POV — VXN
The stadium was packed with millions.
Every seat. Every standing space. Every corner of that enormous building filled with people who had traveled from different cities, different countries, different parts of the world just to be in this place tonight. Lightsticks in every colour moving in waves across the darkness like a living breathing ocean of light stretching as far as the eye could see.
The lights went dark.
What followed was not screaming.
It was something beyond screaming — a wall of sound so enormous and so physical that you could feel it pressing against your chest. Millions of voices combining into one single unstoppable force that hit the ceiling and came back down doubled.
Then the music started.
Jaemin came out first.
Tall, effortlessly handsome, moving across the stage like he had been born on it. His voice filled the stadium from the very first note — smooth and powerful and completely certain of itself — and the crowd responded immediately.
JAEMIN! JAEMIN WE LOVE YOU!
YOU ARE SO HANDSOME JAEMIN!
Girls were crying in the front row before he had finished his first line. Others were jumping, holding banners, reaching toward the stage with everything they had.
Then Sungjae.
He came in from the side with an energy that made the entire left section of the stadium erupt the moment he appeared. His rap was sharp and rhythmic and delivered with the kind of confidence that made people forget everything except the words coming out of his mouth.
SUNGJAE! SUNGJAE OPPA WE LOVE YOU!
YOU ARE THE BEST SUNGJAE!
The crowd was already beyond itself.
And then —
Taejun.
He walked out from the centre of the stage.
And millions of people lost their minds completely.
The sound that erupted was like nothing else on earth — raw and desperate and completely overwhelming, millions of voices screaming one name over and over into the night like it was the only word any of them knew.
TAEJUN! TAEJUN!
I LOVE YOU TAEJUN PLEASE LOOK AT ME!
YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL TAEJUN!
Fans were crying. Fans were shaking. Girls were holding each other because their legs had stopped working properly. Banners with his face on them stretched across entire sections of the stadium — his name written in every language, in every colour, in letters big enough to be seen from the back of a building that held millions of people.
Taejun stood at the centre microphone.
He looked out at all of it — all of them — with those eyes that had stopped people breathing on every magazine cover, every billboard, every screen they had ever appeared on.
And then he performed.
And the world disappeared for everyone inside that stadium.
POV — Sungjae
The dressing room was the first quiet place we had been in hours.
We came off stage and collapsed — Jaemin on the couch, Taejun against the wall, me on the chair — three people completely emptied out by two hours of giving everything they had to millions of people who wanted more.
Our PA appeared with three cups of coffee on a tray.
"Good show tonight," she said.
Jaemin took his and leaned back. "My arms are dead," he said.
I took mine and stretched my legs out. "My everything is dead."
Taejun took his and held it. He looked at both of us and shook his head slowly — the particular expression he always wore when he thought we were being dramatic, which was most of the time.
I pointed at him. "Don't judge us. You just stood there looking beautiful. We actually moved."
Jaemin laughed.
Taejun raised an eyebrow.
We sat together in the quiet for a few minutes — drinking, breathing, coming back to ourselves — and I looked at the two of them and felt the particular warmth that nine years of being in each other's lives produces without you even noticing it happening.
My people.
"Let's go home," I said.
POV — VXN
The cars were waiting outside.
The moment the back doors opened the reporters were there — cameras flashing from every direction — and behind the reporters the fans. Pressed against the barriers, screaming, reaching, lightsticks and banners and voices calling names into the night air.
JAEMIN! JAEMIN OVER HERE!
SUNGJAE! SUNGJAE OPPA!
TAEJUN! TAEJUN PLEASE LOOK HERE! I LOVE YOU!
Taejun walked to his car with his head slightly down and his hands in his pockets and gave the crowd exactly what he always gave them in these moments — one look. Just one. Direct and brief and completely unhurried.
The section of fans closest to him screamed so loud it had a physical quality to it. Two girls near the barrier burst into tears completely. Another grabbed her friend's arm and shook it like she couldn't contain what she was feeling inside her own body.
He got in the car.
The door closed.
And the convoy moved.
POV — Taejun
The residence was quiet when we got back.
I went straight to my room.
Sat on the edge of my bed.
Picked up my phone.
A message from my sister.
How was the concert? I saw the clips online. You looked tired.
I smiled.
She always said that.
I typed back.
I am tired. Too tired to come home this time. Next one I promise.
Her reply came immediately.
You always say that.
I know.
Get some rest then. Eat something.
I will.
Taejun.
What.
I miss you.
I looked at those three words for a moment.
Then I typed — I miss you too — and put the phone down.
I reached for the coffee.
I drank.
It was good. Strong. The way I liked it.
I picked my phone back up and scrolled — through nothing in particular, the way you do when your body is tired but your mind hasn't caught up yet — and let the quiet of the room wrap around me.
Then the heat came.
Sudden. Unexpected. Rising from somewhere deep and spreading fast — across my chest, up my neck, across my face — and I lowered my phone slowly and sat completely still and tried to understand what was happening to my body.
Sweat broke out across my forehead.
Then my neck.
Then everywhere.
I dropped my phone.
And screamed.