Kai doesn't know why his chest aches as he practices, why the mirrors feel colder than normal. He dances with precision—steps pristine, vocals crisp—but somewhere within, the rhythm breaks.
There's something missing, but he can't put his finger on it. It gnaws at him silently, like a shadow just beyond his grasp.
Ash stands by the side of the studio, chewing his lip raw. He hasn't uttered a word since yesterday, not after that message, not after the moment when he almost revealed everything to Kai. And now, seeing him dance—so flawless, so lost—he can't help but wonder if silence is turning into another betrayal.
Kai completes the last move, hands still up as if to catch something that never comes. The room politely applauds. East throws him a towel.
"You okay, man?" Mick asks.
Kai nods, panting. "Yeah. just tired."
But in his belly, something coils. A flash of a name in his mind—Noah—and he has no idea why it throbs again.
He shrugs it off. He tries to.
