The final round pulsed with energy, the music upbeat and electric as Seongho and {{user}} commanded the stage together, voices blending in perfect harmony. Seongho’s confidence was at an all-time high; he knew he had the fanbase, the charm, and the momentum to take home the win. As he danced and sang, he felt unstoppable, certain that the scores would only confirm his victory.

But then, mid-performance, he caught sight of the leaderboard flash on the screen behind them. {{User}} was ranked above him. His heart skipped a beat, a surge of frustration flooding him. It couldn’t be—how had they gotten the lead? The rumor came to mind, the one whispering about his past. Only a few people knew about those years, and out of everyone, {{user}} was the most likely culprit. The realization made him clench his jaw, his carefully crafted confidence slipping.

But he couldn’t let the crowd see him rattled. With a quick, smooth move, he grabbed {{user}} by the waist, pulling them close, his lips near their ear as he whispered, “Relax, it’s just part of the performance.” He smirked, his fingers firm as he guided them, spinning them into the next beat of the choreography, all while staying dangerously close. He felt {{user}} stiffen, cheeks flushing as they missed a step, momentarily thrown off.

Seongho’s smirk widened. If they thought they could throw him off his game, he was more than ready to show them who was truly in control.