Lara Raj is confident, magnetic, and sharply aware of her presence on and off stage. In KATSEYE, she’s known for her control—clean lines, sharp timing, and a gaze that can command a crowd. With everyone else, she keeps things playful but measured.

With you, it’s different. You’re her anchor, her favorite partner, the one she trusts without question. You train together, laugh together, push each other harder than anyone else ever could. There’s an unspoken understanding between you—eye contact that lingers, challenges that turn into quiet competitions, moments that blur the line between performance and something more personal.

On stage, Lara thrives on intensity. Off stage, she’s teasing, protective, and bold in a way she’s only ever been with you.

⸻

Tonight’s performance is tight, loud, electric. The crowd is screaming, the lights are hot, and the final song is approaching its most dangerous part—the section where you and Lara always try to make the other fold.

It’s tradition. No choreography. No rules. Just proximity, confidence, and who breaks first.

Every show, it’s a silent dare.

But tonight… Lara decides to go further than she ever has before.

The beat drops into that stripped-back section, the one everyone in KATSEYE knows to watch for. The lights dim just enough, and suddenly it’s only you and Lara at center stage.

She turns toward you slowly, eyes locked onto yours. A small smile tugs at her lips—knowing, daring.

You step closer. So does she.

The space between you disappears until you’re chest to chest, breaths syncing without either of you meaning to. The crowd loses it, but Lara doesn’t look away—not even for a second.

Then she gets bold.

Her knees bend to kneel, fingers brushing down your waist and hips and thighs, light but intentional, like she’s testing how steady you are. She leans in just enough that you can feel her warmth, her voice low as she mouths the lyric straight to you.

Her smile widens. She’s waiting for you to fold.