The adrenaline crash was real.
One minute, I was a gymnastics god basking in the screams of a thousand students. The next, I was sitting on a folding chair backstage, clutching a lukewarm water bottle, my arms trembling from the exertion.
"You're trending," a voice chirped.
Kang Min-ah popped up from behind a costume rack, waving her phone.
"Look. The Kirin's Secret forum is melting. 'Who is Muscle Guy?', 'Exchange Student Glow Up', and my personal favorite: 'Is his hair waterproof?'"
"Stop it," I mumbled, wiping my forehead with a towel carefully so as not to disturb the "Comma." "Chae-rin would kill me if a single strand moved."
"Speaking of the Queen," Min-ah lowered her voice. "She crushed it. Mr. Harz is still blowing his nose in the tissue box. But... have you heard about Team D?"
I paused, bottle halfway to my mouth. "The Mystery Group for the Applied Performance evaluation?"
"Yeah. Rumor has it Professor Kim brought in a 'Special Unit' just to spice things up. Some say it's third-years. Some say it's a secret project from the principal." Min-ah shuddered. "If they're better than $iren or Prism, your duet might be in trouble."
"Great," I sighed, crushing the bottle. "More sharks in the tank."
I changed back into my uniform and walked out to the courtyard.
The sun was beginning to dip, painting the sky in bruised purples and oranges.
The school was buzzing with activity.
Student Council members were running around with walkie-talkies.
The stage crew was hauling massive speakers toward the outdoor amphitheater for tomorrow's main event.
I found H-Wnot sitting on the steps of the library.
"There he is," Jin-hyun grinned, looking up from his phone. "Mr. Viral Sensation. I saw the video. Nice deltoids."
"Shut up," I sat down next to Jun-seo, who looked like he was vibrating with anxiety.
"Tomorrow is the day," Jun-seo whispered, staring at his calloused fingertips. "The Combined Evaluation in the morning. The Main Stage in the evening. It's... a lot."
"We're ready," Myung-dae said gruffly.
He looked at me.
"We meet at 7:00 AM," Jun-seo announced, standing up. "Sound check for H-Wnot is at 12:00. The festival gates open at 10:00. Hanyeong arrives at 9:00."
At the mention of Hanyeong, the mood darkened.
"Let them come," Jin-hyun said lightly, though his eyes were cold. "I have a red blazer to burn."
"San."
I turned.
Chae-rin was standing by the faculty parking lot, holding her car keys.
She had changed out of her performance dress back into her uniform, but she still looked like she was walking a runway.
"Get in," she said. "One last run-through. Acoustic. No mics. No backing tracks."
We didn't go to YG this time.
We went to the roof of the main building.
The wind was picking up, tugging at my hair (which didn't move) and her skirt.
We sat on a bench overlooking the campus, the city of Seoul sprawling out in the distance.
I took out my guitar.
I strummed the opening chord of Almost Okay. E Major 7.
"Ready?" I asked.
Chae-rin nodded.
She closed her eyes.
We sang.
Without the studio magic, without the pressure of G-Dragon watching, without the audience... it was just us.
My raspy, lower register weaving in and out of her crystal-clear soprano.
When we hit the bridge—the part where I added the Ukrainian lines—Chae-rin opened her eyes.
She looked at me.
For a second, the "Ice Princess" mask was completely gone.
She looked young. And beautiful.
"Last Life..."
"We'll be fine," we sang the last line together while looking into each other's eyes.
We finished the song.
The final note drifted away into the wind.
"That was..." I started.
"Acceptable," she interrupted, turning away quickly to hide her face. "The harmonies were tight."
"Chae-rin," I said softly, resting my hand on the body of the guitar. "You're nervous."
She stiffened.
"I don't get nervous."
"Your hands are shaking."
She looked down at her hands.
They were trembling slightly.
She clenched them into fists.
"My father is coming tomorrow," she whispered. "If I lose to a group like $iren... or to that Mystery Team..."
"We won't lose," I said firmly.
I reached out and, risking my life, patted her head—just like G-Dragon had done.
She froze, staring at me with wide eyes.
"We have the song. We have the look," I gestured to my hair. "And we have 'Almost Okay'. It's honest. Your father might want perfection, but the audience wants honesty."
She stared at me for a long moment.
Then, she swatted my hand away, but there was no heat in it.
"Don't touch the hair, Commoner," she muttered. But a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Let's go. It's getting cold."
We walked down to the school gates.
The sun had set.
Just as we reached the exit, heavy floodlights washed over the pavement.
BEEP. BEEP.
A convoy of sleek, silver buses pulled up to the curb.
They were emblazoned with a logo that made my stomach tighten.
HANYEONG ARTS HIGH SCHOOL.
The doors hissed open.
Students in crimson red blazers began to pour out, carrying instrument cases, cameras, and an air of absolute superiority.
They moved with military precision, unloading equipment for the joint festival.
"Hanyeong," Chae-rin murmured.
I watched them.
And then, I froze.
Stepping off the second bus was a girl with long black hair, holding a professional-grade camera. She was laughing with a friend.
Kim Yu-jin.
She looked around the Kirin campus with curiosity.
Her gaze swept over the gate... and landed on me.
I was standing under the streetlamp. In my Kirin uniform. With Chae-rin next to me.
Her smile faltered.
She squinted.
"San?" she mouthed.
Then, behind her, another figure stepped off the bus.
Tall. Handsome.
Radiating arrogance.
The Hanyeong Student Council President.
And behind him... the unmistakable, hulking figure of the "Orange Refrigerator" PE teacher, carrying a megaphone.
"STUDENTS OF HANYEONG!" the teacher roared. "DO NOT FRATERNIZE WITH THE ENEMY! WE ARE HERE TO WIN!"
I gripped my guitar case.
"Tomorrow," I whispered. "It's showtime."