Diego dropped to the floor with a dull thud, crossing his legs like a stubborn child and folding his arms tightly across his chest.
"I'm not doing this."
Minho didn't even bother hiding his irritation. "Too bad. You signed the contract. Get up."
"I refuse."
A muscle in Minho's jaw twitched. He nudged Diego with his foot—harder this time. "I don't have the patience for this today."
Diego didn't move. Didn't even look at him. He just stared off to the side like the entire world had personally wronged him.
Minho exhaled sharply and held out his hand.
"Diego."
Nothing.
"I'm serious. Get up."
Still nothing.
Around them, the others were useless.
Jiwoo stood off to the side, softly humming as he warmed up his vocals. Kai was behind Taeyang, pressing down on his back while stretching his legs with effortless ease. Taeyang's legs were spread, arms reaching forward as far as they could go—his face tightening every few seconds from the strain.
Seunghyun… wasn't really there. His eyes were distant, unfocused, like his mind had drifted somewhere far beyond the backstage walls.
Kai glanced over, amusement flickering in his expression. "To be fair," he said lightly, "the schedule is kind of brutal."
"We're next," Minho snapped, his voice tight. "Hyung."
Music burst through the speakers—bright, sugary, almost painfully cheerful.
"Ice cream, ice cream…"
On stage, Missy Girls twirled beneath the lights, their sailor-style outfits flashing pastel colors with every spin. The audience—what little there was—clapped along politely.
Minho lowered his voice, sharp and urgent. "Diego."
Cameras were rolling.
He could feel them.
"You know," Kai murmured, pressing Taeyang deeper into the stretch, "I get why he's acting like that."
Taeyang sucked in a breath, his muscles screaming. "Kai—"
"When I was at HY-PE," Kai continued, glancing toward the stage, "this was one of the last places I ever wanted to perform."
His eyes flicked toward the audience.
Barely thirty people.
Taeyang followed his gaze—and felt something sink in his chest.
"Performing here feels…" Kai exhaled softly. "Depressing."
Silence settled between them.
"Back then," Kai added, quieter now, "we always talked about performing on huge stages. But it never crossed our minds that we'd end up somewhere like this… where there's barely anyone."
Taeyang's expression dimmed.
As a former Circle trainee, he understood all too well.
This wasn't a stage people dreamed of.
This was the kind of place parents dropped their kids off at—like daycare—with a performance on the side. It was almost insulting that this was even called a music show.
If he had debuted under Circle…
He already knew.
They would never have sent him here.
"MSBC," Jiwoo muttered.
Taeyang said nothing.
He couldn't.
"I always figured I'd end up somewhere like this," Jiwoo admitted with a small, awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "So I'm nervous… but I also kind of expected it."
Kai sighed. "Yeah."
Then, brushing it off—
"Let's just do our best—"
"Okay, stop—!"
Taeyang's voice came out strained.
Kai immediately backed off. "Oh—sorry."
Jiwoo quickly stepped in, grabbing Taeyang's hands and pulling him upright—only for Taeyang to collapse sideways with a groan.
"That hurt," he muttered.
Kai grinned. "You could've said something. Now it looks like I abused you."
Taeyang curled slightly, clutching his leg.
"Didn't you always tell us not to overdo it?" Jiwoo teased.
"Aww," Kai added, "even his groans are cute."
Jiwoo burst out laughing.
Kai laughed too, shoving him lightly.
Jiwoo wrapped an arm around Kai's waist, still giggling.
Taeyang pushed himself up slowly, wincing. "I should've stopped you earlier."
Kai clapped him on the back, leaning slightly into Jiwoo. "I better see those splits on stage, though."
Taeyang exhaled, then hesitated.
"…Don't you think we're being ungrateful?"
Kai crossed his arms, thinking for a moment. "…I am."
Taeyang blinked.
Jiwoo squeezed Kai before letting go. "I always expected this."
"Think about it," Kai continued. "Groups like VTS, Y2Y, Illusion… they start big. As HY-PE trainees, we thought if we debuted, we'd become stars."
He gestured toward the stage.
"This place?" He shook his head. "We never imagined it."
Taeyang swallowed. "Our album sold less than a hundred copies."
The words hit hard.
Jiwoo's face flushed.
Kai let out a short laugh. "Yeah… that's honestly depressing. Let's not go there."
"I wasn't—"
"Ice cream, ice crea—!"
"Gosh, if I hear 'ice cream' one more time, I'm ripping my ears off," Kai muttered, side-eyeing the stage.
Taeyang smacked the back of his head immediately.
"Shut up," he whispered urgently, glancing around.
Missy Girls were the most popular group here.
And they?
They were nothing.
If they got canceled now—
It would be over before they even started.
Kai opened his mouth again—then paused.
"…Wait. Isn't it weird that we're performing last?"
Jiwoo blinked at him. "Uh… no?"
"No, think about it," Kai said. "We're nobodies. Missy Girls has the biggest fanbase here. Shouldn't they be closing?"
Jiwoo shrugged. "Maybe the staff thought you were hot."
Kai slowly turned to him.
"…What?"
Jiwoo grinned, puffing out his chest and mimicking dramatically, "Rawr—who is that tall, handsome guy that looks like a manhwa character come to life? Let me get his number—"
He elbowed Kai, giggling.
Taeyang shot him a look before glancing at Kai. "You and Diego are rubbing off on him."
Kai laughed. "He's part of the gang now."
They slapped hands dramatically.
Then—
"Uh… guys?" Seunghyun's quiet voice cut through. "Someone's coming."
A middle-aged man approached, scanning the area.
"Excuse me—where is—"
"I'm here," Manager Jo stepped forward smoothly, bowing. "ECLIPSE's manager."
Behind them, Minho muttered under his breath, "Hyung, I'm not dealing with this. You're the leader—tell Diego to get up. The staff won't stop staring at us."
Diego was still on the floor.
Completely relaxed.
Like he was lying in his own bed.
"Diego," Taeyang said quietly, "the camera's recording."
Diego turned his head.
Looked straight into the lens.
And raised his middle finger.
Minho's jaw dropped. "Hyung—!"
Taeyang immediately bowed toward the cameraman. "I'm so sorry—!"
Before anyone could react—
Kai dropped down beside Diego.
Minho stared at him in disbelief. "Hyung. Not you too."
Kai stretched lazily. "Just sit. We've got time."
"…Screw it."
Jiwoo flopped down between them.
"Move," Diego muttered. "Kai-hyung wanted to sit next to me."
"No."
"Boys!" Manager Jo snapped. "Snap out of it. You're meeting Missy Girls. We worked hard to get this so make a good impression"
Seunghyun blinked. "Us? But we're—"
"Nobodies?" Manager Jo smiled faintly. "Our company still has a name."
A pause.
"…Let's go."
They followed Manager Jo toward the stage.
The moment they stepped closer, the dull, lifeless clapping from the audience seemed to stir—forced, polite, but louder now that attention had shifted.
Manager Jo moved ahead of them, already speaking to a few staff members, his voice low but urgent as he explained the brief interaction with Missy Girls.
"It won't take long," he assured them.
Then, leaning back toward the group, he added in a hushed tone, "Make sure you greet them properly. Exchange albums."
Before anyone could respond, he spun toward the cameramen.
"This is going on YouTube," he said sharply. "Film it well."
Taeyang blinked.
…He seems more nervous than us.
The stage lights flickered.
Then—
Four girls began descending the steps.
They wore matching sailor-style outfits, bright under the lights.
The leader stood at the front.
White hair. Striking.
Beautiful enough to catch anyone's eye—
But up close…
Too thin.
Unnaturally so.
On camera, she probably looked perfect.
In real life—
Taeyang swallowed.
Only one member looked healthy.
His gaze lingered on her for a second.
Is she the least popular one?
…She looks better in person.
"Guys," Taeyang murmured under his breath.
They straightened instantly.
Then bowed in unison.
"Hello, we're ECLIPSE."
The girls blinked, clearly caught off guard.
"Oh—hello."
Their manager leaned in, whispering something quickly to them.
The leader's expression shifted—brightening instantly.
"Nice to meet you," she said, her voice sweet.
Too sweet.
Practiced.
Kai had already checked out.
"We're big fans," Seunghyun added quickly, avoiding eye contact.
Taeyang stepped forward, offering their album with both hands.
The healthier member accepted it quietly, her fingers barely brushing his as she lowered her head—her hair falling forward like a curtain, hiding her face.
Small.
Trying to disappear.
And then—
"Why are you trying to make yourself smaller?"
The words landed like a crack through glass.
Silence.
Everyone turned.
Diego stood there, completely unfazed.
The girl blinked, startled. "What?"
"I noticed you keep covering your face," he said simply. "And shrinking yourself."
A shrug.
"Don't do that."
The air tightened.
"You're hot," he added casually. "Act like it."
Time stopped.
Taeyang felt his heart drop straight into his stomach.
Minho went rigid.
Jiwoo looked like he might pass out.
Seunghyun forgot how to breathe.
And beside him—
Kai was shaking.
Silent laughter barely contained, his shoulders trembling.
The girl froze.
Her members exchanged glances.
Somewhere—
A quiet snort slipped out.
Every head turned.
Kai quickly looked away, pressing his lips together.
Taeyang moved immediately, bowing so fast it almost hurt.
"We're so sorry—!"
Minho's jaw clenched tight enough to crack.
"It's fine," the girl said quickly.
Too quickly.
Taeyang bowed again. "Thank you."
Before anything else could go wrong, he turned—guiding the group away.
Silence followed them.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
Taeyang's heart pounded against his ribs.
We're getting canceled.
"Diego…" His voice came out quieter than he intended. "Don't ever do that again."
The air turned cold.
No one spoke.
And then—
Kai broke.
Laughter spilled out of him, uncontrollable.
"Hyung, this isn't funny!" Minho snapped.
Kai wiped at his eyes, still grinning. "Relax. It's our cameramen. They'll cut it."
A pause.
Then—
Relief hit all at once.
"Oh my God," Seunghyun breathed. "We're saved."
Taeyang exhaled slowly, tension slipping from his shoulders.
"See?" Jiwoo said. "You were all panicking for nothing."
"Shut up," Minho muttered.
A staff member approached, handing them microphones.
"Get on the stage."
The words snapped everything back into place.
The lights cut out.
Darkness swallowed the stage.
Taeyang stepped forward.
Silence fell.
Not the comfortable kind.
The kind that pressed against your chest—heavy, waiting.
Then—
Seunghyun stepped forward.
"Numb… that is all I feel."
His voice slipped into the quiet—raw, fragile, almost too soft for a stage like this.
And yet—
It carried.
"Sunset to sunrise…"
A tremor ran through the note.
Not weakness.
Emotion.
"How can I break free?"
On the last word—
Snap.
Their bodies moved.
Sharp. Controlled. Precise.
Every movement cut cleanly through the dim light, their synchronization so tight it felt rehearsed into their bones.
Then Taeyang.
"I can't feel your love… nor can I love you."
His voice dropped—heavier, weighted.
The music swelled beneath him.
"Truly… I feel nothing."
Jiwoo surged forward.
"Cause I'm so numb!"
His voice cracked open the space—loud, desperate, impossible to ignore.
"Heyyy—yeah!"
Diego's rough tone tore through right after.
Unpolished.
Alive.
The formation shifted again—Jiwoo at the center now, his movements softening, breath syncing with the rhythm.
"Numb… numb… numb…"
The lights cut.
Darkness swallowed everything.
For a single moment—
The world disappeared.
No audience.
No cameras.
No expectations.
Just—
Taeyang's heartbeat.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Too loud.
Too fast.
We're going to get canceled.
The thought clawed its way back in.
Diego's voice echoed in his head—
You're hot. Act like it.
The girl's frozen face.
The cameras.
Taeyang clenched his jaw.
Focus.
A low hum crept in—the intro track returning, distant, pulsing like something alive.
A spotlight flickered on.
Seunghyun again.
"Numb… that is all I feel."
This time—
It reached further.
It slipped through the empty rows, echoed against the hollow walls—
And still landed.
Taeyang's breathing steadied.
"Sunset to sunrise…"
The note stretched.
Unsteady.
Real.
"How… can I break free?"
Snap.
They moved again.
Every isolation crisp. Every angle deliberate.
No cheers.
No fanchants.
Just silence.
But somehow—
It felt louder than a crowd.
Taeyang stepped forward.
"I can't feel your love…"
Each word dragged, like it cost him something.
"Nor can I love you."
His chest tightened.
The lyrics hit too close.
We're nobodies.
Less than a hundred albums.
"Truly… I feel nothing."
His voice dipped—
Almost breaking.
But he held it.
Jiwoo burst forward.
"Cause I'm so numb!"
The sound ripped through the stillness.
And for the first time—
Heads lifted in the audience.
A few people leaned forward.
Diego followed—
"Heyyy—yeah!"
Rough.
Unfiltered.
Real.
Something shifted.
Subtle.
But there.
A murmur.
A whisper.
"…They're good."
"Wait—who are they?"
On stage—
They didn't hear it.
But they felt it.
For a moment—
It didn't matter how small the crowd was.
It didn't matter that no one knew their name.
Here—
They existed.
The choreography shifted again.
Jiwoo took center.
The beat softened.
His movements slowed, breath falling perfectly into rhythm.
"Numb… numb… numb…"
Each repetition quieter.
More hollow.
Taeyang watched from the side, chest rising and falling.
This is it.
This is who we are.
Then—
Kai stepped forward.
And everything—
Changed.
It wasn't dramatic.
Not loud.
Not forced.
Just—
Effortless.
His movements were smooth, controlled—every line clean without trying too hard.
A faint smile rested on his lips.
Not playful.
Not soft.
Confident.
Unshaken.
Like this stage—
This tiny, forgotten stage—
Had no power over him.
His eyes flickered toward the audience.
Thirty people.
Maybe less.
But the moment his face caught the light—
A ripple went through the crowd.
"…Wait."
"Who is that—?"
"He's—"
A girl near the front leaned forward, eyes widening.
"He's really handsome."
Another voice, quieter—
"No… seriously. How is he here?"
Even one of the staff by the side monitor blinked, leaning in slightly.
"…Did you see him earlier?"
"No—I would've remembered."
"…Then how did that company recruit him?"
On stage—
Kai didn't react.
Didn't acknowledge it.
Didn't need to.
He performed like it was a packed arena.
Like thousands of eyes were on him—
Even when there were barely any.
And somehow—
Now, there were.
Minho snapped into center next.
Sharp.
Explosive.
Every movement precise, grounded with force.
Frustration bled into his dancing—every hit harder, every step intentional.
If the stage wouldn't give him energy—
He would take it.
Taeyang stepped forward again.
Final chorus.
The music swelled—
Louder.
Fuller.
"I can't feel your love—!"
His voice rang out stronger now.
Not empty.
Not numb.
Burning.
"Nor can I love you—!"
It carried further this time.
Even into the back rows.
Even into the silence.
"Truly… I feel—"
The beat dropped.
"NOTHING!"
The formation locked.
Stillness.
Silence.
For half a second—
Nothing.
Then—
Applause.
Small.
Scattered.
But real.
And louder than before.
Taeyang's chest heaved.
His heart still raced—
But not from fear anymore.
Something else.
Something heavier.
Something quieter.
We did it.
He glanced at the members.
Kai—
A faint smirk on his lips.
Like he already knew.
Jiwoo—
Breathing hard, eyes bright.
Minho—
Jaw tight, but satisfied.
Seunghyun—
Relief written all over him.
Diego—
Grinning.
Like nothing had ever been wrong.
I'm still gonna kill that bastard! Taeyang thought.