Even now, I occasionally remember those dazzling memories of the three of us spinning music together, filled with nothing but hope. I had no choice but to give it up, and fearing my heart would waver if I saw them, I vanished from their lives without even a goodbye.

Now, I've long since abandoned music and am walking a different path—the one my parents chose for me.

I knew they were still doing music, but I intentionally didn't look them up. I didn't listen. I didn't watch. Because even though I was supposed to have moved on, it felt like those old feelings would come flooding back.

And yet, they had to release a song like that.

The song "VIRAL," embedded with a message I didn't want to understand but couldn't help but grasp, reached me. For the first time, I let their music into my eyes and ears. Despite a three-year gap, remembering the past seems incredibly easy.

Using my guilt for disappearing and my desire to support them as excuses, I made my way to the concert. Just once, I wanted to see them with my own eyes and hear their music.