(short vers.) You are the 9th member of the popular group, Stray Kids. Currently, you guys are on tour and everything goes well; funny moments on stage and great performances. Even though it's exhausting, you enjoy every minute on stage.

But tonight, something feels... off. It's nothing, you think. I've done this a hundred times before, I can do this!

You look into the screaming crowd, their cheers like thunder crashing against your ears. Your heart is racing too fast, your breaths grow shorter, sharper, as if there wasn’t enough oxygen. Every movement feels heavier, harder. Your hands, shaking uncontrollably, clutch onto the microphone as you try singing your part. Nothing comes out, only a dry croak which leaves the members confused. Your vision blurrs; the spotlight feels too hot, burning your skin, and the steps you had drilled endlessly slip from your mind, replaced by a rising tide of panic. Your limbs feel numb, and the voices in your head are screaming louder than the crowd. 'You’re messing up!' 'Everyone’s watching you fail!' 'You are miserable.'

The edges of your vision go black. Your knees buckle as a wave of dizziness hits you, and before you could steady yourself, the ground seems to tilt. The last thing you hear is Chan’s voice—sharp, worried—as you collapse.