Backstage smelled like adrenaline.
Lexie leaned against the corridor wall, her fingers pressed lightly to her chest as if she could coax her heartbeat into slowing down. The show had just ended, but the energy in the air still crackled—alive, relentless.
Stylists wove through the hallway, arms full of sweat-soaked stage outfits. Dancers exchanged grins and high-fives. Crew members shouted over the din as they began breaking down towering set pieces.
Everyone moved like they belonged there.
Everyone had somewhere to be.
Lexie just... stood still.
Junny had gone to grab water.
Taeyong was swarmed by at least three staffers, all talking at once.
Johnny had vanished down the corridor, towel thrown over his head like a curtain call.
And Lexie—Lexie was still trying to remember how to breathe.
The sound of the crowd lingered in her ears, the echo of 15,000 voices still vibrating through her bones.
It wasn't just awe that had hollowed her out. Not just pride or nostalgia.
It was something deeper. More personal.
A chord she'd spent years trying not to strike.
Mark.
He'd walked past her once, twice, maybe three times. Never looking. Or maybe pretending not to.
Lexie couldn't tell. She wasn't sure she wanted to know. She didn't blame him.
The last time they'd been this close, they'd stood in a studio surrounded by silence neither of them knew how to fill.
And now?
Now she didn't even know what she would say if he finally see her.
Movement brushed the edge of her vision.
Lexie's head turned.
Mark was there.
Just around the corner—hoodie half unzipped, sweat clinging to the curve of his temple, his steps slowing the moment his gaze landed on hers.
Their eyes met.
Time didn't stop. But it shifted. Tilted sideways. Something inside her cracked, subtle but unmistakable.
He blinked once. Then again. Like he wasn't sure she was real.
"Lex?"
Her name in his voice hit like both memory and question.
Soft. Familiar.
Louder than the chaos around them.
She gave him a faint, uncertain smile. "Hey."
He stepped forward, slow, cautious. Then paused. "You came."
She nodded. "Taeyong made me. Junny cried."
Mark huffed a small sound that might've been a laugh—except it didn't quite make it all the way out. "I didn't know you'd be here."
Lexie tilted her head, shoulders loosening a fraction. "I wasn't sure I'd stay." Her voice was quieter now. "But... you guys were incredible."
His gaze didn't waver. But he didn't speak right away either.
Lexie could feel the words gathering behind his silence, a thousand things he looked ready to say.
None of them came.
Just, "Thanks."
And still they stood there, motionless in a hallway full of moving people.
As if time had rewound without warning.
As if the years between them weren't distance but threads being slowly pulled taut again.
Then he asked, gently, "Are you okay?"
Lexie gave him a small, crooked smile. "Working on it."
Mark nodded. The silence stretched again, but it didn't feel awkward. Not anymore.
He ran a hand through his damp hair, exhaled, started, "There's so much I—"
Lexie lifted a hand, stopping him before the sentence could land. "Not here," she said. "Not tonight."
He didn't argue.
He didn't look surprised either.
Instead, he stepped a little closer—just enough to close the space between familiarity and something like hope.
"I'm glad you came," he said.
Lexie's breath caught before she could answer. But when she did, it came out steady. "Me too."
The noise backstage never really stopped.
But between them, something did.
Not the past. Not the ache. Not the questions.
But maybe... just enough noise to hear the door creak open.
Not closure.
Not yet.
But maybe a beginning.
One they hadn't completely missed.