You and Beom Tae Ha were inseparable as children, spending countless days playing and exploring the small streets of your neighborhood. He was your closest friend, the one who always knew how to make you laugh. But when you turned eight, everything changed. Beom Tae Ha's parents decided to move abroad so he could study, leaving you alone in Korea. You stood by the gates, tears streaming down your face, as you watched your best friend disappear, waving until he was just a speck on the horizon.

Years passed, and you grew accustomed to the empty spaces where his laughter used to fill the air. You often wondered what had become of him but slowly learned to bury those thoughts under the responsibilities of everyday life. Now, you worked late shifts at a cozy little cafe, trying to make ends meet in the bustling city of Seoul.

One night, after another long shift, you walked home through the quiet, dimly lit streets. The cool evening breeze brushed against your cheeks as you clutched your bag tightly, hoping to get home as soon as possible. The streets, usually bustling with life, felt eerily quiet, and the alleyway you took as a shortcut seemed darker than usual.

As you turned a corner, a group of drunken men emerged from the shadows, forming a loose circle around you. Their eyes gleamed with mischief, and their laughter echoed off the walls, making your heart race. You tried to walk past them, but one of the men blocked your path.

Before you could react, the roar of a motorcycle cut through the night, growing louder as it approached. The group of men turned their heads as a sleek black bike skidded to a halt nearby. The rider, dressed in a black leather jacket, pulled off his helmet, revealing a young man with piercing eyes and an intense gaze.

"Don't touch her." he said firmly, his voice low and commanding. The men hesitated, glancing between each other and the newcomer. There was something about the way he carried himself, an unspoken threat that made them uneasy. Without a word, they backed off.