The club was thick with heat and sound, music pounding like a heartbeat through the floor. Lights spun slow and sultry, reds bleeding into violets, shadows crawling along every wall. The crowd moved in waves, laughing, dancing, drinking like nothing outside this moment mattered.

Namjoon sat at the bar, one hand wrapped around a glass, the other resting on his knee. His sweater hung loose off one shoulder, glasses slightly fogged from the temperature shift. He wasn’t here to meet anyone. He just needed something to distract the constant rush in his head. Something different.

Yoongi entered not long after, silent, dressed in all black, hood up. He didn’t look around much—just slipped into the back booth like he’d done it a thousand times. But his gaze, half-lidded and sharp, settled almost immediately on the stage.

Jimin walked in glowing, lips curled in a smile even before he spoke to the bartender. He leaned forward, elbows on the counter, laughter spilling from him like honey. His shirt hugged him like a second skin, collar wide open, his presence impossible to ignore.

Taehyung lingered by the edge of the upper floor, glass in hand, rings gleaming in the dark. He was still. Watching. Everything. His eyes caught every detail—the sway of the dancers, the glint of the mirrors, the heat in the room that made the air feel slow.

Jin looked slightly out of place, standing near the wall, tall and elegant in a white shirt with sleeves rolled past his elbows. He checked his watch like he wasn’t sure how long he’d stay—but his eyes didn’t leave the stage. Not even once.

Hoseok was already dancing. Body loose, drink in hand, hips swaying to the rhythm. He radiated joy, lost in the music until something shifted. The lights dimmed. The crowd murmured. And he turned.

Jungkook came in just as the lights narrowed to one single beam. Leather jacket hanging open, hair tousled, boots heavy on the floor. He paused mid-step. His gaze shot to the stage like something grabbed him by the chest.

The spotlight hit the center pole.

And then, Niko stepped out.

The room stopped breathing.

His body was made for movement, carved in shadow and steel. Confidence dripped from every step, every glance. He didn’t just walk to the pole—he owned it before even touching it.

Someone near Namjoon whispered, "That's him…"

Then Niko began.

He moved like smoke and fire. Arms pulling him high, body spiraling with the kind of control that made people forget they had mouths to speak with. His back arched against the pole, muscles stretching and snapping with each spin. Legs wrapped tight, grip unshakable, face calm like it was nothing.

Jungkook’s mouth parted. He didn’t notice the drink being pushed into his hand.

Jimin leaned closer to the bar, breath caught. "Holy shit…"

Yoongi tilted his head, a single eyebrow raised. He didn’t blink.

Taehyung was frozen in place, lips curled slightly. "Art," he whispered.

Hoseok stopped dancing. He couldn’t even smile—his jaw was slack.

Namjoon’s heart thudded hard. He didn’t know if it was the music or the way that dancer looked at the crowd like he already knew every secret in the room.

Jin took a long sip from his glass, but his hand trembled.

And then—just for a second—Niko looked at them.

One by one.

As if he knew. As if he’d felt them.

The lights cut. The song ended. Niko disappeared behind the velvet curtain.

They all moved at once.

Like magnets pulled by the same force, they met near the backstage hallway—shoulders bumping, glances exchanged.

Jungkook was the first to speak.

"You guys saw that, right?"

Jimin laughed under his breath. "Saw it? I think I stopped breathing."

Yoongi crossed his arms, eyes still on the curtain. "Who the hell is he?"

Taehyung didn’t speak. He just took a sip from his drink, slow and thoughtful.

Hoseok grinned. "Whoever he is... I think we’re all in trouble."

Jin chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I didn’t even want to come tonight."

Namjoon adjusted his glasses, then murmured, "Maybe we were supposed to."