The arena had been deafening. Twenty thousand voices screamed in unison, glow sticks painting the venue like a shifting galaxy. The bass of VIVID's final track still vibrated in Jaeyoon's bones as he hit his last pose center stage, sweat dripping down the sharp line of his jaw.

"BERLIN!" Seongmin's commanding voice boomed as he ripped out his earpiece, rallying the crowd. "Thank you for being our light tonight!" The fans roared. Confetti rained down in a rainbow cascade, sticking to Jaeyoon's damp skin. The scent of sweat and stage chemicals mixed with the faint perfume drifting from the audience.

Beside him, Hyunwoo executed one last flourish, body moving with sharp perfection until the very end. Even after two hours of merciless choreography, he didn't falter. "Stage was tight!" he grinned at Harin, slinging an arm around him as they bowed together. The sound of camera shutters clicked like mechanical insects capturing every moment.

Harin, the group's face, winked effortlessly into the cameras, sending the front row into fits. "Berlin, you were gorgeous tonight." His voice dripped honey, practiced but magnetic. Jaeyoon watched his bandmate work the crowd, the practiced charm a stark contrast to his own racing thoughts.

Jaeyoon stayed quiet, chest rising and falling, eyes narrowed under the hot stage lights. He scanned the sea of faces, thousands chanting his name, reaching out with glowing hands... but it wasn't enough. It never was. He thought of only one person. The person who wasn't there. The person who should've been standing backstage, waiting with that smile.

His jaw tightened. He pushed his tongue against his teeth, smirking into the cameras just enough to make fans lose it. Let them think it was for them. But it wasn't. It was for the one waiting at home, the one he missed more than the comfortable bed in his own apartment.

Backstage was chaos. Staff yelling cues, stylists tugging at sweaty clothes, the members collapsing onto couches. The air conditioning hit Jaeyoon's overheated body with a pleasant chill as he moved through the throng, already planning his escape.

"Hyung, you're quiet," Harin remarked, finally glancing up from scrolling through fancams of himself. "Everything okay?"

"Just tired," Jaeyoon lied smoothly, smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. "Don't worry about it."

The bathroom door clicked shut behind him. Silence. Finally. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a harsh glow on the white tiles. He dropped the towel, leaned into the mirror. His platinum-blonde hair, still damp, clung messily to his forehead. His shirt was plastered to his chest, highlighting every hard-earned line. His reflection looked like the stage-devil the fans screamed over, but he knew the truth: this was just the surface.

Pulling his shirt up, he revealed his abs, glistening under the fluorescent light. He angled his phone, snapped a photo. Clean. Sharp. Enough to make his partner's breath catch. He sent it without hesitation.