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The venue hummed with anticipation, the air thick with the mingling scents of sweat, and perfume, and the faint metallic tang of stage lights heating up. Gyuvin stood pressed against the barricade, hands gripping the cool metal bar in front of him as he bounced lightly on the balls of his feet. Around them, the crowd buzzed—some chatting excitedly, others scrolling through their phones, waiting for the show to start.
“Man, I still can’t believe we’re this close,” Gunwook muttered, leaning over to nudge Gyuvin’s arm. “Like, look at this.” He gestured toward the stage, where the instruments were already set up—the sleek black guitars resting on their stands, the towering drum kit glinting under the dimmed spotlights. “We’re practically breathing the same air as them.”
Gyuvin grinned, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. “Front row VIP, baby. It doesn’t get better than this.”
Hanbin, standing on Gyuvin’s other side, let out an impressed whistle as he adjusted his wristband. “I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t think you’d actually pull this off.”
“Me neither,” Gunwook added. “When you told us you got the tickets, I thought you were scamming us.”
Gyuvin rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his excitement. “Hey, have a little faith in me. I told you it was worth refreshing the page a thousand times.”
Gunwook laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, you were right. But if we get trampled the moment they come out, I’m blaming you.”
Gyuvin just grinned wider, eyes fixed on the stage. He could already picture it—Ricky stepping out under the flashing lights, guitar slung low, that signature cocky smirk on his lips. Just the thought made his pulse quicken. Seeing Ricky in interviews, in music videos, even in live-streamed performances was one thing, but this? Being so close that he could see every detail in real-time? Unreal.
Gunwook leaned in, voice dropping conspiratorially. “Hey, what if they actually perform I Kissed a Boy tonight?”
Gyuvin’s eyes widened. Just the mention of the song sent a ripple of excitement through him. “No way,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really think they’d do it?”
Hanbin shrugged, but his grin was knowing. “They’ve been teasing it for weeks. Wouldn’t be surprised if they drop it as a surprise tonight.”
The thought made Gyuvin’s head spin. I Kissed a Boy—a song that had already set the internet on fire with just its teaser. A bold, playful, and outright defiant anthem about a guy kissing another guy despite having a girlfriend, all wrapped up in the band’s signature pop-rock sound. It was cheeky, controversial, and undeniably catchy. Gyuvin could already hear the beat pounding in his head.
“It’s kind of insane, right?” Gunwook said. “Like, a rock band actually putting out a song like that? No one else is doing it.”
Gyuvin nodded fervently. “Yeah, it’s—different. Not just some gimmick, but like… they’re actually making a statement.”
Hanbin smirked. “You mean Ricky’s making a statement.”
Gyuvin scoffed but couldn’t deny it. Ricky was fearless—always pushing boundaries, always doing whatever the hell he wanted, and somehow making it look effortless. “I mean, the guy has a girlfriend,” Gyuvin pointed out. “And now he’s out here singing about kissing a guy? He really doesn’t care what people think.”
Gunwook nudged him. “Bet if they perform it, the crowd’s gonna lose their minds.”
“I’m gonna lose my mind,” Gyuvin muttered, gripping the barricade tighter.
The venue lights flickered, teasing the crowd, and Gyuvin felt the energy around them shift, anticipation thickening in the air. He could hear excited whispers, and feel the tension rising with every second.
“If they really play it tonight,” Hanbin said, “you better hold it together.”
Gyuvin swallowed hard, staring at the stage as his heart pounded in his chest. “No promises.”
🎸
Backstage, Ricky sat on the worn leather couch, his guitar resting across his lap as he absently strummed a few chords. The green room buzzed with the usual pre-show energy—Taerae was stretching his fingers, Hao was tuning his bass, and Matthew tapped a rhythm against his drumsticks on the table.
“You ready for tonight?” Taerae asked, glancing over as he adjusted the strap on his guitar.
Ricky smirked, running a hand through his platinum blonde hair. “Born ready.”
Matthew snorted. “Yeah, yeah. You say that every time, and then you disappear for like ten minutes to have a panic smoke.”
Ricky shot him a look but didn’t argue. Instead, his eyes drifted to the setlist taped to the wall. Right at the bottom, circled in bright red marker, was their brand-new single: I Kissed a Boy.
Hao followed his gaze and grinned. “Still can’t believe we’re actually doing it tonight.”
Taerae leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “You sure you’re cool with it? The label’s hyping it up as a ‘shock factor’ thing, but we all know it’s not just that.” His voice was careful, probing.
Ricky plucked a string, letting the sound ring out before answering. “Yeah,” he said simply, eyes still on the setlist. “I like the song.”
Matthew raised an eyebrow. “You like the song, huh?”
A beat passed. Ricky looked up, eyes sharp but tired. “Yeah. I do.”
There was a moment of silence before Hao spoke up, voice softer. “You ever gonna talk about it?”
Ricky sighed, leaning his head back against the couch. “Talk about what?”
“Her,” Taerae said bluntly. “You’ve been weird ever since the Europe tour ended. You barely mention her anymore.”
Ricky closed his eyes for a second. His girlfriend—an actress. The perfect, picture-ready partner the world expected him to have. Beautiful, charming, supportive on the surface. But behind closed doors? She was controlling, possessive, and lately, every conversation felt like a trap. It was exhausting, and the worst part? He didn’t even care as much as he used to.
He shrugged, playing it cool. “It’s whatever.”
“Come on,” Matthew said, drumming his sticks against his thigh. “You haven’t been yourself, man. And now you’re singing about kissing a guy. You think she’s gonna take that well?”
Ricky let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Honestly? I don’t give a fuck what she thinks.” He paused, finger tracing the edge of his guitar. “If I did, I wouldn’t have agreed to this song in the first place.”
Taerae shared a knowing glance with Hao. “So… what? You’re actually into the idea?”
Ricky smirked, but there was something different in his eyes. “Maybe,” he said, testing the word on his tongue. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
Hao nudged him with his foot. “Ricky, it’s a little bit of a big deal. I mean the three of us are into guys and we would support you if you are into them as well, but this…singing this song, essentially coming out WHILE you have a girlfriend, this is a very big deal. There’s still time to change the setlist so that we don’t do anything that causes a big topic.”
Ricky shrugged again, but his thoughts were already wandering. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, but lately, he’d been noticing things—how his gaze lingered on certain guys longer than it used to, how something stirred in him that he couldn’t quite put into words. The song wasn’t just for shock value to him anymore; it was starting to feel… personal.
“Look,” he said, standing up and stretching. “All I know is that I’m done pretending everything’s fine with her. And if people lose their minds over a song? Let them.”
Matthew grinned. “They already did when we released the song a few days ago. What else could you do that is shocking? Like, what? You gonna actually kiss a dude?”
Ricky smirked, adjusting his mic pack. “Hmm, that’s not a bad idea.”
“Oh dear.”
🎸
The sudden dimming of the venue lights sent a wave of electric anticipation through the crowd. Gyuvin’s breath hitched as the once-muted chatter around him erupted into an excited roar. The stage, shrouded in darkness, pulsed with a low hum of amplifiers coming to life. A single neon light traced the outline of the band’s logo—a jagged, holographic emblem that shimmered in hues of black, white, and iridescent purple.
“Oh my god, it’s starting!” Gunwook shouted over the noise, gripping Gyuvin’s arm and shaking him excitedly.
Gyuvin could barely nod, his heart pounding in his chest. The moment felt surreal—he was really here, in the front row VIP section, standing so close to the stage that he could see the glint of the microphones and the scuff marks on the pedalboards. Hanbin, standing on his other side, nudged him with an eager grin. “This is insane. We’re gonna see them up close. Ricky, dude.”
Before Gyuvin could respond, a low, distorted guitar riff echoed through the speakers, reverberating through his bones. The neon lights around the stage pulsed in sync with the rhythm, and suddenly, the drumbeat kicked in—steady, heavy, demanding attention. The stage remained dark, teasing the audience, until an explosion of light burst across the venue.
There they were.
Ricky stood center stage, his sleek black leather jacket catching the light, a white graphic tee underneath barely visible as he gripped his guitar. His platinum blonde hair was styled effortlessly messy, and with the way he owned the stage, he looked every bit the rockstar Gyuvin had imagined in his head a million times before. Hao, Taerae, and Matthew followed closely behind, each settling into their positions—Hao’s fingers plucking at his bass, Taerae rolling his shoulders before launching into a rhythm, and Matthew twirling a drumstick between his fingers before bringing it down with force.
Gyuvin felt his breath catch. Ricky’s presence was overwhelming, radiating a cool confidence that sent the crowd into a frenzy. He stepped forward, leaning into the mic with a smirk.
“Are you ready for tonight?” Ricky’s voice boomed through the speakers, and the crowd screamed in response. Gyuvin joined in, the sound tearing from his throat without hesitation.
The band launched into their first song, a familiar favorite that had everyone jumping in sync with the pounding drums. Gyuvin could barely believe this was happening—he could see the sweat on Ricky’s neck, the way his fingers expertly moved across the guitar strings, the slight smirk tugging at his lips whenever the crowd sang back the lyrics perfectly.
Hanbin leaned in, shouting over the noise. “I think I’m in love.”
Obviously that wasn’t about Ricky. If it was, then Gyuvin would have smacked Hanbin on the head already. No, it was about Zhang Hao, the band’s bassist.
Much like Gyuvin’s admiration for Ricky, Hanbin also had this unending love for the other Chinese member. Hanbin screamed at the top of his lungs, something about how he would ‘give literally anything for Hao to look at him for at least 5 seconds straight.'
Gyuvin didn’t answer though, he was too busy watching Ricky move across the stage, his eyes scanning the crowd while performing.
Who knows what's going on in his head?
🎸
The backstage area was a stark contrast to the chaos of the stage. Despite being on break, the noise of the crowd could still be heard. Ricky stood alone in front of a mirror, running his hands through his hair as he tried to calm his racing heart. He wasn’t nervous—he never was when it came to performing. But tonight felt different. The adrenaline from the crowd, the anticipation for the new song, and the weight of his own plan were all swirling inside him, making him buzz with an energy that felt almost electric.
He took a deep breath, staring at his reflection for a moment. He could hear the muffled voices of his bandmates and the crew just outside the door. Taerae was probably talking about the set list, Matthew was likely messing with his drumsticks, and Hao… Hao was probably already lost in his own thoughts. But Ricky’s mind was elsewhere.
He was already planning what was to come. When the song dropped, he would make sure the crowd wouldn’t just be stunned by the lyrics; he was going to leave them breathless. He had been thinking about it for a while—how he could make this performance legendary. And he had the perfect idea.
Earlier, when he’d walked by the front row VIP section, he’d caught sight of a few fanboys that had made his pulse quicken for a split second. One of them had been standing so close to the stage, his eyes wide with excitement, his hand almost reaching out like he wanted to be part of it. Ricky had seen that before—fans eager to get closer, to become part of the magic. They always wanted a chance to interact with the band, to be part of something bigger than just the crowd. And that’s where his idea formed.
He chuckled softly to himself. This would be so easy. He’d pick a fanboy, someone young and eager, someone whose eyes are full of adoration, practically glowing with excitement. He would make his move then—nearing the last chorus of the song, when the energy was at its peak. He’d rile up the crowd first, get them chanting. And when the moment was right, he’d call for a male fan, find one in the front row, and invite him up.
The thrill of it was intoxicating. He could already picture the moment: Ricky, standing tall on stage, grabbing the mic with a smirk, his eyes scanning the crowd. He’d say something along the lines of, “I’m looking for someone to join me up here. A guy. Who’s brave enough to come up on stage?”
The moment the fan joined him on stage, Ricky would surprise him—hell, surprise everyone—by planting a bold kiss right on his lips. It was the kind of move that would send shockwaves through the crowd, get everyone talking about the band for days, maybe even weeks. It would go viral in a heartbeat.
Ricky nodded to himself, feeling a rush of excitement. This was exactly the kind of stunt he needed. The kind of thing that would break the internet and push the band’s image to a whole new level. He wasn’t scared; he was ready to own it. The song was already edgy enough, but adding this… would make the moment unforgettable.
He stepped away from the mirror, grabbing his jacket from the chair. He could already hear the crew talking about the setlist. He knew the band was hyped, but none of them knew what he was about to do. They’d be shocked when it happened, just like the rest of the audience.
Ricky headed out toward the side door, his mind already working on his next move. He went to his manager, casually mentioning the idea. “Hey,” he said with a grin. “How would you feel about me grabbing a fan from the crowd for this next one? I’m thinking a male fan, someone who’s willing to join me on stage for a… special performance .”
The manager and crew members raised an eyebrow. Almost as if they already had an idea of what he was planning to do. “You sure? This is going to get people talking.”
Ricky nodded, his grin widening. “That’s the point.”
They chuckled. “Alright, if you’re sure… we can work it out. Let’s make it happen.”
Ricky gave a satisfied nod, feeling a rush of confidence flood his veins. The stage was calling, and now, everything was set. He was ready to go back out there and give them a show no one would ever forget.
🎸
The stage lights suddenly dropped, and a thick hush fell over the venue. For a moment, everything went still. The crowd’s excited murmurs dimmed to a quiet anticipation. Ricky stood at the edge of the stage, his fingers tight around the mic stand, his eyes scanning the sea of faces. His heartbeat thudded in his chest. He was ready. This was the moment.
The atmosphere buzzed with the crowd’s energy as the familiar hum of the instruments filled the air. The band began to play, the first chord of the song echoing through the venue, sending ripples through the audience.
Then, the drums kicked in, and Taerae’s guitar riffs struck a sharp chord, shaking the room. Ricky’s lips curled into a smirk. The lights flickered in time with the beat, and he stepped forward, his eyes gleaming as he lifted the mic to his lips.
With a deep breath, he sang, his voice cutting through the air. “This was never the way I planned, not my intention.”
The crowd erupted into cheers at the first sound of Ricky’s voice. Their energy surged forward, and Ricky’s grin widened. The music had a life of its own now, the rhythm pounding in the space between the band and the fans.
“I got so brave, drink in hand. Lost my discretion,” Ricky continued, his voice smooth but with a trace of something mischievous.
The audience screamed in approval, pumping their fists in time with the beat. But Ricky’s gaze didn’t stray far from the front row, where he’d seen the fanboys earlier. His plan was already forming in his mind, the excitement brewing. The music continued, loud and bright, and Ricky’s fingers tightened on the mic stand.
Gyuvin’s throat was already sore, but he didn’t care. He was screaming his heart out, jumping in place as the band launched into their new song. “RICKY!!” he shouted again, his voice raw but full of energy. His hands shot up, waving wildly, trying to catch even a second of Ricky’s attention.
Gunwook laughed beside him, nudging him in the ribs. “Dude, if you yell any louder, they’ll think you’re part of the sound system.”
Gyuvin barely heard him over the pounding bass and his own exhilaration. Ricky stood at the edge of the stage, his expression sharp and electrifying under the flashing lights. He was dripping in cool confidence, his blonde hair slicked back and his leather jacket hanging perfectly off his shoulders. Gyuvin swore he could feel his knees give out just from looking at him.
“RICKY!!” Gyuvin screamed again, jumping up and down like a man possessed. He was beyond caring about looking cool. He was front row VIP at The Ricky’s concert, and he wasn’t going to waste it.
“It’s not what I’m used to. Just wanna try you on,” Ricky’s voice cut through the air, smooth but tinged with something almost playful. His gaze flickered over the crowd, landing briefly on his bandmates—Taerae nodding with approval, Matthew pounding out the beat with practiced precision, Hao standing in his element, bass in hand. Ricky’s eyes swept past them, over the front row. His eyes lingered on a few fans, noting the way they shouted his name, their eyes wide with admiration. One particular pair of eyes caught his attention.
That’s when it happened.
There you are , Ricky thought, seeing the young fan in the front row again, his face practically glowing with excitement.
For a split second, Gyuvin felt like his soul left his body. Ricky’s intense gaze locked onto him, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as if he’d just found something interesting. Gyuvin froze, his breath hitching.
“HOLY—” Hanbin grabbed Gyuvin’s arm in a vice grip. “He’s looking at you.”
Gyuvin’s mind short-circuited. Ricky was looking at him. Out of thousands of screaming fans, him.
He barely registered the fact that Gunwook was shaking him violently. “Bro, he’s actually staring at you! Say something! Do something!”
But Gyuvin couldn’t do anything except stare back, wide-eyed, his mouth slightly agape. Ricky tilted his head slightly, giving him a look that felt like it could melt steel. It was only a few seconds—probably less—but it stretched into eternity in Gyuvin’s mind. Then, Ricky winked.
“OH MY GOD,” Gyuvin screamed, turning to his friends and grabbing onto them for dear life. “HE WINKED AT ME. DID YOU SEE THAT?!”
Gunwook and Hanbin were equally hysterical. “HE WINKED AT YOU!” they yelled in unison, shaking him like their lives depended on it.
Meanwhile, on stage, Ricky casually turned away, continuing with the performance like nothing had happened. But Gyuvin could feel it in his bones—something had.
What Gyuvin didn’t know was that Ricky had just made up his mind. He had found the perfect male fan for the moment later in the performance.
🎸
The song was nearing its climax, the crowd singing along to every word as the energy inside the venue reached a fever pitch. Taerae stepped forward, fingers gliding effortlessly over his guitar, the solo ringing out through the air like a pulse. The neon lights flickered in sync with the beat, bathing the stage in streaks of black, white, and holographic flashes. The audience was lost in the music, cheering wildly as the band poured their souls into the performance.
And then Ricky stepped away from the mic, walking toward the edge of the stage with a grin that could only mean trouble. He glanced over his shoulder at his bandmates, his voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere like a blade.
“Alright, alright,” Ricky drawled, running a hand through his hair. The way he spoke sent the crowd into a frenzy. “I think it’s time we make things a little more… interesting.”
The venue practically shook with excitement. Fans screamed, reaching toward him with eager hands, hoping—praying—that they’d be noticed.
On stage, Hao, Matthew, and Taerae exchanged puzzled glances but kept playing, the momentum too strong to stop now.
Ricky paced the stage, hyping up the crowd. “I need a fan to help me out here,” he continued, his voice dripping with mischief. “A male fan, to be exact.”
A chorus of surprised screams erupted from the crowd. Some guys in the audience started jumping and waving their arms, calling Ricky’s name. But Gyuvin? Gyuvin was frozen in place, his mind blank, his mouth slightly open in shock.
Ricky’s eyes scanned the crowd—looking for the male fan he had winked at earlier.
“You,” Ricky pointed directly at him, his smirk widening. “What about you?”
Gyuvin’s entire body locked up. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Was Ricky talking to him? No. This couldn’t be happening. His ears were ringing, and for a second, he was convinced he was hallucinating.
“BRO, GO!” Gunwook shouted, shaking him aggressively.
Hanbin, wide-eyed and grinning ear to ear, grabbed Gyuvin’s shoulders. “GYUVIN, MOVE! HE’S CALLING YOU!”
Gyuvin blinked, still too stunned to react.
The security near the barricade gestured for him to come forward, parting the barrier. Gyuvin felt his feet dragging against the ground, his body completely disconnected from his brain. It was only thanks to Hanbin and Gunwook physically shoving him forward that he stumbled past the barricade, tripping slightly before catching himself.
The crowd screamed even louder as Ricky extended a hand toward him, his smirk unwavering. “Come on up here.”
Gyuvin’s heart pounded so hard he thought it might explode. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. But Ricky’s hand was right there, waiting.
With legs that felt like jelly, Gyuvin reached out—and the second their hands touched, the entire venue erupted.
Gyuvin stood on the stage, heart hammering in his chest as Ricky’s arm looped around his arms like it belonged there. The crowd was a blur of screams and flashing lights, but all Gyuvin could focus on was the warmth of Ricky’s touch and the smooth rasp of his voice in the mic.
Ricky tilted his head, eyes dark and glinting under the stage lights. He held the mic up to Gyuvin’s lips, his smirk slow and teasing. “What’s your name, cutie?”
Gyuvin nearly choked. “Uh… G-Gyuvin,” he stammered, feeling his entire face heat up.
Ricky hummed, like he was tasting the name on his tongue. “Gyuvin,” he repeated, drawing it out lazily, his fingers tracing small circles on Gyuvin’s shoulder. “Cute.”
Gyuvin felt like he was going to melt.
Ricky leaned in just a little closer, his voice smooth like velvet. “So, Gyuvin,” he purred, “how long have you been into me—I mean, into our band?”
Gyuvin’s breath hitched. “I—uh, since debut,” he managed, feeling like his knees would give out any second.
Ricky chuckled lowly, his lips curling in amusement. “That long, huh?” He let his fingers trail down Gyuvin’s arm before pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. “You must be a die-hard fan then. You know this song well?”
Gyuvin nodded frantically. “Y-yeah. I know all the words.”
Ricky smirked, eyes flickering with something dangerous, something hungry. He leaned in again, his lips brushing the shell of Gyuvin’s ear, his voice nothing more than a sinful whisper.
“You know what’s coming, don’t you?” Ricky murmured, his breath warm against Gyuvin’s skin. “You can back out now if you’re scared.”
Gyuvin swallowed hard, his entire body buzzing. He didn’t even need to think. There was no way anyone in their right mind would pass this opportunity up. Shaking his head, he shyly whispered, “I… I don’t want to.”
Ricky pulled back just enough to meet Gyuvin’s wide eyes, a wicked smile spreading across his lips. “Good boy,” he said, and Gyuvin felt his soul leave his body.
Turning back to the crowd, Ricky raised his mic, the teasing edge never leaving his voice.
“Let’s finish this song with a bang, yeah?”
The crowd erupted, but Gyuvin could barely hear them over the pounding of his heart. Whatever was about to happen, he knew he was completely at Ricky’s mercy.
The electric strum of Taerae’s guitar filled the venue, the bass reverberating through Gyuvin’s chest as the song reached its climax. The crowd was a sea of hands and flashing lights, their voices merging into a euphoric roar. Gyuvin stood frozen under the hot stage lights, barely able to process what was happening.
Ricky’s voice dripped with seduction as he sang the final chorus, eyes locked onto Gyuvin like he was the only person in the room.
“I kissed a boy just to try it…”
The crowd screamed, feeding off the energy radiating from the stage. Gyuvin’s breath caught in his throat as Ricky took a step closer, his hand sliding effortlessly around Gyuvin’s waist.
“I hope my girlfriend don’t mind it…”
Gyuvin’s mind was blank, his heart hammering in anticipation as Ricky’s fingers curled around his hip, pulling him in. Every movement was slow, deliberate—like Ricky was savoring the moment.
“It felt so wrong, it felt so right…”
And then it happened.
Without hesitation, Ricky closed the distance between them, his lips pressing firmly against Gyuvin’s. The crowd exploded in an ear-splitting cheer, the entire venue vibrating with sheer chaos. Gyuvin’s eyes widened in shock, but before he could even react, Ricky deepened the kiss—his grip firm, commanding, like he had done this a thousand times before.
Gunwook and Hanbin’s screams pierced through the noise, but Gyuvin barely registered them. The world blurred into the heat of Ricky’s lips, the taste of sweat and mint, and the overwhelming realization that this was actually happening.
As Ricky kissed Gyuvin, he found himself caught off guard by how good it felt—maybe it was the freedom of doing whatever he wanted, or the thrill of kissing a stranger, or maybe Gyuvin’s lips felt undeniably good to kiss. Maybe it was a mix of all three.
For a moment, Ricky reveled in the sensation, a mix of curiosity, desire, and the raw excitement of the act itself.
“Don’t mean I’m in love tonight…”
Ricky pulled away just enough to look at Gyuvin, his lips curving into a devilish smirk, eyes glinting with amusement. Gyuvin could hardly breathe, his whole body buzzing with adrenaline, but Ricky didn’t give him a second to recover.
“I kissed a boy and I liked it…”
The words left Ricky’s mouth, his voice rich and dripping with satisfaction, and then—just like that—the music ended with a final, powerful beat.
“I liked it,” Ricky murmured, the mic amplifying his sultry tone before he tossed it aside, stepping back with one last lingering glance at Gyuvin.
“Thank you and good night!”
The stage lights cut out, plunging the room into darkness for a split second before the screams intensified, and Gyuvin stood there, stunned, hands still trembling from where Ricky had touched him.
Gunwook and Hanbin were losing their minds in the crowd, but Gyuvin? Gyuvin could barely comprehend that he’d just been kissed by Ricky.
🎸
The second Gyuvin stumbled back behind the barricade, Hanbin and Gunwook were on him like hawks. Hanbin grabbed his shoulders, shaking him so hard that Gyuvin swore his brain rattled inside his skull. “Gyuvin, what the hell just happened?!” he yelled, his voice a mixture of shock and excitement.
Gunwook, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, was practically bouncing on his feet. “Dude, Ricky kissed you! Ricky—the lead guitarist, the coolest guy on the planet—kissed you!” He grabbed Gyuvin by the collar, shaking him slightly. “Do you realize what just happened? What this means?!”
Gyuvin’s lips were still tingling, his brain trying to play catch-up with reality. He touched his face, eyes darting around like he was waiting for someone to wake him up from this insane fever dream. “I—I didn’t know,” he stammered, still dazed. “It all happened so fast. One second he was looking at me, and the next…” He trailed off, recalling the way Ricky’s lips had pressed against his, the heat of the stage lights making it feel even more unreal.
Hanbin groaned dramatically, shaking Gyuvin harder. “And then you just stood there! You froze like a statue!”
“I did not!” Gyuvin snapped back, but his voice cracked, making Gunwook laugh.
Gunwook crossed his arms, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. “You were so into it! Don’t even try to deny it.”
Gyuvin’s face heated up, and he groaned, covering it with both hands. “Oh my god. Oh my god. What am I supposed to do now? Do I like… tweet about this? Or do I pretend it never happened?”
Hanbin grinned wickedly. “Oh, it happened. And there’s no way you can pretend otherwise.”
Gunwook, who had been busy scrolling through his phone, suddenly gasped. “Uh… guys?” His eyes widened, and he shoved his phone between them. “This thing’s already viral.”
“What?!” Gyuvin snatched the phone, and sure enough, his worst fears were confirmed.
The Twitter feed was flooded with clips and pictures—all different angles of the captured moment. The kiss was already a trending topic with captions like:
“Ricky’s surprise kiss—who is this lucky fan???”
“WE JUST WITNESSED HISTORY, PEOPLE.”
“I NEED TO BE HIM. RIGHT. NOW.”
“Ricky out here living his best life and I’m crying.”
Gyuvin’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god. This isn’t happening.” He scrolled through the endless flood of comments, his face growing redder with each one.
Hanbin peeked over his shoulder, grinning. “Bro, you’re famous now.”
Gunwook smirked. “How does it feel to be the guy everyone wants to be tonight?”
Gyuvin groaned, tugging at his hair. “It feels terrifying. What if Ricky’s girlfriend sees this? What if I get attacked online?!”
Hanbin patted his back. “You’ll be fine. Just ride the wave, my dude. This is your moment.”
Gyuvin sighed deeply, staring at the endless stream of tweets and photos. It was insane, surreal, and completely out of his control. But deep down, under all the anxiety and panic… he couldn’t deny it. He loved it.
🎸
Backstage, the noise of the concert still echoed in his head, the vibrations of the crowd’s energy lingering in the air. Ricky pulled his shirt over his head, sweat dripping down his back as he shrugged out of his leather jacket. The adrenaline rush from the performance hadn’t quite worn off, and his body still buzzed from the high of the show. He was riding that wave when the door to the backstage area swung open, and their manager popped his head inside, a wide grin on his face.
“You’re trending, Ricky. Everywhere.” The manager’s voice was upbeat, almost in disbelief. “That kiss? It’s all over social media. People are losing their minds.”
Ricky smirked, rolling his shoulders as he grabbed a towel. “I told you it would work.” He wiped the sweat from his face, still feeling the buzz of the crowd’s wild energy. He couldn’t deny that there was something addictive about it—this sense of power, the unpredictability of what just happened.
Taerae, who had been lounging on a nearby couch, shot Ricky a look. “Dude, you seriously kissed him. A fan.” His tone was full of amusement, but Ricky could tell there was an edge of disbelief beneath it.
Matthew chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief as he wiped his hands on his jeans. “Honestly, that was insane. I never thought you’d actually do it.”
Hao, who had been silently sipping water in the corner, finally spoke up, his voice deadpan. “I can’t believe you actually picked him. I thought you were just messing with the crowd.”
Ricky leaned back against the wall, a smug grin forming on his lips. “Did you really think I was just playing around? When I see an opportunity, I take it.” He shrugged, clearly unfazed by his bandmates’ shock. “Plus, he was a good choice. The kid didn’t even flinch. He just took it.”
Before anyone could respond, Ricky’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced down at the caller ID. His girlfriend. A heavy sigh escaped him. It was almost predictable.
With a glance at his bandmates, who were still watching him with varying degrees of amusement and surprise, Ricky picked up the phone. He raised an eyebrow as he swiped to answer, his voice smooth as silk. “Hello?”
“Ricky,” her voice came through, sharp with irritation. “What the hell was that? What were you thinking, kissing some random fan on stage? Don’t you have anything to say?”
Ricky’s smile faltered for just a moment, a sense of finality washing over him. He leaned back, feeling a strange sense of liberation creeping up on him. “Actually, I do,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically calm. He paused for a beat, letting the tension build. “We’re over.”
There was a stunned silence on the other end. Ricky’s heart didn’t race, didn’t skip a beat. He wasn’t nervous or anxious. He was just done. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders.
And then, without giving her a chance to respond, he dropped the call.
Ricky stared at the screen for a long moment, his finger hovering over the device. The finality of it didn’t feel like a loss. It felt like freedom. A strange, rebellious thrill ran through him.
His bandmates were silent, all of them watching him, waiting for him to explain. But Ricky just leaned back against the wall again, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Well, looks like I’m single. Now, how do I contact the fan I just kissed earlier?”
🎸
Gyuvin kicked off his shoes as he stepped into his room, his heart still racing from the madness of the concert. It was all so surreal. The way his hands shook when he was pulled up on stage, Ricky’s lips pressing against his—everything felt like a dream he wouldn’t wake up from.
He plopped onto his bed, pulling out his phone. The photos he’d taken during the concert were still fresh in his mind, and he couldn’t wait to relive the moment. Scrolling through the gallery, he selected a few that captured the energy of the night—the crowd, the band, and the way the lights cut through the haze of smoke. It was electric.
After posting a few to his story, he dropped his phone on the pillow beside him, stretching out. He felt a small, lingering smile tug at his lips, still caught up in the thrill of the kiss. But then, his phone buzzed. He turned back toward it, half-expecting a message from Gunwook or Hanbin, but it was something else. A notification that Ricky’s had posted an Instagram story.
Curious, he tapped it. The slide showed a selfie of Ricky backstage, his tousled hair and cool demeanor still intact even after the chaos of the show. The caption read: “Thanks to everyone who came out tonight! It was unforgettable. See you next time ;)” Upon scanning the photo more, he gulped. There was a P.S. at the bottom of the screen. His face turned into a shade of red almost immediately, and his muffled screams filled his room as he screamed into the pillow.
“Gyuvin-ah, did you like the kiss? ;)”