Chapter 82
Raiven lingered in the shower long after the door had clicked shut, the needles of cold water he had turned on a necessary penance for the fire Haru had ignited. He leaned his forehead against the damp marble, his chest heaving as he tried to recompose himself from man who had just been reduced to a trembling mess by a few biting words and a sharp nip to the lip. By the time he finally emerged, wrapped in a robe and smelling of shampoo, the room was quiet save for some muffled voices.
Raiven approached the bed with the silent, predatory grace of a dancer, intending to perhaps demand a rematch. However, as he drew closer, he realized he had fallen asleep.
Haru was sprawled across the massive bed, his phone clutched in a hand that had gone limp. He had been watching a clip but the exhaustion of travel and the residual haze of the rice wine had finally caught up. Raiven stepped closer, the soft carpet muffling his tread. He looked down at the man who had so effortlessly turned the tables on him, and a slow, helpless smile spread across his face.
Gently, Raiven reached down and slid the phone from Haru's fingers, turning off the glowing screen. He stood there for a moment, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of Haru's chest. He looked remarkably peaceful in his sleep, the sharp, defensive edges of his personality softened by the dark. Raiven quickly dried his hair, pulled on his pajamas, and slid into the bed beside him. He snuggled close, tucking his face into the crook of Haru's neck, letting the familiar scent fill his senses until he drifted off into the first deep sleep he'd had in weeks.
When Haru finally woke up. the space beside him was cold. He groaned, the bright Hong Kong sun slicing through a gap in the heavy curtains like a laser. His body felt refreshed, He groaned, stretching his aching limbs, and reached for his phone.A message from Raiven sat on the screen: "Early soundcheck. Didn't want to wake you. I haven't forgotten about last night."
The memory of the previous night, the boldness, the teasing, the way he had left Raiven breathless , sent a surge of pride through him. He hopped into the shower, the hot water washing away the last of his sleepiness, and prepared for the day.
Down in the lobby at around midday , Se-hee and Hae-rin were already waiting. Se-hee was a whirlwind of energy, her vlog camera practically glued to her hand. "Finally! The man of the hour emerges!" she teased, though her eyes were busy scanning the laid out buffet.
They ate quickly, the air filled with the nervous, excited energy of the tour's final day. They decided to head toward the stadium district early. It was a sea of activity; thousands of fans were already gathered, a vibrant mosaic of Re-Draft lightsticks and banners. They spent the afternoon lingering in the surrounding shops, eating street snacks and soaking in the atmosphere.
When they reached the official merchandise booths, Se-hee's "fan-girl" mode hit its peak. Haru, usually one for minimalism, found himself caught up in the fervor. Haru found himself decked out in an official oversized tour hoodie and clutching a sleek, matte-black lightstick that felt surprisingly heavy in his hand.
"You can't just buy the clothes, Haru! You need the plushies!" Se-hee declared, dragging him toward the plushie stand. After a ten-minute lecture on the plushies. Haru relented, walking away with three plushies. One represented Raiven, one for the golden-retriever-energy Suho, and one for the stoic Grey.
Inside the stadium, the scale of the event finally hit him. Raiven had secured them incredible seats. They spent the hour before the show filming snippets for Se-hee's vlog, with Haru and Hae-rin taking turns acting as her "cameramen" while she interviewed fans.
The show started thirty minutes late due to a minor technical glitch with the hydraulic lifts, but the delay only served to whip the crowd into a frenzy. When the lights finally plummeted and the first heavy bass notes of the intro thundered through the floor, Haru felt it in his marrow.
Unlike the last time he had seen them, Haru actually knew the lyrics now. He found himself singing along to the choruses, though he couldn't compete with Se-hee, who was screaming so loudly he genuinely feared for her vocal cords. Hae-rin was a more rhythmic presence, her gothic frame swaying and occasionally breaking into the choreography she knew by heart.
Then came Raiven's solo set.
The stadium transformed into a sea of blue light. As Raiven ascended the stage, looking like a celestial prince in shimmering silks, Haru felt his breath catch. This was the man who had been a "trembling mess" in a hotel shower only hours ago. Here, under the spotlights, he was a star. He sang with a raw, jagged passion that seemed to vibrate through the very air.
At one point, during a slower ballad, Raiven's gaze swept the crowd. Their eyes locked just for a heartbeat and Raiven offered a small, private smile that was intended for only one person in a room of fifty thousand.
Se-hee noticed immediately, shoving Haru excitedly and screaming into his ear, making him flush with a mixture of embarrassment and secret thrill.
The intensity shifted when Ash joined Raiven on stage. Their duo performance was even more visceral than Haru remembered. The choreography was a high-stakes game of tension and release, a physical manifestation of rivalry and desire. Haru watched. He wasn't the jealous type - he was far too secure in his own connection with Jae-wook for that plus he understood the "fan service" and the professional requirements of the industry. - but he found himself fascinated by Ash. He noted that despite their chemistry on stage, Raiven rarely spoke of him.
Hae-rin leaned over the roar of the music. "Don't overthink it!" she shouted. "Their friction isn't romantic. It's... history. Jae-wook and Neo trained together back in the day, and Ash has always felt like he's playing catch-up. Their fued is purely industry politics. They've been at each other's throats since trainee days."
Haru made a mental note. He wanted to befriend this "Ash." He wanted to understand the pillars that held up the world Raiven lived in.
As the concert reached its climax with the encore and the soaring anthem Badlands, the entire stadium singing the anthem in a deafening harmony. After a marathon encore, the screen went dark, only to be replaced by a sudden, flashing cryptic teaser for their next album flashed across the LED walls, and the resulting roar from the crowd was enough to rattle the windows of the stadium.
Backstage was a descent into a different kind of chaos. Celebrities, influencers, and industry titans were lined up near the dressing rooms, waiting for the "proof of attendance" photos. Haru, Se-hee, and Hae-rin hung back in a quiet corner, content to wait.
As they waited near the dressing rooms, the heavy double doors opened. Two figures walked out, surrounded by a small phalanx of assistants. A man in expensive, understated casual wear led the way, accompanied by a beautiful woman with a sharp bob who bore a striking resemblance to Raiven.
The man's eyes met Haru's for a split second. There was no recognition, only a chilling, high-altitude arrogance. He didn't spare Haru a second glance, moving past as if the people in the hallway were mere specks of dust.
Haru's breath hitched. He had seen this man before - when he went to visit the TRace he had been surrounded by executives qnd assistants briefing him
Hae-rin watched them go, her lip curling in a slight, involuntary sneer. She didn't say a word, but the tension in her jaw spoke volumes. She did not like them.
Hours passed. The air backstage smelled of hairspray, expensive cologne, and the metallic tang of adrenaline. Finally, the crowd thinned, and the crew began to break out the champagne. The tour was over.
Raiven spotted them and waved them over. Hae-rin was the first to reach him, pulling him into a massive hug and slapping his shoulder with pride. Se-hee followed, her usual bravado replaced by a shy, stammering congratulations. Then it was Haru's turn.
He stepped into Raiven's space, the heat radiating off the idol's body still intense. As they hugged, Haru leaned in close, his voice a ghost of a whisper against Raiven's ear.
"I got a special present for you," he murmured, a smirk playing on his lips.
Raiven pulled back, his eyes widening in genuine shock, a flash of the previous night's endeavours returning to his mind. Before he could respond, Suho practically tackled Haru from the side.
"Haru! You actually came!" Suho shouted, his face beaming. Suho launched himself at Haru, nearly knocking him over with a joyful hug.
Grey emerged from the dressing room, rolling his eyes at Suho's antics but offering a warm, respectful nod to Haru. Hae-rin, acting like the chaotic older sister she was, slapped Grey's butt in an encouraging gesture, causing the stoic dancer to flush a deep, brilliant pink.
Later Hae-rin pulled Raiven aside for a private chat and Se-hee became embroiled in a deep conversation with Suho and Grey about their favorite plushies, Haru saw his opening. Ash was walking out of the dressing room, looking exhausted. He had already changed into something more comfortable.
Haru stepped directly into his path. "Hello," he said, flashing a bright, disarming smile.
Ash stopped short, startled. He looked Haru up and down, his expression one of guarded annoyance. "You did really amazing out there," Haru continued.
"Thanks," Ash mumbled, trying to sidestep him.
"I'm Raiven's friend. Haru," he said, blocking the path again with a polite but firm movement.
Ash's eyes flickered toward Raiven, who was watching the interaction with a look of intense, curiosity. Ash turned back to Haru, letting out a frustrated sigh.
"Okay," Ash said, finally giving up.
""We're going out tomorrow night. To celebrate the end of the tour properly," Haru said. "Would you like to join us?"
Ash looked back at Raiven, then at Hae-rin. He seemed to be calculating the risks.
Finally, he looked back at Haru.The hostility in his eyes didn't vanish, but it flickered with a strange, hesitant curiosity. "I'll think about it," he said, before brushing past.
Haru felt Raiven's heavy, questioning gaze boring into the back of his head. Instead of explaining himself, Haru simply turned around and wrapped his arms around Suho's shoulders, leaning on him with a tired grin.
"So," Haru asked, his voice ringing out over the backstage chatter. "Where exactly is this after-party you aren't allowed to go to?" He teased them.