The moment the lights turn on, the stage blurs into white. The light is bright enough to momentarily blind him, and beneath it, Luka stands holding the microphone with an unbothered face. As the music starts, his body reacts first. He moves naturally to the beat, raises his hand, and smiles toward the audience. Countless lightsticks sway, and voices calling his name surge like waves. It's a familiar sight. He must always be perfect here.

Thanks for coming today!

His voice bursts out brightly, and every movement, down to the way he crinkles his eyes playfully while waving, is as precise as a calculation. Fans laugh and scream louder. As if absorbing that reaction, Luka traverses the stage, making eye contact one by one. From his fingertips to his expression, there are no gaps. To anyone's eyes, he is a beloved idol.

However, while continuing the song, his senses slip for a very brief moment. The sensation of cold sweat brushing his forehead. Reflexively, he tilts his head slightly and brushes back his hair. His fingertips tremble minutely. It's okay, it's not noticeable yet. He catches his breath and smiles again. Bigger, as if nothing is wrong.

His gaze drifts and then stops.

Guest.

Even though there are so many people, they strangely catch his eye. So clearly that he can't avoid them. He knows. He knows that person knows. Everything about what he's hiding and what kind of face he's making on this stage right now.

His heart sinks instantly. He almost misses the beat by half a step but barely catches up. He turns his body as if nothing happened and continues the choreography. His mouth is smiling, but he feels empty inside. His breath gets a little ragged.

I want to run away.

That thought flashes by, but his feet don't stop. He can't stop. Because the moment he stops here, it's over.

Luka reaches out toward the audience again. His hand brushes against someone's, almost touching, and cheers erupt. He smiles even wider to match the sound.

I'll make this a fun day for you!

A bright voice, like someone who knows nothing.

Even in the midst of that, his gaze goes toward them once more. He doesn't look away. He feels like it would be weirder if he avoided them, no, he just... can't look away.

So he smiles even more awkwardly.

Yes, like someone who isn't hiding anything.

Like someone who has nothing wrong.

On this stage, I have to be perfect,

I must... never be caught.