“FUCK!” I yelled as I hit the ground for the second time, King having barreled into me during practice. Wincing, I scrambled back to my feet, the sting of impact radiating through my hip. "What the hell is going on with you? You can’t even follow a simple beat!"

King stood there, staring at the floor, fists clenched at his sides. He refused to meet my eyes, which only fueled my frustration. "Our choreography isn’t something you can half-ass, King," I snapped. "If you keep screwing up, someone’s going to get seriously hurt!"

“Guys,” God’s calm but firm voice cut through the tension. The warning tone was enough to make me take a breath, though the sting of annoyance lingered.

"We can’t practice like this if King’s going to dance like an amateur," I muttered, the words sharp but quieter.

King’s jaw tightened, and for a moment it seemed like he was about to say something. But whatever retort he had died on his lips when the door opened.

“Song!” I called out, my irritation melting into relief at the sight of him. King was instantly forgotten. Song hovered at the doorway, his discomfort evident as he took in the charged atmosphere.

"Sorry," he murmured, his voice low. "God said I could come by to let him hear the new draft."

Behind me, I heard King mutter something to Ice, his words carrying just loud enough to be deliberate. "Look, Idol’s little boy toy shows up, and suddenly he’s wagging his tail."

It was like a switch flipped in my head—a bright red button slammed down hard.

Without thinking, I turned on King, fists clenched, and lunged. “Say that to my face,” I snarled, ready to knock that smug look off of him.

God and Day were quicker, grabbing my arms before I could land a punch. Ice held King back by the shoulder, though King made no real move to retaliate. He wasn’t stupid enough to start a fight he knew he couldn’t win.

King barked at me mockingly, his grin infuriating.

“KING!” God’s voice boomed across the room, silencing everything. King flinched, the cockiness draining from his face. "Outside. Now," God ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

“And you,” he turned to me, his voice quieter but no less firm, “calm down. You’re scaring Song.”

I glanced over at Song, who stood frozen near the door, wide-eyed and unsure of what to do. I felt a pang of guilt stabbing me in the chest. To us, fights like these were just another Tuesday—we’d lived and trained together for so long that this kind of blow up didn’t faze anyone in the group. But to an outsider like Song? It probably looked like chaos.

I pulled my arm free from Day’s grip and grabbed a towel, retreating to the far end of the room near the mirrors. God left with King, likely to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with him. Day stayed behind, his easy smile and gentle tone working to put Song at ease. It seemed to be working. My gaze stayed fixated on Song, drinking him in. The way he smiled with a tinge of shyness, but so genuine that coaxing a smile out of him felt like a reward in itself. In between his conversation with Day he would look at me and quickly look away when he met my gaze. A soft pink shade tinting his ears. I held back a possessive growl as the urge of pouncing him right here and now washed over me.

“Song,” I called softly once I’d calmed down. “Let me hear the draft.” I motioned him over, keeping my tone inviting. Burying the beast deep down.

He hesitated but eventually made his way over, tentative as though expecting me to explode again. His cautious demeanor reminded me of a nervous rabbit stepping into a wolf’s den.

He held out his phone and headphones, but instead of taking them, I grabbed his wrist, pulling him down to crouch in front of me.

“He doesn’t know anything,” I said quietly, holding his gaze. “King’s just talking out of his ass. I haven’t told anyone.”

Song studied me for a moment, his tension easing slightly as a small smile crept onto his face.

I didn’t want to let go of him, my fingers trailing along his forearm while I held his gaze. My mind wandered briefly, imagining things I shouldn’t—things involving him, me, and the mirrored walls around us. With extraordinary effort, I released his wrist and grabbed the headphones, focusing on the task at hand.

The track played, and I listened intently, letting myself drown out everything except the music. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t finished either, but for someone not accustomed to pop, it was impressive. More than that, I was surprised by how good he really was, despite the praise others had given him.

“It’s good,” I said, handing the headphones back. “God will probably have some notes, but you’ve got something here.”

“I’m expecting that,” Song admitted with a small sigh. “It’s not your usual style. I just hope your fans don’t hate it.”

“You worry too much,” I said, noticing his tendency to doubt himself. “They’ll like it.”

Without thinking, I reached out and brushed a strand of hair from his face. The movement surprised even me, but I didn’t pull away. For a moment, we simply stared at each other, the rest of the room fading into the background. My finger moved down his jawline and my thumb brushed against his bottom lip.

The reappearance of God and King broke the spell, and Song jumped to his feet as if he’d been caught doing something inappropriate. He stood there awkwardly, his shoulders stiff, while I shook my head, releasing a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a chuckle.

God strode over to Song and picked up the phone I’d been listening to moments ago. With his usual precision, he pulled out a notepad and began taking meticulous notes, replaying the song over and over again. God never did anything half-heartedly.

Meanwhile, King moved slowly toward where Song stood. I narrowed my eyes, tracking his approach. He wasn’t showing any outward signs of anger or frustration anymore, but I couldn’t shake my suspicion. Something was definitely off with him today.

“Song, have you heard from Benz lately?” King asked casually, his tone unnervingly neutral.

I frowned. Why was King asking about Benz? The two of them barely knew each other, having met briefly at that party. There was no logical reason for King to be bringing him up now.

Song blinked, clearly caught off guard. “He sent us a message saying he’s staying with his parents for a while,” he replied hesitantly.

I watched King closely and caught the subtle tightening of his jaw, the way his teeth clenched behind his otherwise neutral expression.

“What’s up, King?” I asked pointedly.

King met my gaze, his face unreadable. After a pause, he shrugged. “Let’s practice the dance break since God’s busy,” he said quietly, pivoting to the center of the room.

I exchanged a glance with Song, who looked just as puzzled as I felt. With a shrug, I signaled that I had no clue what was going on either.

“Great idea!” Day chimed in, ever the peacemaker. “Me and Song will watch from the side.” He slung an arm around Song’s shoulders, guiding him to a bench where they could sit and observe.

God and Day weren’t part of the dance break—while both were skilled dancers, this choreography pushed beyond their limits. We all knew our strengths, and the last thing we needed was an injury sidelining someone.

“Fine,” I agreed. Ice and I joined King on the floor.

Ice, despite being primarily a rapper, was a natural dancer. His movements were fluid, precise, and instinctive. Unfortunately, teaching didn’t come as naturally to him; he struggled to explain what came effortlessly to his body.

“Let’s go all out since we’ve got an audience,” I said with a grin, fist-bumping Ice.

I turned to King, my grin fading into something more serious. “You sure you can focus?”

“Shut up,” King snapped, though there was no real heat behind it. “I’m fine.”

I hesitated but eventually offered him a fist bump too. King and I had been through too much together for me not to trust him when he said he was ready.

Day queued up the music, giving us a moment to find our positions. I stood in the middle, flanked by Ice and King, and let my eyes flicker to Song. He was watching us with an intensity that sent a jolt of energy through me. I winked at him before the beat dropped, and then there was no room for anything but the music and the dance.

The choreography was intricate, demanding every ounce of focus and synchronization we had. Movements snapped into place, fluid yet sharp. By the end of the dance break, I was drenched in sweat, my heart pounding.

I laughed, exhilarated. Dancing like this, with absolute trust in my bandmates, was intoxicating. Even Ice was smiling, and whatever had thrown King off earlier seemed to have dissipated.

As the music faded, I turned to Song. His expression caught me off guard—it was a mixture of awe and something else, something that made my stomach flip.

I made my way over, leaning casually against the mirror as Day, ever perceptive, slid away to give us some privacy.

“What’s that look for?” I teased, grinning. “If you keep staring at me like that, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

Song’s eyes widened briefly, and then his face flushed red as he looked down at his feet. “I didn’t know you could dance like that,” he mumbled. “You do that in front of an audience?”

I chuckled. “Of course. It’s my job.” Seeing him flustered like this was too tempting. “Jealous?” I added with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly but finally met my gaze.

“I could give you a private show,” I continued, unable to resist. His ears turned red, his emotions as transparent as glass.

“I’m working late. Are you stopping by the studio later?” he asked, ignoring my teasing entirely.

The question only widened my grin. There was no mistaking why he wanted me to come and I was more than happy to oblige.

“Of course,” I replied, pushing off the mirror just as God approached.

“I’ve made some notes for you, Song,” God said, handing over the phone and a sheet of paper. His gaze shifted to me, sharp and disapproving. “I hope Idol isn’t distracting you too much. He should be focusing on his own work.”

God’s intent was clear—he wanted me to break things off. But I had no intention of doing that. Not now, not anytime soon. Being with Song recharged me, it gave me so much energy, I was practically vibrating with every step. 

“He’s not,” Song replied a little too quickly, his voice louder than necessary. Realizing his mistake, he let out an awkward laugh. “It’s really not a problem, God. Thanks for the notes. I’ll let you guys get back to practice.”

“You can stay and watch,” I suggested, not ready to let him go yet, wondering if I could make him blush even harder.

“I have work to do,” he said with a warm smile. “I’ll see you later, though.”

With that, he said his goodbyes and left. As the door closed behind him, I let out a long sigh and slid to the ground, leaning against the mirror wall.

“You sure this is just about having fun?” God asked, arms crossed as he studied me intently.

“Of course,” I scoffed.

“You’ve never shown this much interest in someone before,” he pressed on. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the death stares you’ve been giving anyone who so much as talks to the kid.”

I frowned, caught off guard. “I’m not doing that,” I denied. “You’re imagining things.”

God gave me a long, skeptical look. “Fine,” he said finally. “If you’re going to deny it, I won’t push. Just don’t give the kid any false expectations if you’re not serious about this.”

“He isn’t looking for a relationship,” I shot back quickly. “He’s made it clear he values his privacy. We’re on the same page, so you don’t need to worry so much.”

“Maybe,” God said, hesitation flickering in his expression. “But you should focus on whatever’s going on with King. He hasn’t been this unstable since his breakup with Cherry.”

I sighed, relieved to steer the conversation away from me. “He won’t talk about it,” I admitted. “And that’s saying something, considering he truly never shuts up on a normal day.”

God’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t argue. “Get up,” he said abruptly, nudging the bottom of my feet with his own. “Let’s practice, or we’ll be stuck here all day.”