Equinox Studio — Late Afternoon
The room was dim, filled with the soft hum of monitors and the glow of scattered candles. Yul sat at the upright piano, fingers brushing lightly across the keys, coaxing a melody that was at once fragile and magnetic.
Dara tapped a rhythm against her leg, eyes fixed on the sheet music. "This track… it's unreal. Dangerous-sounding, but beautiful."
Juno leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "If this goes live, the fans won't survive. And honestly… neither will we."
Rien scribbled lyrics into his notebook, muttering under his breath. "Every note, every pause… it's like the room itself is breathing."
Nox shuffled tarot cards across the table. "It's alive. The song wants to be seen… by someone."
Yul's golden eyes lifted, calm but intense. "Yes. It will be seen. And when it is… they'll understand."
Dara tilted her head. "By who?"
Yul's lips curved faintly. "By everyone watching. But especially… by him."
The group exchanged glances. They knew.
Monarch's Dorm — Evening
The living room was dim, curtains drawn against the city lights. Jiwon sat on the sofa, phone in hand, headphones around his neck. The screen glowed with a live feed from Equinox's rehearsal room — an official teaser, unlisted but leaked to major fan channels.
Zayn leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "You're… watching them again."
Jiwon didn't answer. His eyes tracked Yul's fingers on the piano, the subtle tilt of his head, the way the music seemed to flow directly from him into the room, and now… into the cameras.
Min moved to the window, quiet. "It's… mesmerizing. Like a shadow and light dancing together."
Kai smirked. "Or like someone's trying to hypnotize your leader. Not that it's working… entirely."
EO frowned. "The fans are losing it online. Dispatch is already speculating about the next performance. #SOLSoloStage trending within minutes."
Jiwon's jaw tightened. He felt it again — the tug at the edges of his blood, that familiar pull he'd felt the first night on the rooftop.
Equinox's Song — Planning for Performance
Back in the studio, Yul and the team were refining details for the upcoming stage:
Lighting: Soft golds bleeding into deep crimson at the chorus, shadows dancing across the stage to reflect the tension in the song.
Visuals: LED screens projecting abstract flames and starlight, shifting with each note.
Choreography: Minimalistic, yet magnetic. Movements mirrored emotion rather than rhythm — a physical language of longing, restraint, and power.
Vocals: Yul's ethereal tone leading, supported by subtle harmonies from Rien and Dara. Juno's movements accentuated key moments, a silent punctuation to the story the music told.
Yul's gaze occasionally flicked to the camera, aware that someone would see. Someone whose presence mattered more than any audience.
Media & Fan Buzz
Within hours, the rehearsal clip spread:
SeoulPulse: "Equinox teases a solo stage that promises to break hearts. Fans speculate on the connection to Monarch's REX. #SOLSoloStage #VeilContinues"X Trending: #GoldenBloodReturns #EyesOnTheStageFan Commentary:
"That hand movement! The look! He's singing for someone, I just know it."
"SOL's presence is… magnetic. Dangerous. I can't look away."
"REX is watching this. Someone clip that reaction. I need it for evidence."
Monarch's Internal Reactions
The five members watched, tense in their dorm:
Jiwon: Silent, jaw tight. He could feel the energy, the pull. His fingers drummed unconsciously against his knees. He didn't flinch, but his chest ached.
Zayn: Protective instinct kicking in. He noticed the shift in Jiwon's breathing, the way his eyes didn't leave Yul on screen. "Don't get pulled in," he muttered.
Min: Sensitive to energy, shivering slightly. "It's… heavy. Like a storm before it breaks."
Kai: Trying to joke, but his hands shook slightly. "Yep. Definitely manipulative. Probably psychic. Just saying."
EO: Quietly scrolling comments, muttering, "The fandom is spiraling. They already ship… what I can't even describe."
Closing Moment
As the rehearsal clip ended, the room fell silent. The city lights outside shimmered against the windows.
Jiwon leaned back, eyes narrowing slightly. He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
He felt seen.
And more dangerously: he realized he wanted to be.