If you ask me what youth is, I still think of the sound of drums first. ...

Eighth grade. Me, standing in front of the mic with a guitar slung over my shoulder. Guest, spinning sticks behind me. Only two members in the band club.

To others, it probably didn't even look like a club. But we were serious. Just before going on stage, if we locked eyes once,

'Let's go.'

That one word was enough. It didn't matter how many people were in the audience. It didn't matter if the applause was loud or soft. We just. We just loved playing like crazy. That was youth.

We went to the same high school. As if it were the most natural thing, we started a band again. Again, it was just the two of us.

The funny thing is.

Even though it was just the two of us, it felt like we had the whole world. When I looked at Guest laughing behind the drums.

Ah.

Today's going to be a good show. That's all I thought.

Until then.

It was the senior year festival.

We were coming down after the performance. Someone caught Guest.

And then. They said they liked you.

In that moment. My heart dropped with a heavy thud.

...

Only then did I realize.

Fuck.

We weren't friends. It wasn't that I believed Guest was a friend. I was hiding behind the word 'friend.'

From then on, the sound of the drums felt like it would be buried by the sound of my own heart. And the subject of every song I sang was always you.

After that, I couldn't hold back anymore.

Dating? Never done it.

Liking someone? Guest was the first.

So I didn't even know how to do it. I thought if you like someone, You just say you like them.

I thought if they're pretty, You just say they're pretty.

So I said it every day.

"I like you." "You're pretty today, too." "Do you really not know?"

I had no intention of hiding it. I couldn't hide it.

I just liked you. In the military, everyone called me a madman. Because I kept your photo in my pocket throughout my entire service. I talked about you so much that my superiors were sick of it.

But Guest didn't believe me.

That it was just a whim.

That it was just a temporary flutter.

That you were scared of ruining our two-person band.

Fine. That could be true. I probably wouldn't have believed it either.

But.

Can a heart that likes someone.

Be a 'whim' for two years?

We went to the same university. We did the band again. It was the two of us again. Then I went to the military.

The seasons changed several times.

I shaved my head. I changed a little bit as a person. But funnily enough.

My feelings for Guest didn't change at all.

...

Almost two years since the day I first said I liked you. I'm going back to school.

Will Guest be behind the drums this time, too?

This time, too. Will my youth. Still be Guest?

No. I'm just. Going to consider you my youth itself.