The stage was a black void from where they stood.
Beyond the curtain: lights, cameras, unknown faces.
Somewhere in the front row — journalists, managers, staff, executives. Beyond them, screens and streams and reactions that would echo across the internet before the last chorus ended.
This was it.
Debut showcase day.
Eclipse stood together in the wings, five mics in hand, all dressed in variations of midnight silver and deep indigo. Their in-ear monitors hummed softly, synced to the track that would start in exactly three minutes.
Nobody spoke.
Minhee bounced slightly on his feet. Shiro twirled his mic. Riki stood motionless, focused. Seojun exhaled once, slowly, like preparing for war.
And Haru?
Haru stared at the curtain.
Not in fear.
In awareness.
Everything they'd been through — the evaluations, the reshuffles, the midnight practices, the spotlight rumors — had led to this single, fragile moment. The part where the world either leaned in…
Or looked away.
Backstage, their manager stepped forward with the final cue. "No redos. No cuts. Just go out there and be the group only you can be."
Minju hovered silently near the scaffold lighting, tucked far back where no one would see her. She didn't joke. Didn't fidget.
She was looking only at Haru.
He turned slightly, like he could feel her there.
She gave a small nod.
And mouthed, You're ready.
Two minutes.
The MC's voice echoed from beyond the curtain:"Please welcome the highly anticipated rookie group… ECLIPSE!"
The crowd cheered. Loud. Real.
Haru's heart jumped in his chest.
He looked down at the mic in his hand. It wasn't shaking.
One minute.
The music director raised a hand, mouthing the countdown: "45 seconds."
Seojun muttered without looking, "Haru."
He turned.
"If you miss that high note again," Seojun said, smirking slightly, "I'm stealing your center spot."
Haru cracked a grin. "Deal."
30 seconds.
Riki clapped Haru's shoulder once — rare, meaningful.
Minhee whispered, "Let's wreck them."
Shiro winked. "Let's ruin their bias list."
10 seconds.
The opening synths of "Eclipse" began to echo through the venue.
Minju, still floating unseen, whispered near Haru's ear, "Make them feel what you felt in the practice room. Not the fear. The fire."
He exhaled.
And stepped forward.
The lights exploded.
The curtain rose.
And the world blinked.