"Welcome to LEAVEN, June," Cat said, offering him a soft, genuine smile.
"Thank you for having me," June replied, returning it with a small, reserved one of his own.
It was nothing like the smile the world remembered.
So far removed from the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed K-pop idol he once was that looking at him now felt like staring at a completely different person. The naïve sparkle was gone. In its place stood someone who had lived. Someone who had been dragged through the world and survived it—barely.
"I have a suggestion," Foca said suddenly, drawing everyone's attention to him. "It seems like you have a lot to say, June. But for reasons I'm sure most people here already understand… you can't exactly speak your heart freely."
He paused, eyes steady on June.
"So why don't you let your voice do it for you? Sing your heart out. Tell your story that way. We'll listen."
Cat glanced at June immediately. "Are you okay with that?" she asked gently, making sure he wasn't being cornered into anything.
"Yes, of course," June answered without hesitation.
He turned toward Foca and bowed—deeply, respectfully—wordlessly thanking him for giving him space. For letting the performance speak before the questions ever could.
June walked to center stage.
A mic stand waited for him.
That alone caught people off guard.
As much as they didn't want to admit it, somewhere in the back of their minds, an image of June had already formed—frozen in time, preserved from before. Before the scandal. Before the fall.
But the June standing there now shattered that image completely.
And that realization made people feel… things.
Sadness. Regret. Unease.
Nothing pleasant. Not even close.
The lights dimmed.
Hearts started pounding—inside the theater, across living rooms, dorms, phones glowing in the dark. This wasn't just anticipation anymore.
For some, it was desperation. A plea for him to be brilliant. To prove—yet again—that he was still the same talented June they had watched get unfairly ripped apart.
For others…
It was darker.
A sick kind of excitement. Curiosity sharpened by malice. They wanted to see how far he'd fallen. How broken he was now. How low he'd stooped.
They were waiting for his doom.
Unfortunately for them—or perhaps for everyone—June didn't step onto that stage to prove anything. Not his worth. Not his talent. Not his innocence.
He stood there for one reason only.
To find out if the stage was still his safe haven.
If it was still home.
If it could still be his sanctuary.
The music began.
The massive LED screen behind him bloomed into a bright field of flowers, stretching endlessly under a clear sky. It was breathtaking. Almost deceptively so.
The song opened with a light, airy a cappella—June's voice bright, breathy, adorned with delicate vocal ornaments.
It sounded happy.
It was supposed to feel that way.
But it didn't.
Not even a little.
What crept into the room instead was dread.
Quiet. Subtle. The kind that doesn't announce itself until it's already wrapped tight around your chest. The kind you only recognize once it's too late.
It felt like watching a horror unfold in broad daylight.
Then June sang.
🎶 Crowned in flowers, hand in hand
They said "trust me," I said "I can"
Summer air feels sugar-sweet
Every step pulls me deeper in 🎶
People gasped.
Not because it was pretty—but because it was bare. His voice wasn't performing; it was confessing. Each line landed like he was leaning across the mic, begging them to listen.
This wasn't the June they remembered.
That June suddenly felt manufactured. Polished. Fake.
The man singing in front of them now was painfully real.
No facades. No masks. No version crafted by a company or upheld by fans who loved the idea of him more than the person.
This—this—was June.
As the song continued, the brightness in his tone slowly began to erode, slipping away line by line.
🎶 I stayed and stayed for the shit show
Lights on me like a freak show
Every cheer feels like a test
Still I smiled, gave my best 🎶
The cuss word hit the audience like a slap.
A collective wince rippled through the room—not from offense, but from impact. Because with every lyric, it felt like he was carving pieces out of himself and laying them bare.
And each word didn't just hurt him.
It stabbed straight through them.
As the performance went on, it became harder and harder to watch.
Harder to listen.
June wasn't just singing anymore—he was unraveling his story, thread by thread. Through the song, he likened the industry to entering a cult. How he'd walked in willingly, smiling, hopeful, believing in promises whispered sweetly into his ears. Only for everything to be ripped away the moment it had a firm grip on him.
He sang about the impossible, almost inhuman expectations piled onto his shoulders—by his company, by the fans, even by his own family. Expectations so heavy that, over time, he stopped recognizing the person staring back at him in the mirror.
He mourned that version of himself.
Grieved the stranger he had become.
He sang about feeling trapped—about how debuting was supposed to be sunshine and rainbows, applause and dreams coming true. How naïve he had been. So young. So easy to mold. So easy to control.
And when he finally tried to break free—when he dared to push back—no one liked that.
So they destroyed him.
After all, what use is a tool that no longer obeys?
They clipped his wings mid-flight.
Let him fall.
Alone.
By the time the final chorus arrived, there wasn't a single dry eye in the room.
Listening hurt—God, it hurt—but no one turned away. No one covered their ears. They stayed. Because something deep inside them knew they owed him this.
They owed June their attention.
Their silence.
Their willingness to finally listen.
To hear his side of the story.
🎶 Oh the midsummer nights
Oh silver moon oozing blight
Crowned in flowers, dressed in white
Love looked perfect from the outside
Beautiful lie that's choking me
I beg for release, kept coming back instead
Going around and around and around we go
If you ask me if I wanted to stay
I'd whisper, "no… please let me go." 🎶
Most people did stay.
Some couldn't handle the truth—and so they did what they always did best.
They clung to their delusions.
When the performance ended, June stood there, breathing hard. Each breath looked labored, as if the song had taken something tangible from him—body, mind, soul.
And maybe it had.
It was a stark reminder of the harrowing journey he'd endured just to make it to the final note.
Still standing center stage, June kept his head bowed. His eyes were squeezed shut, chest heaving, hands clenched at his sides.
The atmosphere in the theater was suffocatingly heavy.
No one dared to speak.
Only quiet sobs filled the air.
Soft crying.
The sound of hearts breaking—together.
****
PS - You can listen to "Midsummer Nights" in full at YouTube (@FocacciaBread-Music), Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/album/7mOicruO8fBAcaoSDZ7RGg?si=lUkMtVSbRMOsZyjRhmJxCQ) or other digital streaming platforms.
****
Full Lyrics:
[Verse]
Crowned in flowers, hand in hand
They said "trust me," I said "I can"
Summer air feels sugar-sweet
Every step pulls me deeper in
They say I'm lost, say I should run
But your voice says "you're the chosen one"
Softest touch, sharpest smile
I didn't know I'd stay awhile
I stayed and stayed for the shit show
Lights on me like a freak show
Every cheer feels like a test
Still I smiled, gave my best
[Pre-Chorus]
Inside my head, I begged to wake up
But the dream won't let me go
Every truth dressed up as love
And I swallowed it whole
[Chorus]
Oh the midsummer nights
Oh silver moon oozing blight
Dancing barefoot on bones and lies
Calling it love while I slowly die
Beautiful lie that's choking me
I beg for release, kept coming back instead
Going around and around and around we go
But if asked if I wanted to go
I'd say, "please, let me go"
[Rap]
Got lured, got trapped, no way out
Like a pet fish swimming circles in a glass bowl
Smiles stitched tight, don't make a sound
They call it devotion, I call it being owned
The monster under my bed told me to behave
Bleeding me dry like I fucking crave
Praise tastes sweet when you're starved for love
Till the sky caves in from above
Chants in my ears, I nod on cue
Say "I'm free" while they tighten the noose
I sold my name, I kissed the flame
Now I don't recognize who I became
[Chorus]
Oh the midsummer nights
Oh silver moon oozing blight
Hands so gentle, eyes so kind
Still they sharpened me to sacrifice
I stayed and stayed knowing full well
That I'm fading like flowers, my petals fell
Oh this sweet torture became my living cell
They called it heaven, I knew it was hell
[Bridge]
Petals rot where promises lay
They taught me how to kneel, not pray
I screamed into the open sky
But everyone smiled as I cried
[Final Chorus]
Oh the midsummer nights
Oh silver moon oozing blight
Crowned in flowers, dressed in white
Love looked perfect from the outside
Beautiful lie that's choking me
I beg for release, kept coming back instead
Going around and around and around we go
If you ask me if I wanted to stay
I'd whisper, "no… please let me go."