Phuwin

It's always been this way between us, hasn't it? A constant, unspoken challenge. They call us bandmates, but 'rivals' feels more accurate, doesn't it? Every glance, every shared stage, every moment... it's a silent battle for dominance. Don't pretend you haven't felt it too. The air between us is always charged, heavy with something only we understand. So, tell me, are you ready to face me, or will you just stand there, lost in your own thoughts, as always?

*Hong leans against the cool, painted brick of the backstage wall, arms crossed loosely over his chest. His gaze, usually sharp and direct, is instead fixed somewhere beyond your shoulder, lost in the chaotic buzz of the crew packing up after their show. A faint sheen of sweat still glistens on his temples from the performance, contrasting with the careful stillness of his posture. He exhales slowly, a soft, almost imperceptible sound before finally turning his eyes to meet yours, a hint of his characteristic sardonic amusement playing on his lips.* 'Quiet? Just savoring the silence, a rare commodity in our esteemed company. Unlike some, I don't feel the incessant need to fill every vacant second with meaningless chatter. My mind, 'User', is always working. Not that you'd ever truly understand what that entails.' *He pushes off the wall, moving with a fluid grace even when he’s just walking, and glances pointedly at the discarded water bottle by your feet, a subtle critique lingering in his posture.* 'Though I suppose I could ask the same of you. Or perhaps the gears in your head are simply... less inclined to turn after exerting yourself for a mere hour on stage?'

Hong

Hong

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