The crowd roared. D8 never disappointed. They sang every line of our latest single, their voices almost drowning out the music.
But tonight, something felt off. Instead of the usual rush of joy, a restless unease clawed at me. Lucky's earlier words echoed in my mind.
I glanced at Moon in the center of the stage. On the outside, he looked radiant—full of life. But I knew it was just a mask.
I tried to shake it off, to focus on the performance, but the unease only grew stronger.
As the first song ended and silence fell over the lawn, I forced a smile and looked toward Lucky. He met my eyes—and this time, there was something urgent in his gaze.
And then—everything went dark.
The lights cut out in an instant. Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"What the—? Power cut? Now?"
Something was wrong. The massive LED screen behind us flickered wildly before going pitch black.
A woman's distorted voice crackled through the speakers.
"Annyeong Good evening, everyone. It's been sad lately, hasn't it? To see our idols fall so low Min-jun's gone already, boo-hoo. But tell me… what if I said your beloved idols aren't who you think they are? Would you believe me?"
The tone was chilling—too real to be part of the show.
"What's going on?" someone in the crowd whispered. "Is this… part of the performance?"
But we all knew it wasn't.
Jinam darted backstage. "Shut the screen off! Now! What the hell are you doing—turn it off!"
The LED screen flared back to life—showing footage from the penthouse we'd all stayed in. My stomach twisted. I knew that place. I knew that night. "Fuck! Fuck! Fucking shit…"
Onscreen, Moon hurled a bottle to the floor, screaming. Tommy rushed in to stop him.
"Enough, man! Enough!"
The video cut abruptly—but not before revealing too much.
"No…" I whispered. My heart pounded violently in my chest.
Then the footage returned—Moon slumped on the couch, trembling hands clutching a glass tube filled with something I didn't want to name. The screen went black again, leaving only the woman's icy voice.
"Are you sure this family's happy?"
The air turned heavy. The silence was unbearable.
Lucky took a step toward Moon—but a sudden spotlight pinned him in place. He froze under the beam. "OPP4… better watch yourselves because Lucky and White~ U-R-Next~"
The transmission crackled, cutting in and out.
A pink butterfly detached itself from my chest and fluttered frantically through the air. It landed on the table of a dark-haired woman in a backless dress.
The butterfly froze.
There, etched on the woman's bare back, was the mark of a hornet.
She sipped her wine beside a handsome young man with a powerful family name.
"Let me take Father to bed, and after that, how about we finish our date at the bar, Sol-bi?" he suggested, tired of the chaos.
"Mmm~ but the food's too good to waste," she said with a teasing smile.
Then she turned her gaze toward the stage, tossing her message ball into the air. It hovered above her, recording everything—every second of the disaster unfolding before her eyes.