JANUARY 15. MONDAY

SEOUL HIGH SCHOOL;11:24 A.M.

Amber isn't sure where the practice rooms are located. As she turns downt the hallway toward the orchestra room, Suzy passes her, walking i

n the same direction. Black hair as straight and silky as a doll's, falling all the way down to the middle of her back. Suzy opens the orchestra

room door, and notices that Amber follow her in, she frowned. "Why are you doing here? I don't remember you are included in either orchestra

or band." The way her talk to Amber isn't that pleasant.

"I'm changing the lightbulbs in the room," Amber replied sarcastically.

"You're such a strange person." Suzy comments.

"Yeah, not to forget, after changing the lightbulbs, I have to install a new carpet. Not only for the floor but also for the walls to dampen the sound. People over in art have been complaining about the violins."

Suzy makes a face, turns, and gets her violin case from the storage. Amber notices the dead-end corridor at the back of the room and,

guessing that the pratice rooms are there, she heads toward it. 

"Seriously, why are you here?" Suzy was obviously getting more annoyed.

"I signed up for a practice room."

"I saw your name on the sign-up list, but I thought it was a joke or your friends wrote  it to play prank on you. Well, It's unfair for you to get a practice room,"she scoffs," Mr Psy told me and Krystal that we are unable to use the room everyday because somebody else wanted one, too. I thought it was an orchestra person."

Amber stops, causes Suzy to bump into her.

"Why isn't it fair?" She asks.

"These rooms are for music." Suzy says while raising her brows.

Amber smirks, " Yeah.. well, Do you really think that your band and orchestra memebers are the only musicians in the world." saying it monotone.

Upon hearing it, Suzy storms her way into Room A with a slam of the door. Perfect girls think they own the world.

Amber walks into Room B and immediately wanted to shout the her lungs out of joys. Althought it's small, but still consider perfect. Blank

white walls,a workstation with a computer, an electronic keyboard, and a cool recording devices. Awesome, Seoul High School. And there's

the guitar - waiting just for her. 

Eagerly, she loses the door, moves the benches that are blocking her way to the side, lays the guitat case that is filled with dusts on the floor,

and opens it. Coughs Coughs Coughs. Amber sway her hands in a up and down motion to get rid of the dusts that are floating in the air. The

sight of the guitar cracks her face into a smile. She runs her fingertips slong two big scratches on the front. Four out of six strings are gone;

the remaining two are grummy and old. It's beat-up, but it doesn't matter - because it's a guitar.

Amber pulls a packet of guitar string that she had prepared earlier out of her backpack and start to restring. The minute the guitar is in her

hands, her body is pumped with energy. One by one, she changes the strings with care, not wanting to add more scratches to her

guitar. Then, she uses the keyboard at the workstation to find the right tune for each string, ignoring the muffled scales of Suzy's violin next

door. She play each string for the last check:

E  A  D  G  B  E

.P.E.R.F.E.C.T.

Sitting on the floor, she pulls her pick out of her back pocket and strums