Evelyn's POV
The noise was still there when the lights finally dimmed, but the silence hit me harder. The aftermath of the performance — the weight of the crowd's applause — felt like a heavy fog settling around me.
I stumbled backstage, my legs shaky as if they didn't belong to me anymore. The other members were high-fiving, laughing, congratulating each other, but I stood there — breathless, dizzy, trying to catch up to my own reality.
What just happened?
Taejun's arm slung around my shoulder. He grinned, like this was normal — like this was all part of the plan.
"You did great, Evy," he said. "I knew you had it in you."
I nodded, forcing a smile, but inside, my heart was racing. The sound of my name still echoed in my ears. Evelyn! Evelyn! Evelyn! It didn't feel real. None of it did.
I stared at the floor, trying to steady myself. The floor was still vibrating from the crowd, the thrum of energy too strong, too alive.
Suddenly, I felt a strange pressure in my chest — a sense of heaviness that only grew stronger as the minutes passed. The memories were coming back.
The flashes started slow, like pieces of a puzzle I didn't know I had. I remembered the rehearsals, the sweat, the exhaustion. I remembered them — the boys. But not the version of them that I knew from the outside, the ones I had watched from a screen. These memories were different. They were real. I felt their struggles, their pain. I felt it in my bones, like a shadow I couldn't shake.
My body trembled as if each second spent with them had been etched into my skin, as if I had been part of their story for far longer than just this moment.
"How do I know this?" I whispered to myself.
The door to the dressing room opened, and Namseok stepped in. He looked at me with a raised brow.
"You okay?" he asked, his tone gentle. "You don't look so hot."
I wanted to answer, but my mind raced, too fast, too out of control. How could I explain what I was feeling when I couldn't even explain it to myself?
The others filed in behind him, laughing, joking — like we hadn't just performed in front of thousands of screaming fans.
"Hey," Jungkai called, turning to me with a grin. "You sure you're okay?"
His face was too familiar, too warm, too close. It felt like I'd known him forever, but I couldn't remember when I had.
"I don't… I don't know," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.
Taejun noticed the shift in my mood, his eyes narrowing with concern. "What's going on?" he asked. "You've been distant all night. You look like you're about to pass out."
I swallowed hard, trying to shake off the feeling of everything being just a little too real.
"I don't think I belong here," I said, my voice trembling. "This isn't my life. It can't be."
The room fell silent.
"Evy…" Taejun stepped closer, his tone gentle but firm. "You're part of SOLIX. You've been here with us since the beginning. You belong here."
But I could feel the cracks forming in my mind, the dissonance between the life I thought I was living and the one I was suddenly thrust into. How could I belong here when I felt like I had never been here before?
Then the memories came faster, stronger — memories of this life, of us.
The struggle, the laughter, the betrayals, the arguments, the shared dreams that felt like my own. Every beat, every lyric, every long night rehearsing — it was all in me. But how?
Before I could answer, Jungkai stepped forward, his voice softer than I'd ever heard. "You know, when you joined us, it was like you were always meant to be here. Maybe it's not about how long you've been with us — it's about why you're here."
I looked at him, my chest tightening. "But I don't remember…"
"Don't worry," he said, his voice full of warmth. "You'll remember everything in time."
I nodded, but the weight of his words hung heavily in the air.
The dizziness came back, stronger this time. My legs felt like they were giving out beneath me, and the last thing I remember was feeling the world tilt — a rush of cold air, the ground slipping away.
And then, nothing.