WHEN STARBOY TOUCHED SEOUL

CHAPTER 1: The Silence After the Screams The great event that everyone had been waiting for finally arrived. Fans from across the globe flooded the venue. From Lagos to Seoul, London to Jo’burg fans had gathered in Seoul like thier life deepend on it. The red carpet stretched like a glowing river, lights flashing from every direction. Paparazzi crouched with heavy cameras. Influencers and TikTokers danced in slow motion while going live. It was chaos, beautiful, buzzing chaos. Lightsticks lit up the night like stars, paparazzi yelled from every corner, managers and event hosts moved up and down, trying to keep everything under control. Security guards scanned the crowd. Event planners sprinted in all-black headsets. Stylists whispered urgently into shoulders. The crowd screamed, sobbed, and chanted names with shaky voices and glowing lightsticks. “STRAY KIDS! STRAY KIDS!” “JUNGKOOK OPPA!!” “TAEHYUNG, SARANGHAE!” “LISA, JENNIE, BLACKPINK!" “SUNGHOON, MARRY Me!" Stray Kids emerged first — precise, fierce, eyes locked on cameras. Enhypen followed, giving synchronized bows and charming grins. SEVENTEEN, NCT, TXT, and BTS came through like gods walking among mortals. The energy was wild. Seoul was shaking. But then… it changed. Not in volume But in vibe. “OMAH LAYYYYY!!” “SHALLIPOPI, PLUTO PRESIDO!!“ “TEKNO!!! NA YOU DEY RUSH US!!” “REMA, I SEE YOUUU!” “AYRA STARR, SLAY QUEEN!” The cheering wasn’t in Korean anymore. It was Pidgin. It was Afrobeat-coded. It was different. And the red carpet didn’t know what hit it. Omah Lay strolled in wearing a velvet green two-piece, dark shades, and a quiet smirk like he already knew he was trending. Tekno was next, bouncing in rhythm, tossing a mini salute to the crowd with his classic "slim daddy" energy. Runtown walked like luxury, dripping with slow confidence in all white. Ayra Starr arrived in gold literally with a floor-length shimmer cape and blonde braids that had fans screaming her lyrics back at her. Rema came like a rockstar, hoodie up, diamond chain down, doing t****k hand signs with the crowd. Burna boy strolled in with pride and elegance, fans screaming Africa giant Davido stormed in next — no filter, loud, smiling wide, dapping up security guards like old friends. Then came the Amapiano wave — Focalistic jumped out with his crew, log drums echoing from a speaker someone hid in a backpack. Korean fans didn’t understand the beat… but they started dancing anyway. It was now an Afro event and K-pop idols noticed. “Wait… who are all these people?” “They’re not on the program.” “The fans love them…” Just as the hosts tried to regain control of the stage— The screaming changed again. No chants. No singing. Just one loud, messy, contagious wave. “FC PRESIDENT!!!” “BIG WIZZZZZ!!!” “POPSI DON LAND!!” “STARBOYYYYY!!!” The crowd surged forward. Security flinched. Even the K-pop idols turned to look. A matte black G-Wagon rolled in at half speed. No stickers. No flag. No window down. Just presence. The door opened slowly… then paused. A single foot stepped out in chrome Nike boots, landing like thunder. Then came the rest — Wizkid, in all-black Dior, sunglasses that didn’t move, and energy that screamed: “I’m not here for clout. I am the moment.” He didn’t wave. He didn’t speak. He adjusted one chain, nodded once to no one in particular, and started walking. And with each step? The screams got louder. The aura was insane. “SEOUL BELONG TO POPSY NOWWW!!” “JUNGKOOK WHO?? NA STARBOY GET THIS NIGHT!!” Even the BTS boys leaned over, whispering things like: He’s… calm, but the fans love him. “I’ve never seen this kind of reaction” Wizkid didn’t stop. Didn’t pose. He walked straight down the red carpet like a man who didn’t come to be seen but to take over. And just like that... K-pop lost the room.