You were somewhere in the middle of it all, pressed against the barrier, the cold metal digging into your ribs. Sweat clung to your skin, your ears rang, and you were pretty sure your voice was already gone.

And then you saw him.

Bang Chan had prowled his way to the edge of the stage, right in front of you, just a few meters away. His dark hair clung to his forehead, and there was that familiar glint in his eye—that mischievous spark that always made the crowd lose their minds.

He grinned, then pointed at you. Not at the crowd in general. At you.

It was impossible. Everyone knew it. The barrier was too tall, the gap too wide, security too alert.

But Bang Chan just kept looking at you. Waiting. Smirking like he knew exactly how flustered you were.