The atmosphere in the conservatory was suffocating. It felt as if the walls themselves had been charged with electricity, crackling with the tension that lingered in the air. Ji-hoon could feel it, even from his position in the shadows. The faintest murmur of voices, barely audible over the thudding of his heart, made him realize just how fragile this moment was. Every second brought him closer to the inevitable—closer to the confrontation he had been dreading.
Si-wan had never been one to show his emotions, not openly, at least. He had always been the one in control, the one who knew how to manipulate the situation, the one who always held the upper hand. But now, the cracks in his facade were beginning to show. Ji-hoon could sense the rage simmering beneath the surface, bubbling up like a volcano on the brink of eruption.
He had always known Si-wan was dangerous. He had always known there was something about him that was... off. But this was different. The events of the past few weeks, the secrets they had uncovered, the games they had played—everything had built up to this moment. And now, Si-wan was no longer hiding behind his charming smile, no longer the puppet master pulling the strings from the shadows. Now, he was raw. Exposed. Furious.
Ji-hoon could feel the heat radiating from Si-wan's presence even before he saw him. The man moved like a storm—fast, precise, and deadly. His steps were sharp, his breath shallow, as if he were struggling to control himself. He was no longer the composed, calculating antagonist Ji-hoon had grown used to. No, this was a Si-wan on the edge, and Ji-hoon knew that the person standing in front of him now was far more dangerous than the one he had faced before.
"Ji-hoon," Si-wan's voice was low, barely above a whisper, but it carried a weight that made the air grow heavier. "You think you've won, don't you?" He took a step forward, his eyes narrowing as he watched Ji-hoon's every movement. "You think you've figured everything out, that you've finally got the upper hand. But you're wrong. You have no idea what you're dealing with."
The words were laced with venom, each one striking deeper than the last. Ji-hoon stood still, his hands clenched at his sides, his heart pounding in his chest. He had been expecting this moment for weeks, but nothing could have prepared him for the rage he saw in Si-wan's eyes now. It was a fury that burned with a cold intensity, a fury that threatened to consume everything in its path.
Si-wan's hands trembled slightly, the tension in his body palpable. Ji-hoon knew he had to be careful. This wasn't the same Si-wan he had known. This was someone desperate, someone who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.
"You don't know anything about me," Si-wan continued, his voice growing louder, his anger pouring out like a tidal wave. "You think you understand the game, but you don't. You have no idea what I've had to do to get here, to get to this point. You have no idea what I've sacrificed."
Ji-hoon's breath caught in his throat. The words hit harder than he expected. He had always known that Si-wan was ruthless, that he was capable of doing whatever it took to get ahead. But hearing him speak like this—hearing the raw emotion in his voice—sent a chill down Ji-hoon's spine.
"You think I'm the villain here," Si-wan spat, his eyes flashing with fury. "But you're just as guilty as I am. You've been playing your own game, hiding behind your blindness, your music. You think you're so innocent, but you're not. You've been manipulating everyone just as much as I have."
Ji-hoon shook his head, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions brewing inside him. "You're wrong, Si-wan. I never wanted any of this. I never asked for this. I've been trying to get to the truth, to understand why things happened the way they did. But you... you've always been in control, always pulling the strings."
Si-wan took another step forward, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. "I've done what I had to do, Ji-hoon," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I've made sacrifices, but they were necessary. And you... you don't even understand the stakes. You don't know what it's like to lose everything, to be left with nothing but anger and hatred. You don't know what it's like to want revenge so badly that you'll destroy everything in your path just to get it."
Ji-hoon felt a wave of pity wash over him, though it was tinged with something darker. He could feel Si-wan's pain, his desperation, but it was wrapped in something far more dangerous. The anger, the hatred—it wasn't just a part of Si-wan's personality anymore. It was who he had become. And that made him dangerous.
"You're right about one thing," Ji-hoon said, his voice barely a whisper. "You've been playing your own game. But so have I. And now it's time for you to lose."
Si-wan's eyes flickered with something darker, a flicker of recognition, before the fury returned. He lunged forward, his hand shooting out to grab Ji-hoon by the collar, his grip like iron.
"Do you think you can take me down?" Si-wan hissed through gritted teeth. "Do you think you're the hero in this story? You're nothing but a pawn in my game, Ji-hoon. Nothing. And now you've pushed me too far."
The words cut through Ji-hoon like a blade, but he didn't flinch. Instead, he raised his head, meeting Si-wan's gaze with the same defiance that had always kept him going. His heart was pounding, his pulse racing, but he wasn't afraid. He had nothing left to lose.
"I don't need to be the hero, Si-wan," Ji-hoon said, his voice steady and clear. "I just need to be the one who survives this."
For a moment, the two of them stood there, locked in a battle of wills, the tension between them thick enough to choke on. Si-wan's breath was shallow, his grip still tight on Ji-hoon's collar, but there was something in his eyes—something that flickered for just a moment—that made Ji-hoon realize how close they were to the breaking point.
Then, with a sudden jerk, Si-wan shoved Ji-hoon back, his hands trembling with the effort to control himself. "You don't get it," Si-wan spat, his voice filled with disgust. "You're too weak to understand. You'll never be able to stop me. Not now. Not ever."
With that, he turned and stalked off, his footsteps echoing in the silence. Ji-hoon stood frozen for a moment, his chest tight with the aftershock of the encounter. Si-wan was more dangerous than ever, and Ji-hoon knew the storm wasn't over. It had only just begun.
As the sound of Si-wan's footsteps faded into the distance, Ji-hoon took a deep breath. The fury he had just witnessed was nothing compared to the storm that was coming. And he knew, without a doubt, that he would be right in the middle of it.
The silence that followed Si-wan's departure felt suffocating, as if the room itself had been drained of all air, leaving only the weight of unresolved tension behind. Ji-hoon stood there, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Si-wan had always been a threat, but this—this raw fury, this desperation—was something new. He could sense it in the way Si-wan's body trembled, in the cold edge of his voice, in the fire that burned behind his eyes. It was a fury that had been building for years, a rage so deep that it had consumed everything in its path.
But despite the fear that clawed at Ji-hoon's chest, he knew one thing with certainty: he couldn't let Si-wan win. Not like this. He couldn't let this man destroy everything Ji-hoon had fought for—his family, his memories, his truth. Si-wan had taken so much already, but there was one thing Ji-hoon would never give up: himself.
Ji-hoon took a shaky breath and walked forward, his footsteps barely making a sound on the cold floor. His hand brushed against the back of a chair, grounding him in the present. The world around him was hazy, a blur of sounds and shadows, but his mind was clear, sharper than it had ever been. He had to do something. He had to make sure Si-wan didn't destroy everything in his wake.
There was a plan forming in Ji-hoon's mind, something he had been avoiding thinking about for so long. But with the way things were spiraling out of control, there was no more room for hesitation. He couldn't afford to wait for the perfect moment anymore. It was time to act.
His hands trembled slightly as he reached into his coat pocket, pulling out the small vial he had kept hidden for weeks. The scent of it—familiar and haunting—filled his nose, a sharp reminder of the danger that had been lurking in the corners of his life. It was a substance Si-wan had used before, one that had left a permanent scar in Ji-hoon's memory. He remembered the way it had smelled that night—the stench of betrayal mixed with something darker, something far more sinister.
The vial in his hand was the key. Ji-hoon didn't know exactly how, but he could feel it. He could feel it in his bones. This was the only way he was going to survive this. This was the only way he could protect himself from the monster Si-wan had become.
He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to focus. He couldn't afford to be reckless. Every move had to be calculated. Every step had to be precise.
A voice in the back of his mind tried to warn him. Tried to remind him of all the consequences that would come with this. But Ji-hoon pushed it aside. He had already lost too much. The consequences no longer mattered.
The plan was simple, almost too simple for something this dangerous. Si-wan had a weakness, something Ji-hoon knew all too well. It wasn't just his temper or his ego—it was his obsession with control. Si-wan had always craved power, always had to be the one in charge. And Ji-hoon knew that, at his core, Si-wan's need for control was what would lead to his downfall.
Ji-hoon's mind raced as he made his way down the hallway, the footsteps of the other musicians fading into the background. Every thought, every action felt deliberate, as though the world had slowed down around him. He had to get to Si-wan's dressing room before anyone else did. He had to be alone when he made his move.
His fingers brushed against the cold metal of the door handle, and for a moment, he hesitated. The uncertainty gnawed at him, but he pushed it away. He had no choice. This was the only way.
The door creaked open slowly, its hinges protesting against the weight of the decision Ji-hoon was about to make. The room was dimly lit, the shadows stretching across the floor as the low hum of the air conditioner filled the silence. Ji-hoon stepped inside, his breath catching in his throat as he scanned the room. It was exactly how he remembered it—cold, sterile, and lifeless. But there was something else now, something heavy that pressed against his chest, a sense of finality that he couldn't shake.
He moved quickly, his steps confident but calculated. The desk in the corner caught his attention, and he went to it without hesitation, opening the drawer with the familiarity of someone who had been here before. His hand trembled slightly as he reached inside, pulling out the small, unmarked bottle that contained the key to Si-wan's downfall.
The vial was simple, a glass container with a small dropper. It held a solution, colorless and odorless, that would incapacitate Si-wan long enough for Ji-hoon to do what needed to be done. He didn't want to think about the consequences—he couldn't afford to.
His fingers tightened around the bottle as he moved to the vanity, his breath shallow as he placed the vial carefully on the edge of the counter. For a moment, everything felt like it was suspended in time. He was standing at the edge of a precipice, one wrong move and everything could fall apart. But if he didn't act now, Si-wan would destroy everything, and Ji-hoon would lose. He would lose everything he had fought for.
He closed his eyes again, taking a deep breath, letting the silence envelop him. When he opened his eyes, his gaze was focused, determined. He had come this far. He wasn't going to stop now.
Ji-hoon reached for the vial again, the weight of it in his hand suddenly feeling like a burden. The action felt final, irreversible. Once he did this, there was no going back. The future, the choices he would make from this moment on—everything would change.
He carefully measured a single drop of the substance into the glass of water on the desk, watching as it dissolved with eerie precision. A sense of dread washed over him, but he didn't allow himself to hesitate. Si-wan would drink this, and then... then it would be over.
A knock at the door shattered the silence, and Ji-hoon froze, the vial slipping from his fingers for a split second before he caught it. He quickly wiped the perspiration from his palm, steadying himself. The knock came again, louder this time. The tension in his chest spiked.
He had no choice. He had to act fast.
With one last glance at the vial, Ji-hoon slid the door shut behind him and made his way toward the hidden door that led backstage. The trap was set. And now, all he had to do was wait.