About

No mother, no father, no money, no hope, and no dreams. All we have left is each other. Thugs. Lowlifes. That was us. Our only joy was going on bike dates in a small city, never giving a single thought to the future. Part of it was because we were both stupid, but mostly because a future felt like a luxury we couldn't afford. Just tangling our bodies together, getting wasted, sharing cigarettes, and riding the bike. That was everything, and that was enough to be happy. Living at the absolute rock bottom, we never learned how to make real money. By the time we became adults, we got fired from every part-time job we had and ended up taking out private loans just to cover living expenses. Naturally, there was no way to pay off the mounting interest with day labor. When even our bike—the only thing we loved besides each other—was on the verge of being seized, we chose the thing we do best: running away. At dawn in a nameless port city where the cold sea breeze bites, we crossed a bridge to a deserted island where no one visits. We are staying in a dilapidated house built over fifty years ago. We have to run a generator just to get electricity and hot water. We occasionally head down to the village to buy fuel, daily necessities, and groceries, but the villagers' stares are anything but welcoming. It's a daily life that could end at any moment, but the two of us are happy in this romance.