16
Dressed and ready for his performance, Tae Hyun found a vantage point backstage that offered a clear view of Sweet Beast ’s set. The atmosphere was electric, humming with chaotic energy from the massive crowd. You’d never know there’d been a protest raging outside just hours earlier. Those ten thousand screaming fans, packed into the arena to see their idols on stage, had easily drowned out all the hateful chants.
While Tae Hyun was thankful there’d been no real trouble, seeing the protestors and their awful signs cast a shadow over his pre-show excitement. The protesters, drawn by the lurid tabloid rumors of his affair with Ren, were scavengers, feasting on the scraps of scandal. In some ways, they were worse than the paparazzi–their words venomous, their hatred visceral. And he imagined it wouldn’t be his last tabloid rumor. He knew better than to believe that. There was always something. The tabloid press lived and died on idol gossip, and they ate well.
Images of Jason’s apology and Ren’s distant smile flashed through Tae Hyun’s mind like scenes from a disjointed movie. He was grateful for Jason’s willingness to smooth things over with Ren, yet the lingering tension between them weighed heavily on his shoulders.
Jason’s protectiveness and fierce loyalty were both a comfort and a source of frustration. He knew how quickly Jason could shift from charming boyfriend to a snarling wolf defending his territory, standing up to everyone who’d come for him–Ji Hoon, Min Su, and even his father. But Ren wasn’t one of those people and didn’t deserve that outburst. Not entirely. He’d simply misread their chemistry, turning it into attraction instead of friendship. His memories of watching Jason practically attack Ren at the dinner table still made him anxious.
Then again, Tae Hyun had been too quick to dismiss Jason’s concerns. He’d had plenty of time to think about it, reliving the argument as he lay alone in bed while Jason slept in another of the penthouse’s bedrooms. He’d been so caught up in the excitement of making a new friend, someone who seemed to understand the unique pressures of his world, that he’d momentarily forgotten the unconditional support Jason had always offered. The guilt lingered, a reminder of his flaws.
Because Jason wasn’t necessarily wrong. The tabloid photos could be explained away quickly enough–an innocent encounter twisted by a hungry press. But the rumors had to come from somewhere. Someone had whispered them into the ears of those eager reporters. And, while Ren seemed to be the victim, that someone could’ve easily come from Ren’s circle.
“There you are, sir.” Seong Min’s voice cut through the din, yanking Tae Hyun from his absent reverie.
“What’s up?”
Seong Min never quite achieved his brother’s stoicism, but his furrowed brow was a concerning sign. “There was some trouble in the audience–”
Tae Hyun’s breath hitched. “Trouble?”
Seong Min nodded. “Several audience members smuggled in fabric signs with hateful messages about Ren. But the venue security promptly removed them after other audience members singled them out.”
Tae Hyun’s frown mirrored Seong Min’s as he nodded back. Say what you would about an idol’s biggest fans, but their rabid support came in handy sometimes. “They had tickets?”
“Yes, sir.”
A cold dread sank over Tae Hyun. “So, there’ll be more of them.”
Seong Min’s silence was confirmation enough. “I wouldn’t be surprised. But we’ve added additional eyes on the crowd just in case.”
The audience suddenly roared to life, signaling the end of Sweet Beast ’s song. Ren’s voice boomed, leading the audience chant as the band launched into the next song in their set. Tae Hyun recognized it as the title track from their latest mini-album, which was his cue to join his dancers and prepare for his entrance.
“Walk me down to the staging area?”
Seong Min nodded, gesturing for Tae Hyun to lead the way.
“How’s Jason doing?” Tae Hyun asked over his shoulder as he vacated his quiet hiding place and found the ramp leading below the stage.
“He’s in your luxury box. Mina made sure they had a fully stocked bar.”
Tae Hyun snorted. “All she needed was a bottle of Kingston.”
“Yun Seo took care of that.”
“Good. ”
Tae Hyun found his dancers gathered near the stage lift, a flurry of activity swirling around them. Costume fitters made last-minute adjustments. Makeup artists dabbed at shiny foreheads. And the energy backstage crackled with a nervous anticipation. He caught the eye of his lead sound tech, nodding to signal that he was ready for his mic and ear monitors. Seong Min hovered nearby while Tae Hyun was fitted with his gear, departing once the stage manager called out a two-minute warning.
Then the backstage lights dimmed, and the lift descended, bringing Ren and Sweet Beast down from their exhilarating set. Ren’s face was alight, a manic energy buzzing around him as he jumped off the platform.
“Tae Hyun!” Ren exclaimed as he rushed over, breathless with excitement. “That crowd is amazing!” He threw his arms wide, excitedly grinning. “I’d hug you, but I’m all sweaty.”
“You guys sounded great,” Tae Hyun agreed. Ren’s enthusiasm was contagious. He doubted Ren had even noticed the hateful signs with the stage lights in his eyes. “Now it’s my turn.”
“Knock ‘em dead!” Ren lightly smacked Tae Hyun’s shoulder before rushing to his bandmates.
Tae Hyun chuckled as he stepped onto the lift with his playfully carousing dancers. They’d all talked about the protestors before their afternoon rehearsal. Tae Hyun also addressed the tabloid rumors, assuring his crew that they were totally false.
“Of course they are,” Daniel joked. “I mean, Ren’s cute and all. But he’s no Jason fucking Park.”
The lift jerked as it rose, forcing Tae Hyun to steady himself on Malik’s shoulder. Once on the darkened stage, the dancers took their positions while Tae Hyun walked forward to his mark. He settled into the first pose, waiting until he heard the countdown cue on his monitor.
Light exploded around Tae Hyun as the bassline from his opening song pounded in his chest. His lips curled into a confident smirk as he slinked forward in time to the music, the silvery sequins on his narrow vest shimmering like a thousand tiny stars. As the music enveloped him, he surrendered to the rhythm, the lyrics pouring out in a torrent of emotions. There was no protest. There was no trouble with Ren. There was no fight with Jason. There was only the music.
During the brief interlude of Worth It , a short, introspective spoken word track played over a darkened stage, Tae Hyun ducked behind a set piece for his first costume change. He emerged moments later, clad in tight, white leather pants and a bright white, sleeveless mesh top, a vision of angelic purity. He hit the stage just as the opening bars of Kaleidoscope , a vibrant pop anthem, pulsed through the arena. His adrenaline surged, fueled by the crowd’s deafening roar. A sea of glowing light sticks waved in a hypnotic rhythm, their vibrant colors blurring into a mesmerizing kaleidoscope, mirroring the song’s title. He commanded the stage, his body an instrument of the music, each move a carefully choreographed expression of raw energy and emotion.
Tae Hyun hit the chorus, his voice soaring above the pounding beat, when it happened. A streak of crimson arced through the air, a blur of motion that seemed to defy gravity. He had a split second of confusion before a cold shock as the soft projectile exploded against his chest, a wet splattering of viscous liquid soaking into his pristine white costume.
Time slowed to an agonizing crawl as the warm paint spread across his skin. The music throbbed in his ear monitors, a relentless reminder that the show must go on. But for a fleeting moment, he was frozen, trapped in the rainbow glow of the stage lights, a lone figure stained red with a mark of hatred.
Then, instinct took over. A dancer’s instinct, a performer’s survival mechanism. He turned the shock into a gasp, the stain into a deliberate smear. He incorporated the unexpected into the choreography, turning his body into a canvas as he wiped the crimson paint across himself in an act of transformation. The crowd roared in response, their cheers echoing his own defiant heartbeat.
He wouldn’t let them win. Not tonight. Not ever.
Yun Seo stood at the ready, flanked by two stylists and a makeup artist, as Tae Hyun ducked behind another set piece on stage for his next outfit change. She instinctively reached out to wipe the paint from his face.
“Leave it,” Tae Hyun snapped, shrugging out of the ruined leather pants. His voice was sharp and edgy from the adrenaline still coursing through his system. “It’s not coming off without a shower anyway.”
Yun Seo nodded, frowning as she pulled the cloth away. “What was that?”
“Hell if I know,” Tae Hyun replied, already reaching for the pieces of his next outfit–a black fitted T-shirt with a bold graphic design, black skinny jeans with a hint of distressing at the knees, and his statement piece, a deep red leather jacket with silver hardware and zippers running diagonally across the chest. The color ironically mirrored that red stains on his skin. “Ask Seong Min about it.” He shoved his feet into the shiny black combat boots the stylist held out. The lighting shifted, meaning he was about to miss his cue. “Hurry up,” he snapped as the stylist struggled to secure his boots.
With a final tug, his boots were secured, and Tae Hyun strode back onto the stage just as the opening chords of Uncaged echoed through the arena. The crowd’s energy surged to match the fierce pop-rock anthem’s driving rhythm, their cheers a powerful wave that momentarily wiped away any lingering fatigue. He poured himself into the song, his movements sharp and deliberate, each gesture a defiant challenge to those who sought to silence him.
The rest of the show was a blur of costume changes, electrifying dance routines, and the unwavering adoration of the crowd. The cheers from the audience reverberated throughout the arena as the stage lights dimmed after his final encore. The darkness offered a comforting refuge from the vibrant energy that had pulsed through him moments before. Tae Hyun leaned on Malik for support as the lift descended, exhaustion settling over him like a heavy blanket. The adrenaline rush was gone, replaced by a dull ache in his muscles and a lingering sense of unease.
Jason and Seong Min anxiously waited in the staging area. Well, not exactly. Jason anxiously waited, his concern etched into every line of his face, his eyes darting over Tae Hyun, searching for signs of injury. Seong Min, on the other hand, stood stiffly at attention, his lips pressed into a thin line of barely concealed irritation.
“Tae Hyun!” Jason exclaimed, rushing towards him as the lift touched down. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Tae Hyun managed a weak smile. “I’m fine, hyung. It’s just paint.” But the strain in his voice betrayed the night’s toll on him. He glanced at Seong Min. “What happened? ”
“We’re still working that out, sir,” Seong Min explained. “Our team has been reviewing the footage of the incident. But we caught the person who did it. The venue security team has him in custody while we wait for the Taipei authorities to collect him.”
Jason’s eyes hardened, his jaw clenching. Tae Hyun could see the anger building beneath the surface, a familiar storm brewing. “I want to see him,” he growled, low and dangerous.
Seong Woo firmly shook his head. “Absolutely not, sir. For one, your status as a foreign national would only complicate the situation. Also, I don’t believe you speak Mandarin.”
Tae Hyun’s jaw nearly dropped open. It was the first time he’d ever witnessed Seong Min outright refuse one of Jason’s requests. It had to be a serious matter. But his unwavering authority only seemed to further fuel Jason’s anger.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Jason spat, sharp and vicious. “That man tried to–”
“Hyung–” Tae Hyun interrupted, gently placing a hand on Jason’s arm and feeling the rigid tension in his muscles. “Not now. Please. I need your help getting all this paint off.” He sighed. “If it’ll even come off.”
Jason hesitated, then visibly forced himself to relax. “Yeah, of course.” He turned back to Seong Min, his concern hardly masking the barely suppressed fury still boiling just below it. “Come find us the moment you figure out what happened.”
Seong Min stiffly nodded. “Of course, sir.”
Tae Hyun looked at Jason, a silent plea in his eyes as he offered his hand. “Can we go now?”
Jason nodded, his jaw still clenched as he struggled to maintain his outward calm, and took Tae Hyun’s hand. “Yeah, let’s go. ”
Once the dressing room door clicked shut behind them, it became a welcome barrier against the protestors, malicious fans, and any other potential troubles awaiting them on the other side. Jason dimmed the lights, casting the space in a warm, intimate glow. As if mirroring the change in atmosphere, his demeanor instantly softened, the hard lines of anger dissolving into a gentle concern that tugged at Tae Hyun’s heart. The tightness in Jason’s shoulders eased, replaced by a familiar tenderness. His eyes, usually sharp and alert, held a warmth that made Tae Hyun’s breath catch in his throat. It was a look he knew well–the one that said, I’m here for you, no matter what . At that moment, all of Tae Hyun’s doubts and anxieties seemed to vanish, replaced by a quiet gratitude for this man who loved him so fiercely.
“Tae Hyun,” Jason purred, softly cupping his face in his hands. “Are you sure you’re okay? I mean, really okay?”
Tae Hyun met Jason’s gaze, understanding that Jason wasn’t asking if he was injured. But he wasn’t sure if he was okay. “I think so. Nothing like that’s ever happened before.” He shrugged, attempting a weak smile. “It’s just paint, right?”
“Just paint?” Jason gently replied as he stared deeply into Tae Hyun’s eyes. “Maybe. But it doesn’t matter what it was. It was still meant to hurt you. To scare you.”
Tae Hyun nodded, a shiver running down his spine as he recalled the shock of the warm wetness splattering against his skin. “Yeah, maybe. I think I’ll feel better once I get this all washed off.”
Jason’s hands moved to Tae Hyun’s shoulders, gently squeezing them. “Let me help you with that.”
Tae Hyun nodded, grateful for the warmth of Jason’s hands as they undressed him. He quietly sighed as he stepped into the shower’s comforting spray. The cool water sluiced over him, a welcome relief after the heat from the stage lights. He shivered as Jason joined him, his strong hands gently working shampoo into his hair. The scent of lavender filled the air, calming the adrenaline that still buzzed in his veins.
Jason’s touch was firm yet surprisingly tender. He worked methodically, scrubbing away the stubborn crimson stains that marred Tae Hyun’s skin. Warmth spread through Tae Hyun’s chest with each stroke, chasing away the lingering chill of doubt and fear. The shared intimacy of the moment, the simple act of caring for each other, reminded him of the unbreakable bond he shared with Jason. Even in the midst of their disagreements, Jason’s love was a constant, a comforting anchor in the storm.
Afterward, Jason wrapped Tae Hyun in a fluffy white towel, carefully drying his hair. “I swear,” he chuckled, “at first, I thought the whole thing was part of the act.”
“Really?” Tae Hyun laughed, hoping that would be the case. “That would’ve been some hardcore performance art.”
Jason’s fingers lingered on Tae Hyun’s skin, gently stroking the muscles of his upper back. “It was incredible,” He murmured, full of admiration. “You were incredible. The way you turned that attack into something beautiful? It was amazing.”
Tae Hyun shrugged, leaning into Jason’s embrace, seeking solace in his warmth. “It’s what we do, isn’t it?” he whispered, unable to disguise the weariness in his voice. “We turn pain into art.”
A gentle knock on the door interrupted the tender moment. Tae Hyun’s heart sank, but it was okay. They were in his dressing room, not at the hotel or at home. He reached for his bathrobe. “Can you get that, hyung?”
Jason nodded. “Of course.” His brow furrowed as he crossed the room. He waited until Tae Hyun was covered before opening the door, revealing Mina’s anxious face. “What’s up, Mina?”
“Seong Hyeon sent me,” Mina explained, her voice strained from the undoubtedly many frantic conversations she’d recently had. “He asked me to bring you to the security office when you’re ready. He’s got some news.”
Jason glanced at Tae Hyun, a question in his eyes. “Are you up for that? I can handle it alone, otherwise.”
As much as Tae Hyun wanted to take Jason up on his offer to enjoy his brief moment of relaxation, his rekindled anger was enough motivation to join them. This was it, the aftermath of the attack. He had to face it and deal with it. He knew it wouldn’t be easy. The night’s events would cast a long shadow over their remaining shows. But he wasn’t alone. He had Jason by his side, and for the moment, that was enough.
“I can be ready in two minutes,” Tae Hyun said, reaching for the shirt he’d worn that morning. “Then we can go.”