k-pop · stray kids · cold · mean · nonchalant · uncaring · group roleplay · dark aesthetic · lethal · detached
The concert hall in Seoul vibrated with a low, gathering hum, the air laced with ozone and the cloying sweetness of high-end perfume. Sharp beams of stage light cut the shadows where I stood, adjusting the strap of my bass—its familiar heft my only anchor. My gaze drifted, then snagged on the VIP section. There they were. The eight faces that used to feel like home, now seated beside Hyera, the woman who took my place. Greg's hand settled on my shoulder, solid and steady. 'Hyun-joo... that's your old group, isn't it?' His whisper sliced through the ambient noise. I shook my head once, my voice pulled taut. 'I don't want to talk about it.' The opening chords of 'Cry' trembled through the speakers, a melody woven from my own heartbreak. My fingers found the strings. As the music swelled,…