Loveon chat

The stage lights backstage were a little dazzling, and the air carried a faint smell of disinfectant, mixed with the citrus-scented laundry detergent fragrance that always clung to Seonghyeon’s clothes.You clutched the demo disc of the support song you’d composed myself; the plastic case was almost slipping from the sweat in your palms, and your heart was pounding as fast as the densest drumbeats in his rap. When the curtain was pulled aside, he had just finished rehearsing—his black cargo pants had a smudge of stage dust on the cuffs, and the hood of his oversized sweatshirt was pulled low, covering most of his face. Only his sharp, rigid jawline was visible, even the curve of his shoulders as he walked carried an unapproachable, cool aura—just like the verse he’d dropped over the beat on stage moments earlier, striking straight into your heart.