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Summary
A little twist of what could have happened if The Frontman acted something when Junho disguised himself as a waiter in the VIP lounge.
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Inho stood rooted to the floor. Torn between duty and devastation. Junho had made it here—clever, brave Junho—but he was dancing in the jaws of monsters. That one VIP’s lingering interest made his blood boil. But he couldn’t act. Not yet. Not without exposing Junho. Not without putting him in even more danger.
Junho walked around the lounge as he handed the lion-masked man another glass of wine. He turned slightly toward the Frontman, gaze brushing over him without recognition.
The moment lanced through Inho like a knife.
His own brother looked at him and saw a stranger.
And all Inho could do was remain still. Silent. Watching. Dying inside.
Bookmarked by Beeliver6
03 Jan 2026
