For a few seconds, no one moved.
Then Minho leaned closer to Serin and whispered, "So… are you sure you can do the talking?"
Serin raised her hand in a thumbs-up, her face completely blank, as if the difficulty of the task didn't exist at all.
"Sure I can."
"Go ahead~"
"Here I go!"
The moment Serin turned her back on them, her confident expression collapsed. A silent scream twisted across her face as she started walking toward the gate.
Inside the guard's small room, a man sat slouched in his chair. When he noticed Serin standing outside the glass window, he frowned. To make sure he wasn't imagining things, he stood up and stepped out.
"What are you doing here at this hour, kid?"
The moment Serin saw his face, she nearly wanted to sink into the ground.
This wasn't the guard she knew.
Her stomach dropped as she remembered—the other guard had mentioned his wife's difficult childbirth and how he wanted to stay close to her. He had taken a few days off.
"Oh, Demian," she muttered under her breath. "You're terrible at gathering information."
Of course she blamed Demain. He was the one who somehow gathered informations about her and the guard's closeness, so why didn't he know about the guard's family situation?
She glanced back. Every single one of them was staring at her. Serin turned back to the guard and took a deep breath.
"Here comes my getting kicked out of my school arc," she whispered.
"What is a kid like you doing here?" the guard snapped.
"S-Sir, I'd like to ask for something," Serin said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"And what is that?"
"Can you give me the key to the auditorium?" She let out a nervous laugh.
The guard frowned. "This is no time to play pranks. Go home. It's not safe to wander around at this hour."
Serin exhaled sharply. "I'm not alone, sir."
She turned and pointed behind her. "They're here too. We want to use the auditorium to practice for the festival. Well—not me exactly, I'm not performing, but you get the idea."
The guard followed her finger, eyes landing on the group standing a short distance away. For a moment, his expression looked like he almost believed her. Key word almost...
Then he snorted. "Kids are very good at lying these days."
"No! We're not—" Serin stepped forward, but her words were cut off by the guard's sharp glare.
"Fine. Let's say I believe you." He crossed his arms. "Now what? You expect me to hand you the key?"
His gaze swept over her from head to toe.
"You don't look like a five-year-old, but your expectations sure sound like a kid's delusion."
"I know," Serin muttered, staring at the ground. "This doesn't even feel real."
"Go home," the guard said, already turning back toward his room. "And continue playing truth or dare."
Serin opened her mouth, ready to beg—but a sudden tap landed on her shoulder.
"Will this make our delusion seem real?"
Demian's voice was calm, almost bored.
Serin turned around, and her eyes nearly popped out of her face.
Two crisp thousand-dollar notes rested between Demian's fingers.
She looked behind him, Evelyn and the others were stepping closer. Demian didn't look at them. His eyes stayed fixed on the guard, his expression still blank—as if he was simply waiting for an answer.
"Are you crazy?!" Serin hissed, spinning toward Demian, her fingers clutching his sleeve.
"And you'll get this amount every night," Demian said calmly, holding out the bills, clearly ignoring Serin's protest.
The guard let out a rough laugh and turned fully toward him. "Are you trying to buy me with money?"
"Yes."
The single word landed heavily.
The guard scoffed. "And what makes you so confident I'd take it?"
Demian sighed, as if already tired of the conversation. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "I don't really want to talk too much."
Then, he quietly added,
"But your daughter's surgery will cost a lot of money."
The guard stiffened. "…What?"
Demian locked his gaze onto him—eyes empty, cold, utterly emotionless. There was no anger in them.
"Do you think a kid like you can fool me?" the guard said, forcing out the last of his confidence, though his voice wavered.
Demian clicked his tongue, irritated."…Annoying."
He pulled out his phone and turned the screen toward the guard.
The guard's breath hitched.
The article headline read:
DONVAN DESMOND ACQUIRES FULL OWNERSHIP OF XXX GENERAL HOSPITAL
In a late-night announcement, the Desmond Group confirmed the acquisition of XXX General Hospital, expanding its control over the country's medical sector. The deal places the hospital directly under Donvan Desmond's management…
The guard looked away slowly as Demian slipped the phone back into his pocket.
"And how do I know you won't do something bad inside the auditorium?" he asked quietly, eyes lifting back to Demian.
"Quick to negotiate now, huh," Demian muttered, "Well…"
He tilted his head slightly.
"You'll just have to trust us."
A faint smile tugged at his lips—cold enough to send a chill down the guard's spine.
"And how long will you stay?"
Demian pretended to think. "Till dawn, probably." He gave a short, humorless laugh. "Don't worry. No one will notice."
"And if someone does?" the guard pressed. "I'll lose my job."
"Even though the chances are zero," Demian replied, unbothered, "I'll take responsibility for finding you another one. Something better suited for you."
Silence stretched between them.
"WAH, man You even got us scared!" Minho laughed, spinning the key around his finger like a toy.
"I wasn't actually going to stop his daughter's treatment," Demian said quietly, walking a few steps behind the others.
They avoided the main gate since the CCTV cameras there were impossible to dodge. Instead, they slipped in through the school's back gate. That side of the campus had been abandoned for years—tall weeds, wild plants, and uneven ground everywhere. Leaves brushed against their legs as they pushed through, shoes sinking into soft dirt. Someone cursed every few steps.
"Want some support?" Jace asked, holding out his hand when he noticed Evelyn struggling.
"Thank you," Evelyn said, taking it without hesitation. "This place is a mess to walk through in the dark." She kicked aside a plant, nearly tripping again.
Revi's gaze flicked toward them for a brief second. His steps slowed just a little. Whatever crossed his face vanished almost as quickly as it appeared.
"Pff," Minho laughed, walking confidently ahead of them. He glanced back with a smug smile. "See how I'm in front of you all? Noobs."
The moment the word left his mouth, his foot caught in a thick weed. He stumbled and went down hard.
"—AGH!"
Revi snorted, stepping right past him without offering a hand.
The group burst into quiet laughter, their voices echoing through the dark path. Everyone was talking over one another—except two.
Serin stayed quiet. Demian followed behind her, silent as a shadow.
Serin's mind was elsewhere.
She still couldn't shake what had happened earlier. How calmly Demian had used the guard's fear. How easily he had pressed on a wound and called it a deal. In less than half an hour, she had seen two completely different sides of him.
One was the quiet boy with paint-stained hands, hiding away in a small room filled with warmth and music. building a small, warm place just for himself. A room full of color and music. The image of the room flicked in her mind.
The other was the heir of the Desmond family. Someone who knew how to dig for information. Someone who knew exactly where to hit when people were at their weakest.
That was probably why he had said those things to her at the café. About missing childhood memories, about distance. He knew how to touch people where it hurt.
Serin slowed slightly and glanced back over her shoulder.
Demian's posture was relaxed, hands in his pockets, face calm—as if he hadn't just threatened someone's entire world.
"What happened to him…?" Serin murmured, then quickly looked away.
A few years ago, he had been just a normal boy who wanted friends. He always stayed near Serin, even though he never admitted she was his friend. He hated Evelyn back then—mostly because she was always closest to Serin.
Serin had thought he denied their friendship because he was shy.
He used to cry over the smallest things. And somehow, she was always the mature one, comforting him. Things stayed like that until middle school. After that, something shifted.
He started pulling away.
When he changed schools after finishing middle school, it felt like the final break. He stopped visiting Serin's school altogether. He didn't even bother reaching out to Evelyn—despite being in the same school and year as her, just in different classrooms.
Evelyn was always the one who went to him. Always the one starting conversations when she needed something.
Serin had noticed everything. And it scared her how quiet he had become.
behind her, demian noticed how quiet she was. One of his eyes narrowed slightly, his mouth tilting downward in clear annoyance.
"Tch…"
The sound came from right behind Serin.
She stiffened. She didn't dare look back, afraid that if he saw her face, he'd know exactly what was running through her head.
...
Serin pushed the auditorium gate open. The heavy metal creaked, the sound echoing through the empty space before settling into silence.
The auditorium was massive—far bigger than most school halls. Every major event was held here, unlike Demian's school that used an outdoor festival field.
"This could easily fit all the students in this school," Evelyn said, stepping inside and slowly turning in a circle, her voice bouncing faintly off the walls. "Even students from other schools."
"I was wondering how big it actually was," Minho agreed, walking in behind her and craning his neck toward the ceiling. "For an indoor stage, this is insane."
Revi set his guitar case down near the seats, and frowned slightly. "But what about our instruments?" he asked. "Bringing them back and forth every day, unpacking and packing—it's going to be a hassle."
Serin didn't answer. She jogged up the steps to the stage, her shoes tapped softly against the wooden floor as she reached the far side near the back exit door, she crouched and grabbed onto what looked like part of the wall. With a sharp kick—
Clack.
A hidden door swung open.
"There," Serin said, straightening up and dusting off her hands. "You can keep everything here."
She stepped aside, revealing a small storage room tucked neatly behind the stage. It was clean, dry, and surprisingly spacious.
"No one comes in here," she added casually. "This place is under my care."
Her eyes flicked toward Demian.
He was a few steps away, already busy setting up his gear. He plugged in his amp and adjusted the knobs. He didn't glance their way. Didn't react.
Almost like he already knew she'd handled it.
Serin turned back to the others. "And don't worry about the sound. The auditorium is soundproofed."
She spread her arms slightly, gesturing to the walls. "As long as you don't go completely overboard, nothing's reaching the neighbors."
"Oh my Oh my~" Evelyn teased.
Minho let out a low whistle while Jace laughed softly. "You really planned everything, huh."
Serin only shrugged, hopping down from the stage with an easy landing. "Someone had to."
Evelyn dragged a chair closer, the legs scraping lightly against the floor before she dropped into it beside Serin. "You said the chairs will be removed, right?"
Serin nodded without hesitation. "Yeah. A lot of people are coming. We'll keep it seatless—open ground."
"Sounds great! We will be able to move around," Evelyn said, eyes lighting up.
Nearby, Jace was already busy setting up his drums, adjusting the stands and tightening screws as the others slowly gathered back together. The quiet hum of preparation filled the space.
Evelyn leaned forward. "So... what tracks are you playing?!"
Minho glanced sideways and caught Revi's expression shift. Subtle, he was Annoyed. Minho hesitated for half a second.
Jace answered first, cheerful as ever. "We're sticking to popular ones this time."
Minho nodded along, choosing to match Jace's rhythm instead of Revi's mood. "Yeah. Three tracks. The Walls and Meddle About by Chase Atlantic, and Secret Door by Arctic Monkeys."
"Wow," Evelyn said immediately, completely ignoring Revi's look. "You're going full energetic."
Revi clicked his tongue quietly and shifted the conversation before it could drift further. His gaze slid toward Demian, who stood a little apart, guitar resting against his side.
"You'll handle the solo guitar parts, right?" Revi asked.
"Yes." Demian adjusted his grip and stepped up onto the stage. "Now… shall we begin?"
The uneven beats of their practice filled the auditorium, the sound of unpracticed rhythm bouncing off the walls. Each mistake made them pause, adjust, and correct one another, but the energy never faltered.
Evelyn and Serin sat on the floor of the seating area, watching quietly.
"Why would they choose this school for practice? It's risky… what if they get caught?" Serin whispered, nudging her knees closer to her chest.
Evelyn's gaze stayed on the group for a moment longer before shifting to Serin. "Hmm… I don't get it either. But I think it has something to do with that guy, Revi."
"Something like…?" Serin asked, curiosity written all over her face.
"I heard he struggles performing in a completely new place. He has to get used to the atmosphere before he can really give it his all,"
"So that's why they only perform in certain spots," Serin nudged Evelyn, handing over a chip.
"Yeah," Evelyn said, munching on the chip. "And the rest of the group hates performing in new places too. But since the headmaster of our school has some connections with yours, he practically begged Demian to perform here for once."
"Don't tell me the group accepted that request without asking for anything in return?" Serin's eyebrows rose.
Evelyn laughed, leaning back and tossing another chip into her mouth. "Like hell they would. They asked for a better place to practice—and of course, the headmaster agreed."
"And what kind of relationship does the headmaster have with our headmaster?" she blinked, tilting her head innocently, her genuine curiosity showed on her face.
Evelyn turned her whole body to face Serin, eyebrows raised. "You seriously don't know?!"
"How would I?" Serin replied, shrugging.
"OH GOSH, SERIN!" Evelyn groaned dramatically, shooting the group a quick glance before lowering her voice into a whisper. "He… slept with her a few times…"
"What!?" Serin's jaw dropped, she almost knocked over her chips. "Isn't she married? I mean… our headmaster? She is married!"
"Yes…" Evelyn sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Ah, you really don't keep up with rumors, huh…"
She leaned closer so Serin could hear her better. "And our headmaster knows it too. But he still didn't give up."
Serin's gaze flicked to the band before locking on Evelyn again. "Wait, so why didn't Demian just go directly to our headmaster? He would've helped him get in."
Evelyn clicked her tongue as she leaned back. "Oh, dumbass. Why would she help him? She doesn't like our headmaster. It's him who's head over heels for her, trying to gift her a good band performance. So expecting help from her is useless."
Before Serin could respond, something dark flew into her field of vision.
"Oi—record this for us!" Minho called, already turning back to his bass.
Serin yelped and fumbled, barely catching the phone against her chest. "M-Minho—!" She looked down, instinctively tapping the screen to wake it.
And froze.
The wallpaper filled the display—Demian, half-dressed, caught mid-moment as if the photo had been taken without warning. It was clearly from that morning at his house. His shirt was nowhere in sight, leaving his upper body bare, lean muscle outlined naturally, hisd abs were visible. He wore only a pair of black trousers, sitting low on his hips, the waistband beneath just barely visible in an careless way.
His hair was still damp, a towel slung loosely around his neck, his head tilted down as though he hadn't even noticed the camera. Faint marks and scattered moles dotted his skin, and an old, pale scar traced across his chest. The lighting was poor, the angle clumsy.
Serin's face burned bright red.
Her fingers loosened, the phone nearly slipping from her hands as her mind went completely blank.
"…Serin?" Evelyn squinted at her. "Why are you standing like you're auditioning to be a statue?"
She stood up, leaned over, and looked at the screen.
There was half a second of silence.
"Oh LORD—what just assaulted my eyes?!" Evelyn recoiled dramatically, gagging as she covered her mouth. "This is child abuse!"
Minho turned at the noise. One glance at Serin's red face. One glance at the phone.
"Oh— shit..." he let out a short chuckle, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry, sorry, Serin. I forgot to change the wallpaper."
At the sound of Minho's voice, Demian paused mid-sentence. He had been talking quietly with Revi about guitar notes before the words reached him.
"What…?" Demian turned.
Revi's eyes widened instantly.
Jace, standing nearby, stiffened, his gaze snapping between Minho and Serin.
Serin stared straight ahead, ears burning, brain still refusing to reboot.