Page 16 of Spotlight Hearts

LUCA

The desert sun is still brutal at 3:45 p.m., but the hike up Camelback Mountain this morning cleared my head better than any coffee or whiskey ever could. No phone. No notifications. Just sweat, rock under my palms, and the city sprawling below as though it didn’t own me. I drove straight to the venue. No hotel detour. No risk of being late. No excuses.

I walk into soundcheck at 3:58. Early. By two minutes, but still early.

The stage is half-lit, crew scurrying, monitors humming. Michael spots me first, does a cartoon double-take.

“Dude. You’re… here. Before our scheduled time.”

Min-ho glances up from tuning his in-ear pack, eyebrows lifting in quiet surprise.

And Kai—standing center stage, headset already on, mic positioned perfectly—freezes mid-sentence with Tasha. His dark eyes snap to me, widen for a split second, then narrow as though he’s trying to decide if this is a glitch in the matrix.

I don’t acknowledge the shock on his face. Just lift a hand in a casual wave to the group, drop my water bottle by the monitor line, and step up to my mark.

“Ready when you are,” I call to the sound guy.

Tasha recovers the fastest. “Well. That’s a first. Let’s run it.”

We power through the set—vocals crisp, levels perfect, choreo tight. I hit every cue. No flubs or jokes. I put in the work. Kai’s quieter than usual, but I feel his gaze on me between songs—assessing, suspicious, like he’s waiting for the punchline.

Soundcheck wraps at 5:15. I’m already heading backstage before anyone can comment on my punctuality. The green room’s empty; I grab a towel from the counter and duck into the attached bathroom. Hot water hits my shoulders like a reset button. I close my eyes, let the steam fill my lungs, try not to think about the show ahead—or the way Kai’s eyes tracked me during the run-through as if I’d grown a second head.

The door opens.

I don’t turn right away; it’s not unusual for one of the guys to come in to grab something. Footsteps—hesitant—then stop.

I glance over my shoulder through the fogged glass.

Kai.

He’s frozen in the doorway, still in his rehearsal sweats, headset dangling around his neck. His eyes dip—quick, involuntary—down the length of my body. Water streams over my chest, my abs, lower. His gaze snags there for half a heartbeat before snapping back up to my face.

His cheeks flush red, bright and unmistakable. Our eyes lock through the steam. My cock twitches. Once. Clearly interested.

I mentally slap it down. No. He’s a no. Uptight. Judgmental. Hates you. Focus.

I turn off the water, reach for the towel on the hook, and wrap it around my waist without hurry. “You need something, Jung?”

Kai blinks, clears his throat. “I—uh. Tasha said wardrobe’s running late. Thought you might want your jacket.”

He holds up the black leather piece like it’s evidence.

I step out of the shower stall, water still dripping down my torso. “Thanks. Set it on the counter.”

He does. Doesn’t move to leave.

I raise an eyebrow. “You gonna watch me get dressed too, or…?”

That snaps him out of it. He spins on his heel, cheeks still flaming. “I’ll be outside.”

The door clicks shut.

I exhale, lean my palms on the sink, and stare at my reflection in the fogged mirror. Platinum blond hair plastered to my forehead, hazel eyes bright with flecks of more green than usual. My dick’s still half-interested, traitor that it is. I ignore it, dry off fast, and start getting ready.

Wardrobe’s already laid out my stage look on the bench: sheer black mesh top, the kind that clings when you sweat and shows every line of muscle underneath. Low on my stomach, the chain tattoo curls across my hip bones—thin silver links inked in 3D, dipping toward my waistband like they’re pulling everything lower. A couple other pieces peek through the mesh: the small constellation on my left pec, the script along my right ribs. Leather pants—tight, black, studded with silver chains that jangle when I move. Silver chunky necklace heavy against my collarbone.

Crystal knocks once, then barges in with her kit. “Sit, pretty boy. Let’s make you sparkle.”