“Honey, I’m home!” I just oh-so happened to yell throughout my shared apartment and it just oh-so happened to be three o’clock in the morning. Taking off my shoes I hear a thud and a grumble, making me chuckle like a madwoman. I woke up someone from their beauty sleep, but oh well, she deserves it plus more. Before you think I’m just your average d-bag, let me explain: I’m still a little mad at my best-not-so-much-at-the-moment-friend, Que-Min, okay? Last night she broke my only phone charger preventing me from using my phone, which is basically my lifeline. I use my phone as an alarm clock because it’s 2014 and that’s just what people do nowadays; but the agreement was last night was that she was supposed to wake me up in time for work, but the lazy jackass couldn’t do that. She, herself, had to be up an hour before I did, but apparently it was too much to actually remember to set an alarm for me. I would have missed my entire schedule today if it wasn’t for my bladder telling me it desired to be emptied. So thanks to Que-Min, I was an hour late to work.

“You’re gonna wake the neighbors yelling like that, you cow,” said culprit croaked out, stepping away from her bedroom door. Sleep was still heavy and evident in her features as she slugged over to where I was by the front door, leaning against the wall.

I shrugged my shoulders and threw my shoes to the side of the mat and stepped into the apartment. “ for them, I suppose,” was my reply.

She grumbled again and scratched her head. “And for me, too.” I grinned at her pouting face. Que-Min was just a few months older than me and she’s really lazy and not very reliable, but we’ve been good friends since we were little and I wouldn’t change her for anything. She’s a rather short girl— shorter than me, which is saying something; but she has a cute face and an enormous attitude to make up for it. Despite her being childish and not very mature, she has a good heart and has always been a great friend to me. I guess that also makes up for her poor performance skills.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not the most mature woman out there, but I still have just bit more maturity than Dumbo my friend. I tossed my bag onto the countertop in the kitchen and sighed, turning to face Que-Min. I cocked an eyebrow when I noticed she was still leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. I swear that girl would fall asleep there if I didn’t do anything about it. So I did do something about it.

“You know,” I started rather loudly, making Que-Min jump a bit. I felt almost felt bad for startling her like that. Almost. “I nearly got fired today.”

My brunette best friend smiled cheaply and made her way over to one of the kitchen chairs, placing herself in it and her head on the table. She looked up at me, brown eyes wide and a pout on her lips. “I’m sorry; I didn’t even hear my own alarm going off.”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. I honestly don’t understand how the girl could be so tired all the time. She works in a library for about six hours and that’s it, and I’m surprised she works that much; she hates working. If it wasn’t for her rich mommy and daddy giving her money each month, we wouldn’t have this nice apartment to live in because it’s far too expensive for me to afford with my crappy pay. And I work at a pet store, which pays a little bit better than working in a library.

“It’s fine, it was just my first warning anyway,” I replied, taking a drink of my water. But in reality, it wasn’t fine. Even if it was my first warning, a warning is a warning and I’d rather not have anything on my record at work. I really enjoy my job and I would love to keep it. Plus, having a bad attendance record in your job experience doesn’t look too cute when looking for a more serious career; or any job for that matter really.

“Your first warning and they threatened to fire you?”

I glanced over at the sleepy brunette and nodded my head. “Yeah, my boss is kinda strict about stuff like that.”

Que-Min cracked a smile. “Mine doesn’t really care when I show up, as long as I eventually come in.”

I chuckled and started to walk out of the kitchen, “That’s because you’re job is boring and hardly anybody shows up.” I swatted the back of her head, receiving an ‘hey!’ from her as I said, “C’mon, go to bed; it’s late and I’m tired, too.”

“You’re the -face that woke me up, you know,” she mumbled, getting up from the chair and following me down the small hallway to our rooms.

“Because you made me late for work, stupid,” but before she could reply, I shut the door to my room cutting off whatever remark she had to say back to me. I heard her mutter something under her breath before I heard the soft sound of her door shutting, making me sigh as well. Can’t live with her but I can’t live without her. We have a love-hate friendship if you haven’t noticed yet.

I tossed my now-empty bottle of what used to be water across my room, not really caring about where it landed and started to peel away my day-old clothes. A shower sounded nice, but it is far too late and I’m far too tired for one at the moment. I’ll take one in the morning. I don’t have to work tomorrow nor do I have classes since it’s a Wednesday, which is fantastic. I don’t really feel like going to them either.

I take night classes at a local college so I can eventually become a veterinarian. Luckily though, between juggling my job and my best friend, I only have classes on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays; so I’m thankful that I’m not overloaded with a lot of schoolwork as well.

I honestly wouldn’t even be going to these night classes if it wasn’t for my father. Dad helps me pay for them since I’m not the richest person on planet Earth. Though, neither is he, but I don’t want to ask my mom for help because she has her hands full with my younger brother, Jinyung. And plus both of my parents are still paying off their divorce, especially Mom.

I guess it wouldn’t be bad if I gave you guys a little background information on me, as cliché as it is. Well, name’s Kim _______ and I’m 21 years old. I was born and raised in South Korea, but my family and I moved to England when I was eight. Though things soon turned south years down the road; Mom and Dad split when I was fifteen and Jinyung was six, but the divorce was never finalized until a few years ago. Why? I’m not sure and quite frankly I don’t care. I love both of my parents, but they’re better off apart rather than stuck under a roof together.

But anyway, Mom wanted to stay in England while Dad wanted to return to Korea. They let me choose who I wanted to live with since I was fifteen and no longer a small child; I chose to live with Dad. I have nothing against my mother; I just have a better relationship with my dad. Mom didn’t mind but she was a little upset even if she never admitted it, and since Jinyung was only six, Mom and Dad agreed to let him stay with Mom. I haven’t seen my little brother since last year when I visited Mom and I’d like to keep it that way. You see, my brother and I really don’t see eye to eye; we’ve never got along, and I’m okay with that oddly enough. He’s a spoiled brat who I’d love to hang by their toe and tie him to London’s Eye.

Heh. I’m not that cruel; yes I am.

I bet he’d hate heights after that, though.

Shaking my head of my own musings, I jumped in my bed, grabbed my laptop and turned it on. I wanted to check the latest news going on in Seoul; apparently there’s been a lot of gang violence lately, go figure. As far as I can remember this place has been littered with these stupid gangs. I honestly didn’t see the point of any of it, or them. Just stupid people fighting other stupid people over stupid things . . . Was that good grammar or am I just babbling here?

Oh, well.

The screen finally loaded and I clicked open my Chrome app, quickly directly myself to the news page. I wasn’t really shocked to see that three bodies were found dead in some drain. Sure I felt bad, but stuff like this happened every other week, as sad as that is.

Though, I will say that this is the most bodies found in a while, at once, at least; usually there’s one person found, occasionally two. Regardless, I feel sorry for their families. The authorities suspect gang violence was involved—where ever would they get that idea?—but nothing’s being proven because they don’t have enough evidence. I scoffed for what felt like the millionth time that night. Anyone with a brain would tell you those guys were involved with a gang, screwed them over somehow and ended up dead because of it. I scrolled down to the bottom of the page to check out some of the comments left by people. Some of the comments read:

‘Suspect it was gang violence’, who are they kidding?! Of course it was gang violence!

Yeah, I agree with the lady below me. Seoul is crawling with gangs and it’s been that way for a decade now.

I honestly think it was that one gang, the ones who are ‘top dog’ now apparently.

Who’s that?

Is their name Top Dog?

No, that’s not it.

Their name is longer than that, I think.

Who cares? Criminals are criminals regardless of what name you put on them. They all need to be locked up!

I can’t remember their name, but they’re some people I wouldn’t wanna mess with.

I rolled my eyes at that last comment I read. Those lame- gang members think they’re cute waving their guns around and spitting curse words like crazy. They piss me off more than anything; especially when they go around marking places with their symbols. Yeah, we get it. You’re around and this is your “area”, but you don’t need to spray paint the front of my favorite shoe store to prove anything.

Okay, okay, maybe I’m a bit biased but it was my favorite shoe store . . . until they moved away in fear of the gang that marked that area. Biased or not, they don’t need to be doing crap like that. At least put up a poster or a sticker, yeah? That’d be way easier than using spray paint; it takes way longer and you could get caught by the cops before you could even finish the sign, whereas stickers and posters only take a few seconds. Someone needs to tell those gangsta-wannabes how’da do it. They should learn from me. Okay, maybe not me because I don’t want them to know my name. Maybe I should use a pseudo name? Something fancy and uncommon, but with edge to it.

Those poor men. They really should be careful with who they mess with.

They deserved it, shouldn’t get caught up in gangs.

I think the name everyone’s talking about it Block B.

My eyebrows rose slightly. Block B, huh? I’ve heard of them before. Actually, I think they’re the ones who spray painted the shoe store I like so much—bastards; they’ve been on the news several times as well. I kept on reading:

Block B? The name for that gang? Doesn’t sound like much.

Oh! I’ve seen them! They don’t look like much, but they’re ruthless.

I know a guy who knows a member of that gang, and another gang too.

I could take on any of those cowards! They’re only a bunch of kids who think they’re all that because they have guns!

The police know who did it and who all was involved, but they’re too scared for their own skins to say exactly who it was.

We all know who killed those guys.

I sighed and turned my laptop off, setting it beside my bed on the floor. It was late as it was and I wanted sleep; no need to stay up any later reading about some stupid guys killing other stupid guys. Ah, there I go again with my possible bad use of grammar.

I didn’t really care much for the gangs in Seoul; as long as I stayed away from them, they would continue to stay away from me. And with that comfort in mind, I finally decided to go to sleep.