Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“We borrowed these days to remember who we are.”

The agency’s announcement came quietly, just as Seoul’s first snow melted into slush on January streets:

“Take some time. Rest. Before the year begins.”

After the whirlwind of Phoenix and RISE, the awards, the festivals, and the rooftop promise, it felt like a gift.

One by one, the members packed bags and returned home.

It was rare, painfully rare, for idols to have time to step away, to live even a few days outside of practice rooms and stages, to just be sons and brothers again.

Dongpyo was swept into his mother’s arms the moment he stepped into the small apartment, her tears dampening his hair as she whispered, “You’ve grown.” He found his old bed, sheets rumpled but familiar, and for the first night in a long time, he slept without dreams of choreography counts and stage lights.

Minhee slipped back into the quiet of his room, looking at the posters of stars on his walls, reminders of the boy who once dreamed, realizing he was living it now.

Junho and Eunsang helped their parents with grocery shopping, faces hidden under masks and hats, hearts full as they chose snacks to bring back for the members.

Hyeongjun was ambushed the moment he stepped inside. His two elder sisters pounced, teasing him about his hair, his clothes, even the way he stood.

“Look at you, celebrity now, huh?” one teased, poking his cheek.

“Noona, get off!” Hyeongjun yelped, swatting her away, only to be pulled into a headlock while the other took pictures for blackmail.

They bickered about chores, about which drama was best, about who got the last tangerine, but when his mother hugged him that night, whispering, “I missed you,” Hyeongjun’s laughter softened into quiet tears.

Seungwoo returned to the Victon dorm, stepping into the warmth of voices that felt like home. Seungsik and Byungchan pounced first, dragging him into the kitchen where Chan, Subin, Hanse, and Sejun were already setting up a late dinner.

“You’re too skinny,” Seungsik scolded, piling meat into Seungwoo’s bowl.

“Leader to leader,” Chan joked, “you’re doing well.”

For a few precious days, Seungwoo let himself be Victon’s hyung again, remembering who he was before X1, grateful for who he had become.

Wooseok met up with Jinhoo and a few Up10tion members, a quiet afternoon spent in a small café sharing stories, laughter, and the comfortable silence of friends who had missed each other deeply.

Seungyoun spent a day with his parents, playing guitar softly in the living room, his dog curling at his feet. He cooked for them, burning the rice slightly, but his mother only smiled.

“You’re still my boy,” she whispered, patting his hair.

______________________________________________

A week later, they met at the dorm lobby, bags packed, eyes bright.

“Let’s go,” Seungwoo said, smile warm.

The van climbed winding roads toward a secluded mountain home, snow covering the rooftops, the air crisp and sharp with winter cold.

The retreat was a gift from the hyungs—Seungwoo, Seungyoun, and Wooseok had pooled their money and found a place where they could truly breathe.

“Rule number one,” Seungyoun announced, wagging a finger as they unpacked, “no talking about the future.”

“Rule number two,” Wooseok added, “no working.”

“Rule number three,” Seungwoo finished, “just be here.”

They played in the snow, building crooked snowmen while Minhee and Hyeongjun threw snowballs, shrieking as Dongpyo retaliated with an icy handful down Minhee’s collar.

They cooked together, a chaotic dance in the kitchen—Hangyul nearly set the rice on fire, while Junho and Dohyon argued about seasoning the kimchi stew.

At night, they pulled blankets into the living room, a small fireplace flickering as they shared hot chocolate and roasted marshmallows.

They held a karaoke battle, Felix’s voice blasting from a speaker as Dongpyo performed Cheese with exaggerated drama, Hyeongjun dancing wildly while Eunsang collapsed in laughter.

They walked quiet trails in the snow, breath fogging, footsteps crunching, the world silent around them.

“Remember this,” Seungwoo whispered as they watched the sunrise over the snow-covered trees.

“I will,” Dongpyo promised, tucking his cold hands into Minhee’s coat pocket.

On the last night, as they sat around a small cake (badly frosted by Hangyul and Yohan), the youngest exchanged glances.

“Hyungs,” Hyeongjun began, “we wanted to thank you for all of this.”

“So we planned something,” Minhee added, eyes gleaming.

Dongpyo grinned. “A party.”

“A big party,” Dohyon said.

When they returned to Seoul, the younger members worked in secret, sending messages, organizing group chats.

They invited everyone:

Victon, Up10tion, Cravity, some produce X alumni: Minkyu, Jinwoo, Yuvin, Suhwan, Wanna One, IZ*ONE, I.O.I alumni, Stray Kids, TXT, ATEEZ, Itzy, Enhypen, and 4th-gen friends

__________________________________________

When the day arrived, X1 dorm transformed into a celebration.

Food, drinks, music, and laughter filled the space.

They ate together on the floor, stealing bites, teasing each other, sharing stories of stage mishaps and trainee pranks.

Jungmo and Soobin hugged Junho and Minhee, sharing inside jokes.

Felix and Changbin roped San and Wooyoung into a dance-off with Hangyul.

Somi and Nayoung taught Dongpyo a trending TikTok dance while Jisung recorded, promising to post it later.

Seungwoo found a quiet moment with Seungsik and Byungchan near the window, while Wooseok and Jinhoo laughed over memories with Yohan joining in.

Dohyon and Jinwoo took polaroids of everyone, while Eunsang and Suhwan played guitar in a corner, joined by Seungyoun’s humming harmony.

Hyeongjun and Wonjin leaned against each other, looking around the room.

“Feels like a family reunion,” Wonjin said.

“It is,” Hyeongjun replied softly.

It was chaos and warmth, the kind that left cheeks sore from smiling and hearts aching from the reminder.

They were loved.

They were together.

_________________________________________

As the night drew to a close, they stood in a circle, arms over each other’s shoulders, swaying gently to the low music.

They lit sparklers, waving them in the dark, laughter echoing into the trees, the glow of the sparklers reflected in their eyes.

“We’re ready for 2022,” Seungwoo said quietly.

“We’ll rise again,” Seungyoun promised.

“Together,” the others echoed.

The sparklers burned low, the lights dimming, but the warmth remained.

Outside, Seoul glowed under the winter sky, lights like scattered stars.

Inside, they carried the warmth of that night, ready to face whatever came next—

Together.

Chapter Text

“A promise is a promise, even when the winds turn cold.”

The conference room felt too quiet for the stakes at hand.

The X1 agency sat across from the representatives of each member’s home agency, stacks of papers outlining budgets, projections, and proposed schedules. Coffee cups steamed, untouched, as the discussion turned sharp.

“The world wants to see X1,” one executive said, tapping his pen. “The numbers speak for themselves.”

But numbers were not the problem.

“You’re asking for three months of world tour promotions during the opening of the non-exclusivity period,” one executive from a member’s agency said, voice clipped.

“You’ve had them exclusively for two years already,” another added.

Seungwoo, seated beside Seungyoun and Wooseok, kept his jaw tight, eyes focused.

“With respect, the world tour isn’t about us staying in the agency,” Seungyoun said, his voice calm but steel beneath it. “It’s about maximizing what we’ve built. The attention, the momentum—”

“Your members can prepare solo content during the tour,” the X1 agency’s rep interjected, “staged content, teasers, pre-recorded interviews. We drop them during the tour, building buzz for your solo plans while the members are on the biggest stages of their careers.”

The financial projection slides returned to the screen:

• Merch sales projections in the millions.
• Streaming spikes following concerts.
• YouTube growth.
• Local media coverage for each stop.

But the home agencies were cautious, unwilling to commit, wanting their idols back under their management, preparing group comebacks or solos.

For the younger members, the meeting was an echo of frustrations they thought they had left behind.

Dohyon, seated beside Seungyoun with his laptop open, waited for a moment to present the live production plans he had drafted, showing how the tour could be adapted with VCRs to allow solo teasers.

When he finally spoke, it was quiet but confident.

But when he raised his hand, some representatives from his home agency exchanged glances, eyes sliding past him to look at his manager instead.

“I have the production plan here. If you look, there’s space in each concert for individual stages that could preview upcoming solo music.”

“Your manager can send it to us later.” Said an executive of his agency dismissively.

Dohyon’s eyes flickered, but he swallowed his frustration, glancing at Seungyoun, who gave him a supportive nod.

Minhee and Hyeongjun exchanged a look, frustration bubbling in their chests. They were used to being heard in X1 meetings, their voices valued, their ideas considered. Here, with their home agencies, they felt like children again, spoken over, decisions made around them.

Eunsang placed a steadying hand on Minhee’s knee under the table, a reminder to breathe.

“Hyung,” Minhee whispered to Wooseok during a break, “why does it feel like we’re not allowed to be adults outside of X1?”

Wooseok squeezed his shoulder.

“Because they’re afraid of how strong your voice really is,” he replied.

The debate raged for days.

“We can do Asia only, keep it contained,” one agency insisted.

“We owe it to the fans who waited for years during COVID to go global,” Seungyoun countered.

Logistics, travel restrictions, profit margins, staff scheduling—every reason to keep it small.

But every member felt the weight of the Hold My Hand Challenge videos, thousands of voices from all corners of the world singing their chorus, waiting.

“They believed in us,” Wooseok said quietly during a late-night meeting, “the least we can do is try.”

________________________________________

Late one evening, Minhee, Hyeongjun, and Eunsang went live on Instagram, sprawled on the dorm sofa hair damp from showers, faces fresh, laughter easy as they answered fan questions.

“We’ve been working really hard lately,” Minhee said, eyes glinting.

“On… something,” Eunsang added cautiously, shooting Minhee a look.

“Something big?” a fan commented.

Minhee smirked, playing with the drawstring of his hoodie.

“Maybe.”

Eunsang bit his lip, shaking his head with a small laugh.

“Minhee-hyung,” he warned.

“What? They deserve to know something,” Minhee shrugged.

“Are you going to say it or should I?” Hyeongjun teased.

Fans flooded the chat:

“Comeback?”
“WORLD TOUR?!”
“TELL US!”

Hyeongjun glanced at Eunsang, then leaned in with a mischievous grin.

“We are excited to meet all of you” Minhee blurted.

“MINHEE!” Eunsang yelped, whacking his arm.

The chat exploded, hearts flooding the screen.

“A TOUR?!?!”
“WORLD TOUR OR ASIA???”
“IS THIS REAL????”

The boys grinned at the camera, eyes dancing, ignoring the barrage of Kakao messages flooding from their managers in real time.

When the live ended, they were promptly reprimanded by the staff, but the excitement that ignited online was undeniable.

Later that night, Minhee turned to Eunsang.

“Worth it.”

“Yeah,” Eunsang sighed, smiling despite himself. “Worth it.”

_______________________________________

The following morning, back at the dorm, the members gathered in the living room, tension still hanging in the air.

“This tour needs to happen,” Seungwoo said firmly, looking at each of them.

“We’ve worked too hard to let it end like this,” Seungyoun added.

“If they won’t believe in us, we’ll show them,” Wooseok said.

“We need a name,” Dongpyo said, sprawled on the floor with a notebook.

“Something that matches Phoenix, Rise, and everything we’ve built,” Eunsang mused.

“It should feel hopeful,” Yohan added, “like it’s for the fans.”

“What about… Odyssey?” Dohyon suggested quietly “Like the journey ?”

There was a silence, then Minhee’s smile broke.

“I like it.”

“Odyssey: X1’s Journey,” Seungwoo said, nodding. “It’s decided.”

They divided tasks naturally, like they always did:

• Seungwoo, Seungyoun, Yohan, and Dohyon would handle the setlist and remixes.
• Hyeongjun, Hangyul, and Dongpyo would adapt the choreographies and stage designs for concerts.
• Wooseok, Minhee, Eunsang, and Junho would oversee concepts, visuals, outfits, and VCR preparation.

They were exhausted, but in that moment, with the decision made, they felt alive.

 __________________________________________________

With rumours swirling online, the members dove into preparation.

Seungwoo, Seungyoun, Yohan, and Dohyon gathered in the studio, headphones on, songs playing as they scribbled notes.  Seungyoun adjusting live arrangements, Seungwoo and Yohan testing transitions.

“Let’s open with Phoenix,” Seungyoun suggested. “Hit hard.”

“And we can rework Red Echo with a live band,” Dohyon  suggested. “It’ll give it more power. ”

“And close with Hold My Hand, let the fans sing it with us,” Yohan added.

They crafted a narrative through their songs, telling the X1 story in stages.

Hyeongjun, Hangyul, and Dongpyo took over a practice room, mirrors fogging as they rehearsed, testing wide formations and interactive crowd moments.

They sketched stage designs on whiteboards, discussing LED screens showing sunrise visuals and moments where fans’ voices could be integrated into the show.

“We’ll need wider formations here,” Hangyul noted.

“And more dynamic lifts,” Hyeongjun added, demonstrating a spin that Dongpyo immediately tried (and failed) to copy, dissolving into laughter.

“We’re going to make this unforgettable,” Dongpyo said, sweat shining on his forehead.

Wooseok, Minhee, Eunsang, and Junho surrounded themselves with colour swatches, mood boards and visual references.

“Red, gold, and white for the sunrise concept,” Minhee suggested.

“We need to film the VCRs like it’s a movie,” Wooseok said, his eyes bright.

“Flowing fabrics for Hold My Hand and the calmer songs” Eunsang added, eyes shining.

They planned moments for fan interactions, solo stages hinting at each member’s future while celebrating who they were together.

They debated VCR storylines, wanting to capture the journey of X1 from their first stage to now, a story of hope and endurance.

______________________________________________

As January turned to February, the final decisions from agencies loomed.

Would it be Asia, or the world ? Or worst nothing at all ?

They didn’t know.

But as they stood in the practice room, sweaty and laughing, preparing the final formation for Hold My Hand, they looked at each other and knew:

They were ready.

Ready to rise, ready to meet the fans who had waited so long, ready to remind the world who X1 was—

No matter where the Odyssey would take them.

Chapter Text

“We have waited so long to see you, and now, we are coming.”

The cold of Seoul in late January felt different that year—brighter, charged, as if the city itself was holding its breath for what was coming.

They were called to the agency conference room, a familiar space now filled with tension and the scent of coffee, papers spread out with travel plans, dates, venue proposals.

“It’s confirmed,” the CEO announced.

“Odyssey is happening.”

There was a heartbeat of silence, and then the room erupted.

Hyeongjun nearly tackled Minhee in a hug, Dongpyo screamed, Hangyul whooped, and Seungwoo simply closed his eyes, a soft, relieved smile spreading across his face.

“We’re going to see them,” Eunsang whispered, tears welling.

“Finally,” Seungyoun breathed, clenching his fist.

The scale of it sank in as the details came:

• 30 dates. 5 months.
• Asia and Australia. North and South America. Europe.
• Domes, stadiums, and grand arenas—spaces large enough for their voices, for the light of their fans.

The timing was tight, the schedule brutal, but the promise—meeting the fans they had only seen through screens for years—was worth every difficulty.

But as the excitement bubbled, so did the quiet fears.

That night in the practice room, Yohan said it first:

“It’s going to be hard.”

Seungwoo nodded. “It will. But it’s worth it.”

“We’ll get tired,” Junho added, fidgeting.

“But imagine the faces we’ll see,” Dongpyo countered, eyes shining.

They stood there, in the glow of the practice mirrors, the reflection of eleven young men ready to give everything.

____________________________________

They didn’t announce it all at once.

It was strategic, and a gift to OneIt.

Day 1: X1’s SNS posted a simple note on a black background.

“Dear OneIt, we have good news.”

Day 2: A new post.

“It’s news you have all been waiting for.”

Day 3: A video clip of each member saying, “We’re coming to see you,” in different languages.

Day 4: The reveal.

“X1 WORLD TOUR: ODYSSEY.”

Gold letters on black, the official logo shimmering as Phoenix played softly in the background.

Day 5: The poster dropped, listing every venue and every date.

The fan response was immediate, seismic:

“WE DID IT.”
“Finally, X1 World Tour!”
“Look at those VENUES.”
“This is going to be legendary.”

#X1Odyssey trended #1 worldwide for two days straight.

Reaction videos flooded YouTube, fans crying, laughing, planning outfits, screaming into their phones.

International OneIt posted videos promising to teach the fan chants, to bring banners, to fill the stadiums with their voices.

“We’re really doing this,” Dongpyo whispered, scrolling through posts, eyes bright with disbelief and pride.

“Yeah,” Seungwoo said, resting a hand on his shoulder, “we are.”

“It’s real,” Minhee whispered, scrolling through the comments.

“It’s happening,” Hyeongjun replied, leaning his head on Minhee’s shoulder.

___________________________________________

Excitement was tempered by the reality that this was not only a tour.

During the final agency meeting, the members were informed:

“Each of you will begin preparing your individual projects before departure. The world tour will drive anticipation, but you need to be ready to move forward when you return.”

The words lingered heavily in the room, the meaning clear:

The non-exclusivity era had begun.

Once the tour was set, the agencies called the members individually (or in small groups) for meetings.

[Seungwoo]

He sat across from the Victon manager and Seungsik, sipping coffee.

“Are you ready?” Seungsik asked on a video call, smiling.

“I think so,” Seungwoo replied, the thought of returning to Victon’s practice room filling him with warmth and fear.

“We’ve missed you,” Seungsik said.

“Me too,” Seungwoo whispered.

[Wooseok]

Wooseok listened as the agency laid out plans for his reintegration.

“You’ve grown a lot,” Jinhoo told him quietly after the meeting.

“I hope I can bring that back to Up10tion,” Wooseok replied, determination in his eyes.

[Minhee & Hyeongjun]

They sat together, hands nervously intertwined under the table.

“You’re going to join Cravity,” the manager said.

Hyeongjun’s eyes widened.

“Really?” Minhee choked out.

“Wonjin, Jungmo and the other are waiting,” the manager smiled. “And we believe it’s the best course of action for now”

They left the meeting in stunned silence before screaming in the parking lot, hugging each other so tightly they nearly fell over.

[Dohyon & Hangyul]

The agency presented a plan for a duo debut.

“The two of you together will be unstoppable,” the CEO said.

Hangyul threw an arm around Dohyon’s shoulders.

“Brothers on stage, huh?”

“Let’s show them what we can do,” Dohyon replied with a small grin.

[Seungyoun]

Seungyoun entered with a stack of demos, ready to fight.

“I’m not stopping,” he told them.

“We don’t want you to,” the director said, laughing.

His solo debut would be a genre-bending showcase, a testament to who he had become.

[Junho]

Junho’s agency offered him a role in a drama.

“It’s a youth drama, and we want you for the lead.”

Junho blinked, stunned, before slowly smiling.

“I want to try.”

[Yohan, Dongpyo, Eunsang]

All three were confirmed to release solo music, each with their distinct sound.

“A dance-focused concept,” Dongpyo demanded with determination.

“Ballads that speak for me,” Eunsang suggested.

“A mix of vocals and R&B,” Yohan asked, confident.

________________________________________________

It was late, ramen bowls scattered on the table, the heater humming softly as the eleven members sat in a loose circle on the living room floor, knees brushing, shoulders bumping, the soft glow of the city lights outside filtering into their safe space.

“Okay,” Seungwoo said, clapping his hands lightly, “it’s time. Let’s talk about what comes after the tour.”

A hush settled, the warmth of the room holding them close.

Minhee cleared his throat first.

“Well… you all know now,” he said, glancing at Hyeongjun, who grinned back. “We’re joining Cravity. Officially.”

Hyeongjun pumped his fist.

“We get to stand on stage with Wonjin and Jungmo! It’s like… like the dream we thought we lost,” he said, eyes shining.

“We’re so proud of you!” Dongpyo cheered, throwing an arm around Hyeongjun’s shoulders.

“You’ll light up the group,” Wooseok said, nodding.

“Yeah, you’ll make them even stronger,” Seungyoun added with a soft smile.

Minhee ducked his head, cheeks flushed, but the grin wouldn’t leave his face.

Junho picked at the label on his water bottle before speaking up.

“I… I’m going to act. I’ve been offered a role in a youth drama,” he said quietly.

“WHAT?!” Hangyul shouted, eyes wide.

“Ya! Actor Cha Junho!” Dohyon teased, throwing a piece of snack at him.

Junho laughed, cheeks pink.

“I’m excited, but also… scared. What if I mess up? What if I can’t do it?”

“Junho-ya,” Seungwoo said gently, “you’ll be amazing. And we’ll be there, watching every episode.”

“And live-commenting in the group chat,” Yohan added with a smirk.

“Please don’t,” Junho groaned, but he was smiling.

Seungyoun practically bounced, eyes alight.

“I’m going to drop music. A lot of it. I have so many demos, you don’t even know,” he said.

“How many?” Eunsang asked.

“Fifty? Sixty? Who’s counting?” Seungyoun shrugged dramatically, and they all laughed.

“Can I… can I ask for your help?” Eunsang asked quietly. “I want to write my own songs, but… I don’t know if I can do it alone just yet.”

Seungyoun’s grin softened.

“Of course, little bro. Let’s do it together.”

Dongpyo raised a hand.

“I want to focus on dance. I want to create choreography that makes people feel something,” he said.

“If you need help or another point of view don’t hesitate,” Hyeongjun chimed in. “We’ll make stages that people remember.”

“And don’t forget about me, right?” Hangyul poked Dongpyo’s side.

“Obviously,” Dongpyo huffed, pretending to be offended.

Dohyon and Hangyul high-fived.

“The duo is coming,” Hangyul said confidently.

“I’ll handle the beats, you handle the performance,” Dohyon added, a small, rare grin tugging at his lips.

“Deal,” Hangyul said, slinging an arm around him.

Yohan was quiet, staring at the floor, twisting the ring on his finger. Seungwoo noticed.

“Yohan-ah?” he called softly.

Yohan looked up, eyes uncertain.

“Hyung… I’m going to stand alone on stage. For the first time,” he whispered. “And I’m scared. What if I fail? What if… what if I’m not enough?”

Seungwoo moved, crossing the space to sit beside him, pulling Yohan into a hug.

“Yohan, you’re never alone,” Seungwoo murmured. “You’re strong, and even if you stumble, we’re here. Always.”

“Always,” Seungyoun repeated, leaning over to ruffle Yohan’s hair.

“Forever,” Minhee whispered.

____________________________________

The room was quiet, filled with warmth and the quiet sounds of breathing.

Dongpyo swallowed, hugging his knees.

“Promise me we won’t drift apart,” he whispered, voice trembling.

The fear was raw, real, sitting in the silence.

Seungwoo moved first, pulling Dongpyo into a hug, holding him tightly.

“We promise,” Seungwoo said firmly, looking each of them in the eyes.

“We’re X1,” Wooseok added.

“We’re family,” Hangyul said.

“We’re stuck with each other,” Hyeongjun laughed, wiping a tear.

Minhee reached out, ruffling Dongpyo’s hair.

“You’re stuck with us,” he joked.

“No matter where we go,” Junho said.

“No matter what we do,” Yohan added.

“We’ll always find our way back,” Eunsang whispered.

“Together,” Seungyoun finished.

They moved closer, arms draped over shoulders, heads leaning together, laughter bubbling up through tears.

Outside, the cold wind brushed past the windows, but inside, the warmth of promise held them together.

In that moment, they were not idols or performers, not soloists or actors or leaders or maknaes.

They were eleven boys, who found a family in each other.

Ready to face the dawn together.

Chapter Text

“When the lights rise, and the voices join, it is no longer just a stage—it is home.”

The week before the tour was chaos in the best way.

Days began before sunrise with meetings, stage design reviews, and lighting tests. Nights bled into dawn inside the practice rooms as they ran the setlist over and over, sweat pooling on the floors, laughter echoing between tired groans.

Their old dorm, warm with memories but cramped, was no longer enough for the coming storm. They decided to split into two larger dorms:

• One near Starship with mostly with the younger member for Minhee, Hyeongjun, Hangyul, Dohyon, Dongpyo.
• Another near Yuehua and MBK for most of the eldest Seungwoo, Seungyoun, Yohan, Wooseok, Eunsang, Junho.

Packing was messy—hoodies misplaced causing bickering, negotiation around common mugs, pillows and blankets, old trainee photos resurfacing, goodbye selfies in empty rooms.

“It’s weird,” Hyeongjun whispered to Minhee, clutching his Produce hoodie. “Feels like leaving home.”

“We’re just making a new one,” Minhee reassured, slinging an arm around him.

They promised to video call each night, despite being minutes away.

_________________________________________________________________

The news came in on a quiet afternoon during rehearsals.

Minhee nearly dropped his water bottle, staring at the manager’s phone.

“What…? Already?”

“It’s been three hours,” the manager said, half-laughing, half-teary. “Seoul Dome, Tokyo Dome, LA, London… every stop, sold out.”

The practice room erupted.

Dongpyo hugged Hyeongjun so hard they almost toppled over, Seungyoun spun Junho around, and Seungwoo simply leaned against the mirror, eyes closed, letting the tears come.

“They’re waiting for us,” Wooseok whispered.

“We’ll go to them,” Seungwoo replied, voice steady, the words a promise.

_______________________________________________________________

They arrived early, stepping into the vast emptiness of the dome as staff bustled around them. It felt unreal—the sheer scale, the knowledge that soon, every seat would hold someone who had waited years to see them.

Seungwoo stood in the centre, breathing deeply.

“We’re ready,” he said.

Seungyoun clapped him on the back.

“Let’s give them everything.”

Backstage, the tension vibrated through them.

They could hear the fans chanting even before the lights dimmed, the walls vibrating with the waves of voices.

Hyeongjun peeked through the curtain, eyes widening.

“Hyung… it’s so many.”

“It’s all of them,” Seungyoun whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Dongpyo, shaking slightly, was hugged from behind by Eunsang.

“Ready?” Eunsang asked.

“More than ever,” Dongpyo replied, his grin trembling.

Seungwoo gathered them in a circle, arms draping over shoulders.

“Tonight, we give them everything,” he said.

“And we take it all in,” Yohan added, smiling.

They nodded, hearts pounding, eyes shining.

The lights dimmed, the screens flickered alive, and the roar began.

_______________________________________________________________

The concert started with the opening synth of Flash shattering the silence. The Dome exploded in light and sound, fans screaming, waving lightsticks in a synchronized sea of light.

They transitioned into Move, the choreography crisp, the energy infectious, before Red Echo drenched the stage in deep crimson, the crowd jumping in unison, the ground beneath their feet alive.

After it was time for the unit songs.

The rap unit’s Low Sky shook the Dome, Dohyon’s verses raw, Yohan’s voice smooth, Seungyoun’s rap sharp, the fans roaring with every drop.

The vocal unit’s Candle Glass turned the Dome into a galaxy of soft lights, Seungwoo and Wooseok’s voices blending with Minhee and Junho’s, fans swaying, many wiping tears.

The performance unit’s Zero Hour had the Dome on its feet, Hangyul, Hyeongjun, Dongpyo, and Eunsang moving like fire, the bass pulsing in sync with thousands of heartbeats.

After anther VCR, they turned dressed in soft tones, lights dimmed to a soft glow.

“We wrote this for you,” Seungwoo said, voice thick.

I’m Here for You wrapped around the Dome, fans joining softly in the chorus, voices mingling in the air.

Home Light followed, Eunsang’s clear vocals echoing, the chorus lifting like a prayer, the moment sacred, quiet tears streaming down faces in the crowd and on stage.

During the show, they also took the time to express their love to their fans.

“We waited so long to meet you,” Seungwoo said, voice breaking.

“It’s like a dream,” Eunsang added softly.

“I can’t believe we’re here,” Dongpyo sobbed, Minhee holding his hand.

“Thank you for holding on, for waiting, for rising with us,” Seungyoun said.

“We’ll keep going, together,” Wooseok promised, raising his mic.

“We’ll see you again, everywhere,” Hyeongjun added, smiling through tears.

Darkness returned, replaced by the piercing guitar of Eclipse (rock version), the energy spiking again as the crowd screamed, lights flashing.

Iron Will followed, the Kingdom version powerful, precise, the choreography sharp, vocals unwavering.

Then Phoenix—red and gold, the stage alight with flames, fans chanting, jumping, crying, a promise of rising no matter how many times they fell.

Between songs, they spotted friends:

Seungsik and Byungchan waving Victon lightsticks, grinning.

Wonjin and Jungmo, standing with Cravity members, screaming.

Han, Felix, and Chan from Stray Kids clapping, recording videos.

Daehwi and Jisung from Wanna One waving wildly.

“Our family is here,” Yohan whispered to Junho between songs.

While the members where changing, the VCR this time wasn’t about a story, it was snippets, teasers of things to come. The promised solo projects promotions starting. The VCR ending with the message “Get to know us each in different ways. We’ll be waiting for you”

They returned in X1 Odyssey T-shirts, hair damp with sweat, eyes bright, voices hoarse but filled with joy.

They launched into One Flame, the chant-like chorus shaking the Dome, followed by Ascend, the triumphant beat lifting spirits, and Shine We Fall, the crowd clapping in sync, the energy uncontainable.

As they caught their breath, the screens flickered.

A fan project video began to play:

• Fans from around the country holding banners.
• Tears and laughter as fans said, “Thank you, X1,” each in their own way.
• Stories of how X1’s music helped them through loneliness, exams, sickness, fear.
• Messages of hope, love, and unwavering support.

“Thank you for staying,” one fan said.

“Thank you for rising,” another whispered.

Dongpyo was the first to cry, covering his face. Hyeongjun hugged him, tears streaming. Seungwoo’s shoulders shook as he smiled, and even Seungyoun wiped his eyes.

The crowd chanted, “X1, thank you!” over and over.

The final song was Hold My Hand but this time acapella.

“Will you sing with us?” Seungwoo asked, voice shaking.

“One last song,” Dongpyo whispered.

They began Hold My Hand softly, mics lowered, the crowd’s voices rising, filling the Dome with a harmony that resonated in the night.

“Hold my hand, we won’t let go…”

The eleven members sang with them, tears in their eyes, smiles wide, reaching out to the crowd.

Time stopped.

They were no longer idols and fans; they were family, holding each other, holding on.

After this perfect moment, following the call of the fans they came back for an encore : One Flame, Ascend and Pretty Girl

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After the concert, backstage was a mess of tears, laughter, and hugs. Hyeongjun sobbed into Minhee’s shoulder, Dongpyo held Eunsang’s hand tightly, Seungwoo’s eyes shining as he embraced Seungyoun.

The fan chants were still echoing in their ears, the roar of “X1! X1!” burned into their souls.

“We did it,” Seungwoo whispered.

“And we’ll keep doing it,” Seungyoun replied.

Their phones buzzed with messages from friends:

• Cravity’s chat exploding with congratulations.
• Victon’s group chat sending selfies from the audience.
• Stray Kids, Ateez, and even seniors from Wanna One sending them videos cheering.
• OneIt flooding SNS with hashtags, fan cams, and messages of pride.

That night, in their new dorms, they called each other, screens filled with tired faces and bright smiles.

“We did it,” Seungwoo whispered.

“And we’re just beginning,” Seungyoun said, grinning.

“ We have so much to see yet” Hyeongjun added.

They were exhausted, voices hoarse, bodies aching—

But in their hearts, they were full of anticipation.

The Odyssey had begun.

Chapter Text

“Every city, a promise. Every stage, a sunrise.”

They started the tour with the Asian leg.

Japan, Thailand, Indonesia, the Philippines, Singapore and Sydney—each airport arrival was greeted with screams and tears, handmade banners, and the bright sea of OneIt’s lightsticks.

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Tokyo: Lantern Lights

The moment they stepped onto the stage at Tokyo Dome, the roar of fans hit them like a wave, thousands of voices blending into one heartbeat.

“They’re so loud,” Dongpyo whispered to Seungwoo, clutching his mic as the lights began to swirl.

“Breathe,” Seungwoo murmured back, squeezing his shoulder. “We’re here.”

They opened with Flash, Move, and Red Echo, the Japanese fan chants perfect, precise, passionate.

For the encore after One Flame and Ascend, they performed “U Got It”, the familiar beat bringing the crowd to their feet, the chorus echoing around them.

Like in Seoul, they were surprised by a beautiful fan project : a video appeared on the screen showing OneIts holding paper lanterns glowing in the dark, each with handwritten messages of “Thank you for staying.” On the paper lanterns with messages like, “Thank you for finding us”, “Your music saves us.” Dongpyo openly sobbed on stage, and Hyeongjun pulled him into a hug, whispering, “They waited for us.”

Seungyoun teased a snippet of a new beat during his ment, saying in Japanese, “Something is coming soon.”

After the concert they took the time to explore the city.

Seungwoo found himself trailing behind Dongpyo in Shibuya, the younger darting between arcades and street performers, laughing brightly.

“Hyung, try this crepe!” Dongpyo shouted, handing it over with strawberry cream dripping onto Seungwoo’s wrist.

Meanwhile, Minhee and Wooseok explored a quiet bookstore, Wooseok flipping through books while Minhee secretly took pictures of him looking soft under the warm lights.

Yohan and Junho wandered near Shibuya, Junho whispering, “I wish we could bring everyone here.”

Dongpyo, Seungyoun and Hangyul found a gachapon street, competing to find the cutest keychain.

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Bangkok: Heat and Laughter

The Bangkok heat pressed heavy on their skin, but the fans’ cheers were a breeze.

The stadium was a living sea of waving lightsticks, the humid air electric.

During Phoenix, Junho’s voice cracked slightly, but the fans only screamed louder, lifting him.

They ended the concert with “Mirrored Sky”, the reflective lyrics and bright melody matching the lightstick glow, the crowd swaying, many crying as the soft, powerful chorus filled the humid night.

During a ment, Dongpyo started to dance a new choreography before Seungwoo stopped him, telling him not to spoil with a big smile on his face.

The fan project was a wave of blue banners reading, “You are our light.” completed by the crowd singing I'm Here For You to them.

Junho became emotional, clutching the mic, voice breaking as he said, “I miss home sometimes, but seeing your smiles makes it worth it.” Before waving shyly at the sea of support.

Hyeongjun hugged him from behind, eyes misty.

The next morning, every one decided to explore Bangkok, only Dongpyo staying at the hotel to call his family.

Seungyoun, Wooseok and Seungwoo visited a floating market, buying fruit for the others.

Yohan and Hangyul wandered through temples, quietly taking in the calm.

Hyeongjun, Eunsang, and Junho had sworn they would only go for a quick walk.

They returned three hours later, sticky with mango juice, having gotten lost near the market after following a cat down a side street.

“We’re never letting you three go out alone again,” Minhee scolded, but laughter shook his shoulders.

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Manila: Rain and Voices

The manila concert was a wet one. But even as rain fell on the open-roof venue, fans in ponchos never stopped waving their lightsticks, voices rising above the storm.

Seungwoo smiled, turning his face to the drizzle, brushing his hair out of his face.  “Rain or shine, we’re here with you,” he said, the crowd’s cheers a thunderstorm of love.

“We’re together,” Eunsang said, glancing around at his brothers, the droplets glistening on their hair illuminate by the stage spotlight.

The setlist carried Flash, Move, Red Echo, and the unit stages, the rain creating a surreal, beautiful backdrop.

During his ment, Junho sharing he was reading scripts and hoped that the fan would like it.

The last song this time was “Revival Code,” their voices blending with the rain, the beat steady and breaking through the storm.

Fans lifted their phones lights during Home Light, creating a quiet galaxy beneath the drizzle, the rain making the lights glisten, the moment etched in memory.

The next day, Dongpyo and Hyeongjun shared a clear umbrella, weaving through a market. Dongpyo pulled Hyeongjun to a vendor selling tiny painted trinkets, their laughter mixing with the rain as Hyeongjun haggled for a set of matching charms.

Junho, Eunsang  and Dohyon discovered halo-halo, eyes lighting up at the sweetness.

 Wooseok and Minhee visited a quiet church, lighting candles for health and safe travels.

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Sydney: Waves and Breath

In Sydney, the members were wide-eyed, breathing in the ocean air.

“We’re really on the other side of the world,” Yohan whispered as they looked out at the harbour.

The Australian sky was endless, and the sea air felt like freedom.

During the concert, the roar of the fans surprised them, their voices filling the arena with warmth.

After One Flame and Ascend, they performed “Break the Dark,” the bass heavy, fans clapping in rhythm, the energy rolling like the ocean they had visited that morning.

Yohan, already dealing with hoarseness, almost lost his voice mid-performance, but the crowd’s voices carried him through. After, he whispered to Seungwoo, “They’re stronger than us.”

They visited Bondi Beach, the younger ones splashing in the waves, the older members sitting back, letting the breeze wash over them.

Hangyul, Dohyon, and Yohan attempted to surf resulting in a chaotic video of them tumbling over each other, laughing breathlessly as the water crashed around them.

That night, they fell asleep early, salt still in their hair, sunburns warm on their skin.

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After a short time back in Korea, to take a break and to continue quickly the solo project preparation, it was time for the American leg of the tour. They were all excited, for most it was their first time going to America. The schedule was packed : LA, Seattle, Oklahoma City, Fort Worth, Chicago, Atlanta and finally New York.

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Los Angeles: Neon and Longing

In Los Angeles, the Hollywood sign was visible from the window of the van that lead them to their hotel.

Junho pressing his hand to the glass, eyes wide. 

“I never thought I’d be here,” he whispered.

The LA venue was alive with chants in English and Korean, blending beautifully.

During Ascend, Hangyul’s knee twinged painfully, but he pressed on, hiding the wince behind his bright smile.

During the last part of the concert, a fan project video played. OneIts from across the Americas saying, “You made it here.”, showing banners, albums, talking about discovering and loving X1. 

Dongpyo covered his face, shaking with sobs, as Eunsang and Minhee hugged him from either side.

They surprised their fan with “Dawn Runner” as an encore, the crowd moving like a single wave, the energy addictive.

The morning after, Minhee and Wooseok grabbed iced coffees, sitting on a low wall under palm trees, simply watching the world pass.

“Feels unreal,” Minhee whispered.

“We’re really here,” Wooseok replied, smiling softly.

 Seungwoo and Seungyoun visited a local music shop, jamming quietly.

Junho and Yohan explored a small cafe by the beach, Junho sketching in a notebook.

Hangyul and Dohyon walked the streets, taking in the energy of LA. They filmed a short vlog using snippet of their project in it.

 Dongpyo and Hyeongjun bought matching caps, filming goofy videos for fans.

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New York: Lights and Reflection

By the time they reached New York, exhaustion clung to them.

Jet lag left Hyeongjun glassy-eyed during rehearsals, Hangyul stretched slowly before each set, careful of his knee still tender, and Dongpyo quietly iced his ankle each night.

Yet the moment they stepped on stage, the tiredness faded beneath the roar of OneIts.

“You give us strength,” Yohan said, wiping sweat from his forehead, eyes soft.

At the end, the stage bathed in deep sapphire as they sang “Burning Blue”, the fans’ voices weaving around the melody.

The fan project was thousands of blue planes flying toward the stage during Hold My Hand, the fans voices rising with X1’s in a promise that echoed into the New York night.

Their final night before flying to South America, they bundled in hoodies, slipping into the cool air.

The idea came from Dongpyo, who declared, “We can’t leave New York without seeing Times Square.”

So, late that night, after the encore had faded from their bones and their voices were hoarse from singing with Oneits, the eleven of them pulled on caps and masks, bundling into hoodies to hide the glint of idol from their tired, glowing faces.

“Let’s go, quietly,” Seungwoo said, but Dongpyo was already bouncing on the balls of his feet.

They slipped out of the hotel, into the cool air of New York, the city humming with midnight life.

The closer they walked, the brighter the world became.

Lights towered above them, flickering and flashing, each screen its own universe. They passed street performers, blinking neon diners, and late-night taxis honking softly as they passed.

And then, they stood in the centre of Times Square, looking up.

BTS smiled down from a billboard, their song pulsing faintly from someone’s speaker nearby. On another screen, Blackpink’s MV flashed in pink and chrome. Seventeen’s members beamed, a concert teaser dancing across the lights.

“Look, K-pop is everywhere here,” Yohan whispered, awe in his voice.

“Feels like a dream,” Junho murmured, pressing close to Eunsang and Hyeongjun.

The world was alive, warm despite the chill.

And then, suddenly, on a big screen to their left, the feed shifted.

On a sea of etheral blue mixed with Sunshine Yellow, the X1 Odyssey logo emerged slowly. Followed by their faces appearing one by one in soft flashes.

“The Odyssey World Tour – Welcome X1.” was written below it. 

They froze.

The roar of the city fell away for a moment, leaving only the glow of the lights and the pounding of their hearts.

Dongpyo’s hand found Seungwoo’s sleeve, clutching it.

“We really made it, hyung,” he whispered, voice trembling under the mask.

Seungwoo turned, pulling Dongpyo into a hug, pressing a hand to the back of his head as Dongpyo buried his face in his hoodie.

“Yeah,” Seungwoo said softly, “We really did.”

The moment was broken by Minhee yelling and pointing up to another billboard with a sharp gasp.

“HYUNG!” he shouted, uncaring of the crowd around them.

They all turned, eyes following his finger, and there it was:

A towering Dior ad, the sleek monochrome image of Wooseok looking down on Times Square, dressed in a sharp suit, the brand’s logo shimmering beneath him.

For a moment, they all stood in stunned silence.

Then chaos erupted.

“WOAH, HYUNG!” Hangyul yelled.

“Look at you!” Yohan laughed, smacking Wooseok’s arm.

“Can we get your autograph, Mr. Model?” Seungyoun teased, bowing dramatically.

“Hyung, it’s so huge! You look so tall !” Dongpyo shouted, eyes wide.

Wooseok turned bright red, tugging his cap lower.

“Stop it, you guys,” he mumbled, but he was smiling, his eyes glinting with quiet pride.

Minhee threw an arm around his shoulders.

“You look so cool, Wooseok-hyung.”

“Our hyung is a Dior ambassador after all” Eunsang said, clapping with exaggerated seriousness.

“We have to brag about this later” Dohyon added, already pulling out his phone to take a photo.

They stood there, letting the lights wash over them, letting the moment etch itself into memory.

“We’re really here, we made it !” Hyeongjun whispered.

“And we’re not done yet,” Seungwoo said, his arm around Dongpyo, his eyes bright as they all looked up at the glow of their tour ad and Wooseok’s silent, powerful gaze from above.

And for that moment, beneath the lights of the city that never sleeps, they were young, tired, victorious, and together.

Their journey continued, but here—here they were seen.

They turned back toward the hotel, laughter trailing behind them, as the lights of Times Square burned on, holding the promise of everything still to come.

Chapter Text

“Every dawn in a new city, we find pieces of ourselves.”

The American leg of the tour was entering its second tour with South America. The members were to perform in Mexico City, São Paulo, Buenos Aires, Santiago and Bogota. It was a brand new experience for most of the members except for Seungyeon. He was excited to show his members around São Paulo where he lived for a few years. 

São Paulo : Childhood echoes

The air in São Paulo was thick with heat and promise.

As the arena lights dimmed, the roar of Brazilian OneIts surged like a wave, so loud that even backstage, Dongpyo clutched Eunsang’s arm, eyes wide.

“They’re so loud, hyung.”

“They’ve been waiting,” Eunsang whispered, smiling.

They opened with Flash, Move, Red Echo, the crowd chanting in near-perfect Korean.

X1 had a suprise for the fans as Seungyeon played the MC for the whole concert with his rusty portuguese and a brilliant smile.  

After One Flame and Ascend, they performed “Stand Up”, the stadium lights bouncing off homemade banners that read, “Obrigado, X1.”

During the encore, the fan project video showed fans dancing to Hold My Hand in beaches, living rooms, and busy streets, their voices forming a soft, collective promise.

Dongpyo wiped tears, waving as he shouted, “Obrigado! We love you!”

After the concert, Minhee and Junho wandered together, filming each other with borrowed film cameras, capturing colours they never wanted to forget.

Meanwhile, Seungwoo and Dongpyo slipped into a quiet café, Seungwoo letting Dongpyo chatter about ideas for choreography with a soft smile on his face.

Seungyoun and Hangyul tried a capoeira demonstration, ending up tangled, breathless with laughter.

In the same time, Hyeongjun, Eunsang, and Dohyon found a mural and filmed a quick dance cover, grinning, the city alive around them.

And as they had a day more than usual, Seungyoun dragged his members to his favorites places in the city. 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

On the plane to Buenos Aires, Seungyoun posted a black-and-white clip of him in a studio, guitar in hand, caption: “Coming soon.”

Fans lost their minds.

At the same time, PlayM posted a throwback Victon clip with Seungwoo front and centre, captioned “Is it time?”

Seungwoo smiled quietly, saving the post on his phone.

Buenos Aires : Golden energy

In Argentina, the energy was electric, the air pulsing as fans sang Phoenix in Spanish, tears on their cheeks.

A fan project had fans waving golden paper suns during the final chorus.  Each of them saying : “Thank you for coming.” in spanish, english and Korean.

Before Hold My Hand, they performed “Wild Horizon”, the beat sharp, the fans jumping, waving their lightsticks in perfect rhythm.

During their free time, Hangyul and Dongpyo wandered through cobbled streets, the younger pulling Hangyul toward street performers playing violins.

“This is beautiful,” Dongpyo whispered, eyes shining.

“So are you,” Hangyul said softly, ruffling his hair.

Wandering the streets, Hyeongjun, Eunsang, and Junho found a colourful street, recording chaotic dance clips, Junho nearly knocking over a street sign. And running away laughing.

That night Starship posted a short video: Wonjin running to the rest of Cravity, shouting : “Hyung, I found them!”

The clip ended there.

Fans exploded in speculation.

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After the American leg ended, because of the short timeline, the schedule didn't stop and X1 flew directly to Europe for the last leg of the tour. They were to visit some of the most iconic european cities : Madrid, Lisbon, Paris, Amsterdam, Berlin, Budapest and London. 

Madrid : Warm welcomes

In Madrid, the venue was a mosaic of flags and lightsticks, Spanish OneIts chanting names and waving “Bienvenidos” signs.

After One Flame and Ascend, they performed “Shine we fall” the heavy bass matching the stomps of the crowd.

During their ments, Minhee voice trembled. The fans responded with loud cheers full of anticipation. 

“We have something to share soon,” he said, glancing at Seungwoo, who squeezed his hand.

Oneit never disappointed with the fan project, this time a beautiful book filled with fans letters and fan arts was given to the members, one for each of them. They received it with tears in their eyes and promised to cherished it on instagram while thanking the fans profusely. 

During down time, Minhee, Hyeongjun, and Wooseok went out for tappas, wanting to taste the real ones.

Minhee getting sauce everywhere, the others laughing.

Seungyoun and Junho explored an art museum, Junho sketching Seungyoun as he pretended to pose like a painting.

And Dongpyo, Hangyul, and Dohyon sang softly in a quiet plaza with a beautiful echo, while exploring the city and savoring the moment shared together.

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But as the tour progressed toward its end, exhaustion clung to them quietly and more powerful than ever :

• Hyeongjun often wake up disoriented and sad, missing home and having the most difficulties with the jetlag.
• Hangyul now needed to stretch longer before each rehearsal and performance, knee and back tight.
• Yohan was sometime moving slower backstage, nodding off on the van rides unlike before.
• Dongpyo started to ice his ankles, eyes tired but still dancing with joy.

Still, when the lights rose each night, they gave everything, their bodies moving on muscle memory, hearts pounding with each cheer. They found strength in the cheers that lifted them.

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On the flight to Paris, Hyeongjun and Minhee posted a photo of their hands forming a heart, with the caption: “Soon.”

Fans erupted in speculation, “Cravity? A X1 subunit ? What does it mean?”

Paris :  Lights in the hearts

In Paris, the air felt crisp, the lights of the Eiffel Tower blinking in the distance as they performed.

After One Flame and Ascend, they performed “Flicker flame” the emotional chorus soaring in the venue.

The fan project was simple but beautiful: small neon yellow paper hearts lifted during Home Light while every other light was turned off. Forming a quiet, star-like sea of gratitude in an almost reverent atmosphere.

Early in the morning, Yohan and Eunsang shared a quiet walk along the Seine, Yohan tossing a coin into a fountain, eyes full of hope. 

Seungwoo and Hangyul found a small café for their breakfast, sipping coffee while people-watching, letting the moment breathe.

Dongpyo and Dohyon found a street magician and joined in the crowd, reverting to small children for a few minutes.

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London : Rain and memories

London’s venue was filled with fans chanting in English, Korean, and their own languages.

Once more the rain decorated the concert and changing the performance to one to be remembered for the years to come. 

Particularly the performance of Zero Hour by the Performance Unit with the silk costumes darkened by the water and hair slicking the hair of the members will become a fan favorite. 

A fan video played, fans from across Europe singing "One Flame" chorus in unisson. 

Before Hold My Hand, they performed “Tin Hallo” the crowd swaying, lights turning the arena into a sea of blue and the rain into a magical curtain reflecting the lights. 

During their encore ment, Minhee and Hyeongjun exchanged a glance.

“We have something to tell you,” Minhee said, voice shaking.

“We’re going to perform with friends again,” Hyeongjun added, tears glinting. “But it’s a secret, okay?”

The crowd screamed in joy and curiosity.

 The next morning, Starship posted one more teaser: a blurred photo of Cravity with only silhouettes visible but they were 9 members this time not 7, the caption reading : “Coming next.”

OneIts flooded SNS with support “We will support you always”, “Cravity and X1 forever,” “So proud.”

Rain still fell as they explored, umbrellas bobbing. Seungyoun and Yohan got caught in the drizzle, before taking photos of the London Eye.

Minhee, Junho, and Hyeongjun found a vintage shop, laughing as they tried on silly hats and scarfs.

Dongpyo, Eunsang, and Wooseok found a quiet square, jumping in puddles of rain around a large tree, carefree.

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Seoul : One last time together

The Odyssey Tour Finale returned to Seoul for an encore, the Sky Dome packed, sold out in minutes, streamed across the world, one last part of the tor shared with as much fans possible.

They performed with everything they had:

• Flash, Move, Red Echo opened the night with a bang that seems bigger than before.
• Unit stages of Low Sky, Candle Glass, and Zero Hour lit the arena, the fans singing and dancing in unison with the group.
• Eclipse, Iron Will, and Phoenix roared through the night while fireworks tore through the sky.
• I’m Here for You and Home Light stilled the world for a time. A moment out of time, shared between the members and those who had been by their side since the beginning.

During the encore, One Flame and Ascend were followed by Dawn we call and finally Hold My Hand where they quickly turned off the backing track letting the voices of OneIts carry them one last time.

After the final notes faded, the lights dimmed, and the members gathered, sweat and tears streaming down their faces.

Seungwoo stepped forward, mic in hand.

“You have given us everything during this last months” he began, voice breaking. “And now, we want to give you our promise.”

Seungyoun joined him, smiling through his tears.

“We’re going to be doing different things soon. Seungwoo will return to Victon. I will share my own music. Others will find new paths.”

The crowd held its breath.

Minhee stepped forward, grabbing the mic.

“But X1 is not going anywhere,” he said firmly, eyes bright. “We are exploring, learning, growing, so that when we come back, we can stand even stronger for you.”

The arena erupted, chants of “X1! X1! X1!” echoing through the night.

Dongpyo turned, hugging Seungwoo, sobbing softly.

“We’re not done, right, hyung?”

“No,” Seungwoo whispered, pulling him close. “As long as we are together it'll never end.”

As the lights of the Sky Dome glowed then dimmed, the members stood hand in hand, looking out at the sea of OneIts, feeling the promise of tomorrow pulsing through them.

They were tired, they were ready, they were together and even the future would not tear them apart.

Chapter Text

“Home isn’t always where you return to. Sometimes, it’s what you learn to build again.”

It was mid-June, and the air smelled of sun-warmed concrete and the promise of rain.

While the world moved toward summer break, X1 was stepping into something else.

The season of separation had begun. They now had to find themselves in an other way, in a new agency and a new space.

They had talked about it, again and again, late at night in the dorms, sitting cross-legged in hoodies, their voices soft under the hum of the air conditioner:

“It’s not goodbye,” Seungwoo had said, looking around the room.
“It’s just… new beginnings,” Seungyoun had added, eyes bright even in the dark.

And now, the first to step into those beginnings were Minhee and Hyeongjun.

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They had been to Starship countless times before—as trainees, as friends visiting Cravity, as idols dropping by to laugh with Jungmo and Wonjin.

But today, as they swiped in and took the elevator up, everything felt heavier.

Inside the practice room, Cravity was gathered, laughter echoing off the mirrors.

Wonjin’s face lit up when he saw them.

“Minhee! Hyeongjun! Get over here!”

Jungmo grinned, pulling Minhee into a hug, ruffling Hyeongjun’s hair.

For a heartbeat, it felt the same as always.

But then the laughter faded, and the quiet that followed was different.

They joined practice, slipping into formations for the upcoming new album preparation.

Hyeongjun tried to match Allen’s sharp, clean movements, but he kept second-guessing himself, forgetting which side to turn on, the counts tangling in his head, X1 choreography still fresh in his mind.

In X1, he was the dancer, the one who caught details, the bright energy that lifted the room.

But here, Cravity already had Allen, who moved with quiet precision, his leadership in dance clear, and Wonjin, whose bright laugh and constant chatter filled the spaces Hyeongjun usually slipped into.

Minhee stayed in the back, watching.

He's use to step in when the energy lagged, cracking a quiet joke that made a few members snort—but here, it felt like dropping a too small stone into a pond, ripples smalls and fading too quickly.

In X1, Minhee was the quiet chaos, the steady presence that anchored everyone.

But here, it was Jungmo who filled that space, his quick wit and calm jokes already woven into the group’s rhythm.

When they took breaks, Wonjin sat with them, chattering about ideas, while Jungmo threw an arm around Minhee’s shoulders, trying to pull him into conversations.

But there were moments—small, sharp moments—when they saw Serim and Seongmin exchange a glance, Allen hesitating before explaining something again, Taeyoung’s bright energy flickering with uncertainty.

They were outsiders in a place that was supposed to feel like home.

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That night, Hyeongjun lay in his bed, scrolling through old X1 videos:

• Dongpyo laughing so hard he fell over.
• Seungwoo ruffling his hair before a recording.
• Minhee snoring on the couch, Junho and Eunsang drawing on his arms with marker.

He pulled his blanket tighter, the ache in his chest almost physical. It was a sad irony that he was missing X1 members as he had missed Wonjin and Jungmo after Produce.

In the bunk above, Minhee couldn’t sleep either, staring at the ceiling, hearing the ghost of Wooseok’s laughter, the calm of Seungwoo’s quiet leadership, the reckless encouragement of Seungyoun’s grin.

They had chosen this.

It was their dream.

But dreams were harder to live in reality.

The next morning, Minhee slipped out to call Wooseok, standing in the stairwell.

“Hyung,” he started, voice low, “it’s… harder than I thought.”

Wooseok listened quietly, then said:

“It’s okay that it’s hard. It’s okay to feel like you’re starting over. But you’re Minhee, you know? You’ll find your place.”

Later, Hyeongjun texted Seungwoo, who called him back immediately, voice warm and steady:

“You’re not alone, pup,” Seungwoo said softly. “Talk to them. Don’t let it stay inside.”

Seungyoun’s message arrived a moment later: “You build it together. That’s how a real group works.”

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They sat in a circle on the practice room floor, backs against the mirrors, water bottles sweating between their hands, exhaustion buzzing in their limbs from another long day.

Hyeongjun glanced at Minhee, who gave a small nod.

“We wanted to talk,” Hyeongjun said softly, looking around the circle.

Minhee cleared his throat, his voice low but steady.

“We know this is hard. That us coming in… changes things.”

“We don’t want to feel like outsiders,” Hyeongjun added, his fingers twisting around the cap of his water bottle. “We want to be… part of this. But we also don’t want to force ourselves into something that’s already yours or to disrupt what you already build.”

Silence hummed for a moment, and then Serim lifted his head, looking around.

“Cravity was built while waiting for you,” Serim said. “We knew you would come. We just didn’t know how to prepare for it, or how to make it easy.”

« But it was not just for you guys and if we want to move forward, Cravity must become something  for all of us whether we are 7 or 9 » declare Minhee, his voice strong for once.

« So what do you want cravity to be ? What do you want to be ? «  asked Hyeongjun almost tentatively.

Allen exhaled, rolling his shoulders.

“It’s not about formations, or positions. I just want Cravity to be a place we can all feel like we belong.”

Seongmin, the youngest, raised his hand slightly, shy.

“I want it to be… a place where we can laugh, even when it’s hard.”

Wonjin grinned, wiping sweat from his neck.

“I want us to trust each other. Like, really trust. So even when we fight, we know it doesn’t change that we’re family.”

Taeyoung threw his arms wide.

“And to be the craziest, happiest group out there!”

Laughter bubbled up, easing the tension.

Minhee took a breath, letting the warmth of their words settle.

“I want to be someone you can count on. Even if I’m quiet, I want to be someone you can lean on.”

Hyeongjun’s eyes glistened, but he didn’t look away.

“I want Cravity to be the place I can come back to when everything else feels scary.”

Jungmo, who had been quiet, leaned over to ruffle Minhee’s hair.

“You’ve always been that, you idiot.”

Woobin smiled, nodding.

“You’re one of us. Both of you are.”

They shared stories then—tiny pieces of themselves:

Allen talking about the pressure of getting choreography perfect.

Taeyoung laughing about the time he tripped mid-stage and Serim caught him, before both of them crashed to the floor.

Jungmo admitting he sometimes gets lonely even in a full room.

Seongmin sharing how he calls his mom after every performance.

Minhee talking about hiding snacks for the members in X1 because they all eat his favourites.

Hyeongjun sharing how he used to dance alone in the dark practice room when he was scared about debut.

Wonjin wiped at his eyes, laughing.

“Man, we’re really soft, huh?”

“That’s what makes us strong,” Serim said, smiling.

___________________________________________

The conversation drifted into easy chatter, laughter starting to fill the space.

When practice resumed the next day, the air was different.

Hyeongjun found himself standing beside Allen as they adjusted counts, offering a small suggestion mid-run.

“Try this?” Hyeongjun asked.

Allen tried it, blinking, then grinned.

“Nice” Allen said, slapping Hyeongjun’s hand.

“You have other cool ideas to add” he continue.

“Yes but let’s do it together ” he said, scooting closer. “Let me help, Allen hyung.”

Allen’s eyes widened a fraction, before he let out a small, genuine laugh.

“Then you’re in charge of yelling at us when we mess up.”

“Deal,” Hyeongjun grinned, holding out his hand. Allen shook it firmly.

Minhee lingered after practice, watching Woobin hum a melody under his breath, Wonjin tapping a pencil against his water bottle in rhythm of an instrumental track playing from his phone.

“Need a low harmony?” Minhee asked, voice casual.

They looked up, surprised, then nodded.

Minhee hummed softly, his low voice blending into the instrumental, layering and adding warmth.

Wonjin watched, eyes wide, then grinned, nudging Woobin.

“We’re good, huh?”

“Yeah,” Woobin said, smiling, eyes bright

The next few weeks became a blur of hard rehearsals, shared snacks, and quiet laughter.

Hyeongjun stepped in with Allen during practice, helping to adjust counts and footwork.

“You’re good at this,” Allen said one day, sweat dripping from his bangs.

“X1 bootcamp,” Hyeongjun replied, winking.

They started working in sync, Allen’s sharp lines blending with Hyeongjun’s fluidity, learning each other’s styles, building trust one formation at a time.

Minhee spent evenings with Woobin and Wonjin in the studio, helping refine melodies, suggesting harmonies, sometimes just humming in the background until something clicked.

Late one night, Woobin pushed back from the keyboard, turning to Minhee.

“You have an ear for this,” he said.

Minhee’s eyes widened, warmth blooming in his chest.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

Wonjin threw an arm around him.

“Told you he’s good.”

One night, after a brutally long practice, Hyeongjun flopped onto the floor, groaning.

“I can’t move,” he whimpered.

“Same,” Seongmin said, face squished into the mat.

“Let’s just live here now,” Allen mumbled, face-down.

Wonjin suddenly let out a loud, fake cry, flailing dramatically.

“WE ARE TOO YOUNG TO DIE LIKE THIS!”

Everyone burst into laughter, the exhaustion making them giddy.

Minhee lay on his back, giggling, while Hyeongjun tried to catch his breath, tears in his eyes.

Jungmo crawled over, shoving Wonjin lightly.

“Shut up before the manager comes in.”

“Let him,” Wonjin shot back, “I’ll drag him down too.”

Laughter roared louder, echoing in the mirrored room, ringing with something real.

In that laughter, in the shared snacks and tired confessions, in the way Allen started asking Hyeongjun’s opinion regularly, in how Woobin grinned when Minhee entered the room, in the stupid jokes and silent understanding—

They began to find it.

Not the Cravity that was.

But the Cravity they would build together.

It wasn’t instant.

Some days were still awkward.

Sometimes, Minhee fell quiet, remembering X1’s chaos.

Sometimes, Hyeongjun’s jokes fell flat, and he would slip away to the bathroom to breathe.

But every day, they tried again.

And every day, the walls came down a little more.

Every shared laugh, every stupid inside joke shouted during water breaks, every small encouragement yelled across the dance floor—

They were weaving themselves into the fabric of Cravity.

A new Cravity, made together, for all of them.

Chapter Text

“Freedom without witness feels like drifting. But even apart, they are still watching, still holding each other up.”

|SEUNGYOUN|

At first, Seungyoun was on fire.

The moment he stepped into the studio—his studio, no schedules, no deadlines, no team constraints—he felt alive.

He scribbled lyrics on scraps of napkins, layered beats late into the night, let his voice shift between rasp and velvet, throwing himself into rock, R&B, and rap with reckless joy.

He spent days alone in his studio, weaving guitar riffs into heavy bass, layering synth lines, recording raw vocals, scratching them out, trying again.

He didn't miss the constraint and noises of being with X1.

Not the endless meetings.

Not the quiet moments waiting for approval.

Not even the group chat pings.

For a week, Seungyoun thrived on the buzz of his own chaos.

Every idea felt electric.

Until he sat back, blinking at the dozens of tracks blinking on his screen.

Too many ideas. Too many directions.

What does he want to be ? A rocker? An R&B artist? A rapper? A performer? A singer-songwriter?

He didn’t know anymore.

______________________________________

The silence of the studio pressed in.

A pause after he finished a demo, looking up at the empty studio, waiting for laughter that wouldn’t come, waiting for Minhee’s sleepy “Hyung, that’s fire,” for Hangyul’s loud claps, for Hyeongjun’s excited dance when the beat dropped.

He played a track back, frowning, unable to tell if it was good enough.

The silence pressed heavy against the glass of the mixing booth.

So focused and lost at the same time, he found himself not doing anything but music.

He forgot to eat.

Forgot to sleep.

He woke up with his face against the keyboard, the outlines of keys pressed into his cheek, the clock blinking 4:27 a.m.

The next day, as he slouched in his chair, eyes red, reworking the same chorus for the 7th time, Wooseok’s call came.

“Hyung, send me a snippet.”

“In a bit,” Seungyoun mumbled.

“When did you last sleep?” the tone was accusing, suspicious.

Seungyoun rubbed his eyes.

“Dunno.”

“When did you eat?”

Seungyoun blinked at the empty ramen cups stacked by the trash.

“...Dunno.”

Wooseok sighed, a mix of fondness and exasperation in his voice.

“I’ll nag you from a distance, hyung, if that’s what it takes.”

“I just—there’s so much I want to do, but I don’t know which idea is right,” Seungyoun admitted, voice small.

“You don’t have to know right away,” Wooseok said. “You’re Seungyoun. You find your sound by living it. And if you need help we are here for you”

The words settled into the room like a promise.

That night, Seungyoun cooked himself rice in a small kitchen in his agency, opened the window, and let himself rest, realizing that even in freedom, he didn’t have to go it alone.

He gathered his courage and then sent a rough clip on the X1 conversation.

Seconds later, the phone rang.

“Hyung, it’s good,” Wooseok’s voice came, bright and teasing. “But that pre-chorus? Needs more bite.

Seungyoun laughed, a genuine, cracked laugh that made his shoulders drop.

“Yeah. I think I need that.”

“Good. Now get back to eating. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Wooseok said, and Seungyoun could hear the grin in his voice.

He felt a little less empty after that.

|DONGPYO|

Dongpyo walked into his agency’s meeting room, his notebook clutched against his chest, excitement buzzing under his skin.

He had worked late into the night crafting a concept—bright, dance-heavy, but with emotional depth that would showcase who he was now, not just the bright trainee they remembered.

As he presented, the producers nodded, but their eyes slid over him, past him.

“Cute, Dongpyo-ya,” one said.

“Very you,” another added, flipping to the next page.

They liked it, but they didn’t hear it.

When he suggested a sharper dance break, a moment of vulnerability in the bridge, they shook their heads gently.

“That’s too mature, too nuanced for your age.” they said.

“Keep it fresh and young,” they said.

“The choreography is too difficult. Keep it simpler, more fresh.”

His heart sank as he bowed, the rejection pressing against his ribs like a bruise.

Dongpyo bowed, the frustration like a stone in his throat.

They saw the child.

Not the artist he had to become.

__________________________________

That night, he called Seungwoo, his voice shaking.

“Hyung… I don’t know what to do.”

There was a pause, the quiet hum of Seungwoo’s breathing.

“Dongpyo-ya, you’re stronger than you know,” Seungwoo said softly. “They don’t get to decide who you are. Remind them. Show them.”

“But I’m alone.”

“No, you’re not.”

Hangyul’s voice popped in from the background.

“Hey! Baby chick! You better stomp that dance floor tomorrow! Let them know who you are!”

Dongpyo burst out laughing, tears slipping down his face, his grip on the phone tight.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

The next day, he went to the practice room alone, replaying the demo he’d reworked.

“Too difficult.”

He performed it anyway, every sharp angle of his dance precise, every expression capturing the emotion he wanted.

When he finished, chest heaving, he stared at the mirror, sweat dripping down his face.

“I can do it,” he whispered to himself.

He installed his phone on the mirror and started filming.

That night, as frustration bubbled, he opened Instagram.

“I know what the fans wants” he muttered, eyes narrowing.

He posted a 15-second clip of his choreography with the song, showing the clean lines, the emotional tension, the power.

The video blew up.

Fans flooded the comments:

• “This is so Dongpyo!”
• “We need THIS song like today!”
• “The power in his dance, the feeling—please let him debut with this.”

By morning, hashtags were trending.

___________________________________

His agency called him in.

They were not pleased, but they were also not blind.

“You want this version that badly?” an executive asked.

Dongpyo met their gaze, shoulders squared.

“Yes. Let me show who I am.”

A long silence.

“Fine,” they said finally, with a sigh. “Prove it.”

Dongpyo’s eyes shone.

“I will.”

That night, Dongpyo’s phone lit up.

Seungwoo: “Saw your clip. You’re a storm, kid.”

Yohan : “Keep going, you’re in the right path.”

Eunsang: “So proud, hyung!”

Across the city, Seungyoun lay on his studio floor, smiling as he liked Dongpyo’s post.

“You’re not alone, little star,” he whispered.

And as Dongpyo drifted to sleep, the ache of loneliness was quieter.

____________________________________

They were scattered.

Across studios and practice rooms, under different roofs, with different dreams.

But in the silence, in the spaces between exhaustion and doubt, they found each other—

In a call.
In a message.
In a like on a post.
In the quiet promise:

“You are not alone.”

 “We’re with you.”
“Show them.”
“Be who you are.”

And as summer rolled on, Seungyoun and Dongpyo stood taller, ready to step into the world, their voices steady.

Because X1 was still with them.

No matter where they went.

Chapter Text

“Coming home isn’t always returning. Sometimes, it’s relearning how to stay.”

When Seungwoo stepped into Victon’s dorm, it smelled the same.

Fabric softener. Spicy ramen. Old wood floors.

Sejun was sprawled on the couch, phone in hand, and Chan was humming from the kitchen.

“Hyung’s home!” Subin shouted, grinning.

Hanse emerged from his room, eyes bright.

“Welcome back, leader.”

Leader.

The word hit Seungwoo in the chest, warm and heavy.

He smiled, dropping his bag, letting the hug pull him in.

But home was not the same.

The mirrors reflected seven figures—something they had longed for.

At first, it was smiles, laughter, clapping each other on the back, Subin hanging off his arm, Sejun squeezing his shoulders, Seungsik’s quiet, firm nod.

But the first practice was a mess of unspoken habits and silent hesitations.

Seungsik started counting them in, but then Seungwoo instinctively took over, calling out corrections, adjusting formations, shifting them out of the lines they’d practiced.

The music stopped.

They looked at each other.

Seungsik’s jaw tightened, just a flicker, before he nodded.

“Let’s try again.”

Seungwoo bit the inside of his cheek, nodding.

They had been six for so long. Seungsik had stepped up, guiding them with calm, steady hands. The members were used to his quiet leadership, his way of making space.

Seungwoo had changed, too.

In X1, leadership meant carrying the weight with bright determination, making decisions quickly, pushing them forward.

Here, it felt like trying to step into old shoes that no longer fit.

________________________________________

Small disagreements started to build.

About tempo.

About harmonies.

About schedules.

Sejun sighed during a vocal practice, rubbing his temple.

“We’re not syncing, hyung.”

Seungwoo opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, the words turning bitter on his tongue.

And as the days passed, the fractures appeared.

Seungsik started warm-ups, but Seungwoo’s instinct to correct lines, to call out beats, slipped in like second nature.

“Left, not right, Sejun—”

“Seungsik, let’s try a sharper cut here—”

Each correction landed like a pebble dropping into water, ripples widening in the silence.

Sejun’s jaw tightened, eyes darting away.

Seungsik pressed his lips together, nodding, but his shoulders stiffened each time Seungwoo stepped in.

They butted heads over setlists, harmonies, formations.

One afternoon, Seungwoo and Seungsik’s voices rose in the practice room over a minor note in the bridge of a new song.

“It doesn’t match the phrasing,” Seungwoo insisted.

“It matches our phrasing, hyung,” Seungsik shot back.

Sejun tried to step in.

“Hyung, let Seungsik lead—”

“Sejun, stay out of it.”

The words slipped, harsh and sharp and absolutely not what he wanted to say.

Sejun’s eyes flashed, hurt, before he turned away.

The silence afterward was heavier than any argument.

That night, Seungwoo lay in his bed, unable to sleep, memories of laughter with Victon clashing with the tension now hanging between them.

The home he had longed for was there.

But it was no longer the same.

And neither was he.

_________________________________________

They met in a small coffee shop near X1's agency. Seungyoun was there, in a cap and hoodie, slurped his iced coffee loudly, watching him.

“You look like crap, hyung.”

Seungwoo huffed a tired laugh.

“Thanks. You’re not better”

Seungyoun giggled but quickly raised an eyebrow.

“Talk.”

Seungwoo’s hands clenched around his cup.

“It’s tearing me apart,” he whispered. “Victon… We are out of synch and every thing is difficult. We are disagreeing about everything and every solution that we try fail. The worst thing is that I even had fights with Seungsik and Sejun. You know they are the one I’ve always have been the closest. I can’t even talk to them anymore. I don’t know what to do. They don’t need me and I don’t know how to find my place in Victon anymore ”

His voice broke as he was trying to swallow tears.

Seungyoun nodded, eyes softening.

“You’ve been carrying everyone for so long, hyung. X1, Victon, even yourself. Maybe it’s time to let go.”

Seungwoo swallowed, the thought terrifying.

“You don’t mean leaving Victon ?”

Seungyoun placed a hand on his arm.

“No but maybe a change of perspective might help”.

_____________________________________

That night, Seungwoo was about to turn off his phone when it buzzed.

Hangyul: “Hyungs, SOS, call now!”

He sighed, hitting accept.

The screen exploded with Dohyon and Hangyul’s chaotic faces, talking over each other.

“The count is off—”

“You’re missing the downbeat—”

“It’s your move that’s sloppy—”

“You’re the sloppy one—”

Minhee, Dongpyo, and Yohan appeared, faces half-asleep.

“What is happening?” Yohan mumbled.

“Drama at midnight, wow,” Minhee snickered.

Seungyoun sipped water, shaking his head.

“You two are ridiculous.”

Hangyul and Dohyon turned to the camera, in unison.

“Hyungs, help.”

They replayed the choreography, bickering as they demonstrated.

Dongpyo started laughing so hard he fell off his bed, Eunsang’s giggles echoing.

Wooseok yelled, “Dohyon you are doing it half count too soon!”

Finally, Dohyon pouted but agreed on the adjustment, bowing dramatically.

“Thank you, X1 Supreme Court,” he sighed.

The laughter faded, replaced by warm silence.

Dongpyo tilted his head, looking at Seungwoo’s quiet face on the screen.

“Hyung, what’s wrong?”

The question slipped through, soft but direct.

Seungwoo hesitated, the others watching.

“It’s… Victon,” he admitted. “I’m messing everything up. I don’t know how to be there and when I try to lead, it mess everything up. I’m lost”

Silence.

Then, quietly, Dohyon spoke.

“Hyung… why do you need to lead?”

Hangyul nodded.

“Victon is strong. Seungsik hyung is strong. Why not just… be an idol there, like the rest of them? You don’t have to carry everything.”

Dongpyo added softly.

“You deserve to just sing and dance and smile too, hyung.”

Seungwoo’s eyes stung, the quiet truth of their words sinking in.

______________________________________

The next morning, Seungwoo asked Victon to gather.

They sat in a circle in the practice room, tense.

Seungwoo bowed deeply.

“I’m sorry. I came back trying to be who I was before, but that’s not who I am anymore. And it’s not what Victon needs. we’ve all changed, and I didn’t see that.”

He looked up at Seungsik.

“Seungsik, you’ve led Victon so well. You’ve built something strong, stronger than when I was here. You should keep leading. Let me just be a member, not your leader.”

Seungsik’s eyes widened, filling with tears.

“Hyung—”

“I want to be here. As a member. As your support. But I don’t need to lead to be part of Victon. Let me just… be me.”

Sejun exhaled, shoulders loosening.

“That’s all we wanted, hyung.”

Seungsik’s eyes glistened as he nodded.

“Then let’s do it together. As seven.”

They practiced that day, Seungsik leading, Seungwoo following, letting himself smile when Sejun teased him, letting himself relax when Subin cheered.

The music felt lighter.

So did he.

He wasn’t leading.

He was part of them.

And it was all that matter.

That night, as he lay in bed, Seungwoo’s phone lit up.

Seungyoun: “How’s home?”

Seungwoo smiled, replying:

“Home is home again.”

Chapter Text

“Even if the world feels heavy, we can still choose to smile.”

August finished in with late-summer heat, cicadas humming as the members prepared a special promise.

“It’s been three years,” Seungwoo whispered during a dorm meeting, his voice warm. “let’s give them back what they gave us.”

On August 27, for the group 3rd birthday, X1 released : “Hold My Hand: Thousand Voices.”

The track’s familiar melody now carried the layered chorus of their fans, recorded during their world tour, from Seoul to Santiago, Tokyo to Amsterdam. Voices in dozens of languages wove together in a patchwork of love and promise. Hundreds of clips, chants, and harmonies woven into the final mix.

The announcement itself was a quiet drop at midnight, accompanied by a simple tweet:

“For you, who held our hands first. Thank you. #HoldMyHandThousandVoices”

The response was immediate and overwhelming:

• Fans trended #X1HoldMyHand worldwide within minutes.
• Reaction videos appeared overnight: Oneits crying, laughing, hugging lightsticks.
• Messages flooded in:

“I can hear myself… I’m crying.”

“Thank you for letting us sing with you.”

“This is what family feels like.”

The members spent that night in the dorm, huddled around the TV as they scrolled through reactions. Junho sniffled quietly while Minhee grinned, teasing :

“Yah, are you crying again?”

“Shut up,” Junho laughed, wiping his tears.

Even Seungyoun, who usually stayed quiet during these moments, murmured:

“They’ve grown with us.”

And as the song’s final chorus echoed, Dongpyo whispered:

“We’ll keep singing, right?”

Seungwoo patted his head, eyes bright:

“Always.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

As August turned to September, the world of K-pop buzzed with one name : X1.

It started with hints :

• A selfie from Seungyoun in the studio, captioned: “Finding my sound.”
• Dongpyo posting a mirror dance practice with the caption: “Bright days ahead.”
• Starship dropping a shadowy teaser with nine silhouettes for Cravity.
• Junho’s agency dropping a still from his drama, eyes bright in the teaser image.

Then, the official posts came one after the other.

Seungyoun first solo mini-album “Orbit” will drop on September 20.

Dongpyo will have his solo debut on September 22 with “Beautiful Day”.

And Cravity will have their first comeback as nine with “Adrenaline” the 29th of September.

At the same time, Junho’s drama was officially confirmed for October with trailers dropping starting the first week of September.

Fans were electrified and their discussions flooded social media.

“X1 September takeover!”
“Dongpyo’s solo… I’m going to cry.”
“Minhee and Hyeongjun in Cravity—it’s really happening.”
“Seungyoun finally going wild with his sound!”
“Junho’s acting debut!!!”

The entertainment press followed with multiples articles :

“X1 Members Prepare for Massive September Return.”
“From Group to Individual: X1’s Diverse Paths.”
“September is X1’s Month.”

The anticipation became its own wave, fans preparing lightsticks, banners, and hashtag projects for each member.

The members cheered each other in the group chat, dropping teasing selfies from studios and practice rooms:

“Recording done!!” – Seungyoun, with a thumbs up.
“Look forward to it!!” – Dongpyo, face flushed after a dance practice.
“It’s happening…!!” – Hyeongjun, blurry selfie with Minhee and Wonjin making peace signs behind him.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

On September 20, Seungyoun’s mini-album dropped, headlined by “Orbit.”

It was a vibrant, layered track fusing synth-rock, bass-heavy drops, and Seungyoun’s powerful vocals. The lyrics spoke of finding freedom and spinning into your own path, refusing to be anchored.

The MV featured rooftop shots, night cityscapes, and Seungyoun dancing under neon constellations, every frame dripping with his colour.

“This is everything I wanted to do,” he confessed to Seungwoo in a call the night before release. “I’m terrified… but it’s me.”

The world responded with open arms. #SeungyounOrbit trended worldwide on X, the MV had 7 million views in 24 hour. 

More than the fans, even the critics praised it, admiring “Seungyoun’s unique voice.” and commitment to show his own musical identity. 

Yet behind the scenes, Seungyoun felt the weight:

“It’s weird without you all,” he confessed during a group call.

“I’m proud of you,” Wooseok said, smirking. “But hyung… did you skip sleep once more?”

“And when did you last ate ?,” Seungwoo added.

“Shut up,” Seungyoun laughed, but promised he was getting better at taking care of himself.

When he won his first music show trophy, Seungyoun held the mic, eyes glistening:

“To my X1 brothers… thank you for letting me find my orbit.”

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

On September 22, Dongpyo stepped onto the stage for his solo debut single : “Beautiful Day.”

The song was a bright pop-dance track about choosing optimism despite difficulties.

The MV showcased Dongpyo’s storytelling with a clear storyline. 

Dongpyo encountering misfortunes : Missing his alarm, burning breakfast, missing the bus, getting caught in the rain. But despite each setback showed his initial frustration, but each time, he chose to smile. And at the end, the clouds finally parted as the sun rose, letting Dongpyo dance in puddles with laughter, radiating hope.

When he performed it live, the audience felt the sincerity in every movement.

“I want them to know they can choose hope even in difficult times.” Dongpyo said in an interview.

The agency, initially sceptical of the nuanced choreography, was proven wrong : the fans loved it and the clip of Dongpyo dancing under fake rain with a bright grin went viral.

When Dongpyo won his first music show, he was tackled backstage by Minhee, Hyeongjun, and Eunsang, joined by Seungyoun still in his Orbit stage outfit.

“You did it, Sunshine!” Hyeongjun yelled.
“You’re amazing. ” Seungyoun said, pulling him into a hug.
“We’re so proud of you.” Minhee added, ruffling his hair.

Dongpyo, holding the trophy with trembling hands, whispered:

“Thank you for believing I could shine.”

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

At the end of September, Cravity came back as nine, Minhee and Hyeongjun finally joining as official members with “Adrenaline”.

The concept was bright and high-school themed with varsity jackets, skateboards and classroom chaos. The song featured a bright song, energic choreography and a brilliant dance breaks with Minhee and Hyeongjun front and centre.

For Minhee and Hyeongjun, the first week was overwhelming:

“It’s weird not having you next to me on stage,” Minhee texted Wooseok before their first music show.

But the cheers of fans chanting “Hyeongjun! Minhee!” erased the nerves.

And when Cravity won, Wonjin wrapped an arm around Hyeongjun, and Jungmo hugged Minhee from behind. “Welcome home,” Jungmo whispered.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

All three comebacks—Orbit, Beautiful Day, and Adrenaline—competed with each other and won music shows, each trophy a testament to the strength of their paths.

The fandom celebrated:

“X1 is unstoppable.”
“They’re proving themselves individually, but you can see the X1 bond in every stage.”
“So proud to be a OneIt.”

In a rare free evening, Seungwoo messaged:

“You’ve all grown so much. I’m so proud.”

Dongpyo replied, a selfie with his trophy:

“Still X1, always.”

Minhee sent:

“Let’s keep going.”

And Seungyoun simply:

“We’re rising.”

As September closed, autumn winds swept in, carrying the promise of change. They were idols, performers, actors, dancers, and musicians, each chasing their own dreams.

Yet through every step, every solo stage, and every new adventure, one truth remained:

They were still family.

And the world, once more, rose with them.

Chapter Text

“Even in separate lights, we are never alone.”

The crisp scent of October filled the air as Victon prepared for their first comeback as seven in years.

This time, it was different.

Seungsik stood at the front of the practice room, voice firm but kind, leading warm ups with calm authority. Seungwoo, leaning against the mirror, hummed along quietly, joining in only when needed, his eyes warm as he watched Seungsik step fully into his role.

“I’ve got this, hyung,” Seungsik said one evening as they closed practice, offering Seungwoo a bottle of water.

Seungwoo smiled, a quiet, genuine curve of his lips.

“I know. I’m here to support you.”

Rehearsals were smoother than before, laughter replacing tension, small mistakes followed by teasing instead of sharp silences. Sejun cracked jokes, Chan added subtle harmonies, and Byungchan flicked Seungwoo’s ear whenever he zoned out.

On the day of the comeback stage, they lined up backstage, mics in hand, hearts pounding. Seungwoo looked at his members—his family—and felt the weight lift.

The lights rose, music pulsed, and Victon moved as one, their voices weaving together effortlessly, choreography tight, energy vibrant.

The fans cheered louder than ever, their chants echoing in the venue:

“VICTON! VICTON!”

Articles praised their performance:

“Victon returns stronger and more united.”
“The warmth of seven.”

Afterward, Seungwoo texted the X1 group chat, attaching a blurry backstage selfie:

“We did it. Thank you for believing in me.”

Dongpyo spammed heart stickers. Hyeongjun sent a voice note screaming, “HYUNG!! SO PROUD!!” Seungyoun replied:

“You looked like you were home, hyung.”

And Seungwoo realized, quietly, that he truly was.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Mid-October saw Eunsang’s solo debut “Starlit Path” bloom softly into the world.

His song, a warm, airy pop track, showcased his gentle vocals and subtle emotional delivery, the kind that made listeners pause and breathe.

The MV was simple : Eunsang walking through streets bathed in the silver light of the moon, stopping to smile at small moments—a cat in a window, a child’s laughter, a breeze catching his hair.

Fans fell for him all over again:

“Eunsang’s voice feels like a comforting hug.”
“His smile could light up the world.”

On his first music show stage, Eunsang’s hands trembled slightly as he held the mic, scanning the crowd until he caught sight of Dongpyo, peeking from backstage with a wide grin, waving frantically.

“You’ve got this!” Dongpyo mouthed.

Eunsang took a breath, lifted his chin, and sang, his voice steady, the light catching the edges of a dream he was finally holding.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

October’s end brought the explosive debut of Hangyul and Dohyon as H&D with “Ignite”.

Their title track was a slick, bass-heavy dance song that allowed Hangyul’s sharp movements and Dohyon’s powerful rap to take centre stage.

They spent nights perfecting formations, arguing over tiny details until they dissolve into laughter, rolling across the practice room floor.

Dohyon often looked around, expecting Eunsang’s quiet nod or Seungyoun’s suggestions. Hangyul sometimes sighed, missing the way Dongpyo would push him to refine choreographies with bursts of energy.

“Hyung, you’re off by half a beat,” Dohyon teased, flicking Hangyul’s forehead.

“Yeah? Let’s see you hit that high note, genius,” Hangyul shot back.

Their debut stage was electric, the crowd’s screams vibrating under their feet as they performed with infectious energy, synchronizing years of dreams into three minutes of fire.

Fans erupted:

“H&D is the unit we didn’t know we needed.”
“Their chemistry is unreal.”

Backstage, Dohyon dropped onto a chair, exhausted, while Hangyul handed him a water bottle, ruffling his hair with a grin:

“We did it, kid.”

Dohyon only managed a breathless smile, but it was enough.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Yohan and Wooseok were both deep in preparation for their November comeback, balancing it with solo schedules and brand shoots.

They often texted each other:

Yohan: “Hyung, I’m dead from dance practice.”
Wooseok: “Same. Want to sneak away for coffee?”

They didn’t always manage, but one rainy evening, they slipped out to a convenience store, huddled under one umbrella, laughing like trainees again.

Meanwhile, Dongpyo filmed for his follow-up stages, preparing fan contents, and throwing himself into dance practice. He felt the loneliness keenly when breaks came, and there was no Minhee to poke his side, no Hyeongjun to drag him to eat, no Seungwoo watching quietly in the mirror.

In Junho case, he was deep into drama filming, long hours on set leaving him tired but proud, missing the instant warmth of X1’s chaotic dorm life.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Preparation for X1’s December album continued, but it was nothing like before, no longer filled with the laughter of all eleven in one room.

Instead of eleven bodies in one room, laughter echoing between walls, it was all separated snippets of the group. 

Wooseok, Seungyoun, and Dohyon in a studio of TOP Media after Up10tion practice invited by the first one.

Seungyoun half-asleep while mixing vocals alone in his little room.

Dongpyo alone in his agency’s practice room, filming dance ideas for the new title track, sending them to Hangyul late at night who responded with “Perfect!” even when he was exhausted.

Eunsang and Junho meeting quietly in a café, discussing lyric ideas on napkins and notebooks.

Minhee and Hyeongjun practicing harmonies together in Cravity’s studio after their schedules, still sweaty and in dance clothes.

Seungwoo offering small notes on lyrics during breaks in Victon’s schedule, sometimes in the middle of the night or at lunch time, when it was the only break he could find. .

Sometimes, it was just one of them alone, staring at the mirror or their laptop, hearing an echo where once there was laughter.

It worked.

But it was lonely.

In the middle of a session, Seungyoun often found himself staring at an empty chair, remembering how Yohan would joke about coffee runs, or how Seungwoo would quietly nod along while listening to demos.

Dongpyo, mid-choreography, would pause, expecting Hangyul’s teasing or Minhee’s soft laughter, but the room felt too large.

They missed each other, but the world moved fast, and they moved with it.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Despite busy schedules, they stole moments wherever they could.

Dongpyo once rushed to Eunsang’s practice room with drinks, only to slip on the floor, soda cans rolling everywhere as they burst out laughing.

Minhee and Hyeongjun tried to visit Seungyoun’s studio but got lost, arriving two hours late to a Cravity rehearsal with sheepish grins.

Hangyul and Dohyon crashed a Victon dance practice, dropping off coffee and taking a quick selfie before Seungsik scolded them for being loud.

Junho, after a long day of acting practice, found himself alone in a empty room, recording vocals for the upcoming X1 album on his phone, sending the file to Seungwoo with the caption : “Hope this fits.”

In a Starship practice room, Minhee and Hyeongjun were working on Cravity choreo when they called Dongpyo to demonstrate a move, resulting in Dongpyo screaming through the phone, “AGAIN! BUT CLEANER!” before laughing so hard he fell over.

They reaffirmed their bound as often as hey could:

Doing each other’s dance challenges on TikTok, tagging each other with laughing emojis and sometimes doing them together when their schedule allowed it.

They are clinging to each other backstage when their schedules overlapped, slipping snacks into each other’s bags, taking selfies they would post with captions like: “Found my lost brother  #X1”

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, they would all pile into a video call, faces sleepy, hair messy:

“How’s the album coming along?” Seungwoo would ask.
“Hyung, your stage is killing me, you look so cool!” Dongpyo would exclaim.
“Minhee, you’re still with us ?” Seungyoun teased when he yawned for the fifth time.

Even as they laughed, even as their separate lives moved forward, they felt it:

The ache of missing each other.

They were learning to stand on their own while holding onto each other.

And as October faded into the crisp promise of November, the promise of their December reunion album glowed like a lighthouse in the dark.

They would return. Together. As X1.

Chapter Text

“Flying high takes strength. Staying in the sky takes everything.”

November opened brightly with Yohan’s long-awaited solo debut, a sleek, R&B-infused track called “Echoes.” His warm vocals layered over crisp beats pulled listeners in. The MV saw Yohan walking and singing alone under changing city lights, quietly powerful. The beautiful imagery coupled with the song, captured hearts immediately.

The first stage was nerve-wracking; Yohan’s hands shook lightly as he adjusted his in-ear, scanning the crowd. Then he caught sight of Seungwoo and Seungyoun backstage, grinning, making goofy thumbs-ups. His eyes crinkled, his fear dissolving in a flash of gratitude.

Wooseok, in the meantime, returned with Up10tion, their comeback energetic, vocals strong, but a step below the explosive wave of the other X1-related promotions. Even so, Wooseok’s presence was magnetic, the stability of years in the industry and re enforced by X1 success clear in the way he moved, led, comforted members who were nervous.

After their first stage, Wooseok leaned against the backstage wall, phone buzzing with X1 messages:

Hyeongjun: “HYUNG YOU WERE SO COOL !!!”
Dongpyo: “You better teach me those adlibs.”
Minhee: “I took notes.”
Wooseok: “I’m charging you all for lessons.”

November continued a Kpop landscape where X1’s name glowed everywhere, inescapable even without the group together.

Dongpyo’s Beautiful Day, Seungyoun’s Orbit, Eunsang’s Starlit Path, H&D’s Ignite, Yohan’s Echoes, Minhee and Hyeongjun’s Adrenaline with Cravity, Wooseok with Up10tion, and Victon’s smooth return where success one after the other, not letting the group be forgotten. Every week, every charts were marked with the fingerprints of X1.

No one could ignore it. In their articles, journalists noted:

“An unprecedented sweep for a survival group turned phenomenon.”

“Even apart, X1 continues to dominate, with only titans like Blackpink, NCT, Stray Kids, and Red Velvet managing to share the stage.”

“Younger 4th-gen groups, despite strong showings, struggled to break the momentum.”

Fans saw it also and posted on social media:

“When will they rest?”

“They’ve rewritten what it means to be a survival group.”

The members noticed too, in the quiet moments between stages, exhaustion seeping into gratitude.

Wooseok whispered to Seungwoo after a long day:

“Hyung, we’re making history. But at what cost?”

Seungwoo only nodded, unable to deny the truth.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

They had a momentum never seen before and they were not going to stop.

On a quiet Sunday evening, X1’s official accounts posted a single image:

A sleek, dark background, metallic purple lines cutting across like comet trails, forming eleven converging points. At the centre:
“GLINT – X1, December 7.”

Below it:

“Leave your burdens behind. Come  with us under the lights.”

The teaser was elegant, mature, a promise that this comeback would be different—more adult, yet soft, a reminder that togetherness could heal.

The internet erupted.

#X1GLINT trended worldwide in minutes.
“They’re back!”
“This is what we waited for.”
“Let them have everything.”

The members watched the live reactions in separate dressing rooms, practice rooms, taxis between schedules, their group chat lighting up:

Dongpyo, grinning, whispered, “One more time.”

Hyeongjun, tears pricking, typed in the chat, “We have to do this right.”

Seungyoun simply sent: “Let’s give them everything.”

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

But under the glow of success, the weight grew heavier.

The promise of Glint meant practice rooms stayed lit past midnight.

Schedules doubled:

• Morning solo promotions.
• Afternoon X1 vocal and choreo rehearsals.
• Evening agency meetings.
• Night dance practices.

Sleep was a rarity, meals skipped or replaced with energy drinks. Laughter still existed—tired, cracked around the edges—but eyes were dimmer, bodies slower to rise from the floor after run-throughs.

Seungyoun’s hands trembled as he adjusted the soundboard, eyes rimmed red from sleepless nights of producing. Dohyon dozed against a wall, headphones still in.

Wooseok noticed first, the same way he always did. Watching from across the practice room as Seungyoun’s shoulders drooped, as Dohyon’s eyelids fluttered mid-sentence, as Dongpyo’s bright smile wavered when he thought no one saw. Hangyul iced his back between runs. Yohan coughed into his sleeve during water breaks. Hyeongjun nursed bruises on his knees, hiding the winces behind a forced grin.

“Hyung,” he whispered to Seungwoo as they prepared water bottles before practice, “this is worst than last time. We’re not bending, we’re breaking.”

Seungwoo rubbed his eyes, exhaustion lining every word:

“I know. But we can’t stop. We still have so much to do. ”

Wooseok felt it too: a disaster was unavoidable. It was there just around the corner.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

It happened on a Tuesday night.

They were practicing late the intricate formations for Glint’s climax, everyone moving on muscle memory alone, music pounding too loud in their skulls.

Hangyul fighting dizziness from dehydration and  pushing himself past the ache in his back, missed a beat, miscalculated his spin, colliding hard with Minhee, who was stepping back into position..

A sharp collision.
A gut-wrenching cry.
A heavy, sickening thud.

Time stopped.

Minhee’s body hit the floor with a thud, the music cutting off in the scream of a dropped phone.

Hyeongjun was the first to reach him, shaking hands hovering:

“Hyung, hyung, breathe, please—”

Minhee’s face was white, twisted in pain, clutching his knee, tears flowing even if he tried to hold them back.

“It—it hurts—!”

Hangyul staggered back, eyes wide, chest heaving as he realized:

“I—I did—I’m sorry—Minhee—I’m so sorry—”

Seungwoo shouted for staff, Seungyoun held Minhee’s shoulders, trying to keep him still as he sobbed in pain.

In the chaos, Dongpyo held Hangyul, who was hyperventilating, whispering:

“It was an accident hyung. Breathe. We need you.”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

The hospital was cold, sterile, silent.

Severe sprain. Strained ligaments. No weight-bearing for 2 weeks. No dancing or intense activity for at least 2 months.

Minhee stared at the floor, the words echoing.

Two months. Their comeback, their end-of-year shows. Cravity’s schedules.

Gone.

He bit his lip, shaking, eyes welling up. He breathed for a bit before rising his head.

Minhee looked at them, at their devastated faces, and forced a smile:

“Hey. It’s just a knee.”

Hyeongjun’s tears slipped down anyway:

“You were crying, hyung.”

Minhee’s lips trembled:

“It hurt like hell.”

And then he laughed, watery and real.

Hangyul couldn’t look at him, guilt tearing him apart, tears falling quietly.

“It’s my fault. I should have—”

Minhee reached out, poking his shoulder:

“You’re buying me food for a month, that’s your punishment.”

Hangyul let out a choked laugh, collapsing into Minhee’s good side for a hug.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

Minhee was confined to a brace, crutches at his side, forbidden from standing without support. The silence in the practice room was suffocating the next day.

The injury shook them.

The older members were lost in their guilt. Seungwoo blamed himself for not forcing a break. Seungyoun wondered if he should have slowed the practice. Wooseok stayed up, worrying, checking on everyone.

But Minhee, lying on the couch in his dorm with his leg in a brace, texted them :

“We’ll figure this out.”

Dongpyo dropped his phone, clapping his hands once :

“Alright. We’re not giving up.”

Hyeongjun wiped his tears:

“We’ll find a way to keep him with us.”

And so they did. 

Hyeongjun and Donpyo decided to redesign the formations with Minhee seated in mind  or planning him using minimal movements. They created moments where he could sing his parts without moving while the others danced.

Their project finished, they filmed it and happily send the videos of the practice to Minhee. He responded from dorm with thumbs-ups and quiet tears.

Cravity’s management agreed to adjust their stages. The members of X1 agreed they would carry Minhee until he could stand again.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

Two days later, a carefully worded statement was posted on X1 and Cravity’s official channels:

 “During a recent practice session, Minhee sustained an injury to his knee. After medical examination, he is currently receiving treatment and resting as advised. In respect of Minhee’s strong desire to continue, he will participate in upcoming promotions in a limited capacity while prioritizing his recovery. We thank you for your understanding and continued support.”

Minhee chose a photo for the post himself—a soft selfie, a peace sign raised, his smile tired but determined.

Shortly after, he sent a message on Bubble : “Don’t worry too much, I’m getting treatment and I’ll be careful ! I still want to be with you all, so let’s meet soon ”

The fandom’s reaction was swift and intense.

Most OneIts and Luvitys flooded social media with love:

“Please take care, Minhee.”
“Your health comes first.”
“We’ll wait for you.”

Projects with blue ribbons reading “For Minhee’s Recovery” spread quickly, and hashtags like #GetWellMinhee trended.

Yet under the waves of support came quiet concerns:

“Is it really necessary for him to promote now?”
“I wish the company would let him rest fully.”
“Health should be the priority.”

That night, the members read through the comments in their dorm’s living room, the city’s glow washing over them.

Minhee scrolled quietly, then looked up:

“They’re right, too.”

Hyeongjun, curled next to him, whispered:

“But it’s your decision, hyung.”

Seungwoo, standing with Wooseok by the window, spoke gently:

“If it gets too hard, even for a day, tell us.”

Minhee’s eyes glistened but he nodded, resolute:

“I want to be there with you all. That’s what matters to me.”

He would join them on stage, seated if needed, limited but present, proving that even in hardship, X1 would stand together, unshaken, one constellation.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

But as they moved forward, the toll of the year, the weight of success, and the fear of their limits settled heavily in their bones.

Yet with every exhausted glance, every small smile, every whispered “We’re okay” in the dark, they held onto each other.

Because even when the stars burned too bright, they still are a constellation, together.

Chapter Text

“We thought we had to keep burning to shine, but sometimes, it’s enough to glow.”

At midnight, the world collectively held its breath as “Glint” dropped.

The MV opened in a stifling, lavish ballroom, the members in sleek black suits, tension thrumming under the low hum of violins and ticking clocks. They danced in precise, restrained steps, eyes flicking toward the ceiling as if looking for freedom.

Suddenly, the beat shifted.

They bolted for the rooftop, the camera following in dizzying spins, doors bursting open into the rain, neon city lights reflecting in puddles. Jackets were thrown off, ties loosened, hair plastered to their foreheads, eyes bright.

They danced under the rain, bodies close, hands brushing shoulders and chests as choreography turned fluid, sensual under moonlight and storm, water splashing at their feet, smiles breaking through the mist.

Minhee appeared seated on a railing, hand out to catch the rain, singing softly, eyes burning with the same quiet power as the others.

The paired B-side, “Midnight Bloom,” layered rich synths and pulsing bass with a subtle undercurrent of sensuality, lyrics weaving metaphors of flowers blooming at midnight, hidden desires finding light, the warmth of connection after darkness.

Fans were captivated.

“X1’s maturity is unreal.”
“Minhee in the rain, I’m crying.”
“They’re sensual without losing their elegance.”
“This is grown X1, and I’m here for it.”

Streams and sales surged, matching Rise’s numbers effortlessly, showing X1’s stability even after fragmented months.

Their first comeback stage was magnetic:

The performance opened with the members seated on sleek black chairs, spotlights flickering in time with the heartbeat bass.

Jackets slipped off shoulders mid-chorus, revealing dark satin shirts, choreography weaving close contact, restrained tension giving way to bursts of freedom.

Rain sounds and light projections created a rooftop illusion during the bridge, Minhee elevated on a platform, singing softly with the others circling him in synchrony.

During Midnight Bloom, the choreography was smoother, emphasizing touch—hands brushing arms, heads tilted back as lights dimmed, voices blending in the final chorus, soft smiles shared between members.

Minhee’s adapted choreography allowed him to move only slightly and to also stay seated, focusing on expressive gestures and vocals, while the others danced around him, drawing him in without forcing him to move.

Behind the scenes, the members gathered with management.

“We want to slow down,” Seungwoo said, looking each staff member in the eye.

Seungyoun added, “We’ve proven we’re capable. But if we push until we break again, what’s the point?”

There was resistance, the industry’s ever-hungry machine rumbling. But the members stood firm, backed by a fandom that flooded comments with:

“Please let them rest.”

“Their health matters most.”

And so, they negotiated a reduced promotion schedule, protecting their bodies, preserving their light.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

End-of-year stages returned, but this time, they performed less frequently, balancing schedules with solo promotions and other group activities.

But between rehearsals and costume changes, the members found moments to simply be and laugh.

Dongpyo was seen running through a backstage hallway, trailed by Felix and Wooyoung in a game of impromptu tag. Seungyoun was often sharing snacks with Changbin and Han, exchanging music recommendations. Hyeongjun helped Seungwoo adjust his Instagram, laughing as Minhee teased them with a bunny filter for a quick selfie. TXT’s Beomgyu once sneaked up on Yohan for a playful scare, only to be chased down the hallway. Wooseok quietly chatted with BTOB’s Minhyuk, both nodding at each other with the understanding of older idols who had fought to keep going.

They performed less as negociated, but when they did, it was unforgettable.

When X1 stepped onto the MAMA stage, the lights dropped, and a hush fell.

The opening notes of Glint echoed, and rain projections cascaded down the LED screens, shimmering over the stage floor that had been transformed into a reflective black pool. The members, clad in dark velvet with glints of metallic thread, moved with precise grace, the choreography echoing the MV’s sensual restraint—hands brushing, eyes catching, steps sharp but flowing.

As the chorus hit, water jets misted softly, catching the lights in prisms, and the members’ soaked hair clung to their faces, their expressions open and vulnerable.

Minhee stood on a raised platform, singing into the rain, eyes bright, a soft smile breaking through as the members circled him, extending their hands in a wordless promise: together, always.

When the final note faded, the crowd erupted, a standing ovation rolling through the venue, even senior idols standing to clap.

Backstage, Seungwoo leaned back against a wall, dripping, chest heaving.

“We did it,” he whispered, eyes shining.

Seungyoun just laughed, pulling him into a brief, tight hug before Felix and Han of Stray Kids bounded over, hair damp from their own stage, praising them with grins.

“Bro, the rain, the rain,” Han exclaimed, eyes wide.

At SBS Gayo Daejeon, X1 chose a power setlist bringing their explosive energy once more.

They were opening with Flash, the stage ignited with sparks and flame jets, each beat punctuated by pyrotechnics. After they seamlessly transitioned into Phoenix, the screens behind them displayed a blazing sunrise, reds and golds flooding the venue. Finally, Glint took over, the members discarding their jackets mid-stage, revealing sleek black shirts with shimmering gold threads, movements powerful yet smooth.

During the bridge, Minhee walked to the front, raising his mic high, the other members forming a star around him as the lights dimmed except for a single spotlight.

The audience chanted along, their voices rising in unison, creating a wave of sound that washed over the members.

In the waiting room afterward, Soobin of TXT hugged Hyeongjun tightly, both laughing in the adrenaline afterglow, while San and Wooyoung of Ateez high-fived Yohan and Dongpyo, their faces flushed from their own performance.

For  MBC Gayo Daejejeon, X1 decided on Midnight Bloom.

The stage was dressed in deep purples and midnight blues, lights like moonlight glinting across a mist-covered floor. A live string quartet accompanied them, the violins weaving through the synth, creating a haunting beauty that silenced the audience.

The choreography was intimate, hands brushing arms, the members moving in smooth lines around Minhee, who sang while seated on a clear acrylic chair, illuminated softly.

During the final chorus, the members reached out to Minhee, linking hands briefly before turning to face the audience, voices blending in rich harmony.

Tears shimmered in Dongpyo’s eyes, quickly wiped away as they exited, Eunsang squeezing his shoulder, whispering:

“It’s okay. We’re here.”

In the hallways, BTOB’s Eunkwang pulled Seungwoo aside:

“You’ve all grown so much. Be proud.”

But for some of the members, it was also a baptism of fire and their first big performance alone. 

Dongpyo was invited to the MMA awards and performed a colorful version of Beautiful Day with dancers and multi color confetti. His was vibrating from stress until the moment to go on stage, intimidated by the scope of the scene. 

Eunsang performed Starlight Path and an emotional cover of Me after you on a piano. The staging was pure with him, the white piano and some smoke. It was a moment out of time that brought the members to tears in the living room of the hyung dorm. 

But the biggest stage was for Seungyoun who was invited to perform on the first day of the MAMA. Like Eunsang he sang two song starting with a cover of In My Blood from Shawn Mendes before performing Orbit. The stage was huge and the pressure even higher but he was not fully alone with Stray Kids and TXT present. His performance was widely recognized as one of the best of the night with his vocals and stage presence being praised as unreal and without compare. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________

On December 30th, they rented a private room in a cozy Itaewon restaurant, the air thick with grilled meat and laughter.

Victon’s Seungsik and Chan were there, handing Seungwoo a small bottle of craft soju. Wooseok arrived with Up10tion’s Bitto and Kuhn, high-fiving Minhee and Dongpyo.

Cravity’s Jungmo and Wonjin were there, smothering  Hyeongjun in hugs, claiming they missed him to much. Stray Kids’ Han and Felix slipped in, gifting coffee cans and chaos. Ateez’s San and Wooyoung brought a cake, chanting “X1 fighting!”

Hangyul and Dohyon arrived late, dragging a sheepish Eunsang with them, who was still finishing a practice for a new stage. TXT’s Soobin and Beomgyu dragged Yeonjun along, laughing about last-minute award rehearsals. BTOB’s Eunkwang and Minhyuk made a surprise appearance, jokingly calling themselves “the resident hyungs.”

The room overflowed with warmth.

“To surviving 2022!” Yohan toasted, cider splashing.

“To fighting for what we love!” Seungyoun added, raising his cup.

“And to next year, where we rest more, right hyung?” Dongpyo teased Seungwoo, who only sighed with a laugh.

Minhee, in a brace but smiling :

“And to us, who shine no matter what.”

They laughed, they teased, they ate too much spicy chicken, the younger ones forcing the older ones to try absurd filter challenges, capturing memories in shaky phone videos.

They sang “Hold My Hand” softly, arms around each other, voices quiet but steady.

As snow fell quietly outside, Dongpyo leaned against Seungwoo’s shoulder :

“Hyung… we did well, didn’t we?”

Seungwoo ruffled his hair:

“We did. And we will again.”

And as the year ended, the members of X1, surrounded by friends who had become family, felt whole.

They left the restaurant late, huddled in scarves and masks, eleven shadows crossing the street together, small lights under the Seoul glow, ready to face another year.

Together.

Chapter Text

“Even warmth can feel cold when shared through screens. Distance isn’t measured in miles, but in missed moments.”

For once, both of the X1 dorm were full on New Year’s Eve. Every room was claimed, every bed rumpled, the shoe racks overflowing. The usual emptiness of half the members being away was replaced with an almost nostalgic chaos—the kind they hadn’t had in months.

They crammed into the living room of the bigger one (the eldest’s dorm) to celebrate the new year. They had everything they need : blankets piled high, bowls of tteokbokki passed around and most important each other. Someone had smuggled in a ridiculous number of strawberry milk cartons. The TV cycled through year-end concerts on mute while they talked over each other, laughing about old memories and teasing whoever got caught nodding off before midnight.

When the clock struck twelve, they counted down together, arms thrown around shoulders in an awkward, uncoordinated cluster. The cheer was loud enough to rattle the windows.

“Happy new year, ONEIT!” someone shouted into a phone, already filming for the group chat.

They had five full days off after that—precious and rare. Some went home to see family, others stayed in Seoul but disappeared into their own quiet routines. Even then, Wooseok noticed the signs : Seungyoun rubbing at tired eyes no matter how much he claimed to sleep, Dongpyo still carrying his work notebook everywhere. Despite the days off, the work never really stops.

_____________________________________________________________________

By January 6th, they were back in the agency meeting room, snow clinging to their coats. The plan for the year was shown on the big screen : solo schedules, dramas, units and a proposed X1 comeback in spring.

The members exchanged glances. “Spring’s good,” Yohan started, “but if we push it to the end of spring, May perhaps, we can make it better. Give it more time.”

The agencies hesitated but eventually agreed.

With the decision locked in, someone suggested they announce it to the fans right away—but not in the usual stiff “press release” style.

So, two days later, they gathered in the practice room with boxes of random costume pieces. The concept was ridiculous : Seungyoun would play the “royal herald", wearing an old marching band jacket and holding a toy trumpet. The others would parade in one by one dressed like over-the-top storybook heroes : Minhee with a foam sword, Hyeongjun in a cloak made from a blanket, Dongpyo wearing a glittery crown at a crooked angle.

“ONEIT!” Seungyoun bellowed into the toy trumpet between bouts of laughter, “Gather close, for we have news from the kingdom of Eleven!”

They took turns announcing their personal schedules like characters introducing quests in a fantasy game, Yohan dramatically declaring, “I shall wield the mic as your MC,” and Junho proclaiming, “I will venture into the drama lands!”

Finally, they all leaned into the camera, cloaks and props in disarray. “We’ll see you in May. Wait for us.”

The video went live that night, and within minutes the comments were a mix of laughter, screenshots, and heartfelt messages from fans relieved to hear the group promise they were still together.

______________________________________________________________________

But as the dorm emptied again in the following days, the quiet returned. Seungyoun buried himself in his studio, the glow of his monitor the only light in the room some nights. Orbit had been a massive success—maybe too massive. Every beat he made, every lyric he wrote felt like it had to match or surpass it.

One evening, after deleting yet another demo, he called Hongjoong.
“Too many ideas,” Seungyoun muttered into the phone, “and no clue which one’s the right one.”

Hongjoong chuckled. “There’s no right one. Just make the wrong ones until you get to the one that feels like you.”

Later that week, he reached out to Bang Chan, who reminded him to “stop judging before you finish” and Vernon, who simply told him, “Trust your taste. You liked Orbit, right? That’s your bar.”

Dongpyo, meanwhile, was fighting a quieter battle. His agency liked his general style—dance-heavy, bright tracks—but every time he pitched a specific idea, they pushed back. “Too complicated,” they’d say about his choreography. “Too niche,” about his song choice. Despite the success of Beautiful Day, they weren't ready to trust him and his vision and it was frustrating. They were moments where he wished to be with X1 agency, at least there the executive listened to him and trusted him.

He still choose not to let the rejection discourage him. He filled page after page of his notebook anyway, sketching new formations during café breaks and recording snippets of melody on his phone. When they crossed paths in the dorm living room room one rare evening, Hangyul tossed him a bottle of water.

“Still fighting with the agency ? ”

“Still making noise, and not let them decide what my voice is going to be.” Dongpyo answered with a tired smile.

For a few minutes, they sat side by side on the studio floor, the room lit only by the warm glow of the stereo. The world outside was freezing, but here, in the little pockets of stolen time, they could still remind each other why they kept going.

Chapter Text

“When the hours blur and the calendar bleeds, even love begins to sound like an apology whispered through exhaustion.”

The group chat had become a battlefield of red lines.

Every day a manager would post a neat rehearsal schedule, every slot carefully drawn. By night, half of it would be crossed out: filming delays, back-to-back recordings, injury checks. What remained looked like scraps of a plan, a puzzle with missing pieces.

Even their monthly “decompression nights” — the ritual they had held onto since debut, one evening outside the dorms to breathe, to laugh without cameras — began slipping.

February came and, for the first time in over a year, one seat was empty. Junho’s overseas filming dragged him across oceans. His name stayed lit in the group chat, his messages apologetic and laced with exhaustion, but the silence of his absence at that round table made the room feel heavier.

[X1 GC]
Wooseok: “Practice at 3pm tomorrow?”
Yohan: “Can’t. Filming till late.”
Junho: “Drama shoot. Sorry.”
Minhee: “Cravity meeting.”
Seungyoun: “So… 5 of us?”
Dohyon: “Better than 3.”

Seungwoo: “Same café tomorrow night? 8pm.”
Eunsang: “I’ll be there.”
Dongpyo: “Me too.”
Junho: “I’m sorry… schedule clash. I’ll join on call if I can.”
(read by 10)

The words looked small against the screen. For a group built on being together, even one missing was too many.

______________________________________________________

Rehearsals were fragmented echoes of themselves.

Some days, only five or six bodies moved across the mirrors, the rest away on drama sets or tour preparations. The music felt unbalanced, choreography incomplete without the weight of all eleven.

Hyeongjun and Minhee are particularly affected by the busy rhythm as Cravity is soon going on a world tour. It added to the already overwhelming tiredness of both members.

Hyeongjun struggled most with the divide. Cravity’s rehearsals demanded boundless brightness — sharp angles softened into smiles, energy bursting outward. But when he stepped into X1’s practice room, the songs cut deeper, darker, pulling something raw from his chest. Switching between those worlds shredded him slowly.

One night, as the others filed out, Hyeongjun lingered, replaying the same eight counts again and again. His chest burned with fatigue, legs trembling, but he couldn’t stop. He wanted to be both : the light of Cravity and the power of X1, yet in the mirror, he saw someone caught in-between, expression faltering.

“Why can’t I…?” he whispered, voice cracking.

Minhee, waiting quietly by the door, caught the words. He didn’t answer. He knew that same war — the ache in his knee whenever he pushed too hard, the fear that one slip would cost him everything. He stretched longer than he needed to, hiding the ice pack Wooseok had forced on him earlier, pretending he was fine. But in truth, the pain was a shadow he couldn’t shake.

When the music restarted, Minhee joined him, even limping slightly, matching every move. Neither said a word, but their shared silence was louder than any comfort could be.

______________________________________________________

The year had barely begun, but Junho already felt wrung dry.

His drama had catapulted him from supporting roles to centre stage — a youth romance where he wasn’t the side character anymore, but the boy the whole story bent around.

The production team wanted everything: flawless visuals, relentless charm, endless energy. Even when the cameras weren’t rolling, Junho felt like he was still acting, still performing the idea of a lead. His scripts were scribbled with notes, revisions stacked so high his desk vanished under them.

Yohan, meanwhile, was juggling fire.

Between his MC gig, a solo fan-meeting circuit, and filming his own drama, his days blurred into stage lights and cue cards.

The MC role was supposed to be steady, grounding — but the smile plastered across his face each week was beginning to ache.

Alone in the car rides between sets, Yohan replayed his lines, checking whether his voice wavered too much, whether the camera caught the uncertainty he tried so hard to bury.

______________________________________________________

Amid the chaos, the new X1 album began taking shape — not in the studio, but in fragments scattered across devices. Album preparation should have been exciting, but it felt more like chasing ghosts.

Seungyoun tried to anchor the creative process, sending rough beats at 3 a.m. with frantic notes: “Hear me out, what if we push the chorus higher, make it feel like we’re breaking through the dark?”.

Replies trickled in hours later, scattered between filming breaks and exhausted layovers.

Late-night calls crackled with his tired voice, spinning demos through the phone speaker. “Tell me if this beat’s too heavy,” he’d say, looping melodies while half the members were already drifting off to sleep on their dorm beds.

Lyric meetings happened over video calls where connections froze mid-sentence, where half the group was muted because they were in transit, their managers ushering them from set to set.

Concepts were debated not around one table but through endless threads of texts, emojis and hurried voice notes.

It was a strange kind of togetherness — still united, yet spread so thin they felt like they were only touching at the edges.

It wasn’t ideal, but it was all they had.

______________________________________________________

The strain of those heavy schedule and the pull between two dynamics began to show in small ways.

Members missing from variety shoots and empty chairs in photos made the fans whisper about absences.

Laughter on set rang thinner when three or four voices were missing. Still, every time they did manage to gather, even for a fleeting hour, something sparked — a reminder that the eleven of them were still X1, still together even in fragments.

Seungwoo watched it all, quietly : the way Minhee’s smile tightened when his knee ached, the way Hyeongjun’s shoulders slumped after switching from one practice room to another, the way Junho’s voice sounded distant even through the phone speaker.

For the first time, the anchor of X1 wondered how much longer he could hold all their pieces together.

The rhythm was still there, beating faintly, but fractured.

And as February closed, X1 stood on the edge of their May comeback — more scattered than ever, yet still trying to convince themselves and the world they were one.