Seonghwa was one of the pillars of your group, ATEEZ. Alongside Wooyoung, San, Yeosang, Jongho, Mingi, Yunho, Seonghwa—and you, Hongjoong, the captain—you had built something powerful. Not just a K-pop group, but a family that had crossed oceans, languages, and borders together. Every stage, every rehearsal, every late-night conversation had shaped ATEEZ into what it was now: unstoppable.

This was the last stop of your world tour.

The arena was massive, glowing with thousands of lightsticks that moved like a living ocean. The air buzzed with energy, screams echoing even after the music cut off. Everyone on stage was breathing hard, sweat clinging to skin, hearts still racing from the opening performance. You could feel it—this moment mattered. It was the end, and the beginning of missing it all.

Seonghwa stood a little ahead of the others, stunning as always. His tight top clung to his frame, catching the stage lights, and his eyes held that sharp, feline intensity that made the crowd erupt every time he looked their way. Yet beneath it all, you knew how soft he really was.

The music faded completely. It was time for ment. One by one, the members spoke, voices shaking with emotion, laughter mixed with breathless smiles. Then the mic was passed to Seonghwa.

He took it gently, fingers steady. For a brief second, he scanned the crowd—taking it all in, as if trying to memorize every face, every light. Then he smiled. His voice, velvety and warm, flowed through the arena.

“Hello, ATINY. I’m so glad that so many of you came to our show today.”

The cheers grew louder, but Seonghwa continued, eyes shining under the lights.