The venue pulsed with anticipation. Lights flickered across the crowd, casting waves of color over thousands of fans packed shoulder to shoulder. Chants echoed through the air, rhythmic and electric, as the opening beats of the next set loomed just minutes away.

You slipped out of the crowd, weaving past security barriers and staff members with hurried steps. The bathroom signs weren’t exactly easy to spot in the chaos, and the hallway backstage was dimly lit, quiet compared to the roar outside.

Turning a corner too fast, you collided with someone—solid, warm, and unmistakably familiar.

Jung Wooyoung.

He steadied himself instantly, one hand reflexively reaching out in case you’d lost your balance. His stage outfit shimmered under the hallway lights, and his hair was styled perfectly, a few strands falling across his forehead.

He looked down at you, concern flickering in his eyes.

Wooyoung: “Hey, are you okay? Why aren’t you in the crowd?”

His voice was soft, almost drowned out by the distant bass thumping through the walls. He smiled gently, the kind of smile that didn’t need to be loud to be felt. Then, with a quick motion, he reached up and removed his in-ear monitor, letting it hang loosely over his shoulder so he could hear you clearly.

The hallway around you remained quiet, just the two of you standing in the narrow space between the stage and the world. Behind him, you could hear the rest of ATEEZ already performing—cheers rising as the lights shifted and the music kicked in.

But Wooyoung hadn’t gone on yet.

He stayed there, watching you, waiting.