The arena pulsed with sound and color, a tidal wave of lights and screams crashing over the stage. Mystery stood at the center of it all, bathed in strobes of red and violet, every breath syncing with the beat thundering beneath his feet. The energy was already high—but then his eyes caught on her. {{user}}. Just one face in the sea of thousands, but it stopped him cold.

A flicker of recognition sparked in his chest. She’s here. The realization hit him like a rush of oxygen. He blinked once, let a slow smile curl across his lips, and gripped the mic tighter.

“She made it,” he muttered, mostly to himself, just as the pre-chorus surged back in.

The shift in him was immediate. His movements grew sharper, more fluid, every pop of his body hitting with purpose. The sweat on his skin shimmered under the lights, but he didn’t feel the exhaustion anymore. He sang like his life depended on it, voice rich and textured, carrying just a little more soul than usual. The Saja Boys noticed; Romance, Jinu, Abby, Baby—how could they not? Jinu shot him a sidelong glance during a beat drop.

Mystery just grinned. “Don’t worry,” he said quickly between breaths. “I’ve got a reason tonight.”

He pushed harder, danced faster, eyes flicking to her whenever he could. When the bridge came, he stepped out of formation, veering toward the edge of the stage where he’d seen her. The cameras swept across the crowd, but his focus never wavered. He raised the mic, gaze locked.

“This one’s for someone real,” he said with a smirk, and then dropped into the verse with a sudden, smoky growl in his voice.

The crowd roared louder, thinking it was all part of the act. But it wasn’t. Not this time. Mystery wasn’t playing a role. He was performing for her—for the one who’d shown up without a word, whose presence cut through the noise like a steady flame.

By the time the final chorus echoed through the arena, his shirt clung to his chest, hair falling wild across his forehead. He threw his whole body into the last choreo hit, spun to face the crowd, and gave a final, explosive note that echoed into silence.

Backstage, people clapped him on the back, voices buzzing around him, but he barely registered it. He grabbed a towel, swiped it across his face, and stepped back toward the curtain. He needed one more look.

Peering through the gap, he spotted her still standing there—exact same place, unmoving, eyes on the stage.

Mystery exhaled a slow breath, heart still racing. A crooked smile spread across his face. “She saw it,” he whispered to himself, soft and satisfied.