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Chapter 60: ✦After The Lights Go Out✦

Kang Joon remembered the moment the Daesang was placed in his hands, he understood something was wrong.

The applause was deafening. It poured down from every direction—fans screaming, camera shutters firing, staff clapping backstage where they thought no one could see them. Confetti fell in shimmering sheets, sticking to hair, clothes, the stage floor already slick with sweat and adrenaline.

STEL-R stood in a straight line, five silhouettes under white light.

Gun-woo was openly crying, shoulders shaking as he tried and failed to bow properly.

Han-bin kept lowering his head again and again, murmuring thanks until the MC gently stopped him.

Jae-hyun smiled for the cameras, calm and composed, already fitting the image of a veteran idol rather than a rookie who had debuted less than two years ago.

And Do-Hyun—

He was smiling the widest.

The cameras loved him for it. Kang-Joon could already imagine the headlines forming: STEL-R’s maknae shines brightest on the biggest stage. His expression was flawless, the kind that fans would replay frame by frame, convinced it was proof of pure happiness.

But Kang-Joon noticed the way Do-Hyun’s fingers trembled around the trophy.

It wasn’t dramatic. Not enough for anyone else to react. Just a faint, uneven vibration that caused the metal to clink softly when he adjusted his grip.

Kang-Joon felt a pressure settle in his chest.

They bowed together. Once. Twice. Three times.

When they finally left the stage, the roar of the crowd followed them down the hallway, echoing even after the doors closed. The world beyond the cameras felt smaller, tighter, filled with hurried footsteps and overlapping voices.

"Congratulations!"

"You really did it!"

"This is just the beginning!"

The beginning.

That phrase followed them into the waiting room.

Staff members rushed in with water bottles, towels, phones already ringing with new schedules. Someone mentioned overseas interviews. Someone else talked about extending promotions. A manager laughed and said they’d finally be too busy to sleep.

Do-Hyun sat down immediately, back straight, knees together, hands folded neatly on his lap.

He didn’t reach for the water.

"Hey," Gun-woo said, nudging him with his elbow. "You look like you’re about to collapse."

"I’m fine," Do-Hyun replied.

Too fast.

Gun-woo laughed it off and turned away, distracted by his phone buzzing nonstop. Han-bin was being dragged toward a stylist. Jae-hyun was already in conversation with the team leader, discussing schedules as if nothing monumental had just happened.

Kang-Joon watched Do-Hyun from across the room.

The maknae’s gaze stayed fixed on the floor.

Every time someone praised him—told him he did well, told him he was amazing, told him he was always so bright—he smiled and nodded. Each time, his shoulders stiffened, as if bracing for impact.

"Do-Hyun," a staff member said kindly, "you’re really born for the stage."

Do-Hyun laughed.

It sounded practiced.

Kang-Joon looked away first.

---

They didn’t get back to the dorm until well past midnight.

The car ride was quiet, exhaustion finally overpowering the high of the award. Gun-woo fell asleep with his head against the window. Han-bin scrolled through messages with a dazed smile. Jae-hyun closed his eyes, earbuds in, conserving energy.

Do-Hyun sat perfectly still.

Kang-Joon noticed he hadn’t checked his phone once.

When they arrived, most of the group went straight inside. Kang-Joon lingered, answering a message from their manager, when he realized one presence was missing.

The rooftop door was open.

Cold air rushed out, sharp enough to sting.

Do-Hyun stood near the railing, hands gripping the metal, shoulders tense beneath his jacket. The city stretched out below them, endless lights flickering like something alive.

"You’ll get sick," Kang-Joon said.

Do-Hyun flinched, then turned quickly.

"Oh. Hyung." He smiled. "I just needed air."

Kang-Joon stepped closer, stopping a few feet away.

"You skipped dinner."

"I wasn’t hungry."

A pause.

"I’ll eat later."

The wind tugged at Do-Hyun’s hair. He didn’t let go of the railing.

They stood there in silence longer than was comfortable.

"Today was hard," Kang-Joon said.

Do-Hyun shook his head immediately. "No. It was fun."

"It’s okay if it was hard."

"It wasn’t."

There was no anger in his voice. Just certainty.

Kang-Joon studied him carefully. The dark circles under his eyes were faint but there. His smile wavered whenever the conversation slowed.

"You don’t have to prove anything anymore," Kang-Joon said.

Do-Hyun finally looked at him.

"Prove what?"

"That you deserve to be here."

For a moment, Do-Hyun’s expression emptied completely.

Then he laughed.

"Hyung," he said lightly, "that’s a weird thing to say. Of course I deserve to be here. I worked hard."

"You did."

"So I can’t stop now."

The words were simple. The meaning wasn’t.

"When this is over," Kang-Joon said slowly, "we can take a break."

"When is ’over’?" Do-Hyun asked.

"After promotions settle down."

"And then?"

"And then..." Kang-Joon hesitated. "We’ll see."

Do-Hyun nodded, gaze drifting back to the city.

"I see."

But his voice suggested he didn’t.

"Hyung," he said after a moment, "do you ever think about what happens next?"

"Next?"

"After you get everything you wanted."

Kang-Joon didn’t answer right away.

"I don’t think it ends," he said finally. "You just keep going."

Do-Hyun smiled again.

"That sounds tiring."

He released the railing and stepped back, swaying slightly before catching himself.

"I should sleep," he said. "We have schedules."

Kang-Joon watched him walk away, footsteps light but uneven.

The rooftop felt colder after he left.

---

The next few days passed in a blur of interviews and appearances.

STEL-R’s name was everywhere. Their schedules doubled. Their sleep vanished.

Do-Hyun never complained.

He arrived early to practice. Stayed late. Memorized changes without question. When he made a mistake, he bowed and apologized before anyone could comment.

It wasn’t alarming.

It was admirable.

That was the problem.

Kang-Joon noticed small things.

Do-Hyun spacing out during meals, chopsticks hovering untouched.

Do-Hyun practicing alone even after collapsing onto the floor in exhaustion.

Do-Hyun laughing when fans said, You’re always so happy.

One afternoon, during practice, Do-Hyun missed a step.

It was minor. Barely noticeable.

He froze.

"Sorry," he said immediately, bowing so deeply his forehead nearly touched the floor.

The room went quiet.

Jae-hyun frowned. "It’s fine. We’ll run it again."

Do-Hyun nodded too quickly.

When they resumed, his movements were stiff, cautious, as if afraid to exist too loudly.

Kang-Joon’s chest tightened.

This wasn’t how it usually went.

Something was accelerating.

---

That night, Kang-Joon dreamed of a stage collapsing beneath bright lights.

No matter how many times he reached out, someone slipped through his hands.

When he woke up, his phone was buzzing.

A message from the manager.

[Keep an eye on Do-Hyun. He hasn’t been sleeping much.]

Kang-Joon sat up slowly.