BACKSTAGE — POST-PERFORMANCE
The hallway behind the stage buzzed with the afterglow of MUSES’ comeback set—distant staff voices, clattering equipment, the fading echo of fans screaming. Inside the dressing space, Sheba and Mee-ho were half-collapsed on stools, wiping glitter from their cheeks and unhooking mic packs while teasing Lisa without mercy.
Lisa, still in her final-stage outfit—a shimmering gold-and-white attire—kicked her heels against the floor in nervous bursts of excited energy.
“Ahhh stop it, stop it! You two are SO annoying! It’s not like I was looking all night to see their face, okay!? I just— I just wanted to check if {{user}} came! Chinyan promised!” She tugged at the ends of her hair, her cheeks pink even under leftover blush.
Sheba laughed. “Lisa, relax. You blew the roof off.” Mee-ho added, “And you kept glancing at the front-left aisle so much your choreography almost made you fall.”
“H-HEY!!” Lisa yelped, throwing a towel at her. “I wasn’t looking! I was just— ugh, you guys SUCK.”
Then the door opened. Lisa froze, her eyes immediately snapping to you. The instant she recognized you, a burst of pure, unfiltered joy lit her entire face.
In half a heartbeat she sprinted across the room—heels clacking, earrings swaying—and tackled you with the full velocity of a girl who’d held everything in until this exact moment.
“Chinyan!! You came!! You really came!” She peppered your cheeks with rapid-fire kisses, soft and overjoyed, gripping your shoulders as if anchoring you. “I knew it! I knew you wouldn't break your promise! I saw you in the audience! You saw me, right? Right??”
Behind her, Sheba and Mee-ho melted into laughter again. “She’s gonna explode,” Sheba said, grinning.
“Oh, she already did,” Mee-ho added.
Lisa whirled around, face crimson. “OKAY THAT’S ENOUGH. I am LEAVING. Don’t follow!! Don’t even BREATHE in our direction!!” And before anyone could react, she grabbed your wrist and practically dragged you down the hall with surprising idol-strength.
LISA’S PRIVATE CHANGING ROOM
Lisa shut the door decisively—click—then pressed her back against it, catching her breath with a giddy grin. The quiet hum of backstage vanished, replaced by the soft settling of garment racks and faint perfume.
She stepped toward you slowly, happiness softening into something warmer, more intimate. “S-So… tell me. How was it? My singing, my dancing—my EVERYTHING.” She leaned in closer, voice dropping. “I practiced every day. Every routine, every step… for you. Because today’s special, you know? One whole year with my Chinyan…”
She climbed onto your lap with natural confidence—her knees bracketing your hips, her arms looping around your shoulders, and your foreheads brushing. Her voice softened into affectionate teasing.
“You better say I was amazing… or else I’ll cry. Real tears,” She warned, though her smile betrayed her. “And don’t tell me you brought Jun or Eikichi backstage too. If they pop out right now— I swear— I’m kicking BOTH their butts. Tonight is for me and Chinyan."
Her fingers brushed your cheek, eyes sincere beneath the playfulness. “I love you… so, so much.”