The studio felt heavy.
Like somebody had sucked all the oxygen out and replaced it with philosophy.
Everyone was sitting there in their own dramatic slow-motion montage, staring into the middle distance like they were about to drop a Grammy-winning diss track about morality.
The entity that is art.
The audacity.
The blasphemy.
The capitalism.
Very serious. Very brooding. Very "we are contemplating the meaning of existence."
And then—
"YASSSSSSS!"
The collective mood shattered like a record scratch in a 2007 teen movie.
You could practically hear the DJ rewind.
Everyone's heads snapped toward the mirror.
There stood Kitty.
Glowing.
Radiating.
Posing like Vogue personally owed him money.
He was mid–photoshoot, phone held high, body angled at a mathematically precise 37-degree tilt. The man had just finished his makeup and was admiring it like Michelangelo staring at the Sistine Chapel.
Except the Sistine Chapel didn't serve cheekbones like that.
Click.
Click.
Click.
An obscene number of selfies were taken.
Kitty adjusted his jawline. Smoldered. Gave mysterious. Gave expensive heartbreak.
Halfway through his self-love ceremony, he felt it.
The stares.
Multiple.
Burning holes into his absolutely sculpted back.
He froze.
Slowly turned.
And—
"HAH!"
He jumped back dramatically, hand slapping against his chest with the most cuntiest gasp known to mankind.
Rule number one: always serve.
Even when startled.
Make it fashion.
"Why do you all look like you've seen Shrek or something?" Kitty asked, blinking like a cornered yet glamorous feral kitten.
"It would've been better if that were the case," Yone replied dryly.
A few snorts escaped. The tension cracked just enough to let oxygen back in.
Kitty frowned. "Why do you wanna meet Shrek? Bitch, did I miss something?" He turned to the Kweens like they'd betrayed him at brunch.
"Nope. Not at all," Aqua said way too quickly. "We just watched E:Den's debut MV. Nothing important."
"Ohhhhh." Kitty's eyes widened. "That one with the ripped twinks?"
Silence.
"Oh that music video pissed me off royally, let me tell you." He flipped his hair like he was about to file a lawsuit. "Them twinks be acting straight, but I know my people. I KNOW my people."
He pointed at his own chest dramatically.
"All of them? Gay. As. Hell."
The room blinked.
Kitty lowered his voice like he was revealing classified government information. "I know my kind when I see one."
Pink choked.
"Bro—" Mika started.
"No, no," Kitty continued, pacing like a conspiracy theorist with a ring light. "You can't slither out a tree with glitter scales and whisper into a fake nun's ear like that and expect me to believe you pay taxes like a heterosexual."
Monarch wheezed.
Even Leo's brooding philosopher mode cracked.
Yone pinched the bridge of his nose. "That is not the takeaway."
"That is absolutely the takeaway," Kitty shot back. "And another thing—"
"Please don't," Aqua muttered.
"—if you're gonna blaspheme, at least make it couture. The scale makeup? Sloppy blend. I could do better with one brush and emotional damage."
That did it.
The studio erupted.
The gloom? Evicted.
The existential dread? Delayed.
Kang Ian wiped tears from his eyes. "You know what? I needed that."
Nox shook his head. "We're over here questioning the morality of art and you're mad about eyeliner."
"Because priorities," Kitty said firmly. "If we're going to war, at least let's win the makeup battle."
Yone exhaled slowly, but there was the faintest smirk tugging at his lips now.
"Alright," he said, clapping once. "Comedy hour's over."
Kitty raised a brow. "Comedy hour is never over."
Yone ignored him.
"We can't control what they do. We can't control how the public interprets it."
He looked around at his team.
"But we can control what we put on that stage."
The room shifted again.
This time—not heavy.
Focused.
Determined.
Kitty dramatically placed a hand on his hip.
"So what are we doing?" he asked. "Holy redemption arc? Celestial slay? Sexy but morally sound?"
Pink gasped. "Morally sound but make it cunty."
"That," Kitty said, pointing, "is branding."
And just like that?
The mood wasn't somber anymore.
It was strategic.
****
"I have a suggestion," Leo said, clearing his throat.
Immediately, every head turned.
"There's this one event in a game I was playing—"
"Leo…" Yone started, already bracing himself.
"Hold up, sexy leader. Let the gamer gremlin cook." Kitty slid between them like a glittery referee. He turned to Leo with dramatic reverence. "Proceed, our beloved gaming troll. Enlighten us."
Leo blinked.
His face clearly said: Do I feel honored or attacked right now?
"…Anyway," he continued, choosing dignity. "There's this event, right? In the game there's this huge banquet that players can attend. It's basically a party—but fantasy. Dramatic outfits. Long tables. Grand lighting. Everyone dressed like royalty or villains depending on their vibe."
He adjusted his glasses.
"So I thought… why don't we do a banquet concept? But make it a celebration. Lavish. Extravagant. Controlled chaos, but elegant."
There was a pause.
Then—
"Slaaaaaaay!" Kitty screamed, clapping like Leo had just invented oxygen. "Ten points for Gryffindor!"
"I'm actually Slytherin," Leo corrected automatically.
"It's fiction, honey. Same trauma, different house," Kitty waved off. "The point is—our gaming troll just cooked. And I'm smelling Michelin stars."
He spun toward Yone. "We're getting somewhere, right, sexy leader?"
Yone exhaled slowly, then nodded.
"I was wrong to interrupt you, Leo. I'm sorry." He gave him a small, genuine bow of acknowledgment. "That's a solid concept."
Leo's ears turned pink. "Psh. Don't mention it."
"Now!" Kitty clapped once. "Let's keep our testicles rolling!"
The room froze.
"…Honey," Javi said carefully, "do you mean 'the ball rolling'?"
Kitty turned to him slowly. Wide eyes. Unblinking.
"Did I stutter?"
Javi immediately looked down. "Nope."
"That's what I thought. Suggestions. Now."
Jordan timidly raised his hand like they were in class.
"Yes, baby?" Kitty cooed encouragingly.
"Well…" Jordan started, a little shy but steady. "Since we're performing in Korea, what if we do 'Masterpiece'? And let August, Ahn Jae, Kang Ian, Silas, and Mika take center focus."
He swallowed.
"They're the ones who've had direct issues with E:Den's leader. It would feel… personal. And 'Masterpiece' has that strong K-pop structure. It'll hit harder here."
"Ooooh." Kitty clasped his hands. "Me likey very much."
"I actually think that's the move," Eli said immediately, sliding an arm casually behind Jordan. "It fits the setting. And it sends a message without us saying anything outright."
Jordan's ears went red.
Leo nodded. "Banquet setting. 'Masterpiece' as the centerpiece track. Visually rich. Symbolic without being try-hard."
"Exactly," Aqua chimed in. "Instead of shock value, we go refinement. Power. Elegance."
Yone looked around at the group.
"I think it's strong," he said. "But I want to hear from the Salt x Bread unit."
All eyes shifted.
The tension this time wasn't heavy.
It was charged.
Strategic.
Kitty leaned dramatically against the mirror. "Come on, carbs and sodium. Feed us your wisdom."
"Guuuuurl!" Pink wheezed.
Now it was decision time.
Would they lean into spectacle?
Or weaponize grace?
Either way?
E:Den wouldn't see it coming.