The encore lights faded. The curtain dropped again. And just like that, it was over.
Haru didn't remember walking offstage. His body moved on muscle memory, legs trembling but trained not to show it. He only came back to himself when the dressing room door shut behind them, muffling the crowd.
Silence.
Then: Minhee let out a yell so loud it scared the stylists in the hallway.
"We actually did it!" he shouted, arms flailing. "We debuted!"
Shiro dropped onto the floor, laughing into the carpet. "Someone check if we're dreaming."
Riki leaned against the vanity mirror, blinking at his reflection like he didn't recognize it.
Seojun quietly unclipped his mic pack. "Don't cry. Anyone cries, I'm leaving."
Nobody cried. But nobody spoke either, not for a minute.
Haru sank into the corner couch, hands still curled around his mic even though it was long dead.
He looked up.
Minju sat on top of the coat rack. Legs dangling. Silent. Her eyes never left him.
"You didn't just survive that stage," she said softly. "You owned it."
He exhaled slowly. "It doesn't feel real yet."
"Good," she replied. "Don't let it. Not completely."
Just then, his phone buzzed. And buzzed again. And again.
He opened it.
Messages. Notifications. Mentions.
Trending Topic #2: #EclipseDebut
Trending Topic #5: #SilverVocalist
Trending Topic #8: #WhoIsHaru
Every second, a new comment appeared.
"The silver-haired one sings like he's been through hell.""I didn't even stan before but that voice?? That voice??""Can't stop rewatching his bridge part. There's something off in his eyes but I'm obsessed.""Haru looks like a ghost fell in love with him.""He sings like he's been haunted since birth and I love that for him."
Haru froze at that last one.
Minju leaned closer behind his shoulder, reading it too.
"They're not wrong," she whispered, amused.
He turned to say something—
But she was gone.
Not floated away. Not hiding.
Just… not there.
He stood suddenly, spinning in place.
"Minju?"
The others looked up.
Seojun furrowed his brow. "Who?"
Haru blinked. "I said—Min—never mind."
Minhee laughed, tossing a water bottle at him. "You okay, ghost prince?"
Shiro added with a wink, "Still channeling your haunted bridge energy?"
Haru forced a grin. "Yeah. Just… hearing things."
But in his chest, the tension curled again. That wrong feeling.
He excused himself, slipping out into the hallway. Empty. Cold under the stage lights. He walked toward the back exit, checking corners.
Then stopped.
There she was. Minju. Sitting alone on a flight case. Her arms were around her knees.
"Haru," she said without looking up. "I forgot something."
He knelt beside her. "What is it?"
"I forgot what it felt like to debut."
His breath caught.
"You said you wanted to become an idol to meet them," he murmured. "Your idols."
She shook her head. "No. I said that out loud. But what I meant… was that I wanted to become an idol so someone would look at me the way people looked at them."
She looked up.
Eyes wide.
And… something in them missing.
"But I can't remember what I was chasing anymore."
Haru stared at her.
This wasn't like before. She wasn't just tired.
She was glitching.
Like a radio frequency slipping out of range.
Like something — someone — was unraveling.
He reached out, fingers trembling. "Minju—"
Her voice cut in, quieter.
"What if I wasn't supposed to stay this long?"