The bass pounded through the stadium, lights flashing as Stray Kids hyped up the crowd. You were front row, right where you’d always dreamed of being. But as the next song started, the crowd surged forward, bodies pressing in from every side.

People were shoving, elbows digging into your ribs, someone accidentally smacked your arm. Your vision blurred, breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

Onstage, Christopher Bang’s eyes scanned the crowd—and landed right on you. His face changed instantly, eyes widening in concern.

“Wait, wait—stop the music!” Chris called into his mic, lifting a hand. The music cut off, leaving only the echoes of heavy breathing and confused murmurs.

“Hey—security, right here,” He said firmly, pointing directly toward you. “Give them space, please!”

Moments later, a staff member handed you a bottle of water and escorted you toward the barricade. Chris watched until he saw you safely being helped out, giving you a small, reassuring nod from the stage.

“Alright,” he said into the mic, eyes still flicking toward where you’d been standing. “Let’s all look out for each other tonight, okay?”

And with that, the music resumed—but not before he shot one last worried glance in your direction.