resists like this-"
Another twist, another THUD. Seojun hit the mat face-first, his hair scattering over his eyes.
"...this happens."
Laughter erupted from the back.
Seojun groaned into the mat, his muffled voice dry.
At least my suffering serves an educational purpose.
The bell rang, sharp and shrill, echoing off the gym walls. Everyone immediately scattered, chatting and laughing as they grabbed their bags.
Seojun was still flat on the mat.
Self defense... what a load of crap.
He let out a long sigh before slowly rolling over.
Pushing himself up, he cracked his back with an audible pop.
God... I think my spine just filed for early retirement.
IN THE SHOWER
Steam curled around him as the water hissed down, plastering his hair to his forehead. He braced one hand against the tiled wall, head bowed, letting the heat soak into his sore shoulders.
It all started years ago after that night. An international criminal organization crawled out of the shadows and tore the world apart piece by piece
Images flickered in his mind. News reports, burning cars, masked men running through alleys, bodies carried on stretchers.
Robberies, murders, kidnappings. You name it, they did it. The streets stopped feeling like streets and started feeling like minefields.
A poster on the wall: "Mandatory Self-Defense Training: Protect yourself, protect your neighbors, protect your country"
The government panicked. Their genius solution? Force every teenager and adult into "mandatory self-defense".
He gave a bitter chuckle.
Because nothing screams safety like teaching the entire country how to punch each other in the face.
Seojun tilted his head back into the water, eyes shut.
And that... makes my insomnia even worse.