Disclaimer: This story is based on a fictional plot featuring fictional characters in a completely imaginary setting. Any resemblance to real people, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Please note that this text may contain mistakes or imperfections, as English is not the author's native language.
Win leaned against the wall of the dance hall and quietly watched his laughing friends. He held a towel and a bottle of water in his hand, because after several hours, he really couldn't take it anymore. The music was still playing too loud to make out individual words, but their laughter cut through it anyway. Their footsteps hit the floor precisely, rhythmically, but between each move they managed to tease each other, shove one another, and mess up the choreography just to laugh even harder.
They looked... carefree.
As if there were no pressure.
As if they weren't worried that everything they were doing right now could mean absolutely everything—or absolutely nothing—in a few weeks.
They were part of their little group. Locked in their own world, where the only thing that mattered was whether they'd land the next step, whether they'd stay in sync, whether they could harmonize without arguing. And maybe that really was enough for them.
At least for a moment.
They were nobodies.
And yet, one performance was all it took.
From the moment they first stood together on stage, something changed. People at the university started noticing them. At first, subtly—glances down the hallway, whispers among small groups. Then more boldly. Phones held a little higher, secret photos taken, chance encounters that weren't quite so chance.
And Win noticed that not everyone was experiencing it the same way.
Liam, for example, never seemed taken aback by it.
He remembered that day perfectly. The cafeteria was more crowded than usual; the noise echoed off the walls and mingled with the scent of Thai curry, which he was craving so much. When they walked in, a few heads turned. Then more. And more.
Win hesitated for a second. As if he'd frozen in mid-step.
Liam didn't.
He walked over to their usual table as if nothing had changed and leaned his back against the corner of it with complete nonchalance. The girls standing closest to them needed no more than a few seconds. They came closer.
Liam smiled.
Not that uncertain smile you put on when you don't know what to do. It was the exact opposite—controlled, natural, almost effortless. He leaned toward them to hear them better, responding to every sentence as if it were important. He laughed at the right moments, nodded, maintained eye contact.
When they asked for a photo, he automatically smoothed his hair. Just a quick flick of the hand. Then he turned slightly.
A better angle.
Win noticed it right away. He always noticed it.
And it always fascinated him.
Liam had no trouble connecting with anyone. He could make it seem as if the moment mattered. As if those people weren't just another in line.
And maybe that was exactly why they kept coming back.
Win smiled wryly at the thought. In moments like these, Liam didn't seem like a music student. More like a queen standing before a crowd, assuring them that everything was exactly as it should be.
Keng was different. And yet the same.
While Liam responded to people, Keng sought them out. He had no problem approaching anyone—older students, organizers, random people who looked like they might be helpful. And when he wasn't talking, he was on the phone. Constantly.
Scrolling. Texting. Checking.
He took social media more seriously than any of them. He knew what worked, what would grab attention, what could take them further.
Win couldn't imagine they'd have managed even the first step without their youngest member.
Thomas....or rather Q, since, as he said: „I don't feel like saying such a long name and wasting time,".... he was somewhere in the middle of it all.
He never pushed himself forward, but at the same time, it was impossible to overlook him.
One glance was enough.
Sometimes he would just lean against the wall, hands folded on his chest, and watch the goings-on around him with an expression that made it seem as if the whole thing bored him slightly. At first, Win thought he was one of the models and not one of them.
But even that arrogant look was enough.
Fans found him without even trying.
He and Earth stood on the sidelines of it all.
Dangerously alike.
On stage, they came across differently. Win's voice was clear, strong; it could fill the room effortlessly. Earth was quick, precise; his words flowed at a pace that demanded full attention.
Off stage, however...
They were quiet. Or rather, Win was only loud around people he knew. That's when he could really let loose and act up.
Otherwise, they weren't the type to seek attention. Quite the opposite, in fact. If they had the chance to avoid being photographed, they did. If they could leave early, they left. Maybe that's why they ended up sharing a dorm room.
It wasn't immediate.
It wasn't loud.
They didn't recount their lives in a single night; they didn't sit across from each other and share everything at once. It happened slowly. In bits and pieces.
A sentence here. A remark there. A silence that wasn't uncomfortable.
Earth wrote lyrics. And some of them were written right then—at night, when the world fell silent and they sat across from each other, each lost in their own thoughts, yet strangely close. In those moments, they understood each other best.
And then there was Sun.
Win couldn't imagine anyone else in his place.
It was there even before the music, the rehearsals, the agencies. Before the dream even emerged.
He remembered their childhood all too vividly. Chases for ice cream that ended with a broken nose. The first time riding a scooter, after which Sun ended up on the ground with a scraped elbow, and the two of them stood in front of the house, unable to decide whether it was worse to admit the truth or to lie.
Sun was always the one who talked. Win was the one they listened to.
And when their first relationships came along, Sun took advantage of it. He'd casually lure girls with the promise of introducing them to his younger friend, telling them they'd be part of something bigger.
Win always laughed at that. It never bothered him.
Because he… didn't want any of that. Ever.
From the start, he knew what he wanted.
To be an idol.
And to go after it, no matter what price he'd have to pay.