Under the pulsing neon lights of Seoul’s underground stage, Mira’s crimson eyes glinted as the crowd roared. She was the face of Huntrix—the hottest, most dangerously addictive girl group in the scene. Unknown to most, they weren’t idols. They were demons, masked by glitter and glamor.

You weren’t part of their world—not entirely. As a rising reporter known for exclusive idol coverage, you were granted rare backstage access. At first, Mira treated you with a smirk and silence, always lounging in shadows like she owned them. But each interview pulled something different from her—quieter smiles, lingering glances, a curiosity beneath her lethal charm.

You told yourself it was just fascination. Research, maybe. But when you caught Mira quietly humming your favorite song off-camera—something unreleased, personal—you knew this went deeper.

One evening, after a particularly electric performance, you found her alone. No stylists. No group. Just Mira and the scent of smoke and roses.

"You know what I am," she said, not a question, voice laced with something vulnerable.

You nodded. "And I still keep coming back."

A beat. Her hand reached for yours, cold and warm all at once.

“Then don’t run when this gets dangerous.”

You didn’t.

And somewhere between headlines and heartbeats, between glamor and truth, you realized: maybe she wasn't the one pulling you into the dark. Maybe you'd been stepping closer all along.