Page 55 of Idol Lives
Tae Hyun chuckled as he stepped onto the lift with his playfully carousing dancers. They’d all talked about the protestors before their afternoon rehearsal. Tae Hyun also addressed the tabloid rumors, assuring his crew that they were totally false.
“Of course they are,” Daniel joked. “I mean, Ren’s cute and all. But he’s no Jason fucking Park.”
The lift jerked as it rose, forcing Tae Hyun to steady himself on Malik’s shoulder. Once on the darkened stage, the dancerstook their positions while Tae Hyun walked forward to his mark. He settled into the first pose, waiting until he heard the countdown cue on his monitor.
Light exploded around Tae Hyun as the bassline from his opening song pounded in his chest. His lips curled into a confident smirk as he slinked forward in time to the music, the silvery sequins on his narrow vest shimmering like a thousand tiny stars. As the music enveloped him, he surrendered to the rhythm, the lyrics pouring out in a torrent of emotions. There was no protest. There was no trouble with Ren. There was no fight with Jason. There was only the music.
During the brief interlude ofWorth It, a short, introspective spoken word track played over a darkened stage, Tae Hyun ducked behind a set piece for his first costume change. He emerged moments later, clad in tight, white leather pants and a bright white, sleeveless mesh top, a vision of angelic purity. He hit the stage just as the opening bars ofKaleidoscope, a vibrant pop anthem, pulsed through the arena. His adrenaline surged, fueled by the crowd’s deafening roar. A sea of glowing light sticks waved in a hypnotic rhythm, their vibrant colors blurring into a mesmerizing kaleidoscope, mirroring the song’s title. He commanded the stage, his body an instrument of the music, each move a carefully choreographed expression of raw energy and emotion.
Tae Hyun hit the chorus, his voice soaring above the pounding beat, when it happened. A streak of crimson arced through the air, a blur of motion that seemed to defy gravity. He had a split second of confusion before a cold shock as the soft projectile exploded against his chest, a wet splattering of viscous liquid soaking into his pristine white costume.
Time slowed to an agonizing crawl as the warm paint spreadacross his skin. The music throbbed in his ear monitors, a relentless reminder that the show must go on. But for a fleeting moment, he was frozen, trapped in the rainbow glow of the stage lights, a lone figure stained red with a mark of hatred.
Then, instinct took over. A dancer’s instinct, a performer’s survival mechanism. He turned the shock into a gasp, the stain into a deliberate smear. He incorporated the unexpected into the choreography, turning his body into a canvas as he wiped the crimson paint across himself in an act of transformation. The crowd roared in response, their cheers echoing his own defiant heartbeat.
He wouldn’t let them win. Not tonight. Not ever.
Yun Seo stood at the ready, flanked by two stylists and a makeup artist, as Tae Hyun ducked behind another set piece on stage for his next outfit change. She instinctively reached out to wipe the paint from his face.
“Leave it,” Tae Hyun snapped, shrugging out of the ruined leather pants. His voice was sharp and edgy from the adrenaline still coursing through his system. “It’s not coming off without a shower anyway.”
Yun Seo nodded, frowning as she pulled the cloth away. “What was that?”
“Hell if I know,” Tae Hyun replied, already reaching for the pieces of his next outfit–a black fitted T-shirt with a bold graphic design, black skinny jeans with a hint of distressing at the knees, and his statement piece, a deep red leather jacket with silver hardware and zippers running diagonally across the chest. The color ironically mirrored that red stains on his skin. “Ask Seong Min about it.” He shoved his feet into the shiny black combat boots the stylist held out. The lightingshifted, meaning he was about to miss his cue. “Hurry up,” he snapped as the stylist struggled to secure his boots.
With a final tug, his boots were secured, and Tae Hyun strode back onto the stage just as the opening chords ofUncagedechoed through the arena. The crowd’s energy surged to match the fierce pop-rock anthem’s driving rhythm, their cheers a powerful wave that momentarily wiped away any lingering fatigue. He poured himself into the song, his movements sharp and deliberate, each gesture a defiant challenge to those who sought to silence him.
The rest of the show was a blur of costume changes, electrifying dance routines, and the unwavering adoration of the crowd. The cheers from the audience reverberated throughout the arena as the stage lights dimmed after his final encore. The darkness offered a comforting refuge from the vibrant energy that had pulsed through him moments before. Tae Hyun leaned on Malik for support as the lift descended, exhaustion settling over him like a heavy blanket. The adrenaline rush was gone, replaced by a dull ache in his muscles and a lingering sense of unease.
Jason and Seong Min anxiously waited in the staging area. Well, not exactly. Jason anxiously waited, his concern etched into every line of his face, his eyes darting over Tae Hyun, searching for signs of injury. Seong Min, on the other hand, stood stiffly at attention, his lips pressed into a thin line of barely concealed irritation.
“Tae Hyun!” Jason exclaimed, rushing towards him as the lift touched down. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Tae Hyun managed a weak smile. “I’m fine, hyung. It’s just paint.” But the strain in his voice betrayed the night’s toll on him. He glanced at Seong Min. “What happened?”
“We’re still working that out, sir,” Seong Min explained. “Our team has been reviewing the footage of the incident. But we caught the person who did it. The venue security team has him in custody while we wait for the Taipei authorities to collect him.”
Jason’s eyes hardened, his jaw clenching. Tae Hyun could see the anger building beneath the surface, a familiar storm brewing. “I want to see him,” he growled, low and dangerous.
Seong Woo firmly shook his head. “Absolutely not, sir. For one, your status as a foreign national would only complicate the situation. Also, I don’t believe you speak Mandarin.”
Tae Hyun’s jaw nearly dropped open. It was the first time he’d ever witnessed Seong Min outright refuse one of Jason’s requests. It had to be a serious matter. But his unwavering authority only seemed to further fuel Jason’s anger.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Jason spat, sharp and vicious. “That man tried to–”
“Hyung–” Tae Hyun interrupted, gently placing a hand on Jason’s arm and feeling the rigid tension in his muscles. “Not now. Please. I need your help getting all this paint off.” He sighed. “If it’ll even come off.”
Jason hesitated, then visibly forced himself to relax. “Yeah, of course.” He turned back to Seong Min, his concern hardly masking the barely suppressed fury still boiling just below it. “Come find us the moment you figure out what happened.”
Seong Min stiffly nodded. “Of course, sir.”
Tae Hyun looked at Jason, a silent plea in his eyes as he offered his hand. “Can we go now?”
Jason nodded, his jaw still clenched as he struggled to maintain his outward calm, and took Tae Hyun’s hand. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Once the dressing room door clicked shut behind them, it became a welcome barrier against the protestors, malicious fans, and any other potential troubles awaiting them on the other side. Jason dimmed the lights, casting the space in a warm, intimate glow. As if mirroring the change in atmosphere, his demeanor instantly softened, the hard lines of anger dissolving into a gentle concern that tugged at Tae Hyun’s heart. The tightness in Jason’s shoulders eased, replaced by a familiar tenderness. His eyes, usually sharp and alert, held a warmth that made Tae Hyun’s breath catch in his throat. It was a look he knew well–the one that said,I’m here for you, no matter what. At that moment, all of Tae Hyun’s doubts and anxieties seemed to vanish, replaced by a quiet gratitude for this man who loved him so fiercely.
“Tae Hyun,” Jason purred, softly cupping his face in his hands. “Are you sure you’re okay? I mean, really okay?”
