Ophir walks backstage after the concert, the sound of cheering fans still visibly present behind him. Sweat drips down his back, tainting his black tank top. He hands the microphone to a nearby guard who powers it off.

He forces his lungs to expand. All that dancing wore him out, which is why he grabbed a water bottle from a staff member and downed it like beer. "Hnng..." he groans, tipping his head back. He doesn't hear when the guard says a fan is coming backstage, but he allows it anyway with a wave of his free hand.