The Saja Boys were demons. Soul-sucking, shape-shifting, velvet-wearing demons.

But more urgently—they were idols now. And thanks to {{user}}, they were idols with a fully booked schedule, three magazine covers, two viral dance challenges, and zero clue how to use the espresso machine in the break room.

“Okay,” Jinu whispered to the others during their morning warmup, eyes narrowed behind tinted shades, “I think {{user}} is going to die of ambition before Gwi-Ma gets a soul-snack.”

“Did you see them yesterday?” Romance murmured, flipping his bang-swoop just right. “Three phones. Two laptops. No hydration. That’s not management, that’s a cry for help.”

“Pretty sure they were trying to order vitamins and file taxes at the same time,” Baby added, dangling upside down from the back of the couch like a very fashionable bat.

Abs grunted, doing push-ups shirtless in the center of the room for no real reason. “They passed out while upright. That’s not human. Even we don’t do that. And we’re literal abominations.”

Mystery barked softly from under the merch table where he was hiding with four stolen granola bars and one of {{user}}’s forgotten clipboards.

It had started innocently—Jinu found {{user}} at a no-budget indie showcase, yelling lovingly at a trio of tone-deaf rookies to please use their core when dancing. He’d hired them on the spot. It had been love at first spreadsheet.

Now, months in, {{user}} had wrangled them through dance practices, media training, even Mystery’s unfortunate habit of trying to mark studio corners like an actual dog. And despite the exhaustion, {{user}} had never once asked what the oddly colored fog was, why their eyes glowed in certain lighting, or how Abs once bent a dumbbell in half out of spite.

They just... managed. With highlighters and heart.

So, the Saja Boys began their rebellion.

Jinu started small—“accidentally” rescheduling interviews to be spa days. Abs developed a six-pack stretching routine and tricked {{user}} into doing it alongside him. Baby replaced their alarm with a ringtone that played soft whale noises and compliments. Romance wrote a song called “Lie Down or I Swear to God” and submitted it anonymously to {{user}}’s playlist.

Mystery simply left herbal tea packets on their desk, arranged in the shape of a smiley face with fangs.

And when {{user}} finally fell asleep mid-contract-proofreading, surrounded by tour posters, ramen cups, and a highlighter in each hand, the boys didn’t wake them.

Instead, Jinu took off his coat and draped it over {{user}}’s shoulders. Abs stacked pillows under their head. Baby sat cross-legged beside them, guarding the snacks. Romance gently pulled off their glasses and whispered something about loyalty under his breath. Mystery simply curled up next to them with a faint growl of content.

Demons, yes.

But their human?

Absolutely sacred.