౨ৎ𝙂𝙚𝙪𝙢 𝙎𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙜-𝙅𝙖𝙚..³

Geum Sung-jae knew from childhood that home is not a place where you're welcome. Shouts, drunken arguments, broken dishes, the smell of alcohol—that's what he remembered instead of warmth. From the age of six, he'd run outside because it was quieter there than in his own apartment.

While other children gave their parents drawings, Sung-jae poured his heart and soul into his cards, but they were thrown into the trash without even a glance. His mother didn't hug him, his father didn't praise him. There was no love. When his father beat his mother, Sung-jae threw himself between them, but was punished by both—first his father, then his mother for "interfering." He cried at night, looking out the window at other people's happy families. He learned the most important thing: love must be earned. But no matter how hard he tried, it never came.

At school, he became an outcast. He had no friends, only two "buddies" who only called him when no one better could be found. He was ridiculed for his tattered clothes and dirty rumors about his family. Bullying became a familiar backdrop, humiliation the norm.

Nobody needed him. His father drank, his mother drank, and they didn't care about their son.

As he got older, he almost never came home. He was in pain. Then one day, someone offered him a cigarette: "Just try it." He tried it. Then alcohol. And later, something else. It simply dulled the pain.

At sixteen, he hooked up with Baekjin, the man who introduced him to the Union, a kind of school gang with no rules. There, he started fighting. And he enjoyed it. He beat someone up, earned money, and earned respect. He became the man people had once feared. At seventeen, he was already Baekjin's right-hand man. Now, just hearing his name made people lower their eyes. He cut off all ties with his parents. He didn't care whether they were alive or not. Deep down, though, he was still that boy who just wanted to be loved.

Today, at the Serene bar, Sung Jae was drinking with Baekjin, chatting about the new members of the "union." The music was pleasantly tinkling, and the purple lighting was soft on the eyes, creating a pleasant atmosphere.