A Thin Layer of Ice

slow dancers

The audience was brimming with thousands and thousands of people as they waited in the dark for their beloved Boy Group: Spring Rain. They held large signs and lights to prepare for the expected entrance. Faces of all sorts appeared in the large crowd, here for the same objective. And when footsteps echoed upon the stage, the scene exploded.

Six beautiful men walked into the limelight, wearing a dark red theme. They were in suits, in different shades of red, with black dress shirts that were slightly undone at the top. The outfits accentuated their bodies wondrously, and no doubt was a blessing to their fans' eyes. Sleeves tightened around their bulging muscles and when a breeze rushed through the stage, their chiseled abs were revealed for a little. Their hair was done perfectly to become soft waves and small microphones were tapered to their mouths. It was indeed them -- the oh-so-famous group that had captured the hearts of the country.

Wook grinned at the looming abyss in front of him, his smile already beginning to hurt his face. Wringing his fists to the side, he fought the urge from combing his fingers through his dyed blond hair, which was a nervous habit of his. Smile and please the people, you damn bastard, he mentally reminded himself, never once dropping his facade. If he even stopped looking content for a second, the media would eat shit up, turning him into a bad guy who took his lifestyle for granted.

The leader of the group, Chul, stepped forward. The light captured his ebony locks and dark pupils. "How are we doing tonight, Rains?!" he greeted the people. A roaring scream was their response, for the night was still young. The other members of the group started waving their hands, so Wook quickly followed suit. It was deafening, it really was. It was so loud that it was beginning to hurt his head.

Each of the members began to introduce themselves, although it was pretty obvious everyone in the wide arena knew them by now. It went down the row and soon enough it was his turn.

"Hey there everyone! It's Wook here," he said, shooting them a finger heart. "I'm the badass of the group." They screamed yet again at his greeting, chanting his name over and over.

Ren, the shortest member on the team, quickly whipped his head over. "You only say that because you got multiple piercings. In actuality, you're just a softie," he said in a teasing tone. The sound of laughter came from ahead and Wook laughed along, giving Ren a gentle shove. This usually happened -- where small banters occurred on stage to appease to the audience. They enjoyed it a lot, actually. These moments apparently fed to their ships. There were even things known as ship wars that were often found trending on Twitter. That, or fanfiction written about them. It honestly made Wook a little uneasy, but many others had assured him that they were harmless. He supposed they had a point. Not that he had any room to complain anyway.

"Rains! Is Ren the cutest?" he called out to the audience. A booming yes was their response, so he winked at the other, pride taking over his expression.

Chul quickly signaled the group to get into position. The blond hurried to his spot, taking a deep breath and preparing himself for a long battle awaiting. Before he could dwell on it too much, the music began and so did his mates. Mind running through the choreography he had practiced for millions and millions of times already, his limbs moved along to the beat.

Every motion was done flawlessly, synchronized with the other members. They worked as a unit, swinging their limbs around and dancing their hearts out. Taking turns with their vocals, melodic singing accompanied their moves, void of breathing. It was a technique they were taught since the beginning of their group, for they had to keep it a perfect performance. No one liked to hear the sounds of ragged breathing. But they also didn't know how difficult it was to control breathing. Multi-tasking between dancing and singing was a hellish task that required lots of training. Once again, no one knew that. Not that they'd care.