BOOM.
The sound wasn't just heard; it was felt. Jin-hyun didn't hit the drums; he attacked them. The kick drum slammed into the chests of the front row like a physical blow.
Myung-dae's bass line ran. It was a distorted, dirty, low-end growl that rattled the teeth of everyone within a hundred-meter radius.
And then Jun-seo.
He stepped forward, his eyes squeezed shut, and ripped into the opening riff. It wasn't the clean, sterile technique of Hanyeong's lead guitarist. It was jagged. It was screaming. It was the sound of a year's worth of guilt and silence being torn apart.
I grabbed the mic stand with both hands, leaning into it until the metal groaned.
"멈춰버린 시계 바늘..."
I didn't sing it pretty. I snarled it.
"먼지 쌓인 작은 방..."
I looked out at the audience. The Red Blazers were staring, mouths slightly open. They had expected a garage band. They had expected a mess.
Instead, they got a wall of sound.
Leo's violin cut through the heavy distortion like a razor blade—high, frantic, and beautiful. It was the counterpoint to the chaos, the melody dancing on top of the rhythm section's violence.
Jun-seo with his tenor vocals sang the last line before chorus.
"Can you hear the sound?"
We moved into the chorus.
"We are not fine! (No!) We are broken, we are messy!"
I threw my head back, letting the rasp tear through my throat.
"그래도 괜찮아, 지금 이 순간 !"
The energy on stage was volatile.
Myung-dae and Jun-seo were playing back-to-back, leaning into each other. For the first time in a year, they weren't fighting. They were locked in. Myung-dae's bass thumped in perfect sync with Jun-seo's downstrokes.
I ran to the edge of the stage. I saw Kang Do-jin in the wings, his arms crossed, his expression darkening.
Keep watching, I thought. Watch us burn your perfection to the ground.
We hit the second verse. The tempo sped up.
Jin-hyun was a blur of motion, spinning his sticks, laughing like a maniac as he punished the cymbals. He looked like he was having the time of his life.
Myung-dae began rapping.
"Yeah, lies and truth, 섞여버린 youth."
The crowd was shifting. The tentative clapping from the Kirin side had turned into jumping. And even on the Hanyeong side... heads were bobbing. You can't fake energy. And you can't ignore it.
Then came the bridge.
"기억해."
The heavy instruments cut out.
"Even if we fall... "
Suddenly, it was just Jun-seo and my guitar. Jun-seo switched pedals, his electric guitar fading into a clean, ambient reverb.
Jun-seo stood under the spotlight.
Then Myung-dae joined.
The sweat was dripping down my neck. My chest was heaving.
I looked up.
Directly above me was the scaffolding. The place where it happened. The rusted metal ghost that haunted this stage.
I looked at Jun-seo. He was looking up too. His face was pale, glistening with sweat. He looked terrified.
I walked over to him. I didn't say anything. I just stood next to him, shoulder to shoulder.
We're here, I projected without words. We're not falling.
Jun-seo looked at me. He took a shaky breath. He looked back at his guitar.
"You know what we do?
We land together!"
And he played.
It was the solo. The one we added. It started slow, mourning, a tribute to the friend they lost. But then, it began to climb. It got faster. More desperate. More alive.
It wasn't a lament anymore. It was a scream of survival.
Myung-dae came back in, the bass building underneath. Jin-hyun started a roll on the snare, building the tension like a rising tide.
"We are not fine!" I screamed into the mic, breaking away from the lyrics.
"We are crazy, we are dizzy."
CRASH.
The final chorus exploded. Pyrotechnics—the ones the school actually sanctioned this time—shot up from the front of the stage, pillars of white fire.
The audience lost their minds.
Kirin students were screaming, climbing on chairs. Even the Hanyeong students were caught in the blast radius. I saw red blazers jumping. I saw glow sticks flying into the air.
I grabbed the mic stand and dragged it across the stage, ending up right in front of the VIP box. I looked Chairman Park in the eye. I pointed at him.
Look at us. Look at the 'Sabotage'.
We hit the final chord. A dissonant, messy, glorious E-minor that rang out until our amps buzzed with exhaustion.
We stopped.
Silence.
For a heartbeat, the only sound was our heavy breathing and the ringing in our ears.
Then, the amphitheater detonated.
It wasn't polite applause. It was a roar. A primal, deafening roar that shook the leaves off the trees.
"H-WNOT! H-WNOT! H-WNOT!"
Myung-dae threw his bass strap off and tackled Jun-seo in a hug. Jun-seo didn't push him away. He hugged him back, burying his face in Myung-dae's shoulder.
Jin-hyun kicked his drum stool over and jumped off the riser, landing next to me. He threw an arm around my neck, smelling of sweat and triumph.
"We killed them!" Jin-hyun yelled in my ear. "We actually killed them!"
Leo was bowing frantically, his face red, holding his violin like a trophy.
I stood there, center stage, my chest heaving, looking out at the sea of lights.
I saw Chae-rin in the wings, clapping her hands above her head, a rare, bright smile on her face.
I saw Kang Do-jin turning away, defeated, walking back into the darkness.
I looked up at the evening sky, past the scaffolding, past the ghosts.
We did it, I thought, the adrenaline finally giving way to a wave of pure, exhausted joy.
Condition Two: Complete.