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The long-awaited battle between Union and Eunjang exploded into chaos across the abandoned lot. Bodies collided with brutal force, fists flying, shouts echoing through the cold air. It was a warzone with no rules and no mercy.
Union held the upper hand from the start. They were seasoned delinquents who fought like they had nothing to lose. Eunjang, despite their unity, began to falter under the sheer weight of the assault.
And then, like a knife splitting through fabric, everything shifted when Geum Seongje suddenly stepped forward.
With one sharp movement and effortlessly precise, he intercepted a blow that had been aimed straight at an Hyuntak’s ribs. The impact snapped the Union's boy wrist sideways, the force redirecting harmlessly past its target.
Before anyone could process what happened, Seongje moved again. He slipped between bodies with the confidence of someone who always knew exactly where the fight would flow next, blocking hits that were meant to drop Eunjang kids to the ground. He evaded kicks, redirected punches and broke momentum with frightening ease.
For a heartbeat, the battlefield faltered.
Eunjang froze first. Someone actually stopped mid-swing, blinking in disbelief as Seongje planted himself between them and a Union strike.
It made no sense. He had always been Union’s golden boy, the one Union kids bragged about, the one they trusted to drag them out of fights they couldn’t win. Seeing him protect Eunjang was like watching water burn. It didn’t fit. He was supposed to be the enemy.
Meanwhile, the shock hit Union like a collective slap. Then came the angry, confused and betrayed shouting.
Their voices cracked with disbelief, and for once, not even Union’s infamous brutality masked their hesitation. They knew Seongje’s strength. They knew he wasn’t someone you wanted turning against you.
But Seongje didn’t react. He just kept moving, cutting through Union’s offenses like he was severing threads as his focus sharpened to a single, determined purpose.
His head turned again and again, scanning the chaos, breath short, jaw locked tight.
He wasn’t fighting for Eunjang.
He wasn’t fighting against Union.
He wasn’t fighting for any side at all.
He was searching as his eyes darting through the mess of bodies and broken ground with an urgency that stripped away the usual arrogance in his stance. Every blocked punch, every redirected kick, every brutal counter seemed almost thoughtless. It was a byproduct of instinct, not intention.
He was looking for someone.
Yeon Sieun.
His expression stayed unreadable, but his movements weren’t. His steps got sharper and faster. His shoulders tightened. His strikes grew more decisive, as if the longer Sieun stayed out of view, the more violent his body grew with fear he refused to show on his face.
Every second without Sieun’s figure appearing in the corner of his vision was a second something inside Seongje cracked.
And for the first time in the whole fight, even Union seemed unsure what scared them more. Seongje fighting for Eunjang or Seongje searching for someone with enough desperation to make him betray everything he’d ever stood with.
⸻
For months before the big war between Eunjang and Union, Seongje and Sieun existed in a space that had no definition but carried far too much weight. It was a quiet, hidden thread pulling them toward each other again and again, even when both knew it shouldn’t.
They slipped into that strange middle ground slowly, almost accidentally, as if fate kept shoving them into each other’s path until neither of them bothered trying to avoid it anymore. Not lovers. Not friends. Not even enemies. Something rawer, softer and infinitely more dangerous.
They met in places no one would think to look. In the shadowed back stairwell behind at Ganghak's empty classroom, in the overgrown corner of the park where the streetlamp had gone out months ago, in the quiet alleys between buildings where only stray cats roamed. Their meetings were always unplanned but always inevitable. One would walk past and the other would follow. A glance was all it took.
And each time, they pretended it was coincidence yet neither of them walked away.
They talked sometimes— about school, fights, trouble they shouldn’t be in, but even their conversations felt like they were tiptoeing on a line neither dared to cross. And when they weren’t talking, their closeness said everything for them.
A hand lingering on a wrist longer than necessary. Shoulders brushing and neither moving away. Fingers brushing in passing and neither pretending it was accidental. They touched like people who weren’t supposed to touch. Tentative at first, but growing bolder with every secret encounter.
A shove turning into a grip.
A grip turning into a pull.
A pull turning into breath warm against skin.
And when they parted, it always felt like something unfinished clung to the air between them.
They never said goodbye nor set another meeting. They never acknowledged the rhythm they had fallen into. Because if they did, it would become real and that terrified both of them in different ways.
Sieun, who always kept his life controlled, was the one who insisted on secrecy. He would tug Seongje into a shadowed corner, push him gently back when footsteps approached, whispering sharply, “Eunjang can’t know. And Union shouldn’t know either.”
Their situation was already volatile enough. Labels would have burned everything down. So Seongje never questioned it and never asked for more. He understood it without needing an explanation.
He, of all people, understood the issues that would raised if people know about them.
He was Union’s unpredictable wildcard, the one everyone warned others to stay away from. The one who could ruin reputations and lives simply by being seen beside someone. The one who came with rumors heavier than his punches.
He wasn’t someone Sieun was supposed to be near and never someone he should trust. Definitely not someone he should meet behind locked doors and dimly lit hallways.
So Seongje took what little he was given and made peace with it. He didn’t push, didn't ask where they stood and didn't demand anything he wasn’t allowed to have. Seongje always acted like none of it mattered as he kept showing up anyway.
Until one day, he didn’t.
It began slowly with Seongje ignoring a message here, leaving one unread there. The first time it happen, Sieun didn’t think much of it. The second time, he told himself not to care. The fifth time, he stopped reaching out altogether, because he realized he was waiting for something that had never been promised.
Seongje never explained. Never said goodbye. Never even said he wanted to stop. He simply drifted away with no warning, like the entire thing had been a temporary glitch in his life.
And Sieun, who never claimed they were anything, was forced to accept the quiet truth that whatever they had wasn’t stable and it wasn’t his to hold onto.
He told himself it was nothing. That they were never together. That they were never anything real. That he was foolish to expect consistency from someone no one trusted, someone everyone said was dangerous, someone he wasn’t supposed to care about in the first place.
He convinced himself it was over. Then he convinced himself it never started.
Since neither reached out again and neither crossed each other’s path in a way that wasn’t filtered through crowds or conflict, Sieun moved on with the quiet ache of someone who had tried not to want something in the first place, yet still lost it anyway.
⸻
Seongje kept swinging and kept sending fists, elbows and knees into anyone who got too close. It's not because he cared about the fight or because he’d suddenly “switched sides,” but because he was growing more frantic by the second. His eyes scanned every corner of the lot between blows. Eunjang kids whispered among themselves as they dodged hits and tried to regroup. They kept shooting glances at him like he was a monster who’d suddenly decided to protect them.
“Why the hell is he helping us?” one muttered, voice cracking with disbelief.
“Is this a trap?” another hissed, gripping their bleeding nose.
“Maybe he hates Union now? What is going on?”
But Seongje didn’t even hear them. His breathing was loud in his ears, heartbeat pounding like a drum against his ribs. He wasn’t thinking about alliances, or consequences, or the mess he was creating by turning on Union in the middle of a war. He only had one question looping like a curse under his skin: Where is Sieun? Where is he?
Union members, meanwhile, erupted with fury the moment he struck one of their own.
“Geum Seongje, have you lost your damn mind?!”
“Is he betraying us?!”
“Is he doing this on a whim like he always does?!”
The chaos was a blur: curses, fists, the sound of someone’s shoulder slamming into concrete. But Seongje pushed through bodies like a man possessed, shoving Union kids aside, throwing his arm up to block a metal pipe aimed at an Eunjang student just to get a better view across the lot. Each second he didn’t see Sieun made his pulse spike higher, his blows turning sharper, sloppier, more desperate.
And then he saw him.
At the far edge of the lot, partially hidden by broken fencing and shadows, a cluster of bodies circled someone slumped on the ground. A small shape, curled against the dirt.
They weren’t beating him, they were eliminating him.
Sieun was on his knees, arms weakly trying to block hits he couldn’t see coming. Blood dripped from his temple down to his jaw. His breathing was ragged, fogged with pain. And still they kept hitting him. Again. And again. And again.
Seongje didn’t remember crossing the space. One second he was staring, the next he was ripping someone off by the collar, sending them flying with a single enraged punch.
“Fucking move.”
His voice boomed across the lot like thunder. Half the Union kids flinched. The other half stepped back instinctively. There was something in his tone, cold and lethal, that even delinquents didn’t dare provoke.
The Union kids encircling Sieun flinched instinctively, taking involuntary steps back. Even those too brave or too stupid to retreat were immediately handled; Seongje’s lackeys, previously fighting alongside the Union kids, turned abruptly. Their loyalty was unmistakable. They grabbed the nearest attackers by their collars and slammed them into the dirt with the kind of force that cracked the ground beneath them.
A path opened and Seongje walked through it like a storm. Every step radiating fury so thick it felt suffocating.
When he reached Sieun, the world around him blurred. His knees hit the ground so hard he didn’t even register the pain. His breath hitched violently. For the first time in years, Seongje felt terror.
“Sieun, hey.” His voice came out strained, a hoarse whisper that barely resembled him. His hands hovered above Sieun’s trembling body, unsure and frantic. “Look at me.”
Sieun tried. He really tried. His eyelashes lifted just a fraction, revealing eyes clouded with pain, shock and exhaustion. But almost immediately, they fell again. His head lolled to the side, too heavy for him to hold up.
That single moment of Sieun not fighting, not resisting and not even holding his head steady was enough to flip a switch in Seongje’s mind, replacing fear with something feral. Something murderous. Something that promised he would tear every one of them apart.
Behind him, another Union kid tried to rush in, but one of Seongje’s lackeys intercepted, slamming the boy into the dirt so hard he didn’t get back up.
Seongje didn’t even blink as he cupped Sieun’s face with both hands, thumbs trembling with a desperation he had never let anyone see.
“Hey.” His voice was breaking. “Look at me. Look at me, please.”
Sieun’s eyelids fluttered. “I’m… fine…”
“No, you’re not.” The words snapped out, but his voice cracked in the middle, like a boy who could barely hold himself together.
He pulled Sieun forward, pressing their foreheads together, grounding him with touch alone. His breath shook against Sieun’s lips, uneven and terrified. Sieun sagged against him, barely conscious.
“Stay with me,” Seongje whispered, voice fraying at the edges, rawer than anything he’d ever allowed himself to feel. “…Stay with me, love. Please, stay.”
Seongje didn’t mean it as an order.
He meant it as a prayer.
Even through the haze, Sieun’s eyes flew open just a little. Confusion and disbelief flickered across his bruised face. He blinked, as if wondering if he imagined it.
“Did you— just—”
“Don’t talk.” Seongje’s voice broke again, strangled. His hand tightened on Sieun’s cheek, almost trembling. “Please don’t talk right now.”
“…Seongje…” Sieun whispered, eyes unfocused. “I’m so… tired.”
“No. Don’t.” Seongje shook his head, shutting his eyes tight for a second. “Don’t say that. Baby... please.” The word slipped out without permission, bare and devastating. “You have better endurance than me. You always do. Stay awake.”
Sieun’s trembling hand lifted sluggishly, fingers brushing Seongje’s grip. He managed to hold onto one wrist weakly. “End this,” he breathed out. “End this for once… please.”
Seongje swallowed hard, his breath shuddering. “If only you promise me that you’ll stay awake.”
Sieun nodded, barely, but enough for Seongje to hold onto. He slowly pulled back, eyes narrowing as fury flooding his expression until it didn’t look human anymore.
He jerked his chin at his lackeys, giving them a silent order to stay with him and protect him.
And when they stepped forward, forming a wall around Sieun’s shaking body, Seongje stood up as feral flooded his headspace.
At this point, there was no sides and no loyalties, only rage and the image of Sieun crumpled on the ground burned behind his eyes.
The lot fell silent for a split second, long enough for everyone to understand that Geum Seongje was going to kill every single person who laid a hand on Yeon Sieun.
The first boy didn’t even see the punch coming. A brutal single hit had sent him crumpling to the ground like his bones had dissolved. The second boy tried to block, hands shaking, but Seongje’s kick drove into his ribs hard enough that the sound echoed.
Two down.
Then three.
Then four.
Each one dropped like flies, bodies hitting the ground in sharp, heavy thuds. It didn’t matter if they begged, backed away or tried to strike first, Seongje tore through them like a storm that couldn’t hear anything except the memory of Sieun’s voice saying I’m so tired, Seongje.
Then he turned his head toward Seongmok and Dongha. Baekjin’s most loyal lackeys. The ones who always carried out the dirtiest orders. The ones who would stop him from reaching Baekjin.
They froze but Seongje didn’t. He lunged at them instead.
Seongmok swung first, desperate, but Seongje dodged so cleanly it looked rehearsed. Seongje’s fist cracked against Seongmok’s jaw, dropping him instantly. Dongha tried to grab his arm, maybe to buy a second but Seongje twisted, elbowed him in the gut hard enough to empty his lungs, then slammed his fist into the side of Dongha’s head.
Both hit the ground but he didn’t spare them a look because he was already walking toward the one person who mattered next.
Na Baekjin.
Baekjin stepped forward, furious but steady, wiping blood from his lip. “So it’s like this, huh? You’re choosing Yeon Sieun over Union?” His voice was sharp, but his eyes flickered with an instinctive, involuntary fear at the way Seongje didn’t answer.
Everyone instinctively drew back. The space around the two of them widened like a ring forming for a match no one wanted to be caught in.
Baekjin swung first, he always did. He moved with precision, speed and the skill that made him Union’s pillar. He landed blows that would’ve staggered anyone else. His punches connected, his kicks forced Seongje back half a step.
But Seongje didn’t feel them. Not when Sieun had been on the ground bleeding.
Every strike Baekjin landed only made Seongje hit harder. His vision had narrowed to pure instinct and pure rage. He wasn’t fighting Baekjin, he was punishing him. For every bruise on Sieun’s body. For every hit Sieun took alone, fighting for his school's dignity.
Baekjin’s breath grew ragged. Panic seeped into his movements. He punched but Seongje caught his wrist, twisted and slammed his fist into Baekjin’s ribs hard enough that everyone heard the crunch. Baekjin dropped to one knee but Seongje didn’t stop. The final punch which was a vicious, devastating swing, connected with Baekjin’s jaw and sent him flying backwards.
He hit the ground and didn’t get up.
Both Union and Eunjang froze. Even Seongje’s own lackeys stared in shock.
Na Baekjin, Union’s leader, had fallen. Defeated.
But before Eunjang could cheer and Union could process the blow to their pride, Seongje turned around and his entire body locked because Sieun was walking toward him.
His steps were shaky, barely coordinated, like his legs were giving out every second but he forced them forward anyway. His hand was pressed weakly to his side. Blood streaked down one temple and his face was pale.
Seongje’s chest constricted so painfully he gasped. “Shit, Yeon Sieun!”
He sprinted. All the rage evaporated in an instant, replaced by absolute horror. He reached Sieun just as Sieun’s knees buckled.
“I got you, Sieuni, I got you.”
Seongje grabbed his shoulders, arms wrapping around him just in time. Sieun’s weight collapsed against him completely, like his body had been holding itself up purely out of stubbornness until the moment it touched Seongje.
Seongje’s entire body went cold. “No, no, no— Sieun— hey— HEY—” His arms tightened around him, hands trembling so violently he could barely hold on.
The whole lot watched in stunned silence as the most dangerous delinquent they knew fell to his knees, cradling Sieun like something fragile he’d never forgive himself for breaking.
And in that moment, with Sieun unconscious in his arms, there was no Union, no Eunjang, no fight. Only a boy who realized too late how much he loved someone.
⸻
The hospital room was quiet, almost unnaturally so, the antiseptic scent heavy in the air. Machines beeped steadily, the low hum of the ventilation system the only other sound. Sunlight spilled in through the blinds, casting pale lines across the white sheets, but Seongje barely noticed.
He sat rigidly in the chair beside the bed, jaw tight, fists pressed to his knees, eyes bloodshot and sharp from lack of sleep and too much worry. He hadn’t left since Sieun was admitted. He hadn’t eaten, hadn’t shifted, hadn’t allowed himself a single moment of relief. Every breath and every blink was tuned to Sieun’s faint movements, the rise and fall of his chest, the shallow rhythm of his breathing.
When Sieun’s eyes finally opened, groggy and unfocused, the first thing he did wasn’t groan about his pain or asked about the fight. It was a question that made Seongje stiffen completely.
“Did you… really call me ‘love’ and ‘baby,’ or was I hallucinating?”
Seongje blinked, caught off guard by the question. He let out a scoff, trying to mask the way his stomach flipped. The audacity of Sieun asking something like that at a moment like this made him simultaneously frustrated and helpless.
“You… almost died,” he said finally, rolling his eyes in exasperation, though the motion couldn’t hide the rapid beat of his heart. “And that’s your first question to me after waking up?”
Sieun let out a weak, teasing smile despite the pale bruises and exhaustion, and it made Seongje’s chest tighten painfully. “You left me,” Sieun said, voice hoarse but laced with the faintest humor. “So let me have my moments.”
Seongje’s breath hitched. The words cut deeper than any punch or any fight. “…I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice small and broken in a way Sieun had never heard before.
And then, the dam broke. The words he’d been holding back for months tumbled out in a rush, jagged and raw. “I was distancing myself,” he admitted, eyes fixed on his lap, voice quiet. “Because I thought it was best… for us. Especially with how Union kept pestering Baku and knowing how close you are to him, I thought staying away was the only way to keep you safe.”
Sieun’s hand, still trembling slightly from weakness, lifted to rest lightly on Seongje’s arm. “It’s okay,” he said softly, a small, understanding smile tugging at his lips. “We weren’t anything official anyway. It’s… understandable.”
Seongje exhaled, a long, shuddering sigh that seemed to release months of tension in a single breath. “…When I heard Baku challenged Baekjin to make Union fight Eunjang,” he continued, voice catching, “I knew Baekjin would aim for you. You’re Baku’s pillar. You’re the reason he decided to fight for Eunjang, to make sure the kids wasn’t living in terror anymore. And I… I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”
The words were heavy, and the room went silent for a long moment. Machines beeped steadily, but it was almost as if time itself had paused. Sieun’s hand remained on Seongje’s arm, tightening slightly, a silent reassurance that he was still here, alive.
Seongje’s voice dropped further, softening in a way reserved only for moments like this. “…I’m sorry I’m late,” he whispered, pushing his hair back as though trying to physically clear away all the chaos and guilt clinging to him. “And… I’m sorry for leaving you just like that. For disappearing without saying anything…”
Sieun’s weak hand squeezed his arm, offering reassurance that went deeper than words. “It’s okay,” he repeated gently, voice soft but steady. “We made it through. I know you were trying to protect me, even if it didn’t feel like it at the time.”
Seongje’s gaze lifted slowly to meet Sieun’s. There was a flicker of vulnerability there, an edge of raw honesty he rarely allowed anyone to see.
The silence stretched, but this time it was comfortable and gentle. Sieun’s hand moved slightly, playing with Seongje’s fingers. “Should we… try properly this time?” he asked softly. “Since there's no Union and Eunjang war?”
Seongje’s gaze softened and a tiny, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His voice was low, rough, yet steady with a rare certainty. “Yeah,” he murmured, thumb brushing along Sieun’s knuckles. “We can. Whatever you want, love. Whatever you want.”
⸻
The afternoon sun hit hard against the school gates, painting long shadows across the courtyard as students poured out in clusters — laughing, complaining, stretching after a long day. Sieun walked with his usual quiet steps, one hand hooked on the strap of his backpack, eyes half-lidded with lingering fatigue from the hospital stay. But then, cutting through all the noise, came a low, familiar rumble. The kind of sound that made heads turn instinctively.
A black bike rolled through the entrance like it owned the whole district.
Conversations died mid-sentence. Even the rowdiest first-years stopped shoving each other. The bike glided to a stop with effortless control, the engine purring before settling into silence. Students gathered near the gates stared like they were watching an illegal crossover episode.
Geum Seongje took off his helmet ans everyone froze.
His maroon Ganghak uniform looked criminally perfect—jacket hanging open, tie loose, sleeves pushed up just enough to show the veins on his forearms. His hair was a little messy, wind-swept in a way that made him look like trouble incarnate. One hand rested lazily on the handlebar, posture loose and confident, as if he hadn’t almost committed mass murder a week ago defending people he wasn’t even supposed to care about.
For a moment, with the sun hitting him just right, he looked every bit the arrogant delinquent boyfriend out of a drama.
And then he let out a wide, stupid and lovesick grin.
“There you are, love,” he called out, loudly, far too loudly for the number of witnesses. “Missed me?”
Sieun stopped walking. Hyuntak choked on spit. Juntae made a sound that wasn’t human. Someone dropped their iced coffee. A group of juniors ducked behind a vending machine like the scene was too dangerous to watch directly.
Sieun closed his eyes, face heating, and muttered under his breath, “Shut up.”
“No,” Seongje said sweetly, leaning forward, elbows resting on the bike as if he were posing. “I didn’t see you for eight hours, baby. That’s suffering.”
The nickname echoed through the courtyard like someone detonated a gossip bomb.
Sieun’s ears turned bright red, his cheeks dusted pink, and judging by the way Seongje’s grin stretched almost painfully wide, he saw every single reaction.
Eunjang kids erupted into whispers, increasingly hysterical.
“Did he just—??”
“BABY??”
“GEUM SEONGJE AND YEON SIEUN??”
“NO, LIKE—BABY?!”
“THIS IS AGAINST THE LAWS OF PHYSICS—”
Before Sieun could even breathe, Hyuntak and Juntae were on him like two panicked guard dogs.
“Sieun!” Hyuntak grabbed his shoulders dramatically, dragging him a few steps back from the bike. “Is Seongje bothering you?? Just tell me! I’ll kick him if he’s messing with you!”
Juntae smacked Sieun’s arm repeatedly, scandalized. “Why didn’t you tell us you were— you were—” He gestured vaguely at Seongje. “—DEALING WITH THAT?”
Hyuntak cupped Sieun’s cheeks, squishing them until Sieun’s lips puckered. “He’s literally the reason you ended up in the hospital!”
“He is not,” Sieun protested, albeit muffled due to Hyuntak’s hands on his face.
“He basically is!” Hyuntak snapped. “He’s Union’s mad dog!”
Seongje, observing the chaos, only smiled with his eyes crinkling in amusement, posture relaxed. He didn’t defend himself and didn't even threaten back. He simply watched them fuss over Sieun with this painfully soft expression that didn’t match his reputation at all.
And then Baku appeared.
He walked straight toward Seongje, grabbed a fistful of his collar and yanked him down until their faces were only inches apart. The tension snapped so sharp the entire courtyard collectively stopped breathing.
“If you ever make him frown,” Baku said, voice low and deadly calm, “I’ll break your jaw. I don’t care if Union worships you. I don’t care that everyone thinks you’re untouchable. If you hurt Sieun, I’ll feed you to the dogs.”
Silence.
But Seongje didn’t even smirk. He just stared back sincerely and smiled softly. Almost gratefully.
“I know,” he murmured. “I won’t hurt him.”
Baku held him there a moment longer, eyes narrowing, testing if he meant it. Then he shoved him back, making Seongje stumble against the bike.
Sieun, who should’ve been horrified, only chuckled, delighted by the scene.
Hyuntak stared at him. “You’re enjoying this.”
“I’m not,” Sieun lied so badly making Juntae and Hyuntak roll their eyes.
Seongje got off the bike like he hadn’t just been threatened by Eunjang's leader. He walked straight to Sieun and, with zero hesitation, took Sieun’s backpack from his shoulder. His fingers brushed against the faint bruise on Sieun’s collarbone, gentle and possessive in the way he tried so hard to hide.
“Ready to go to cram school, baby?” Seongje asked, voice practically glowing with satisfaction when Sieun whipped around with an immediate scowl.
“Stop calling me that in front of everyone,” Sieun hissed.
“Then I’ll call you love instead.”
“GEUM. FUCKING. SEONGJE.”
“Or sweetheart. Angel. Darling—”
Sieun shoved him hard making Seongje laughed. It was not his usual cocky snort or mocking chuckle. This was loud, bright and completely unrestrained. A laugh that revealed how stupidly, helplessly in love he was, the way he would’ve never let himself show before everything that happened.
He pulled Sieun a little closer as he placed the spare helmet on Sieun’s head. The padding squished Sieun’s cheeks, making him look unfairly adorable. Seongje looked like he’d been handed the entire world when he saw it.
As Sieun climbed onto the bike, arms sliding around Seongje’s waist, Eunjang exploded into chaotic scene again but neither of them cared.
Maybe choosing to date publicly with nothing to hide, no more ducking behind corners and no more pretending that they hated each other was the best decision they’d ever made.
“Hold on tight, love,” Seongje murmured, adjusting Sieun’s hands so they sat snugly against his abdomen.
Sieun pressed his forehead against Seongje’s back, the visor hiding the smile he couldn’t fight anymore.
“…Just drive.”
And with one smooth twist of the throttle, they left the chaos behind together.