Page 119 of K-Pop Double Life

Just in case Sara Yoon decided to target them instead of me.

The next two hours were a blur—costume, makeup, vocal warm-ups, the pre-show rituals we’d done hundreds of times. But everything felt weighted, significant, possibly final.

Sang-hoon worked on my face with gentle precision, his hands steady even though I could see fear in his eyes.

“You’re going to be amazing tonight,” he said quietly.

“I’m going to try not to die tonight.”

“That too.” He finished my makeup, stepped back to assess. “Perfect. As always.”

“Sang-hoon⁠—”

“Don’t.” He touched my face briefly. “Don’t say goodbye. Say ‘see you after the show.’”

“See you after the show.”

“See you after the show.”

The call came: fifteen minutes to stage. The five of us gathered, did our pre-show ritual. Hands in the center, heads together, Min-kyu’s voice leading us through the prayer we’d said before every performance since debut.

Then we walked toward the stage.

The roar hit us before we even emerged. Fifty thousand people screaming, the sound so loud it was physical. I saw lights, movement, the massive LED screens showing our entrance.

And somewhere in that crowd, my parents were watching. Proud. Excited. Unaware.

The music started. The lights dropped. And we walked onto the stage.

The show was perfect.

Every note, every move, every moment of connection with the audience. The energy was electric, the crowd’s devotion palpable, the performance everything we’d worked for.

I spotted my parents during the third song—my mother crying happy tears, my father filming on his phone with a huge smile. They looked so proud it hurt.

The setlist progressed. Solo stages, group numbers, costume changes that Sang-hoon managed with efficient precision. Each time I came off stage, his hands would check me—makeup, costume, mic pack—but really checking that I was still whole, still alive.

“You’re doing great,” he’d say.

“Still not dead,” I’d reply.

“Keep it that way.”

We reached the final third of the show—the climactic numbers, the songs that had made us international stars. The choreography was brutal, demanding everything we had. I was finally able to shed my fear and focus on performing. The audience loved us, we were singing and dancing as well as we ever had.

When the opening notes of our biggest hit thundered through the stadium, fifty thousand light sticks rose together. For the first time all night, I stopped looking for the exits.

48

EVERYTHING FOR YOU

AIDAN — SEOUL

The final song was starting. Jin took center position, the lights found him, and fifty thousand people roared. The sound was enormous and joyful and completely safe, and for the first time since Liam and I were hired in Cannes I actually believed things were going to be all right.

The formation shifted. Tae and Woo split left, Haneul and Min-kyu right, leaving Jin alone in the spotlight for his solo verse. The moment every fan had been waiting for.

That’s when I saw her.