It's the early hours of the morning, not a single car on the road.
A bus stop at the foot of Namsan.
The light turns red, but there isn't the slightest intention of hitting the brakes.
As soon as we blow through the signal, the girl on the back grips my waist tight enough to break it.
She lets out a manic, breathless laugh.
Only the roar of the Akrapovič exhaust slams past the traffic light.
Kim Hayul
Are you freaking suicidal? LOL.
She thumps her helmeted head against Guest's back and points a finger.