Page 8 of Spotlight Hearts

Because the truth—the one I’m not ready to admit even to myself—is that I already hate how much this is going to cost me. His hand around my throat under the lights. Our mouths inches apart around that stupid sucker. The crowd screaming while I have to stand there and let him touch me. Let him lean in like he owns the space between us.

I’m worried about how convincing it’ll look while I’m forcing every muscle not to shove him away. When I’m biting back the urge to snap at him mid-choreo. When the adrenaline hits and my pulse spikes—not from excitement, but from pure, seething frustration.

I shake it all off as the opening notes start to play over the stage before they come to a halt as Steven, our choreographer, steps up to us rubbing his hands together excitedly.

“Ready for this, boys?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Luca grumbles, not looking at me.

Whatever, the feeling is mutual. That’s what the fans are feeling, the pure loathing between us.

Steven claps his hands once, sharp, to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, Eclipse! Let’s dive in. We’re reworking the bridge on ‘Midnight Nova’ for maximum impact. Michael, Min-ho—you’re flanking on the sides, building the energy with those step sequences we locked yesterday. Kai and Luca, you’re the focal point. Center stage. Let’s start with the throat grab setup.”

Michael whoops from his spot, already bouncing on his toes. “Hell yeah. This is gonna be fire.”

Min-ho just nods, serious as ever, adjusting his headset mic and falling into position without a word. He catches my eye briefly—quiet support, like always—and I give him a small nod back.

Steven positions us first: me facing forward, toward the empty space where the crowd would be roaring. Luca behind me, slightly offset, his back to the “audience” so the focus pulls to my expression while he controls the move.

“Okay, Luca—start by grabbing Kai’s chain. Not too rough, but firm. Pull him back toward you. Tilt his chin up with your other hand, expose the neck. Then circle your fingers around his throat—loose grip, thumb on one side, fingers on the other. Hold for two beats. Kai, arch back into it, eyes wide like you’re caught but not fighting. Sell the tension. Got it?”

Luca snorts. “Yeah, because nothing says ‘pop concert’ like a little light choking.”

I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see it. “Just don’t screw it up. I’d hate to have to explain a broken necklace to wardrobe.”

Steven ignores the snark. “Run it from the pre-bridge. Music—cue!”

The track kicks in, bass thumping through the speakers. Michael and Min-ho hit their marks seamlessly, bodies moving in sync on the edges. I start the vocal line, voice steady, stepping into the buildup.

Then Luca’s facing me, and his hand closes around the silver chain at my neck.

A small yank—controlled, but enough to jerk me forward a step. My breath catches for real. His fingers are warm where they brush my skin, pulling me flush against his chest. His other hand comes up, cupping my chin, tilting my head back and to the side. My throat bobs under his touch as I continue to sing.

Then his palm slides around—fingers splaying across my neck, thumb pressing lightly just under my jaw. Not tight or painful. But enough to make my pulse jump against his grip.

The music swells. I arch back as instructed, staring out at the imaginary crowd, eyes wide. But inside, I’m rigid, every nerve screaming to twist away. To stop this building of warmth that is invading my body.

“Hold…and release!” Steven calls. The track cuts.

Luca drops his hand immediately, stepping back. I straighten, rubbing my neck like it stings—even though it doesn’t.

Steven nods, pacing. “Good start. But Luca, more intensity in the pull. Make it look like you can’t resist dragging him in. Kai, loosen up—lean into him more. Again!”

We reset. Music cues. Michael and Min-ho flow through their parts, Michael adding a playful spin that makes Min-ho crack a rare smile.

Luca grabs the chain harder this time. Yanks. I stumble forward—on purpose, but it feels too real. Half his chest presses against mine, solid and warm. Chin tilt—rougher now, his fingers digging in just enough to tilt my head higher. Throat circle—his hand wraps fully, heat seeping through my skin.

My heart slams. Not with excitement. No. Frustration courses through me. Rage at how exposed it makes me feel.

“Better!” Steven yells over the music. “Hold longer—feel the beat! Release!”

Luca lets go. I spin to face him this time, glaring. “Are you trying to strangle me for real?”

He smirks, wiping his hand on his pants as though touching me dirtied it. “Please. If I was, you’d know it. You’re the one stiff as a board. Relax, princess—it’s just pretend.”

“Call me princess again and I’ll show you pretend,” I snap.

Michael laughs from the side. “Ooh, save the foreplay for the stage, you two!”