Anyone else find is sus that there's no banner during the boycott? Its almost like infold is trying to hide how deeply we are affecting their revenue...
So it’s the 9th. Inflop is being scummy. No social posts and a rerun banner no one gaf abt rn. This is the plan. Infold will not listen unless we do this. I hope most of us can try this time.
I was 50/50 abt all of this but now it’s been solidified. They only continue to mostly post on Chinese socials. If they are willing to quiet down then we will be show them how much our silence can also mean in game.
The “coming soon” for the guys is also gone. I am not willing to tolerate this anymore. I will not touch the game till July 16th. Not even going to update the game.
If they wish to cater to the toxic fans then let them do what they want.
On a personal note. I have been very very sick these days with no time in my life. I’ll try my best to write for vallo but it seems my motivation has tanked.
So the coming soon is gone. I am so disappointed in the company. How cowardly to not even say anything about the issue and then to try and use a much wanted re-run to try and lure us into spending money.
PLEASE KEEP BOYCOTTING! If you are missing the lads, there are amazing people on YouTube who upload entire cards and secret times. Engage with art and read fics! Until this BILLION DOLLAR COMPANY shows some backbone and actually addresses the issues, they do not deserve a single cent of your hard earned money.
The boys were huddled around Zayne’s laptop early on a Sunday morning. Disbelief and confusion written on their faces as they slowly processed what they’re reading.
“There’s no way..” Caleb said, his voice trailing off.
“Holy shit.” Valko pushed aside Caleb, earning a ‘Hey!’ from him. His amber eyes scanning the screen and grinning.
Zayne clears his throat and stands up. “Alright.” He exits their scheduler and closes his laptop. “It appears we’re.. completely free today.” He looks at the other boys. “Suggestions for what to do will be done in an orderly fashion. So raise your hand if you have an idea-“ Before he even finished his sentence, everyone raises their hand and he groans.
“Alright, this will be a long morning.”
⭐️❄️🐟🐦⬛🍎🐺
The text message from Caleb hit my phone at exactly 7:00 AM on a Saturday, a day I was supposed to be completely off-duty.
“Emergency at the penthouse. Are you awake?”
Panic spiked my adrenaline. I didn't even change out of my oversized sweatpants and faded graphic tee. I threw my hair into a messy bun, grabbed my keys, and sprinted across town, bracing myself for the worst. Had Rafayel’s fever returned? Had Sylus finally thrown an executive off the balcony?
When I jammed my key into the penthouse lock and threw the door open, panting for breath, I froze.
The six most famous idols in the country were sitting in a tight circle on the living room rug. They weren't in stage outfits or designer labels. They were in mismatched hoodies, flannel pajama pants, and slides. Complete silence hung over the room until Caleb slowly looked up.
"We have a problem," Caleb said, his voice deadly serious.
"What is it? Did someone get hurt?" I asked, clutching my chest.
"Worse," Rafayel groaned, dramatically flopping backward onto a floor cushion. "Management cleared our schedule for the next twenty-four hours. A mandatory mental health day. No cameras. No practice. No vocal coaches. Nothing."
I blinked, lowering my hands. "Okay.. and that's a crisis because..?"
"Because we don't know what to do." Valko admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, his amber eyes wide with genuine confusion. "We wanted to do something normal. Like, regular-people normal. But the moment we suggested going out, our security team threatened to resign."
"We are trapped in a golden cage of our own making." Sylus said from his spot on the couch, though the dry amusement in his voice couldn't hide the fact that he looked incredibly bored. He flicked a stray piece of lint off his black sweatpants. "The boys want an 'ordinary experience,' kitten. But apparently, when your face is on every billboard in the city, buying a cheap hotdog at a convenience store requires a tactical military operation."
"I suggested we stay in, but I was outvoted." Zayne murmured, adjusting his glasses without looking up from his book.
Xavier, who was hugging a giant plush pillow to his chest, looked up at me with big, hopeful eyes. "You're as close to a normal person that we know of, so help us, please?"
I stood in the doorway, staring at the multi-million-dollar powerhouse idol group looking at me like I held the secrets to the universe.
“Uhm.. alright.. but can’t you guys just go out in disguises or something?” I said, scratching the back of my neck.
All the boys practically winced as if you brought up a bad memory.
“Well.. we tried that once.” Caleb began, “But someone,” He glares at Sylus, “Thought that he didn’t need anything but a hat and mask.”
Sylus scoffs, “You all are dramatic, it wasn’t that bad-“ Xavier cuts him off, “We were chased out of a mall, Sylus.” Sylus clears his throat and looks away. “My point still stands. I refuse to wear scratchy wigs and irritating contacts.” He said.
I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head at Sylus’s utter lack of subtlety. "Of course you tried to blend in by doing absolutely nothing. A six-foot-three man with silver hair, bright red eyes, and the aura of a mob boss doesn't just disappear under a baseball cap, Sylus."
Sylus merely smirked, leaning his head back against the sofa cushions. "I gave the public what they wanted, kitten. I'm generous like that."
"Right, well, your generosity almost got us trampled," Caleb sighed, rubbing his temples. "So, public spaces are out. Any other brilliant ideas?”
I tapped my chin, thinking back to my university days when the stress of exams became too much to handle. A memory flashed in my mind: neon lights, the smell of dust and old plastic, and the mechanical hum of outdated machinery.
"Actually... I do have an idea," I said, a small grin tugging at the corners of my lips. "It’s a bit unconventional, but it’s completely under the radar. Back in my college days, my friends and I used to go to this old, practically abandoned retro arcade on the edge of the industrial district."
Six pairs of eyes immediately locked onto me.
"An arcade?" Valko leaned forward, his amber eyes sparking with sudden interest. "Like, with the old-school joystick cabinets and crane games?"
"Exactly," I nodded, crossing my arms. "The owner is this sweet, half-deaf old man named Mr. Ji who honestly doesn't care who comes through the door as long as they drop a few quarters into the machines. It’s usually completely empty, especially nowadays. No cameras, no influencers, and absolutely no corporate executives."
"An establishment that time forgot," Rafayel murmured, sitting up slightly and tossing his purple hair out of his eyes. "It sounds tragically poetic. A graveyard of dead pixels and forgotten youth. I suppose it has a certain aesthetic charm."
"It has Pac-Man and air hockey, Rafayel, not an art gallery.” Sylus corrected dryly, before turning to Xavier, who was already practically vibrating with excitement. I smiled, "And they have a whole row of retro fighting games."
Xavier’s eyes widened, the plush pillow squeezed tightly against his chest. "Can we go? Please?"
Caleb looked at Zayne, silently checking for the leader's approval. Zayne closed his book, adjusting his glasses with a faint, resigned sigh. "Alright."
The boys cheered in triumph. “Everyone go get changed.” Zayne looked at me, “Wait here, okay?” I couldn’t help but melt at his voice, the flutter in my chest prominent. “Y-Yeah..”
⭐️❄️🐟🐦⬛🍎🐺
When they finally filed back out into the foyer, it was clear that none of them shared a single definition of what "looking like a normal citizen" actually meant.
Caleb wore a clean, well-fitted olive green bomber jacket over a plain white tee, the ultimate boy-next-door look that somehow still screamed high-end catalog. Valko leaned hard into his street-dancer roots with an oversized black graphic sleeveless hoodie (that perfectly showed off his muscular arms), baggy cargo pants, and a neon teal-trimmed beanie pulled down tight over his fiery red hair.
Then came the others. Rafayel looked like he had stepped off a runway in a loose, flowing pastel knit sweater that slipped off one shoulder, complete with a designer scarf wrapped meticulously around his neck.
"Rafayel," I deadpanned, looking at the scarf. "It's eighty degrees outside."
"Okay, and?" he posed, adjusting a pair of oversized, wire-rimmed glasses that did absolutely nothing to disguise his face. "An artist does not compromise fashion for climate."
Xavier looked like a walking cloud in a fluffy, cream-colored fleece zip-up, looking so soft and sleepy. I half-expected him to lie down on the rug again. Zayne, true to form, looked incredibly sharp and intimidatingly handsome in a charcoal trench coat over a dark turtleneck, less like a pop star and more like a high-end corporate CEO on a casual winter holiday.
And Sylus? Sylus just wore a heavy, dark leather jacket over a black shirt, a silver chain glinting against his collar. He hadn't changed at all.
"A baseball cap, Sylus. Please." Caleb pleaded, shoving a plain black cap into the older man's hands.
Sylus scoffed but tossed the cap on backward, a dark, dangerous smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at me. "Satisfied, kitten? I’m practically invisible."
"You look like a bodyguard who's about to initiate a hostile takeover," I muttered, shaking my head. "But it'll have to do. Let's go before someone changes their mind."
⭐️❄️🐟🐦⬛🍎🐺
The drive to the edge of the industrial district was remarkably quiet, the boys squeezed into a large, tinted SUV that Infold kept off the public registration records. When we finally pulled up to the weathered, faded neon sign that read Ji’s Retro Arcade, the boys stared through the dark windows.
The building was a low, concrete structure with peeling paint and dust-coated windows. To anyone else, it looked abandoned. Yet, it was the perfect fortress.
I led the way, pushing open the heavy glass door. A little bell chimed weakly above us. The interior was pitch black, smelling faintly of old carpet, dust, and ozone.
"Uh... is it supposed to be this dark?" Valko asked, his voice echoing in the vast, silent room.
"The main breakers must have short circuited," I said, frowning as I looked across the rows of silent, dark cabinet machines. "Mr. Ji probably doesn’t even come check. I think the breaker box is in the back storage room, but I don't really know how to flip the main lines without blowing a fuse."
"Step aside, clear the way," Rafayel sighed, waving a hand dramatically. "I shall use my dazzling personality to light our—"
"I'll look at it," Caleb interrupted with a warm, grounded chuckle, stepping past him.
"I'm coming too," Valko chirped, instantly dropping his hoodie's hood and cracking his knuckles. "It’s been awhile since I’ve worked with wires."
I guided the two of them past the rows of dead Pac-Man and Time Crisis cabinets into a cramped, dusty back room. Caleb pulled out his phone, switching on the flashlight and illuminating a massive, rusted gray electrical box on the wall.
"Whoa," I said, taking a step back from the daunting mess of thick wires and heavy metal switches. "Maybe we should just call someone? I don't want you guys getting electrocuted before the tour."
"Relax," Caleb said smoothly, his voice carrying that steady, calming energy. He shone the light across the schematic pasted inside the metal door, his ultraviolet eyes scanning the fading text with an ease that caught me completely off guard. "It's just a standard three-phase system. The auxiliary compressor for the old AC unit probably overloaded the secondary bus."
Valko leaned over his shoulder, pointing a finger at a thick copper wire. "Look at the terminal balance here, Caleb. If we throw the main toggle without isolating the cabinet grids first, we're going to fry the logic boards on those old fighting games."
"Good catch, Val," Caleb murmured, reaching out and confidently flipping three smaller switches in a precise, rhythmic sequence before gripping the massive iron lever on the side of the box. "Alright. Stand back, just in case."
With a firm, heavy CLANK, Caleb threw the master switch.
A deep, mechanical thrum vibrated through the floorboards. A second later, the fluorescent lights overhead flickered to life, buzzing loudly before stabilizing. Through the open door of the storage room, a sudden symphony of electronic chirps, synthetic chimes, and retro theme music erupted as dozens of arcade machines booted up all at once.
I stood there, blinking in sheer amazement at the two of them. They hadn't hesitated for a single second.
"Okay, hold on." I said, looking back and forth between Caleb and Valko. "How on earth did you two just fix a thirty-year-old industrial power grid in under two minutes? Is that an Infold idol training requirement now?"
Valko let out a bright, contagious laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as his amber eyes crinkled with amusement. "Man, I wish. No, I’ve been doing this since before I got scouted. My family owns a technology company so I was also working there. They made me learn the structural maintenance side of the business from the ground up. It was a fun time when you could actually just lose yourself in the tech."
Caleb chuckles, “Ever heard of EonCore Tech?” You raised an eyebrow. “Uh yeah? Who hasn’t? They practically make everything electronic these days.”
He grins and points at Valko, “Val over here is the chairman, wouldn’t you know it.” You proceed to process the information Caleb just gave you. My jaw drops and I look at Valko, who’s scratching the back of his neck.
Wait.. Valko’s.. Chairman?- WHAT?!
Valko flushes red and shoves Caleb out of embarrassment, Caleb grins and they begin to wrestle playfully.
"Okay, okay. Break it up you two. Now what about you?" I turned to Caleb, completely fascinated.
Caleb smiled, the steady warmth in his eyes returning in full force as he wiped a smudge of dust off his thumb. "I spent two years studying aerospace engineering. I wanted to be a pilot, so I spent a lot of time buried in mechanical schematics and structural engine blueprints. Flipping a couple of old breakers isn't exactly rocket science, literally. I guess life had different plans because now I’m here." He chuckles, but it sounded slightly hollow.
"An engineer and a tech-whiz," I murmured, a soft laugh escaping me as we walked back out into the bright, neon-lit arcade floor. "You guys are full of surprises, aren't you?"
⭐️❄️🐟🐦⬛🍎🐺
The transition from the dusty storage room back to the main floor was like stepping directly into a neon time capsule. The arcade hummed with life: the electronic warbles of Galaga, the rhythmic thuds of a dance machine, and the sharp blowing of air via a air hockey table.
"See? An absolute masterpiece of nostalgia," Rafayel proclaimed, though he was already hovering skeptically near a claw machine filled with slightly lopsided plush fish. "Though I question the artistic integrity of these stuffed marine specimens. They look deeply distressed."
"They're prizes, Raf, not an exhibition to analyze with fancy words." Sylus chuckled, leaning against a nearby cabinet with his arms crossed. He tossed a bag of quarters into the air and caught them effortlessly. "If you want one, I can always just break the glass."
"Do not break the glass, Sylus," Caleb warned, coming out of the back room while still dusting off his bomber jacket. "We are trying to be normal people, remember?"
Within twenty minutes, the initial awkwardness completely dissolved, and the boys split off into their natural elements.
⭐️🐺⭐️🐺⭐️🐺
Xavier and Valko immediately locked eyes over a vintage head-to-head fighting game cabinet. Xavier, still looking soft and unassuming in his fluffy cream fleece, sat down on the stool and cracked his knuckles with a quiet, terrifying intensity.
"Don't hold back, newbie.” Xavier murmured, his striking blue eyes reflecting the flashing screen.
"Oh, it's on!" Valko grinned, his eyes bright with competitive energy as he took the opposite seat.
For the next few minutes, the corner of the arcade was filled with the rapid-fire clack-clack-clack of joysticks and plastic buttons. To Valko's absolute shock, Xavier was a ruthless savant. Every time Valko initiated a high-tier combo, Xavier flawlessly countered it with a sleepy, rhythmic precision.
"How are you doing that?!" Valko groaned as his character was knocked out for the fourth time. "You aren't even looking at the controller!"
"Muscle memory," Xavier said softly, a small, triumphant smile playing on his lips as he reached for another quarter. "I used to stay up late playing."
🍎🐟🍎🐟🍎🐟
Meanwhile, Caleb and Rafayel were engaged in a fiercely dramatic match of air hockey. Rafayel was treating the plastic mallet like a fencing foil, lunging forward with every strike.
"Ha! Watch my unstoppable defense!" Rafayel cheered as the puck zoomed across the table.
Caleb simply laughed, his ultraviolet eyes warm with genuine amusement as he casually blocked the shot and sent it snapping right back into Rafayel’s goal with an eerie precision.
"Hey! That was a fluke!" Rafayel complained, throwing his hands up dramatically. "The air pressure on your side is clearly better!"
"Sure it is, Raf," Caleb teased, resetting the puck. "Just keep your eye on the target."
🐦⬛🐦⬛🐦⬛🐦⬛🐦⬛🐦⬛
As I stood near the prize counter, watching Sylus effortlessly clear out a shooting gallery game while mocking the machine's outdated graphics. I giggled at his comments.
“Frustrated, Sylus? At a video game?” He smirks at me with an unreadable expression. “Not a word, kitten.”
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
I was sitting on a table, scanning the room. My ears ringing with the laughter and joy from the members. But in my scan, I realized the room was missing someone. I scanned the neon-lit aisles and finally spotted him.
Zayne was standing near the far wall, completely removed from the chaos. His charcoal trench coat was still buttoned up, and his hands were folded neatly behind his back. He was staring at a vintage racing game cabinet, his sharp hazel eyes unreadable behind his glasses. He hadn't touched a single machine, nor had he traded a single bill for quarters.
I grabbed a small plastic cup filled with leftover tokens and walked over, my heart doing a familiar, nervous flutter as I approached his stoic aura.
"You know, you should go play too, Zayne." I said softly, stepping up beside him. "And who knows when you’ll get the day off like this."
Zayne didn't startle. He simply shifted his gaze down to me, his expression calm and clinical, though his eyes seemed to soften just a fraction. "I am simply observing."
"You're not observing, you're brooding." I countered gently, offering him the cup of tokens. "Everyone else is enjoying themselves, and you're standing here looking like you're not allowed to breathe near Pac-Man."
Zayne let out a short, quiet breath that was the closest he ever got to a laugh. "You don’t understand.” I noticed him fidgeting with his sleeve and I rest my hand on his arm in attempt to ground him. “Then let me understand.” I say.
Zayne looked down at my hand resting on his arm, his eyes lingering on the small gesture for a long beat before he shifted his gaze back to the glowing screen of the racing cabinet. The neon lights cast a blue and pink hue over his sharp jawline, making his usual stoic expression look incredibly poignant.
He let out a slow, quiet breath, his shoulders dropping a fraction of an inch as the rigid, professional barrier finally cracked.
"When I was a child," Zayne began, his deep voice dropping to a low, quiet murmur that was easily swallowed by the surrounding arcade noise, keeping the conversation entirely between us. "My peers spent their weekends in places exactly like this. They collected tickets, traded tokens, and made mistakes. I, however, had a different trajectory mapped out for me."
He adjusted his glasses, his hazel eyes clouded with the weight of memories he rarely shared. "I was expected to be a straight-A student. Every hour was accounted for. Studying, advanced placements, preparing for a medical career that felt entirely inevitable. While other kids were learning how to play, I was learning how to anticipate failure so I could prevent it. I was never expected to simply act like a child my own age."
I looked up at him, my heart breaking a little for the young boy who had been forced to grow up far too fast. "So you never got to just be reckless? Or have fun without a purpose?"
"No," Zayne replied flatly, though there wasn't bitterness in his tone, only a deep, clinical acceptance of his past. "And that structure followed me into adulthood. It is the precise reason Infold chosen me as the leader of LADS. I am the responsible one. I am the one who calculates the risks, enforces the recovery schedules, and ensures the others do not collapse under corporate demands."
He turned his head to look across the room, watching where Sylus, Caleb, and Valko were now cheering as Xavier apparently achieved a win over Rafayel.
"Even now, on a mandatory mental health day, I cannot simply disable that part of my mind." Zayne admitted, his voice carrying a raw, heavy sincerity. "If I relax, if I abandon my post as the responsible one, who ensures their safety? Who makes sure we stay together? Freedom is a luxury I cannot afford when the well-being of the entire group rests on my ability to remain vigilant."
I swallowed the lump in my throat, keeping my hand steady against his arm, offering a silent, grounding warmth. "Zayne.. being the leader doesn't mean you have to be made of stone. Look at them." I gestured to the guys, who were completely lost in their own worlds of unbothered joy. "They aren't just safe right now, they're happy. And they're happy because you got them here. You did your job. You continue to do your job, not just for them but for the fans too. I’ve seen the clips of you stopping sets for a fan in need.” The tips of his ears go red.
“You may be the leader, and you may have to look after these guys, but you also need to learn that it’s okay to lose control. It’s okay to lose track of time. You can learn to share your burden with them. You don’t have to be just the responsible one, because from where I’m standing, you’re much more than that clinical robot you make yourself out to be.” I smile at him. “Plus you wouldn’t have chosen to become an idol if you didn’t feel something more beneath that icy surface of yours.”
He looks at me and for a moment, he holds my gaze before sighing. Not out of annoyance, but like someone who just let go of a heavy weight on their shoulders.
I picked up two tokens from the plastic cup and held them out, pressing them gently against his palm.
"For the next few hours, you aren't the leader of the biggest group in the country, and you aren’t going to keep lurking. You're just a guy at an arcade with his friends. Let the kid who never got to play finally have a turn."
Zayne looked from the tokens in his hand up to my face, his sharp eyes searching mine, parsing the complete lack of expectations or demands in my expression. A heavy silence stretched between us, until finally, the corner of his mouth twitched upward into a tiny, almost imperceptible smile.
"I’ve always wanted to play a racing game," he murmured, his tone shifting into something softer, a little lighter. "Strictly to analyze the operational limits of this machine's turning radius."
"Right. Strictly scientific." I agreed, a massive grin breaking across my face as the stoic leader of LADS finally took a seat at the steering wheel, letting the child in him slip in tokens into the slot.
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
For the next hour, the impossible happened: Zayne actually played. He didn't just play either, he completely dominated the high-score leaderboard, earning a rare, triumphant smirk. It was almost scary how good he was at it.
Eventually, the rest of the boys caught on to the anomaly.
"Nice cornering, Zaynie!" Caleb cheered, leaning over the seat with a massive, proud grin.
Even Sylus sauntered over, inserting a coin into the adjacent cabinet to challenge him. The competitive banter that followed was loud, chaotic, and entirely human. For a few beautiful hours, the heavy weight of the idol world completely ceased to exist.
But time, as it always does when you're having fun, caught up to us. The neon lights of the arcade suddenly felt a little dimmer as the digital clock on the wall crept past midnight. The mandatory twenty-four-hour mental health day was officially coming to a close.
Caleb was the first to check his phone, his face falling slightly into that familiar, grounded look of responsibility. "Hey, guys, I don’t mean to be that guy but.. look at the time. We've got a 7:00 AM call time for the vocal run-throughs tomorrow."
A collective, theatrical groan echoed through the arcade.
"Ugh!" Rafayel cried, dramatically dropping his head onto Caleb's shoulder. "C’mon, I was just about to be Xavi in Street Fighter!"
Xavier gave him an unimpressed look, “You literally lost five times in a row-“ Rafayel covers his mouth with his hand. “Shush.”
Caleb laughed gently, though his own eyes carried a trace of bittersweet reluctance. "Back to reality."
Valko sighed, pulling his neon beanie lower over his face, though a warm smile remained on his lips. "It was worth it, though. Best day off ever."
Xavier sat quietly at the fighting game cabinet, his thumb tracing the joystick one last time before slipping his hands back into his fluffy fleece pockets. "Yeah. It was nice."
⭐️❄️🐟🐦⬛🍎🐺
The drive back to the luxury complex was quiet, but it wasn't the suffocating, tense silence from before. It was the peaceful, heavy-lidded quiet of a group of friends who had played hard and left everything on the arcade floor.
When the penthouse elevator doors chimed open, we all stepped back into the sleek, pristine foyer. The transition back into their reality felt sudden, but the atmosphere inside the apartment was noticeably lighter now.
Sylus tossed his backward baseball cap onto the console table and ran a hand through his silver hair. He looked down at me, his red eyes glinting with lazy amusement. "Thanks for today, kitten."
"Get some rest, Sylus," I smiled.
"Thanks for helping us on our day off," Valko said warmly, giving me a quick, energetic wave as he headed toward the stairs. "See you tomorrow!"
"Goodnight," Xavier murmured sleepily, already practically drifting toward his bedroom like a ghost.
Rafayel smiled at me and with a hint of his natural voice coming through, he spoke. “Night, cutie. Rest up well.” And he walked off.
Caleb offered his own quiet, grateful goodnight before dispersing down the hallway, leaving the foyer settled in a tranquil, dim ambiance.
I turned toward the door, gripping the strap of my bag, but paused when I realized Zayne hadn't walked away yet.
He stood near the edge of the foyer, his charcoal trench coat still looking impeccably sharp, though his posture was entirely devoid of the rigid tension he had carried that morning. He adjusted his glasses, his sharp hazel eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made the air feel suddenly still.
There were no cameras, no managers, and no corporate rules standing between us in that quiet second. Just a profound, unspoken understanding.
"Thank you," Zayne said softly, his deep voice carrying a raw, gentle sincerity that resonated straight to my core. "For.. listening and.. not expecting."
I felt a warm blush creep up my neck, but I held his gaze, offering a soft, genuine smile. "Anytime, Zayne. Just remember to share the burden next time."
Zayne gave a slow, measured nod, the ghost of that tiny, exclusive smile playing at the corner of his lips. "I will take it under advisement. Goodnight."
"Goodnight." I whispered.
I turned and stepped through the penthouse door, the heavy lock clicking securely behind me. As I waited for the elevator, my heart was hammering against my ribs, an unstoppable smile stretching across my face.
⭐️❄️🐟🐦⬛🍎🐺
Inside the foyer, Zayne remained still for a moment, staring at the closed door before turning back toward the hallway to his room, a smile on his face.
Leaning against the kitchen island with his arms crossed, Sylus silently watched the entire exchange play out.
He didn't say a single word. He simply let out a low, private chuckle, “She really is becoming a problem.”
⭐️❄️🐟🐦⬛🍎🐺
End of Chapter 3
Hi guys! Honestly this chapter was quite difficult to wrote as I kept blanking and rewriting in between. I apologize if it is a little messy ;u; Anyways! Feel free to comment your thoughts and such and also check out my page as I do have a Get to know the Author post where if you want to be tagged or have any questions, please comment on there! Love you all and see you all in the next one!
I'm holding out hope this cancellation is the company trying to gather buzz for our newest lad but I'm still interacting and showing support for him where I can.
I was holding out hope because they had kept up all his posts on instagram but they have removed pretty much all of them now. I'm actually so upset, I have played this game every single day for well over a year, I have spent THOUSANDS of dollars on it (so embarrassing but very real lol) and even though I was getting so bored with the same thing over and over, I kept up with the game because the 6th LI was coming at some point and I really loved the main story.
To have all that taken away feels so insulting. And I know its just a mobile game and there is like actual problems in the world but Lads has always been my escape from reality and now it feels like its been taken from me literally for the dumbest reasons.
i absolutely can’t believe they cancelled valko’s launch but they’ll keep the home system that no one really uses, takes up a bunch of space and overheats every device that uses it for longer than 10 minutes, yet refuse to do anything about the the fact that the game is absolutely unplayable longterm because theres nothing to do. they won’t reset abyssal chaos or unicorn operations, they won’t give us new opportunities to farm diamonds outside of daily tasks, they don’t care to continue tender moments, bond stories or anecdotes. the chocolate shop is completely useless, the main story updates twice a year and the constant banners and reruns are completely exhausting.
like at this point they’re genuinely taking the piss what tf do you mean you completely scrapped the only thing that brought any fresh wind into this otherwise really monotone game.
I understand that they have to get money to further develop the game but if it’s for completely useless stuff that no one asked for, nor to develop the MAIN STORY or the combat aspect of the game that are literally the main things that even make this a game in the first place, what even is the point
Swiftie, F1 Girlie, Wrestle Bro, LaDS Addict @aceniixx - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
yousharknotpass
pixelskylines
romaincrisis
snowghoul
theartofmadeline
