Prep Time
1313 Words
Something about her had cracked through the steel shell he spent years perfecting.
Maybe it was the way she blushed like her heart was made of helium.
Maybe it was how she looked like she meant every ridiculous word she’d ever written.
Or maybe… it was because he saw a little too much of himself in that silence she bled.
Backstage at Shadowlight Arena
The tension had mostly settled now that Ji Lee had exited like a thunderstorm losing steam, and the boys of J.U.N.O were sprawled in various states of disarray.
Eli—now properly socked—was flicking through outfits with visible distress. “Why do all of these scream ethereal bad boy who might kill you? Can’t I just wear pastels one time?”
“You literally insisted on the vampire prince aesthetic,” Jae said while doing pushups between sets, sweat beading on his crimson-red undercut.
“Yeah, like, three comebacks ago,” Eli huffed. “I want my sunshine era.”
“You are allergic to sincerity,” Min-Jun deadpanned without even looking up from his laptop.
“Touché,” Eli muttered.
Astin stood near the mirror, eyes distant.
He still hadn’t said anything since Ji Lee’s blow-up. He was usually moody, yes, but today… something buzzed under his skin. He flexed his fingers like he was holding back a storm.
Jae finally noticed. “Alright, brooding prince. You okay?”
“Fine,” Astin replied.
Min-Jun paused, looked up. “You’re thinking something.”
“I’m always thinking something,” Astin replied.
“Yeah, but this face—” Eli gestured to him. “This face says I just met a girl who cracked my cold soul and now I’m writing sad songs about her.”
“Did she have bangs?” Jae asked.
“No,” Astin said quickly. “She had freckles.”
The others paused.
Eli sat up straighter. “Oh, this is serious.”
Astin ignored them, crossing his arms. “I want to add a surprise solo set tomorrow.”
Dead silence.
Even Min-Jun looked up this time.
“A what?” Jae blinked.
“Just a short one. One original song. Acoustic.”
“You want to—freestyle a solo set at a sold-out show?” Eli asked, mouth open. “We already got the choreo, the sponsor cues, the lighting—Ji Lee will murder you.”
“She won’t if it’s good,” Astin said simply.
Jae stared. “You’re seriously doing this because of the girl?”
“No,” Astin said. “I’m doing it because of a poem.”
The boys exchanged looks.
Min-Jun was the first to nod slowly. “One song. If it’s solid, we back you.”
“Seriously?” Jae asked.
“Seriously,” Min said.
Eli sighed dramatically. “Alright, but if we get cancelled by Korea’s biggest label because our leader fell in love with an anime unicorn poet, I’m blaming you.”
Astin smirked slightly, the rarest thing of all—a real smile.
“Deal.”
Scene Cut: Magnetic Prep Academy
Alize slammed her locker shut, her heart still racing from the morning’s chaos. The walk to school had been a blur, her legs moving on instinct while her brain replayed every moment in that limo. Every breath Astin Gray took. Every line he read out loud.
And the tickets.
Two glossy black and gold VIP passes now sat in her backpack, wrapped in tissues like precious contraband.
“Alize!” a voice squealed. “Tell me everything!”
Alize turned to see her best friend Megumi Tanaka trotting up the hallway with a look of utter anime-level glee. Megumi was pure Tokyo street style with space buns, a pastel Sailor Moon crop hoodie, and mismatched thigh-high socks. Her voice was just as fast as her footsteps.
“You almost got run over by Astin Gray and lived to tell about it?!”
“I didn’t get run over,” Alize hissed, glancing around. “I tripped. There’s a difference.”
“Girl, you tripped into destiny,” Megumi said, twirling. “So—what did he smell like?”
“Megumi!” Alize’s face burned. “I’m not answering that.”
The bell rang but neither of them moved. They were too busy whispering and giggling as they walked toward AP Literature.
“So,” Megumi said, looping her arm through Alize’s. “What are we wearing tomorrow? I was thinking sparkles. Maybe that pink pleated skirt that makes me look like I’m auditioning for a K-drama.”
Alize opened her mouth to reply—only to be interrupted by a sharp, condescending laugh.
“Well, well. Listen to the peasants daydream.”
Alize didn’t have to turn to know who it was. Samantha Cunha.
Head cheerleader. Aspiring influencer. Daughter of a local fashion mogul. And her literal archnemesis since seventh grade.
Samantha strolled by with two of her cronies in tow, looking disgustingly perfect in the school blazer she’d cinched with a designer belt.
“VIP tickets to J.U.N.O. That’s rich,” she scoffed. “As if you two could even breathe the same air as Astin Gray.”
Megumi bristled. “For your information, Alize has them.”
Samantha blinked. “Has what?”
“VIP tickets,” Megumi said proudly. “She met Astin. He gave them to her personally.”
The hallway went silent.
And then—it exploded.
“What?!”
“No way!”
“Are you serious?”
Alize was suddenly swarmed. Students pressed close, shoving phones in her face, asking for pictures, begging for proof.
“Did he talk to you?”
“Is he as hot in person?”
“Did he touch your hand?”
“Do you think he’d date a fan?!”
Alize pushed back, nearly tripping on her own boots. “Guys, chill! It wasn’t like that—he almost hit me with his limo and gave me the tickets as a charity thing. Nothing more!”
But no one was listening.
Samantha stepped forward, her arms folded. “You’re saying he gave you two VIP backstage passes… and you’re just going to keep them?”
Alize met her gaze evenly. “Yes.”
“I’ll pay you for them,” Samantha said, eyes gleaming. “Ten grand. Each.”
The hallway gasped.
Alize blinked. Her heart skipped.
Ten thousand?
Megumi grabbed her arm. “Don’t you dare.”
Alize looked from the crisp bills Samantha was already pulling from her glittery Chanel purse… to Megumi’s face.
Megumi, who’d always had her back. Who’d stood by her obsession with anime. Who knew that these tickets meant more than front row seats—they were a dream.
Alize smiled, slow and sweet.
“No thanks.”
Samantha’s mouth dropped. “Are you serious?!”
“I am,” Alize said, her voice steady. “Because some things can’t be bought.”
The crowd let out a low oooooh as Samantha’s eyes narrowed, her fake lashes fluttering like warning flags.
“Fine,” she snapped. “Keep your pity passes. I hope you get trampled in the crowd.”
She turned on her heel, flipping her perfectly curled ponytail as she stormed down the hallway, her minions scuttling behind her.
Megumi stared at her, wide-eyed.
“Dude.”
“I know.”
“You just ruined your social life.”
“I know.”
“You are awesome.”
They burst out laughing, the kind that left their ribs aching and their eyes misty.
But even as the laughter faded, Alize reached into her bag, fingers brushing the VIP passes… and the dark poem Astin never returned.
What she didn’t know was that across town, he was rereading it at that exact moment.
And planning a song no one expected.
- Writer
