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Am I made out of sand?

Or made out of reason?

The season is treason

He screamed the last word into the microphone and that was his answer to everything. The words left his mouth, clear and sharp as submachine gun fire.

I have no adhesion

To allusions

Of assimilation

It all was made clear

When they laughed at my fear

Around him, the rest of 5N twisted and turned, their bodies jerked this way and that as if on marionette sticks pulled by the beat.

Dead. Dead. Dead. He didn’t have more articulation than that. He was nothing, just a vessel for the music, a body for the movement, a voice for the words. Everything about him had become a portal through which something larger than himself flowed. Larger than any man could be and absolutely nothing at all.

I’m not they hold dear

Just a gear in their sphere

But I am worth gold

Sacred even if sold

This cold has got old

This time I won’t fold

“Thank you, Seoul!” Jun shouted into the microphone, before bowing with the rest of 5N. It was done. The first concert after escaping Bak. They’d done it. Here, in Seoul, for the world to see.

The cheering rang in his ears as they left the stage. Jaewoong hugged Jun from behind, almost lifting him from the ground. Jun grinned and grabbed Su-jin. There were back slaps and more embraces to go around and then there was everyone else rushing up to them: Gigi, Mi Hi, the staff, the techs. Jun thanked and greeted them all and pushed through, finding Damian, Richard, and Collin beyond.

“Where’s Émeric?”

“Gone ahead to the venue,” Richard said. He gave Jun a two armed hug. “Let’s get you showered and changed.”

“Where’s Sahyuk?” Jun asked.

“He left the earring with the body,” Damian said. “We don’t know.”

Fuck. Knowing where the monster was had been vastly preferable.

“All right, shower.” Jun turned to Damian. “I can’t even remember what I’m supposed to change into.”

“We got you.” Damian turned Jun and pushed him towards the hallway.

Usually there was fan service and media after a concert, but all of that had been moved to the after party.

A quick shower and change later, Jun looked into the mirror and ran his hands down the front of the outfit Damian had poured him into. “I know you chose this one.”

Damian didn’t even try to hide his smile. Around them the rest of 5N was changing as well. There really wasn’t time or space for modesty. “I made everyone give me the after party look. They didn’t think I had the time, but I made the time.”

Jun grinned. He loved Damian’s clothes choices the best, probably because it was Damian, but also because they were just good. This time Damian had gone with post-apoc chic: lots of black and gray with deep pink-tinged purples, lots of weathered braces and metal, jackets for Geun and Yohei, sleeveless vest with no shirt for Su-jin, sleeveless vest with short-sleeve shirt and bracers for Jun. Some of the pieces were recycled from looks they’d worn on stage, like the boots and some of the belts. Anything close to their skin was fresh. Dancing on stage was sweaty work. Everything they wore that was fabric had to be washed before they could circulate with fans in it.