Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
The crowd density was wrong at LAX.
I counted the phones first. Eighteen raised above heads in the front row. Twenty-three visible bodies pressed against soft barriers designed for queuing, not containment. And more behind them, unseen.
We’d planned for fifty people.
As we rounded a corner, I realized the total crowd was over three times that. The noise followed, voices layered over each other in Korean and English, rising in pitch as the formation came into view.
I was three bodies back from Rune in the formation. Too far.
Kang led point with two local security contractors I didn’t know. Soyeon and another handler flanked the band members.
It would have worked in a controlled environment. This was far from controlled.
"Kang." I was just loud enough for him to hear. "Density's too high."
He didn't turn around. He spoke sharply into his radio in Korean. Someone responded. He didn't like the answer.
I closed the gap between myself and Rune, an instinctive response. His shoulders were tight under his oversized hoodie, head down, earbuds in. He was bracing for impact.
I wanted to put my hand on his spine. Ground him the way I had in San Francisco and Portland. Let him feel he wasn't alone.
Couldn't. Not here. Not where cameras would catch it and turn my touch into another narrative.
The barricades were twenty feet ahead. Bodies pressed forward, phones extended like offerings. Taemin was beside Rune, already performing trademark smiles. Jinwoo set his jaw. Minjae looked young and overwhelmed.
The first breach happened at the left barricade.
A girl in a Violet Frequency tour shirt ducked under the retractable belt. The contractor nearest her reached out to redirect, but hesitated. I knew he didn't want to put his hands on a fan. It would be bad optics. She slipped past him.
Two more followed.
Containment collapsed.
Voices escalated from calls to shouts. They called out "Rune!" and "Taemin!" The soft barriers buckled.
Screams of excitement broke out. Bodies surged forward, pressure coming from behind.
Kang barked into his radio. I heard the strain in his voice.
A handler froze. She stopped moving, overwhelmed by the compression of bodies and noise.
"Tighten formation!" I shouted, loud enough to cut through the chaos. "Hands up, no contact, keep moving forward."
I stepped into the gap the frozen handler left, angling my body to create a moving barrier. My voice stayed firm and calm even as my pulse raced. "Step back, please. We need clear passage."
Some people listened. Most didn't.
A fan stumbled at the right barricade. The ripple effect pushed three more forward. A phone clattered to the ground. A scream of fear rose.
I lost sight of Rune.
Five seconds.
My chest locked up.
Every worst-case scenario flashed through my mind—someone's hand on him, grabbing and pulling, sending him down under the surge. Trampled. Crushed.
I shoved forward through the gap, one hand on the shoulder of the contractor ahead to signal my trajectory, the other clearing space. Professional. Controlled.
Terrified.
I found Rune. He'd stopped walking. Soyeon was trying to shield him while moving forward, and it wasn't working. He'd frozen how prey animals do when they realize continued motion won't save them. He'd pulled his hoodie back, and his eyes were wide, breathing shallow.
I reached him in three strides, placing my hand on his spine. He inhaled sharply.
"Walk," I said directly into his ear. "Steady pace. Don't stop. I'm right here."
He started walking again.
The corridor opened up beyond the checkpoint. The crowd thinned. It wasn't entirely safe yet, but I knew it was survivable.
We cleared the threshold. Made it to the secure space beyond the checkpoint. The noise dropped away as a door sealed behind us.
I counted. Jinwoo, Taemin, Minjae, and Rune. All present. Handlers accounted for. No visible injuries.
Kang was on his phone, speaking Korean in clipped, professional tones. Damage control.
Soyeon exhaled hard and looked at her tablet.
I checked Rune. It was professional, a visual sweep, assessing for injury or shock. Whole. Safe. Still here.
His eyes met mine. I saw the adrenaline underneath the composure. He tried to steady his hands, but didn't quite manage it. Saw the question he couldn't ask and the answer I couldn't give.
Are you okay?
No. Are you?
No.
We couldn't do more. Everything was already in motion again. Handlers directed the band members toward the exit. Vehicles were waiting.
I thought about who wasn't there.
Soo-jin.
He hadn't been in the corridor. He didn't appear during the breach, and he wasn't part of the recovery.
In Portland, he'd told me people get hurt when the system breaks down.
No injuries here, but it was close enough.
Kang ended his call. Looked at me for the first time since we'd cleared the threshold. His expression was carefully neutral.
"Good work," he said in English. Then he switched to Korean, speaking to the local contractors.
I watched him walk away, already managing the next crisis. A PR statement went out before we reached the vehicles.
Soyeon typed on her tablet while walking, fingers moving fast. The words ignored what I'd witnessed.
Violet Frequency thanks LA fans for the incredible airport welcome! Your energy and love mean everything. See you tonight at the show!
Accompanied by a photo taken mid-breach, cropped to look like enthusiasm instead of chaos.
The vans idled in the secure loading zone. We loaded efficiently.
I ended up in van two with Rune, Taemin, and Minjae. Soyeon took the front passenger seat, still on her phone, managing the narrative in real-time.
Rune sat across from me in a rear-facing seat. When the van slowed, our knees bumped together and then separated. I watched the fine tremors in his hands when he pulled out his phone.
He stared out the window as the van pulled away from the terminal, watching LAX disappear into heavy afternoon traffic on the 105. His reflection in the glass showed hollowed-out exhaustion.
I wanted to reach across the narrow space and still the tremor in his hands.
I couldn't. Soyeon was three feet away. Taemin scrolled through fan reactions. Minjae curled himself into the corner, trying to make himself smaller.
Taemin showed something to Minjae, who smiled but didn't look convinced. "That was intense," Taemin said in English, voice light but eyes serious. "More people than Portland."
"LA always brings crowds," Soyeon said from the front seat. "It's normal."
Except it wasn't. The barricades had failed. That's how people in crowds were crushed.
Minjae was too quiet. I'd seen him during the surge, eyes wide, terror creeping in around the edges. He'd kept going because Jinwoo grabbed his arm and yanked him forward.
Now he sat with his hands folded in his lap, staring at nothing.
"You okay?" I asked him in Korean. I had limited vocabulary in the language, but this was enough.
He nodded quickly. "Fine."
He wasn't fine. None of them were.
Taemin started talking about the venue, asking Soyeon questions about the stage layout, anything to fill the space with words that weren't about what had just happened.
Rune's phone buzzed. He looked at it. His expression was carefully neutral, the mask sliding back into place, and he typed something back.
I knew who it had been.
Soo-jin.
Checking in. The message would be gentle. Concerned. Framed as care.
I watched Rune delete the message thread. Not read-and-archive. Delete.
The van merged onto the 10 freeway. LA spread out around us, sprawling, with afternoon sun glinting off glass towers. The handlers reviewed the schedule, confirming the call times. Standard procedure. Everything was back to normal.
Rune's fingers drummed against the leather in an anxious pattern I'd learned to recognize. Three taps, pause, two taps. Repeat.
I wanted to cover his hand with mine. I pushed my knees forward slightly.
Rune's eyes flicked down. Saw the movement. His drumming fingers stopped.
He shifted forward, our knees touching, and then shifted back as the van took a turn.
I checked my phone.
Eamon: Saw the arrival footage. You good?
Eamon: Call when you can.
Griffin: Fine. Contained. Will call after load-in.
The van pulled off the freeway. We were close now, fifteen minutes to the venue. The Forum rose ahead, white and imposing against the LA skyline.
The crew was already moving equipment. Trucks backed up to the loading bays.
Soo-jin still hadn't appeared. Staffers would have notified him immediately, and he would have seen the footage.
He'd chosen absence… as a strategy.
He didn't appear during moments of disorder because his presence wasn't useful then. He appeared afterwards, with everyone rattled, uncertain, and looking for a steady hand. When the script of this is why we need structure would land hardest.
The van turned into the venue's loading area. Doors opened. Taemin and Minjae climbed out. Soyeon on their heels.
Rune paused at the threshold. Glanced back at me.
I saw the question in his eyes: What happens next?
I didn't have an answer that wouldn't terrify him.
***
I normally would have gone to the production office with the rest of the detail. Kang headed in that direction, trailed by the local contractors.
Something pulled me toward the stage instead. Perhaps it was a familiar need to see the space for myself and understand sight lines and fall zones before trusting someone else's assessment.
The Forum was massive. Nearly eighteen thousand seats, circular, with sightlines that wrapped the stage in complicated arcs.
The loading dock was all motion and metal. Forklifts reversing, crew calling measurements in English and Korean, and the industrial scrape of truss sections being assembled. Radio chatter bled across multiple frequencies, production and security comms layering into white noise.
I stayed out of the way. Observed.