REWRITE ON, "DON'T WORRY 'BOUT A THING"
PROLOGUE, ONE, TWO>>>> THREE
Word count: 4.8k+ WARNINGS YANDERE TENDENCIES
(A/N): I skip like a little bit of the fighting part because I suck at writing fighting scenes. Sorry not sorry.
The crowds buzzed with excitement, fans bumping shoulders and laughing as they made their way toward the glowing arena. "This is it! The last Huntr/X show before their break!" someone shouted, waving a lightstick in the air.
Another group hurried past, nearly tripping over the pavement in their rush. "We have to get good spots!" a girl giggled, pulling her friend by the wrist. Neon signs flickered over their heads, and the sound of chanting was already building like a heartbeat.
Voices rang out from every direction as fans yelled into camera phones, waving signs high above their heads. Some jumped excitedly, trying to catch the attention of the livestream crew.
"Miro's my favorite," one of the girls said coolly, shifting her weight as she adjusted her Miro-themed hoodie. Her voice was calm, but the way her fingers tapped against the handle of her lightstick gave her away. "He's the visual and lead dancer of Huntr/X. No one moves like him. He makes it look effortless."
Her two friends stood behind her, nodding with quiet approval.
"Apparently, he's the black sheep of his family."
The frame cuts to two guys walking side by side, both holding bubble teas, one holding a sign and the other not, half-laughing.
"I don't get it. He's so cool," one of them says, shrugging.
"Who else could wear a sleeping bag to the Met Gala and make it a trend?" the other adds with a grin. They bump shoulders and keep walking.
Then, the camera swings to a group of three teens standing in front of the camera, all with messy under-eye makeup just like Miro.
"He's our role model," says the one in the middle, arms crossed with full conviction.
"He's the best. Love him," the other two echo at the same time, barely cracking a smile.
The feed flickers, switching cameras again. This time, it lands on a group of four girls, all sporting the same big, doe-like eyes and matching pastel fits.
"We're here for Zayden!" they announce in unison, throwing up heart fingers.
The screen quickly shifts to a clean shot of Zayden—smirking, mid-pose.
"The rapper and lyricist," a calm male narrator chimes in, just as a tiny subtitle flickers: Zayden – Main Rapper, Lyricist."He grew up in America," the voice adds, "somewhere called Burbank, USA."
A soft giggle breaks through as the stream cuts to a clip of Zayden doing aegyo backstage—puffed cheeks, heart hands, bashful wink.
"He's the cutest maknae," a girl's voice coos.
But just as fast, the scene cuts again—this time to a darker, grittier image: Zayden on stage, mic clenched, fire in his eyes as he spits bars.
"But when he raps..." the same male voice returns, his tone sharper now, "he goes hard."
The clip ends with a snap, cutting to a boy in a light green shirt holding up a signed photo of Zayden and a girl in the same color hoodie.
"He gets real scary," she says, nodding. "So scary, like, you better watch out."
A new camera fades in—this time on two girls in matching oversized purple Rumir hoodies, standing near a merch booth with their arms crossed like bodyguards.
"He's pop-star royalty," one says coolly, brushing her braids over her shoulder.
"Uh-huh," the other hums, nodding like it's obvious. Like everyone should know.
The stream cuts to a vintage photo—three glamorous women posing under golden lights. A soft subtitle reads: The Sunlight Sisters."His mom was a Sunlight Sister," the narrator explains, tone softened. "She passed away when he was just an infant."
The scene shifts again—this time to a grainy flashback clip: Celine at the Idol Awards, holding a toddler Rumir, his eyes wide and sparkly under the stage lights.
Then another photo: Celine standing tall beside all three Huntr/X members, dressed to perfection in matching black suits.
"But Celine raised him," the voice continues, "and built Huntr/X around him."
Now the livestream jumps to a trio of girls decked out in Huntr/X gear—each one holding a different colored lightstick.
"Rumir's voice is just... incredible. Like—"
She trails off, looking up as if searching for the right word.
Smash cut.
Three adult men appear on screen, sniffling with full-blown tears in their eyes, tissues in hand.
"It brings us to tears!" they cry in unison, as dramatic music swells behind them.
"Then there's (Name)," the male narrator begins, just as the crowd noise dips for a split second—
Only to erupt again.
And when I say loud, I mean earthquake loud—like the stadium itself shook.
The camera snaps back to the narrator, who now wears a smirky grin.
"See what I mean?"
"(Name) isn't technically part of Huntr/X," says a girl from a group dressed head to toe in (Name) merch—shirts, hats, even face stickers. "But they might as well be! They're basically member number four. Half their songs are with Huntr/X anyway."
"They're doing a concert right after Huntr/X," another chimes in, like it's the best double feature of all time.
The livestream fades into a soft slideshow: little (Name) and Rumir, little older than toddlers, grinning on a swing set.
Then a shot of Huntr/X on stage—(Name) right there with them, mic raised, mid-note, all of them glowing under the lights.
"(Name) and Rumir were childhood best friends," the narrator explains gently. "But their schedules pulled them apart."
A pause.
"Eventually, they found their way back to each other... and that's how (Name) met Huntr/X."
Cut to a guy in sunglasses holding a vinyl of (Name)'s new album.
"Usually, (Name) sings about happy stuff, you know? Love, youth, all that." He flips the vinyl around. "But this new album? It's dark. Real dark."
Before he can say more, a girl leans into frame, dreamy-eyed.
"I love their new album," she sighs. "It shows us the dark side of (Name)..."
She pauses, then smirks like she just spilled a secret.
"And honestly? I find it so attractive."
Inside the massive twin-stadium venue, the lights dimmed low, fans swaying with glowsticks in hand. The camera finds a girl huddled with her friends near the front barricade, eyes shining.
"They're taking a break together," she says, voice already thick with emotion, "and they truly need it, but we're gonna miss them so mu—"
The entire stadium lights up in a flash of gold.
Lasers flicker, stage lights snap to life, and the crowd erupts.
"Everyone look alive! Alright, looking good over there—okay!"
Bobby strides across the stage, weaving through the rush of crew members, earpiece in, phone in hand.
One of the stagehands jogs up beside him, out of breath. "Are you ready?"
Bobby nods. "Ready." But something's off. He glances down at his phone, tapping the flight tracker app open.
The screen glows with a single blue icon:
Flight 7HX – In Air... Right Over the Stadium.
Bobby's brows furrow.
"What—where are they going?"
The hum of the jet surrounds them, soft clouds drifting past the windows like a dream.
Rumir leans forward at the small table between the plush seats, eyes focused but excited.
"Okay. This is our biggest show yet."
Zayden nods, arms crossed but clearly hyped.
"The most songs."
Miro stretches his neck dramatically before grinning.
"The most moves."
The three boys sit together in a circle around the table, their hands resting firmly on each other's shoulders like a secret sports huddle. There's a moment of silence—one filled with dramatic tension...
Then Rumir raises an eyebrow.
"Which means..."
"...the most carb loading."
And with perfect timing, all three shout in unison, fists in the air:
"For the fans!"
All three boys are now hunched over trays, devouring food like they haven't eaten in days. Gimbap disappears in seconds, chips are crushed without mercy, and wrappers pile up like snowdrifts.
"I need ten thousand calories just to survive the choreo," Rumir mumbles through a mouthful of rice, cheeks puffed like a chipmunk.
"A thousand percent. A gajillion percent," Miro nods with his own cheeks full, waving his chopsticks for emphasis.
Rumir squints at him. "Bro. That's not even a real number."
Miro shrugs, still chewing. "It is... for our fans."
Unbothered, Rumir lifts an absurdly long gimbap roll to his nose and inhales dramatically.
"Ah~."
Beside him, Zayden tears open a bag of chips and dumps them into his mouth like it's a sport.
Meanwhile, behind them, a flight attendant in oddly mismatched heels tiptoes down the aisle—holding a coffee pot and pouring it... into a potted plant. No one notices.
A beat passes, wrappers now empty, drinks finished. Silence settles as all three boys stare at the final course.
Rumir claps his hands together.
"Okay! Time for our pre-game ramyeon!"
He dramatically unveils a cup of instant noodles, and the others follow suit like it's a sacred ritual.
In unison, Zayden and Miro raise their cups.
"Happy fans."
Rumir lifts his with pride.
"Happy Honmoon!"
But when they all peel back the lids, their excitement instantly deflates.
"...There's no water in these," Zayden says, eyes wide, voice breaking just slightly with betrayal.
Rumir blinks, then looks around.
"Um, excuse me, miss?"
The boys turn toward the flight attendant—who, suspiciously, is still pouring coffee into the same plant. Slowly, she turns, giving them a sharp smile.
Rumir tilts his head, confused.
"We asked for hot water—"
"Right away! You're welcome! Arrivederci! Goodbye!"
She spins on her heel and speed-walks down the aisle like she's fleeing a crime scene.
There's a beat of silence.
Rumir, still watching her go, mutters,
"Uh... okay."
His phone buzzes in his lap. Rumir glances down and sees the caller ID flashing across the screen:
Bobby.
Rumir snatches up the buzzing phone and quickly answers.
"Yeah, hi!" the boys chime together, crowding the screen.
"Um—what are you doing?" Bobby's voice crackles through the speaker, confused and a little frantic.
Rumir turns the camera to Zayden, who's holding a sad, dry cup of ramyeon.
"About to eat our pre-show ramyeon."
"Pre-show? What about the show-show?" Bobby blinks, clearly not following.
Suddenly, Bobby's voice is cut off as a swarm of fans grabs his phone.
"We love you!" a few scream directly into the camera.
The boys immediately light up. Miro and Zayden lean closer, all three responding in chorus:
"Oh, we love you too!"
The phone passes next to the three crying men from earlier—still sniffling, still clutching tissues.
"That's so sweet," they sob, moved all over again.
Then a male fan jumps into view, holding up a fresh tattoo of Huntr/X's logo with (Name)'s initials woven in.
"Yo! I just got this!"
"Sick," Miro says, nodding.
Meanwhile, Rumir and Zayden both squint at the ink, clearly unsure if it's amazing... or terrifying.
Finally, Bobby wrestles his phone back.
"Gimme that! Why are you so late?!"
"Late?" Rumir echoes, brows furrowing.
"There are fifty thousand fans waiting for you! They made cute signs and everything!"
At that, the boys all turn to look out the plane window—
—and freeze.
The stadium is far behind them.
All three boys slowly shift their glares toward the flight attendant... who's still pouring coffee into the same poor plant.
Bobby's voice keeps going.
"How can you be late? I wish you were here—"
Rumir doesn't even look at the screen.
"Keep your shirt on. We'll be there in three."
He ends the call without another word.
Both Rumir and Miro groan.
"I didn't even get to finish my ramyeon!" Miro complains.
"Why do they always interrupt our snacking?" Rumir mutters.
Zayden, still chewing chips, growls,
"They will face my wrath."
Rumir stands up, adjusting his hoodie as he walks toward the attendant.
"Ma'am?"
The flight attendant doesn't turn.
"Please take your seat—"
"We don't have time," Rumir cuts her off. His tone sharpens. "You're a demon, right?"
She freezes.
"What do you mean?" she says too slowly, too carefully.
"You're smiling weird, watering plants with coffee, and your crew?" Rumir gestures behind her to the male attendants, one of whom is trying to buckle a seatbelt around his neck."They don't even know what a plane is."
"Oh—we were just—" she stammers.
Rumir grabs her wrist and pulls up her sleeve.
Purple marks glow faintly along her skin.
"Ah, look! Patterns."
"These? They're just—" she tries, but—
Rumir steps on her foot. She stumbles back into one of the male crew members—both fall, glitching mid-air before transforming into snarling demon forms.
Rumir doesn't flinch.
"The rest of you can come out. We're in a hurry."
Behind him, Zayden and Miro step forward, calm but focused. The atmosphere shifts.
The front of the plane creaks open, and a huge demon steps forward, body covered in pulsing marks.
He sneers.
"Oh, you've got the patterns? Well now... you gotta die."
Miro blinks.
"The only one dying tonight—"
Miro burps loudly, cutting the demon off.
The demon tries again.
"I said, the only ones dying tonight are—"
GURGLE.His stomach growls aggressively.
"...I'm sorry, what?" Rumir asks flatly.
"The fans!" the demon roars. "And the one you call (Name)! We're gonna eat them!"
All three boys freeze. Then—
"Whoa!" they all shout.
"No. No, no," Miro shakes his head.
"No thank you!" Zayden adds.
"Not our fans,"pausing for a second, "not our (Name)..." Rumir growls.
Zayden steps forward, voice low.
"When you mess with our fans... and (Name)..."
Miro cracks his knuckles, expression dead serious now.
"We need to make it hurt. Bad."
A low rumble starts. Not from the engines—but from the boys themselves.
Music kicks in—low, dark, electric.
And around them, the glow of the Honeymoon begins to shine.
Faint at first, but spreading through the cabin like a pulse.
The demons stop grinning.
BUZZ.A sharp vibration breaks the rising Honmoon glow.
Rumir flinches.
"Ah—wait, I'm getting a FaceTime."
He yanks his phone from his pocket and stares at the name flashing on the screen:
His breath catches.
He lets out a dramatic gasp.
"Oh my god—OMG."
He spins to the others, panic setting in.
"Boys! Do I look okay?!"
Zayden and Miro both freeze mid-step, confusion all over their faces.
"I mean, yeah?" Zayden says slowly.
"Your face looks like... your face," Miro shrugs.
"Okay good because (Name) is calling—"
"WHAT?!"Miro and Zayden cut him off in perfect sync, suddenly scrambling like they've been hit with lightning.
Zayden flips down the seat mirror, frantically adjusting his bangs.
Miro grabs a napkin from the tray table and tries to blot the shine off his forehead.
"Where's my concealer?! I swear I packed it—"
"Check under the seats!" Zayden shouts.
Meanwhile, Rumir is smoothing his hoodie and adjusting the collar like it's couture.
"I can't let them see me like this—I've been eating gimbap, for Honmoon's sake—"
The demons stand still, fangs halfway out, claws raised... blinking slowly.
One of them leans toward the other.
"Are they... scared of us?"
The other demon shrugs.
"...I think they're scared of this (Name) person."
Another nods in agreement, watching Miro lick his thumb to fix a strand of Rumir's hair.
"Humans are weird," the big one mutters.
Still, none of them move.
All three boys freeze as the FaceTime tone continues to ring.
And then...
The screen flickers—connecting.
Rumir gasps, phone in hand, posture suddenly perfect.
"Okay. Play it cool," he whispers. "Everyone smile.
(Name) appears on the phone, though they're not looking directly into the camera—just off to the side, a bit distracted.
"Hey, so... I'm gonna be late to the concert," they say casually.
Rumir's face lights up so fast and so hard it looks physically painful.
"Oh that's fine, (N/N)!" he says, voice cracking slightly as he beams wide enough to make his cheeks twitch.
Zayden and Miro lean in awkwardly behind him, both throwing up double peace signs like they're in a fan café video shoot. Miro mouths: "You look amazing," even though (Name) clearly isn't looking.
(Name), still glancing off-screen, finally looks down at their phone and squints.
"...Why are there demons just standing in the background?"
Behind them, the demons—who had momentarily been standing with mild confusion—now shift uncomfortably, realizing they've been noticed.
One of the smaller demons slowly ducks behind a seat.
Rumir immediately spins around, blocking the view with his entire body.
"Demons? Pshh—what demons? That's just, uh... our crew. Stage makeup. Very immersive."
Zayden nods way too fast.
"Yeah, they're testing out our Halloween concept. Early."
Miro leans into the phone with a tight, fake smile.
"Totally normal. Totally controlled. Totally not a demonic ambush mid-flight."
There's a loud snarl from the back.
(Name) raises an eyebrow higher.
"...You guys aren't in the stadium, are you?"
Rumir sweats.
"...Define stadium."
(Name) gives them the look. The one that says: I'm not mad. I'm just deeply disappointed in how bad you are at lying.
"Rumir," they say slowly, eyes narrowing at the screen, "are you on a plane right now?"
Zayden slaps a hand over it.
Miro jumps in with a shaky laugh.
"Plane? Nooo, this is a... sky-themed dressing room. You know. For pre-show vibes. Like a bird. Birds fly. We fly."
(Name) just stares.
Flat. Unimpressed.
Behind the boys, a demon slips on a gimbap tray and crashes to the floor with a demonic screech.
(Name) doesn't flinch.
"Right. The sky-dressing-room with background screaming."
Zayden leans into frame, chip crumbs still on his mouth.
"We can explain."
"No, you can't," (Name) fires back instantly, deadpan. "Because the last time you said that, Miro ended up in a tree dressed like a bat, and Rumir had a glowstick stuck to his forehead for three days."
"That was one time!" Rumir blurts through Zayden's hand.
(Name) sighs and pinches the bridge of their nose.
"I swear, if y'all are fighting demons without me—"
"No!" the boys say in perfect unison.
Rumir coughs. "Okay, yes. But just little demons. Tiny ones. Like travel-sized."
One of the demons behind them snarls, ten feet tall, horns scraping the plane ceiling.
(Name) squints at the screen. "That one literally just drooled fire."
Miro spins the camera slightly.
"That's—just atmospheric lighting. From the ramyeon. Spicy flavor."
(Name) shakes their head slowly.
"You guys are so lucky you're cute."
All three boys immediately soften, grins spreading across their faces like puppies getting praised.
"We know," Rumir says with a hopeful blink.
(Name) smiles, but it fades just slightly.
"Be careful. Seriously," they say, quieter now. "We're not just up against normal demons anymore. Not after what happened..."
The boys go still for a moment.
Zayden looks at Rumir, whose face shifts into something a little more serious.
"We'll be careful," Rumir says, no more joking in his voice now. "Promise."
A demon behind them roars.
Rumir flips the camera back to himself with a wince.
"Okay, slight delay on that careful thing. Gotta go, (N/N). Don't worry—"
"We got this," Miro finishes, flashing a wink.
Zayden blows a kiss.
"See you soon. Save us a spot."
(Name) rolls their eyes but smirks.
"I'll save you a front-row seat in the ER if you die."
The boys stand still for a second, the dark energy rising again around them.
Then Rumir cracks his knuckles.
"Okay. Time to turn up."
"Ugh, you came at a bad time but you just cross the line"
The plane shakes as the demons snarl. The boys walk forward through the aisle, calm and deadly. Spotlights darken across their faces.
"You wanna get wild? Okay, I'll show you wild!"
Miro and Zayden bolt forward, kicking off the seats and launching themselves into combat. In one synchronized move, they sweep two snarling demons off their feet, pinning them down with satisfying THUDS against the plane floor.
"Better come right, better luck tryin', gettin' to our level"
Rumir points a finger at the big demon stopping it in its tracks. Getting a hold to a kennel and filling it up with hot water before quickly turning around and doing a front flip kick the demon's face and drop kicking a smaller demon to the ground.
"Cause you might die, never the time, tryna start a battle. Bleeding isn't in my blood, "
He dodges left, letting another demon miss with its claws. One punch to the face, another to the gut—then Rumir grabs the creature by the neck and hurls it across the aisle, where it slams into the big demon's legs. Without missing a beat, he tosses the kettle to Miro.
"Beating you is what I do, do, do, yeah. Body on body, I'm naughty, not even sorry. And when you pull up, I'll pull up"
Miro catches it effortlessly and slams the kettle into a demon's skull, sending it flying into a seat. He tosses the kettle to Zayden, who clubs another one across the head, then casually pours hot water into his ramyeon cup like it's part of the choreography.
Zayden sets the kettle down, and Rumir and Miro line up beside him, each pouring water into their own cup.
"A little late to the party (Na-na-na-na). Locked and loaded, I was born for this. There ain't no point in avoiding it. Annoyed? A bit. 불을 비춰 다 비켜, 네 앞길을 뺏겨."
After beating a few more demons, Miro and Zayden try to eat their ramyeon but not before Rumir takes them away and shows them that you have to wait three minutes. Rumir set their cups down on a table.
"Knocking you out like a lullaby. Hear that sound ringing in your mind. Better sit down for the show. 'Cause I'm gonna show you how it's done, done, done"
Walking to the scared demon. One by one the boys grab their weapons from the Honmoon. Zayden with blades, Miro with a double sided spear, and Rumir with his sword. Killing the demons in the plane one by one.
"(Hey) Huntrix don't miss. How it's done, done, done. (Hey) Huntrix don't quit. How it's done, done, done."
The bodies fall. Smoke and embers rise within the plane.
"Run, run, we run the town. Whole world playin' our sound. Turnin' up, it's goin' down. Huntrix show this, how it's done, done, done"
The plane shakes violently. The boys stumble as the floor tilts. Their ramyeon cups fly up into the air—time seems to freeze.
But they each catch their noodles.
Rumir looks up at the window.
Outside, the demon flight attendant flaps away with half the plane in her claws, cackling like a banshee.
Two other demons rip off the plane's wing with a sickening metallic snap.
Miro peers out the opening, still holding his cup. "Yeah... this plane's trashed."
All three glance at each other, then scarf down the ramyeon in a single synchronized slurp.
Rumir wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking.
"Okay. Let's do this—again."
(Skipping to when they’re on stage because I’m so done.)
Yeah, something about when you come for the crown
Nothing to us, run up, you're done up, we come up
From sunup to sundown, so come out to play
We killin', we bring it, you want it? Okay (Us, hello?)
Knocking you out like a lullaby
Hear that sound ringing in your mind
“Look—it’s them!!” a fan screamed from the crowd, pointing up with wide eyes.
Gasps rippled through the stadium like a wave as thousands of heads turned skyward. Phones lifted, camera lights blinked on, and cheers erupted as three figures soared above the stadium lights—silhouetted against the evening sky.
.Knocking you out like a lullaby
Hear that sound ringing in your mind
Better sit down for the show
'Cause I'm gonna show you (I'm gonna show you)
(I'm gonna show you) How it's done, done, done
As the boys touched down on stage, a thick wave of smoke exploded outward from the impact—engulfing the platform in a blanket of silver haze. Lights flickered beneath the smoke, casting long, sharp shadows across the stage.
The crowd screamed, not just from excitement—but from suspense.
Only silhouettes were visible now: three tall figures standing still, backlit by blinding white lights—sharp, dangerous, calm.
A hunched, twitching shape near the corner of the stage—the last demon.
It stumbled forward, its form distorted and glitching, like it didn’t belong in this world. Its eyes glowed red, looking out at the screaming fans as if deciding which one it would take.
I don't talk, but I bite, full of venom (Uh)
Spittin' facts, you know that's
How it's done, done, done
Okay, like, I know I ramble
That's how it's done, done, done
The demon staggers back, growling—but it’s too late.
BOOM. A blast of energy from the stage knocks it flying off balance—straight into the barrier near the front of the crowd.
Fans scream and duck—but two girls closest to the crash site barely flinch.
One of them blinks. “Whoa… cool costume!”
The demon snarls, confused.
Click!Her friend holds up her phone, already snapping pictures. “Get in, get in! This is SO going on the fan page—come on, scary boy!”
The demon snarls again, reaching out—
FWIP. FWIP. FWIP.
Three blades fly from the stage in perfect sync—Zayden.The blades slice through the demon before it can even turn.
POOF—
It bursts into glitter.Silver and violet dust spirals through the air, raining over the girls like confetti.
The girls freeze, then cheer like they’re in the front row of a fireworks show.
“YEAHHH HUNTR/X!!!”
Up on stage, Miro struts forward, singing his verse with a smirk, walking the runway-like edge of the platform.
Zayden jumps down, crouching at the edge of the stage, his voice cutting like a knife as he raps into the crowd, the spotlight swirling around him.
Then—BAM! He kicks the camera in front of him, sending it flying into the sky, where it explodes in a burst of sparkling pixels.
Hear our voice unwavering
'Til our song defeats the night
Makin' fear afraid to breathe
Rumir takes center stage.
He hits the high note—strong, pure, electrifying.
It echoes like a wave across the arena.
Then something strange and beautiful happens.
In the crowd, little glows start to appear. One by one. Faint, then brighter.
Glowing soft blue within each fan’s chest.
Hundreds—then thousands.
Like stars rising from the sea of bodies.
The Honmoon reacts.
Pulses. Then glows—blinding blue.
The entire stadium lights up like it’s made of galaxies.
Run, run, we run the town (Done, done, done)
Whole world playin' our sound (Done, done, done)
Turnin' up, it's going down (Done, done, done)
Huntrix, show this how it's done, done, done
We hunt you down, down, down (Down)
We got you now, now, now (Got you now)
We show you how, how, how (Show you how)
Huntrix, don't miss, how it's done, done, done
As the boy dances on stage, the crowd sings along with him, voices rising like a tidal wave of energy. Amid the sea of lights and sound, Rumir, Miro, and Zayden catch a glimpse of something extraordinary—part of the Honmoon pulsing with a golden glow. The moment locks them in place. Their eyes meet, a silent understanding passing between them. They push harder, singing louder, dancing with renewed force—determined to make that golden light blaze brighter.
Then, as the final note echoes through the arena, the three boys strike their final pose.
And just like that—everything goes black.
Only the soft shimmer of glowsticks remains, scattering light like fireflies across the stunned audience. Confusion spreads like wildfire.
“Hey, what happened to the lights?” a fan calls out, but their voice trails off as something shifts.
Suddenly, every screen around the stadium lights up in perfect sync, revealing a figure staring down from above, cloaked in shadows but lit just enough for the smirk on their face to gleam through.
“They turned off the lights to hide the truth,” the voice says, cold and clear, dripping with confidence. “But I don’t need a stage to own a crowd. You were just keeping my seat warm, Huntr/x… because now—someone new has arrived.”
(Name) stands there, smiling wickedly—and the crowd erupts into chaos. And Huntr/x? They’re in love all over again.
Taglist (Comment if you want to be more I so sorry I forgot to add you guys to the other fic): @satansdaughter123, @reni502, @zomqiez, @sylum, @bad4amficideas, @apelepikozume, @notheroverthinker, @snowy-violet, @jackiebluh, @sunflowers4life, @elli4ever, @pl4netx1a
