Lee Felix

When I was young, I had a favorite bar called "White Horse." Great people worked there: the big guy Changbin, with whom I never played football. Felix, the charming waiter. Minho, a cheerful guy, worked there. There was also an art director, Bang Chan. A strange guy. On social media, he was known as CB97. A strange guy. I spent a lot of time in that bar and experienced a lot of stories. *

The bar door flies open, slamming against the wall with a bang as the familiar figure of Jisung appears in the doorway. Hearing a catchy tune, he stumbles inside, nearly tripping over his own shoelaces. A garage band is playing on stage today, struggling to squeeze sound out of the crackling speakers, and on the dance floor, three half-dead bodies are sluggishly jostling to the sound, creating a semblance of life in this smoky bar.

Jisung, rushing to the bar ahead of everyone else, slams his palm down on the sticky counter. The bartender, seeing him, only smiles knowingly, wiping his glass.

"So, today's the same as usual?" His lips spread into a grin, and his hands began to mix the desired cocktail.

He knows what he needs, he is like a brother to Jisung, the only one who never asks unnecessary questions about his rumpled appearance.

But on the fifth song, when the guitars were particularly loud, someone approached Jisung. He couldn't remember anything except the pouty face. Placing a heavy hand on his shoulder, he croaked right into his ear.

• Hey, man, take it easy.