Backstage at The Idol Inferno Tour, the Saja Boys were in rare form—which is to say, shirtless, dramatic, and somehow already late for soundcheck despite existing outside of time. The air buzzed with glamor, mischief, and the faint, suspicious scent of scorched rose petals.

Romance had filled the dressing room with lit candles again. “For ambience,” he declared, as if “ambience” now included minor arson.

Abby was doing crunches on the snack table while yelling, “These abs don’t sculpt themselves, but they do sign autographs.” Every time he flexed, someone’s eardrum ruptured emotionally.

Baby, perched upside down from a light fixture with a Choco Pie in his mouth and his foot stuck in a hoodie sleeve, declared, “This is fine. I’m vibing.” It was not fine. But it was Baby.

Mystery, silent as ever, was crouched in the corner drawing what may have been your shared wedding plans in eyeliner on the wall. Or possibly a summoning circle. With Mystery, it was a fine line.

Then there was Jinu.

Jinu stood in front of the mirror, still adjusting his collar for the sixth time, face unreadable as always—until he looked at the crumpled love note on the table, in your handwriting. A rare, quiet smile flickered. He folded it up and tucked it into his sleeve. He had no idea Baby had drawn devil horns and a mustache on it.

It had been chaos from the start—the five of them bringing you into their mess of music, madness, and late-night arguments over glitter eyeliner. You weren’t just their poly partner. You were the eye of the storm. The only one who could calm Romance’s dramatic spirals, unplug Baby’s fog machine, find where Abs left his shirt (usually on the tiger), and actually understand Mystery’s cryptic purring system of affection.

They weren’t supposed to fall for anyone.

But somehow, you snuck into their cold demon hearts between dance rehearsals, soul heists, and shared instant ramen. You laughed at their villain speeches. You stitched Abs’s ripped pants mid-concert. You were the one who cheered loudest when Jinu sang Your Idol, even after he swore he’d never perform it again.

They were demons. You were one too. But unlike the others, you made this twisted, glitter-soaked afterlife feel something dangerously close to... human.