After Monarch's rehearsal ended, the lights in the temporary stage room dimmed, leaving faint echoes of music bouncing off the walls. The members were sprawled on couches, towels draped around their necks, still flushed with adrenaline.
Meanwhile, across town, Equinox was finishing up a late-night recording session. SOL—Yul—stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, the city's lights reflecting in his gold-flecked eyes. The others—Juno, Dara, Rien, and Nox—finished packing up their instruments and notes.
Juno broke the silence first. "You're not going back to your room yet?"
Yul didn't turn. "Not yet." His gaze remained fixed on the city below, but the tension in his posture softened slightly.
Dara, curious, stepped closer. "You're thinking about him again, aren't you?"
Yul's lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Always."
Nox bounced on the balls of her feet. "We should all just go to the penthouse. Sit. Chill. Maybe he'll come by. Maybe not."
Rien adjusted the strap of her bag. "You mean you want to go. He'll be here alone if we go."
Yul finally turned, golden eyes meeting each of theirs in turn. "Then let's all go."
The penthouse was quiet when they arrived, the low hum of the city beneath them. Yul's reflection shimmered faintly on the polished floor-to-ceiling glass as he walked toward the lounge, where the last remnants of his own earlier solitude lingered—candles unlit, music notes stacked neatly on the side table.
"Finally," Juno muttered under her breath, more to herself than anyone else, relief threading her voice.
Dara plopped onto the couch dramatically, stretching her arms above her head. "About time. I almost thought you were brooding forever."
Yul leaned against the window, still tense, still magnetic, but calmer with the presence of his friends around him. Nox darted to the minibar, grabbing a soda. Rien sank into the armchair near the bookshelves.
"It's been a long night," Yul admitted softly. "Watching them… performing, feeling the music—there's so much energy. I… I don't know how to explain it."
Juno crossed her arms, studying him. "You feel it in a way we don't? Or a way only you do?"
Yul's gaze flicked toward the skyline. "Both." He turned slightly, almost catching the reflection of something behind him in the glass—but only for a second.
Dara grinned, nudging him. "Relax. For once. Let's just sit. Talk. Pretend the world doesn't exist for ten minutes."
Yul finally allowed himself to sink onto the couch beside her, one arm draped casually across the backrest. His presence was heavy, magnetic, but here it was softer—less danger, more warmth.
Nox leaned against him, oblivious to the quiet tension he radiated, while Juno and Rien gave the space their careful attention. For a fleeting moment, the penthouse felt safe, insulated from the chaos outside.
And yet… Yul's mind flickered. Thoughts of Jiwon, of Monarch, of the city lights reflecting like shards of memory on the glass. He closed his eyes briefly, taking in the sound of his friends' chatter, grounding himself.
"You should have seen them," he said, voice low. "Monarch… they were incredible. Every note, every move… it's impossible to watch and not feel something."
Dara smirked. "Jealous?"
Yul chuckled softly, golden eyes glinting. "A little."
The group settled into a quiet rhythm, laughter and conversation punctuating the night. But for Yul, even amidst camaraderie, his thoughts kept returning to Jiwon, to the fire he carried, to the moments stolen between rooftops and whispers—moments that refused to leave him alone.
And deep down, he knew: even in the safety of friends, the pull toward Monarch, toward Jiwon, was only getting stronger.