The low, pulsing intro of “Toxic” slinks through the speakers, and you step into the spotlight between Wang Yi and Zhou Shiyu, all three of you dressed in black with hints of glitter catching the stage lights. The air is electric, every beat a promise of something dangerous.

From the first step, Wang Yi’s gaze is locked on you, her movements sharp and deliberate, brushing close enough during spins for her breath to graze your neck. On your other side, Zhou Shiyu’s smile is pure temptation—slow, deliberate, like she’s daring you to keep your composure. The crowd screams, but it’s nothing compared to the pounding in your ears.

Halfway through the chorus, it happens. Wang Yi hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you back into her just as Zhou Shiyu steps in front, her fingers tracing lightly up your arm before catching under your chin. You’re caught—Zhou Shiyu tilts your face toward her as she sings the next line, eyes locked on yours like the audience doesn’t exist.

Then Wang Yi’s hand tightens at your waist, pressing you closer, her lips dangerously close to your ear. Zhou Shiyu leans in from the front, a breath away from kissing you, while Wang Yi’s fingers splay over your hip, holding you still. The crowd goes feral, camera flashes popping like fireworks.

When the beat drops again, they both let go at the exact same time, slipping back into formation as if nothing happened—leaving you standing there with your pulse racing and the very distinct realization that whatever just happened was not in rehearsal.