*
The staff moved with fluid precision, guiding the boys toward the styling stations. Each member was assigned a stylist, tools and fabrics at the ready. The atmosphere was calm but charged with the weight of expectation.
Lys followed slowly, eyes flicking to Alexia as she oversaw the process. She moved among her team like a conductor guiding an orchestra—every gesture sharp, confident, and controlled. Even from a distance, her presence drew his gaze, magnetic and impossible to ignore.
He leaned slightly toward Classic, whispering just loud enough for him to hear, "I wonder… does she notice when someone's watching her this closely?"
Classic snorted defeated by his cunning face . "Honestly… I think your behavior is more noticeable than hers right now. Everyone's staring at you, not her."
Frey, trying to focus on his own styling, muttered under his breath, "He's hopeless… and lucky she hasn't snapped at him yet."
Lys just grinned, eyes sharp, leaning back slightly in his chair. "Lucky? Or maybe she enjoys watching someone who isn't afraid to notice her."
Classic groaned, rubbing his temples. "Don't encourage yourself. You're already embarrassing the rest of us like Rei did."
Just then, the main hairstylist approached, color palette in hand. After a quick discussion with their assigned assistants, the stylist turned to Lys.
"So… what are we doing with you?"
Lys asked nonchalantly, shrugging. "I don't want to change my hair too much."
The stylist smiled reassuringly. "Your hair color is perfect. We just need a little cut and some styling to maintain health and shape. Nothing drastic."
Lys blinked, momentarily stunned by the straightforward reply feeling drowsy. "…Huh. That's it?"
"Exactly," the stylist confirmed, then moved on to the others.
One by one, the members were led to separate stations, each undergoing a full transformation—not just hair, but a complete makeover. Skin treatments, wardrobe fittings, grooming sessions, and image adjustments followed in precise succession.
At each phase, the boys couldn't help but gape at the changes. Frey's stylist staff eyes widened as they saw him completely yapping while he remained shy. Lys slept comfy while stylist are looked at his wide opened abs, planning to do something. Classic ran his fingers through his freshly styled hair, unable to see yet hide a grin at how clean and refined it. Other staffs jaw dropped when they saw Rei in the tailored outfits, perfectly fitting and highlighting his frame and Lys who just waked up after a long styling session.
Rei was the first to step out from the styling station.
His deep blue hair, tousled with layered bangs that swept softly to the side, carried a wet, textured look that framed his face perfectly. The shade brought out the clarity of his soft gray eyes, which now seemed to shimmer faintly under the light. His skin looked luminous, smoothed and refined, with a gentle glow that gave him an almost royal presence. A soft contour defined his features, and the subtle gloss on his lips added a polished finish.
He wore a tailored modern outfit—an ash-gray suit jacket cut slim at the waist, layered over a navy silk shirt left slightly unbuttoned, paired with fitted trousers and sleek black boots. The look was elegant yet effortless, the kind of styling that demanded attention without screaming for it.
Rei stopped before the mirror, his breath catching. His eyes widened, as though he didn't quite recognize the person staring back.
"Is… is this really me?" he murmured, captivated by his own reflection.
Alexia's tone was direct, leaving no room for doubt. "Yes. This is the original you."
Her words hit him harder than the mirror itself. For a moment, Rei was speechless. Then, still gazing at his reflection, he asked, almost shyly, "What do you think? How do I look?"
Alexia gave him a calm, decisive glance. "It's good."
Then she shifted her eyes toward the next station, her voice steady. "Next."
Frey came through the door. His boots struck the polished floor with sharp echoes, each step steady though his fingers twitched with restrained tension. Rei, already dressed in his new look, gaped openly — until Alexia calmly reached up and closed his mouth with her hand.
The mirror waited ahead, tall and merciless.
Frey stopped.
And then he saw himself.
For a heartbeat, he didn't move. The man staring back was a stranger — and yet… not. His once soft, unremarkable features had sharpened into something dangerously elegant. His face carried angles now, chiseled and refined, like stone kissed by shadows.
His hair, once dull and lifeless, had become a cascade of crimson silk, tousled in waves that fell with deliberate chaos. Under the low lights it shimmered like fire, strands slipping across his brow as though they had always belonged there.
But his eyes—those were the most jarring. No longer tired. No longer gentle. They burned with a smoldering red, lined faintly with kohl that made them seem endless, ancient. They stared back at him with quiet power, unblinking, unyielding.
His skin was pale and luminous, smooth as porcelain yet alive with a subtle flush at the cheekbones, a vein at the neck betraying his pulse. His lips -darker, fuller, tilted just shy of a smirk - looked as if they held secrets he hadn't yet told.
The rest of him was no less striking. A sleek black coat draped across his frame like a crown's claim, sharp lines and weighty fabric whispering authority. The collar was raised, buttons gleaming like deliberate punctuation. Not just clothing - it was a statement.
He looked unforgettable.
A shaky laugh, or maybe just breath, escaped him. The corner of his lips tugged upward. "So this is me now…"
Alexia gave a simple nod.
For the first time in years, he didn't look away from the mirror. Instead, he turned — and his eyes locked with Rei's. For a second, both froze, their gazes tracing each other from head to toe, struck speechless. The air between them pulsed with unspoken awe.
Finally, Frey broke the silence. "Well? What do you think?"
Alexia's reply came swift. "Next."
The word hit like a stone dropped in still water, leaving both men staring at her in stunned silence.
Frey met his reflection again — and this time, he didn't flinch.
The doors to the styling station swooshed open with theatrical flair.
Silence followed.
All eyes—Rei's sharp and calculating, Frey's wide and curious, Alexia's cool and analytical—snapped to the figure stepping in.
And there he was.
Classic. Inevitable.
The transformation was undeniable. Gone was the boy-next-door; standing before them was a vision carved out of midnight and ambition. Jet-black hair fell in deliberate disarray, framing a sculpted face made for magazine covers and billboard lights. His smoky eyes carried a glint—pride, maybe, or the thrill of finally arriving.
His outfit was audacity wrapped in precision: a black crop top that bared just enough of a chiseled torso to stir the air, layered under a sleek, oversized blazer. A silver cross pendant swung with his steps, catching the light—his light. Every detail, every shadow, every line screamed one truth: he was the main visual.
Rei tilted his head, unreadable yet intrigued. Frey let out a low whistle, leaning forward as if to test if this wasn't some illusion.
Alexia's lips curved into a smirk. She hadn't expected this level of boldness. "It's good.'' He got stunned by her opinion, and the other too are smiling awkwardly as they had experienced before him.
He stops in front of them, gaze unwavering. "Well?" he says, voice calm but laced with challenge. "Still think Lys has this in the bag?"
And then…
A soft yawn.
Heads turned.
From the far end of the hall, Lys wandered in—hair tousled, shirt half-zipped like he'd thrown it on seconds ago. He looked like he'd just woken up from a nap he actually enjoyed. His hand rubbed at his eye lazily, golden hair falling slightly into his face. His shirt slid off one shoulder, collar stretched, exposing the deep red tattoos snaking across his chest and ribs.
The room went dead silent again—but this time, for a completely different reason.