Chapter 85 — Not For the World, Just For Her
8:59 PM — Mediolanum Forum, Milan
Concert Day
The stadium was alive.
Not just with light, but fever.
Fans were screaming, ocean waves of silver and gold lightsticks rising like tides. Screens flashed names. Banners curled from balconies. The floor trembled under the weight of tens of thousands who had waited years to see them live.
AUREUS stood in silhouette, their bodies backlit in gold.
The opening VCR ended in a burst of static and stars.
Then—
A beat drop. Thunder. Fire.
The concert began.
9:52 PM — Forty Minutes Into the Setlist
They'd already burned through five title tracks, two choreography stages, and three ballads.
Jaeheon hadn't spoken much. He never did. But when he sang, he tore through hearts like silk through a blade.
He stood now behind the grand piano. The spotlight dimmed all around except for the soft halo on his shoulders. His mic lowered.
"There's one track," the host translator said over the stadium comms, "that is unreleased. This is a live-only stage. No title. No lyrics. Just… a feeling."
Jaeheon didn't speak.
He just lowered his head and began to play.
The Song — No Title
It started like dawn.
Soft. Pale. A melody not meant to be remembered—only felt.
The notes weren't sad. They weren't even nostalgic.
They were reverent. Sacred. Like someone kneeling in memory.
A distant ache ran under the right hand, chords rippling like light across water. The left pressed anchor tones, grounding it in something raw and unspoken. The melody lingered in minor sevenths. Echoes of a name that was never said.
He closed his eyes halfway through, shoulders moving slightly with each swell.
And in the silence after the last chord faded—
No one clapped. Not at first.
Because they were all still.
10:07 PM — Location Unknown
A room bathed in dark amber. Heavy curtains. No sound except the echo of the livestream on a private screen.
Anastasia sat curled in the corner of an old leather chaise, legs tucked beneath her. No shoes. One hand clasped lightly over her own wrist.
The screen showed him.
Head bowed. Still at the piano.
He didn't need to say it.
She knew.
This wasn't for the world.
Not for the fans. Not for the cameras.
Not even for the music.
This—was for her.
10:09 PM — Backstage, Mediolanum Forum
"You okay?"
Minjae asked it softly. Not like a real question. More like a feeler.
Jaeheon had just returned backstage, his water untouched. The cheers from the crowd were still pouring through the walls.
He nodded. "Yeah."
Rin watched him longer. His voice was quiet. "You sent it, didn't you?"
Jaeheon didn't answer.
Didn't have to.
Because when Rin looked down at Jaeheon's hand—he saw it shaking.
10:14 PM — Private Network (Encrypted)Message Received: 1
Unknown Contact
The melody is incomplete.
…Why?
Jaeheon stared at the message.
He typed back:
"Because I need you to finish it."