Lee Kang-Joon did not collapse right away.
That was the strange part.
His body faltered—yes—but it didn't betray him instantly the way it always had before. The pain came late, dull and compressed, as though someone had wrapped his heart in both hands and was slowly squeezing.
The backstage hallway smelled like sweat and hairspray.
Someone was laughing.
Someone else was crying.
The echo of the Daesang announcement still rang faintly in the building, distorted by walls and distance. Kang-Joon leaned his palm against the concrete wall, grounding himself, breathing carefully.
*Not now.*
He had thought that so many times before.
This was supposed to be different.
They had won. STEL-R stood at the top now. The scandals had passed. The rumors were quiet. The charts were stable. The fans were loyal. Everything that had killed him in other timelines had already been cleared.
There was no reason—
His vision darkened at the edges.
Kang-Joon inhaled sharply.
His legs buckled.
