CHAPTER 3 : STRIPPED OF HOPE

Seimei's fingers moved with practiced precision over the strings of his guitar, the melody of his song "Happy" resonating softly through the dimly lit bar. His face was a mask of sorrow, the contrast between the song's title and his expression stark and poignant. The patrons of HOPE sat in an unusual silence, captivated by the melancholy notes that filled the room.

As the final chord faded, Seimei opened his eyes and looked out at the audience. "Thank you for listening," he said quietly. "I hope you liked it."

For a moment, there was a hushed stillness, as if the room held its breath. Then, from somewhere in the crowd, a tomato flew through the air and struck Seimei on the head. The red splatter contrasted sharply with his orange jersey, and laughter erupted from the audience.

"Boo! You call that a song?" someone shouted, followed by more jeers and tomatoes flying in his direction. Seimei stood frozen, his heart sinking as the barrage of insults and produce continued.

The owner of the bar, a burly man named Takeshi, pushed through the crowd, his face twisted with anger. "Since the crowd didn't like your song, you're not getting paid," Takeshi snarled. "Now get the fuck out of here before you ruin my bar's reputation."

Seimei's shoulders slumped as he carefully placed his guitar back in its case. He didn't argue or protest; he simply walked out of the bar, his expression devoid of emotion, his eyes hollow. The night's humiliation clung to him like a shroud as he trudged through the neon-lit streets of Tokyo.

As he walked, the vibrant energy of the city seemed to mock his desolation. People hurried past him, their laughter and chatter a sharp contrast to his inner turmoil. He felt like a ghost, drifting through a world that no longer cared for him.

Lost in his thoughts, Seimei barely noticed the girl until she stepped directly into his path. She wore aesthetic punk clothing: a black tank top with studded straps, ripped black jeans, and heavy boots. Multiple piercings adorned her ears, and her black hair was streaked with vibrant colors. Her eyes, however, were gentle and curious.

"Hey," she said, her voice cutting through the fog of his mind. "I really love your song 'Happy.'"

Seimei blinked, staring at her in confusion. "What?" he managed to utter, his voice barely above a whisper.

The girl smiled and reached out, taking his hand in hers. "Let's go have a drink," she said, her tone light and carefree. Before Seimei could respond, she tugged on his orange jersey, leading him away from the street and into the maze of alleyways.

END OF CHAPTER 3