The final beat of their debut song echoed through the hall, followed by a single burst of applause that sounded too small for the space it filled.
Kael froze in his ending pose, chest heaving, sweat trickling down his temple beneath the glaring lights. The music faded. The silence that followed stretched on like an open wound.
He risked a glance beyond the blinding stage lights. The audience was… barely there. A few rows of scattered fans, some holding hastily made banners, others tapping distractedly on their phones. The rest of the seats gaped like empty mouths.
His heart sank, but his face didn't show it. He was the leader. Leaders didn't break on stage.
"Thank you," Kael said into the mic, bowing deeply. His voice rang with fake strength, the way he'd practiced a thousand times. Behind him, the other members echoed his words, their bows synchronized.
The host's cheerful voice tried to fill the hollow room. "What an amazing debut performance from LUMINA! Give them a big round of applause!"
The applause came, scattered and thin.
Kael straightened, smiling for the cameras that lined the front. Cameras didn't care about empty seats. They cared about perfect idols, perfect expressions. He gave them that—chin up, shoulders back, eyes burning with determination he didn't feel.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Klan. The omega's gray-blue eyes shimmered under the lights, his lips pressed tight as if holding back something—tears or frustration, Kael couldn't tell.
When the host signaled for them to exit the stage, Kael led the way, every step echoing on the polished floor. The moment the curtains fell behind them, silence hit like a punch.
Eren broke it first, tossing his mic onto the couch in the waiting room. "What the hell was that?!" His voice dripped with bitterness. "Thirty people? Maybe forty? That's all?"
Sion scoffed, running a hand through his white-blond hair. "What did you expect? We're nobodies from a no-name company."
"Don't say that," Tavi murmured softly, but even his usually bright voice lacked energy. He sank into the couch, hugging a pillow to his chest.
Kael ignored them all for a moment, turning to Klan. The omega stood frozen near the corner, head bowed, hands clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.
"Klan," Kael said quietly.
The younger boy lifted his head, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm fine."
Kael stared at him, reading the lie in every line of his face. But before he could say anything, their manager stormed in, phone in hand.
"Good job, everyone," the manager said, though the tension in his jaw said otherwise. "The live stream peaked at 4,000 viewers. That's… not great, but it's something. Pack up—we have a fan sign in an hour."
Eren groaned. "A fan sign? For what fans?"
"Eren." Kael's voice snapped like a whip, silencing the rapper. "We go. We smile. We thank them. Got it?"
The others muttered half-hearted agreements. Kael waited until they all filed out before turning back to Klan.
The omega hadn't moved. His hands were still shaking.
Kael stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Don't do that in front of them."
Klan blinked up at him. "Do what?"
"Break." Kael's eyes locked on his, amber burning into gray-blue. "Not here. Not yet."
Klan swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. "I… I just thought—after all these years—it would feel different." His voice cracked, so soft Kael almost didn't hear it. "That someone would care."
Kael didn't think. He just reached out, curling his hand around Klan's wrist—firm, grounding.
"They will," Kael said. His voice was low, steady, a promise wrapped in steel. "We'll make them care."
Klan stared at him, something fragile flickering behind his eyes. For a moment, it was just them, the weight of the world pressing in, but Kael's grip was warm, unshakable.
Then the manager called from the hallway, breaking the spell. Kael let go first, jaw tight.
"Come on," he said, already walking away. "Time to meet the fans we do have."
Klan stood frozen for a heartbeat longer before following, his heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the stage.