The SUV came to a stop behind the stadium, the sound of distant music vibrating through the concrete. A staff member opened the door and smiled warmly.
"They're inside," she said. "Hyunjin just stepped off stage. You'll be taken to the green room in a moment."
You nodded, stepping out onto the pavement, stage lights flashing high above. You adjusted the satin top, the silver belt catching in the light, your lanyard swinging gently around your neck.
Every step toward the corridor felt like a heartbeat—louder, closer, tighter.
And then you turned the corner—and stopped.
So did he.
Hyunjin
Hair slicked back, jaw sharp under the harsh light, a towel hanging around his neck from rehearsal. His shirt was loose, collar stretched slightly, skin glistening from the stage.
But the second he saw you, he froze. His towel dropped. His mouth parted—no words, just pure reaction. Like he'd been hit in the chest.
You took a small step forward. "Too much?"
He blinked once, slowly.
"No," he said, voice low and almost broken. "No, it's... too perfect."
The hallway was quiet but thick with tension.
"You're dangerous," he whispered, eyes sweeping over you—not disrespectful, but in awe. "I thought last night wrecked me. But this? This is something else."
You smiled, a little breathless now. "I wasn't sure if I should wear it."
His gaze met yours again—harder this time, more serious. "Don't ever doubt it. The second they see you like this, they'll all feel it."
You tilted your head. "Including you?"
Hyunjin stepped closer—just enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him. "I already feel it," he murmured. "And I haven't even touched you."
You swallowed, chest rising, but before you could answer—A voice echoed from down the hall. "Yo, Hyunjin! Manager's looking for—"
Chan
He stopped mid-sentence when he saw you. Eyes locking. Expression unreadable. Tension shifting again.
Hyunjin took a slow step back, like he knew the moment had passed—for now. But the damage was already done. And your night had officially begun
You didn't move. Neither did Chan. His eyes scanned you from head to toe—slow, deliberate, unblinking. The black satin top, the chain belt hugging your waist, the slight shimmer at your collarbone. Then his jaw flexed. Not in anger. In restraint. He stepped forward, gaze darkening the closer he got. When he finally stopped, just inches away, Hyunjin instinctively drifted to the side, giving him space.
Chan's voice was low—gravel-soft. "You wore it."
You nodded once. "You picked it."
His fingers twitched at his side like he was holding himself back. "You don't know what you've just done," he murmured, eyes locked on yours.
"I think I do," you whispered.
Chan exhaled hard through his nose, eyes flickering to your lips before he pulled them back to your eyes. "You're going to make this impossible for me."
"Good," you said.
That word hit him like a spark. His hand came up—hovering near your waist, not touching, but close enough that your skin buzzed in anticipation. But just before he could break that line, a crew member appeared.
"Chan—need you for lineup. They're asking for everyone backstage. She's clear to go."
His jaw clenched once. Then he looked back at you. "Come with me."
You walked beside Chan, Hyunjin following close, the backstage halls echoing with voices, clapping, and the thump of bass through the walls. You passed racks of stage outfits, crates of lighting equipment, open dressing rooms. Then—your heart skipped.
Lee Know
Lee Know stepped out of a side hallway, mid-sentence to Felix—until he saw you.
He stopped cold. Eyes dropping to your waist, lingering at your neckline, then slowly lifting to meet yours. His mouth opened just slightly, his words gone.
Felix turned, eyebrows raised. "Whoa."
"Holy sh—" Han added from behind, practically crashing into a chair.
Even Seungmin gave a rare double take.
Lee Know took two slow steps toward you. "You changed," he said quietly.
"I wanted to," you replied. "Felt right."
He looked at Chan, then at Hyunjin, then back to you. "It was always going to look better on you than in any bag."
Chan didn't say a word—but he stayed close. Not territorial. Just present. Grounded in you. And every member could feel it—this wasn't just a girl in a pretty outfit. This was a moment none of them would forget.
Felix
The dressing room buzzed with energy—staff members moving like clockwork, stage mics being tested, and the boys slipping into their performance gear. You stood near the edge of the room, still processing the way each of them had looked at you. Like you'd tilted their whole world off its axis. You were about to follow Chan toward the inner stage hall when a gentle hand touched your arm.
"Hey," Felix said, voice soft as sugar and gravel, "come here for a sec?"
You blinked, surprised. "Yeah, of course."
He led you to a quieter corner near a stack of backup costumes, just out of earshot from the rest of the group. His brows were furrowed—not upset, just thoughtful.
"I wanted to talk to you before everything kicks off," he said.
You nodded, sensing the shift in his tone.
"I know this probably feels wild. Like you just fell into something you weren't expecting." His eyes met yours, steady and sincere. "But you should know... you didn't just show up. You affected them."
You tilted your head slightly. "What do you mean?"
He smiled faintly. "Hyunjin hasn't stopped staring at his phone since you texted. Lee Know's been quieter than usual—like he's thinking too much. And Chan..." he paused. "I haven't seen him this wired in months. Focused, but also... shaken. You rattled something loose in him. Something good."
Your heart fluttered, warmth blooming in your chest.
"They've all fallen into their own little orbit around you," Felix said. "But it's not just about attraction or curiosity. It's more than that. You see them. You see us. And that's rare."
You swallowed, overwhelmed but touched. "Felix..."
He reached out and squeezed your hand gently. "I just wanted you to know what you walked into. You're not just a pretty face backstage. You've started something none of them expected."
You looked into his soft, glowing eyes. "And you? How do you feel about all this?"
He smiled wider, but more reserved. "I'm the observer, remember? I watch. And I protect the people I care about."
Then he leaned in slightly. "Just... be careful with their hearts. Especially his."
You didn't have to ask who his meant. You looked across the room to where Chan stood—shoulders tense, head down, hands resting on the back of a chair like he was centering himself before a storm. Your storm.
The hallway buzzed with life—stylists adjusting outfits, staff communicating over radios, bass thudding from behind the stage. From down the corridor, you could hear the VIP pit already filling. Screams echoed like crashing waves. They didn't know the show hadn't even started yet.
They were screaming for Stray Kids. Screaming for Chan. And yet... he wasn't looking at them. He was looking at you.
Everyone else was gearing up for soundcheck, slipping in earpieces, testing mics, bouncing with adrenaline. But Chan? He hadn't moved. He stood in the doorway to the green room, one hand on the frame, eyes only on you. When you stepped toward him, the noise behind you faded like a fading tide.
"You okay?" you asked, voice just loud enough for him to hear.
He didn't answer right away. He just stared at you—really stared. The black satin top. The chain belt. The way your eyes hadn't wavered since the moment you walked into this world. Then he finally stepped forward, closing the distance.
"I should be out there hyping up the team," he murmured, "but I can't leave without this."
"This?"
"You."
Your breath caught.
He reached for your hand, fingers warm against yours. The noise behind the stage swelled, but still, he didn't flinch.
"Thank you for wearing it," he said quietly, his thumb brushing your knuckles. "For showing up. For not playing it safe."
You leaned in just slightly, enough for your voice to drop to a whisper. "You're the one who gave me permission not to."
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips—only for a second—before his expression softened into something heavier. More vulnerable.
"I meant what I said last night," he added. "This isn't something I want to pretend didn't happen."
You nodded, barely able to breathe. "Then don't."
His eyes searched yours, and just for a second—one electric second—he looked like he might kiss you right there in the hallway. But instead, he leaned in, lips brushing just past your cheek... and whispered directly against your ear:
"When I come off that stage, I want you to still be standing here."
Before you could respond, a staffer called, "Soundcheck lineup! Five minutes!"
Chan pulled back, his fingers letting go slowly, like he didn't want to—but had to.
"I'll be right there," he called over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off you.
And then, finally, he walked away—his silhouette swallowed by the glow of the stage tunnel. You stood there, pulse racing, as the crowd erupted the second he stepped out.
They screamed for Bang Chan. But you were the only one who knew his heart was still in the hallway.
Changbin
You stood near the edge of the backstage hallway, just where Chan had left you. The roar of the VIP pit was still thunderous, the vibrations of soundcheck shaking the walls, but you stayed exactly where you promised you'd be. And then—
BAM.
Someone nearly collided into you from the side entrance, muttering to himself about forgetting a sweat towel.
"Oh—!" the person stopped short.
It was Changbin, chest heaving, cheeks slightly flushed from the soundcheck rush.
He blinked, eyes widening as he realized who you were.
"Ohh," he said, lips curling into a knowing smile. "You're the reason the leader's been out of it today."
You raised a brow. "Out of it?"
"Focused... distracted... grinning at the floor like a fool between sets," he added. "Take your pick."
You laughed, and Changbin leaned casually against the wall beside you. "I gotta admit," he said, crossing his arms, "I wasn't sure what the hype was about. They've been talking about you like you're some mythical creature. But now... I get it."
You gave him a playful look. "Is that a compliment or a warning?"
"Both," he grinned. "Mostly a compliment. Just... be gentle, alright?"
"With Chan?" you asked, suddenly serious.
"With all of them," he said. "You lit something up in them. They're not used to someone who sees them without the stage in the way."
Before you could respond, a voice cut in from behind. "Don't scare her off, Binnie."
You turned—and there was Chan, a little sweaty, flushed from stage energy, but eyes locked on you like you were the only thing grounding him.
Changbin patted your shoulder with a wink. "She's not scared. Yet."
Then he jogged off towards wardrobe, calling something about protein bars over his shoulder.
Chan stepped close, running a hand through his damp hair. "Sorry about him. He means well."
"I liked it," you said. "It felt real."
Chan smiled, then gestured down the hall.
"Come with me. I want you with us before we go out."
You followed him to the green room, where the rest of the boys were already gathering—some stretching, others messing with earpieces, Han balancing a bottle of water on his head just to make Seungmin laugh.
When you walked in with Chan, the noise dipped slightly—just for a second.
Then Felix grinned. "She's here. Now it feels right."
Hyunjin smirked from across the room, clearly remembering earlier. "She's already seen us all wrecked. Let's finish the job."
Lee Know met your eyes but said nothing—his gaze held enough.
Chan guided you to sit on a plush couch tucked in the corner, then stood in the center of the room. "Alright, team." He clapped once, loud. "Two hours. Let's get our minds in it. But first..." He looked directly at you. "Let's thank the reason the universe decided to make today a little different."
You flushed, laughing softly. "No pressure."
"Only gratitude," Felix said.
"Weird gratitude," Han added. "But still. Gratitude."
They gathered around, forming their usual pre-show huddle—this time with you pulled slightly into the center. Not a fan. Not a guest. Part of something bigger.
Chan looked around the group, then back at you one more time before saying, "Let's give them a show none of us forget."
And as they broke the huddle with a roar and laughter, the room pulsed with something powerful. Excitement. Nerves. Fire. And at the center of it all...You.