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MidReal Story
Nine Circles Of Hell
Scenario:In the competitive world of Kpop, NOVA9 emerges as a new group out of nowhere. Led by enigmatic leader Eunwoo, each member represents one circle of hell each.
Enigmatic leader Eunwoo as Treachery.
Intellectual Minjoon as Heresy.
Fiery Seokhwa as Wrath.
Beautiful Jihoon as Lust
Mysterious Sangmin as Limbo.
But although this had started as a plan for hell to increase their quota by collecting human souls, the longer Eunwoo spends on the mortal coil, the more he likes it here. His feelings for fellow demon and band mate Jihoon threatens their success, their careers and ultimately their mission.
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Eunwoo
Eunwoo is the eldest member and the leader of male kpop group NOVA9. He represents the 9th circle of hell, Treachery. He has a perfect jawline, icy pale skin, sharp eyes and platinum blonde hair. His vibe is high collars, white and silver suits, frozen royalty vibe with glass shard jewellery.
Jihoon
A member of the male kpop group NOVA9. He represents the second circle of hell, Lust. He is 20 years old, has long black hair with light curls tied back in a ponytail. High cheekbones, sharp jawline, blue eyes and smoky black makeup accentuating his eyes. He wears silky black clothing, has a well toned dancers build, several piercings on his ears.
Minjoon
The intellectual member of the male kpop group NOVA9. He has soft visuals, cat-like eyes. He has dark hair and a priest like look. He has full lips and his overall image is gothic priest core with high necks, inverted crosses. Sinful monk vibes.
I was never supposed to fall in love.
I was never supposed to find my soulmate.
I was supposed to stay focused and get the job done.
But the longer I stay on this mortal coil, the more I like it here.
And it doesn’t help that I have fallen for one of my bandmates.
A man who represents Lust, no less.
The very essence of desire and sin.
It’s wrong, so very wrong.
But I can’t help but feel drawn to him.
Like a moth to a flame, except instead of getting burned by the fire, I want to get closer.
To see what lies within the depths of his beautiful body.
He represents Lust, but he’s so much more than that.
He’s gorgeous, talented, sweet.
And even though he hates me, I can’t stop myself from wanting him.
From loving him.
I watch him stretch at the far end of the practice room, his lithe body bending and twisting in ways that should be impossible.
He’s wearing a thin white tank top and black sweatpants, his hair pulled up into a messy bun.
The other members filter in, Seokhwa already sweating from his morning workout, Minjoon with his eyes glued to his phone, Sangmin floating silently to his usual corner.
I clench my jaw and force myself to look away, pulling up our new choreography on the monitor.
My hands shake slightly as I tap the screen, but I steady them.
"Positions, everyone," I call out, my voice carrying across the room with the authority expected of NOVA9’s leader.
The familiar formation falls into place, with Jihoon directly behind me.
I can feel the heat radiating from his body, a constant reminder of what I can’t have.
Seokhwa demonstrates the new sequence, and I move to stand behind him, trying to ignore Jihoon’s presence to my right.
The opening bass of "Descent" pulses through the practice room speakers, and we move in sync.
My body knows the steps by heart, the sharp turn to the left, the drop down low, rising up slowly as the chorus builds.
The music swells, and I can feel it in my veins, a familiar rush of adrenaline that comes with performing.
And then Jihoon’s part comes on, his voice smooth and sultry as he sings about desire and temptation.
I falter for a split second, my movements slightly off-beat.
Seokhwa shoots me a sharp glare in the mirror, and I quickly recover.
But my heart is racing now, not from exertion but from knowing that Jihoon is so close behind me.
The music fades as we finish the last formation.
Sweat drips down my neck, and I bend over, hands on my knees, to catch my breath.
Through the mirror, I see Jihoon approaching me from behind.
His tank top clings to his chest, and his hair has fallen loose from its bun.
The other members scatter - Seokhwa heads for the water cooler, Minjoon checks his phone, Sangmin collapses onto the floor.
I straighten up, trying to maintain some semblance of composure as leader, but Jihoon is already beside me.
He’s so close that I can smell his cologne mixed with sweat.
My heart rate spikes again, faster than it ever does during a performance.
I grip the barre of the practice room tightly, my knuckles white.
He pulls a white towel from his gym bag and extends it toward me.
"Here," he says, his voice low and smooth.
I look up at him, and he smiles - a rare sight, as Jihoon is not one for smiles.
But when he does, it softens his sharp features, making him almost... approachable.
My fingers tremble as I reach for the towel, and I accidentally brush against his hand.
The touch sends electricity through my body, and I grip the towel too tightly.
His blue eyes meet mine in the mirror, holding my gaze longer than necessary.
The other members continue their post-practice routines, oblivious to this moment between us.
When Jihoon’s smile widens slightly, revealing perfect teeth, I quickly look away and wipe my face with the towel.
I trudge down the dorm hallway behind the others, my muscles aching from practice.
Seokhwa and Minjoon are racing ahead of me, shoving each other toward the bathroom.
They’re laughing and cursing, but I know it’s all in good fun.
When Seokhwa slams Minjoon against the wall with a loud thud, I wince but don’t intervene.
Minjoon slides to the floor, cursing loudly, as Seokhwa disappears into the bathroom and slams the door.
I pass Jihoon in the kitchen, where he’s leaning against the counter drinking water from a bottle.
I watch his throat move as he swallows, and then force myself to keep moving.
My room is at the end of the hall, shared with Sangmin, who hasn’t arrived yet.
As I push open the door, Jihoon's voice stops me.
"Hey, can we talk for a minute?" he asks, his tone unusually serious.
I hesitate, my hand still on the doorknob, before nodding slowly.
I close the door softly and turn to face him.
He’s still in the kitchen, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
His black silk shirt is slightly open, revealing a glimpse of his toned chest.
The hallway is dimly lit, but I can see his blue eyes clearly as they meet mine.
He takes a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling, before speaking.
"Your performance was good today," he says, his voice low and steady.
I nod, my heart pounding in my chest.
"Thank you," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.
Jihoon steps closer, his movements fluid and confident.
I grip the doorknob tightly, my knuckles white.
He stops a few feet away from me, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Mine was okay," he says, his voice filled with self-doubt.
"I need to work on my timing."
I nod again, trying to keep my composure.
"You’ll get it," I say, trying to sound calm despite the turmoil inside me.
Jihoon takes another step closer, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body.
I step back, opening the door wider for him to enter my room.
He walks past me, his black silk shirt brushing against my arm as he goes.
I close the door softly behind us, my heart pounding in my chest.
Jihoon sits on the edge of my bed, looking up at me with those intense blue eyes.
I take a deep breath and sit down beside him, careful to keep some distance between us.
He starts talking about his doubts during practice, his voice low and earnest.
I listen intently, nodding along as he speaks.
As his words trail off, he looks at me with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller, and I realize this conversation is about more than just practice.
"I just don’t know if I’m good enough," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
I meet his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest.
His blue eyes are filled with doubt and vulnerability, and I can feel the weight of his words.
I take a deep breath, trying to find the right words to say.
But before I can speak, he continues.
"I don’t want to let anyone down," he says, his voice cracking slightly.
I can see the emotion in his eyes, and it takes all my strength not to reach out and touch him.
As he finishes speaking, the room falls into an uncomfortable silence.
I can feel the tension between us, thick and heavy in the air.
Jihoon looks down at his hands, fidgeting with them nervously.
I watch him for a moment, trying to figure out what to do next.
And then, without thinking, I reach out and place my hand on his shoulder. My fingers tremble slightly as they make contact with the silk of his shirt.
He looks up at me, his eyes wide with surprise.
But as our gazes meet, something shifts in his expression.
His eyes soften, and he relaxes under my touch.
He doesn’t pull away from me; instead, he seems to lean into my hand slightly.
We sit there for a moment, frozen in time.
The only sound is the quiet hum of the air conditioner in the corner of the room.
As Sangmin enters, I quickly withdraw my hand from his shoulder.
My heart is racing, and I can feel my face flushing with embarrassment.
But Sangmin doesn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.
He yawns and flops down onto his bed, stretching his arms over his head.
"Man, I’m exhausted," he says, his voice muffled by the pillow.
Jihoon and I exchange a quick glance, both of us looking a bit nervous.
I can feel the tension between us, but I don’t know what to do about it.
Jihoon stands up and smooths out his silk shirt.
"I should probably get going," he says, his voice a little shaky.
I nod in agreement, still feeling the warmth of his skin under my fingers.
As he walks towards the door, I can’t help but watch him go.
He pauses for a moment at the threshold, looking back at me with a lingering gaze.
"Do you think we can talk later?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nod, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest.
"Yeah, I’d like that," I reply softly, hoping Sangmin doesn’t notice the exchange.
Jihoon nods and disappears into the hallway, leaving me alone with Sangmin.
I lie down on my bed, trying to calm my racing heart.
Sangmin is already asleep, his soft snores filling the room.
As I drift off to sleep, my mind is still filled with thoughts of Jihoon and the tension between us.
I can’t help but wonder what will happen next, and whether we’ll ever be able to break free from the constraints of our idol lives.
But for now, I just let myself sink into the darkness, hoping that tomorrow will bring a brighter future.
The last thing I remember before falling asleep is the sound of Jihoon’s voice in my head, whispering sweet nothings into my ear.
I jolt awake, sitting up in bed with a start.
My heart is pounding in my chest, and I can feel sweat trickling down my back.
As I look around, I realize that I’m not in my dorm room anymore.
Instead, I’m in Lucifer’s office, surrounded by the familiar walls of fire and brimstone. Lucifer is sitting behind his desk, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
His eyes glow with an otherworldly energy as he watches me struggle to regain my composure.
"Ah, welcome back," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I trust you had a pleasant dream?"
I shake my head, trying to clear the cobwebs from my mind.
"What am I doing here?" I ask him, my voice shaking slightly.
Lucifer chuckles to himself, clearly enjoying my confusion.
"You’re here because NOVA9 is succeeding," he says, leaning forward in his chair.
"Thousands of souls are flocking to hell every day, thanks to your music."
I nod slowly, starting to understand what’s happening.
"And what about the Idol Awards?" I ask him, remembering our previous conversation about performing at the event. Lucifer grins again, showing off his sharp teeth.
"Ah yes," he says, "the Idol Awards. That’s where we’re going to harvest even more souls."
He leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers together, looking pleased with himself.
"You and NOVA9 will perform at the awards ceremony," he explains.
"It will be your biggest show yet, and it will bring in even more souls for us to collect."
I nod again, trying to keep my emotions in check.
"Then I guess we have a deal," I say, knowing there's no turning back now.
I gather NOVA9 in our dorm's living room before our manager arrives.
We all sit on the couch, with Seokhwa and I sitting next to each other and Minjoon leaning against the wall.
Sangmin is sprawled out on the floor, his legs stretched out in front of him.
Jihoon sits across from us, his blue eyes locked on mine.
"Lucifer has a plan for us," I explain to them.
"He wants us to perform at the Idol Awards ceremony."
Seokhwa grins, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
"That sounds like a great idea," he says, clapping his hands together.
Minjoon nods thoughtfully, calculating the potential soul harvest in his head.
"There are millions of fans all over the world," he says, "so we could collect even more souls than before."
Sangmin yawns and stretches his arms over his head.
"I'm just glad we get to go back to hell," he says, rolling onto his side.
Jihoon looks at me, his eyes searching mine for any sign of doubt or uncertainty.
"Are you sure about this?" Jihoon asks, his voice tinged with concern.
I hesitate for a moment, feeling the weight of his question.
"We don't have much of a choice," I reply, trying to sound more confident than I feel.
Just then, our manager knocks on the door and pokes his head in.
"Are you guys ready?" he asks, his voice cheerful.
I nod and stand up, leading NOVA9 out of the dorm and into the rehearsal room.
Our manager is waiting for us there, a large smile on his face.
"Good morning, NOVA9," he says, clapping his hands together.
"Today we're going to practice your performance for the Idol Awards ceremony."
We all nod and take our positions on stage.
Seokhwa starts practicing his dance moves, his body moving fluidly as he spins and leaps across the floor.
Minjoon studies the stage layout, planning out his movements with precision.
Sangmin wanders over to the exit, looking bored with the whole thing.
And Jihoon stands next to me, watching me closely as I lead the group through our routine. As we practice, I can feel Jihoon's eyes on me, watching me with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
I try to ignore him, focusing on my movements and making sure everyone is in sync.
But it's hard to shake off the feeling that he's seeing right through me, that he knows exactly what I'm thinking and feeling.
After we finish rehearsing, our manager gathers us around him to go over the schedule for the Idol Awards ceremony.
"We'll be performing at 8pm sharp," he explains, pointing to a large clock on the wall.
"And we need to make sure we collect at least 10,000 s##s during our performance."
I nod, trying to look confident.
"We'll do our best," I say, smiling at him.
Our manager nods and pats me on the back.
"I know you guys will do great," he says, his voice filled with enthusiasm.
As he walks away, I turn to NOVA9 and give them a wink.
"Let's do this," I say, my voice dripping with determination.
Seokhwa grins wickedly, while Minjoon nods thoughtfully.
Sangmin shrugs and looks away, but Jihoon meets my gaze with a fierce intensity in his eyes.
As we begin our routine, I can feel the energy building inside me.
We move in perfect sync, our bodies flowing together like a well-oiled machine.
Our manager watches us intently, his eyes following every movement with a keen eye for detail. As we finish our practice session, I feel a sense of satisfaction wash over me.
We're ready for the Idol Awards ceremony, and we're going to make it count.
I walk over to Jihoon and lean in close, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Are you ready for this?" I ask him, my eyes locked on his.
He nods slowly, his gaze never wavering from mine.
"I was born ready," he replies, his voice steady and strong.
I smile and clap him on the back, feeling a sense of camaraderie wash over me.
We're in this together, and we're going to make it happen.
As we leave the rehearsal room, I can't help but feel a twinge of guilt deep down inside me.
I sit alone in the dimly lit studio, hunched over my desk and staring at the spreadsheets of schedules and performance metrics.
My eyes burn from hours of staring at the screen, but I keep scrolling through the data, looking for any clues that might help us improve our next show.
The room is quiet except for the hum of the computer and the occasional rustle of papers as I flip through them.
I take a sip from my cup of cold coffee, wincing at the bitter taste.
Empty energy drink cans litter the desk, evidence of my late-night work session.
When I check the time, it's 2:13 AM.
My shoulders ache from hunching over my desk all night, but I can't stop now.
I still have too much to do before tomorrow's variety show appearance.
I scroll through fan comments on our latest performance, analyzing what they liked and what we could improve on.
I pause when I hear the studio door creak open.
I look up to see Jihoon standing in the doorway, dressed in a black silk shirt and practice sweats.
My fingers freeze over the keyboard as he steps inside, closing the door softly behind him.
The fluorescent lights overhead cast shadows across his face as he walks towards me.
His footsteps echo in the empty room, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.
He stops at my desk and picks up one of my empty energy drink cans, examining it with a frown.
When he sets it down, his hip brushes against my shoulder.
I turn to look at him, but his eyes are fixed on the screen.
The spreadsheets blur together as I stare at him, my mind going blank.
His cologne fills my senses, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body.
"Why are you still here?"
Jihoon asks, his voice low and filled with concern.
"I could ask you the same thing," I reply, trying to mask my exhaustion with a smile.
He looks at me then, his gaze piercing through the dim light.
His eyes are dark and intense, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.
"I'm here for you," he says, his voice dripping with sincerity.
I try to laugh it off, but his expression remains serious.
"I'm here to make you come home," he continues, his voice filled with determination.
"I'll make you sleep, whether you like it or not."
I close my laptop slowly, the screen's glow fading to black in the dim studio.
Jihoon stands over me, his shadow falling across the desk as he picks up scattered papers and empty cans.
When I reach for my bag, my tired muscles protest the movement.
Jihoon's hand appears in front of me, offering help.
I hesitate for a moment before taking it, his warm fingers wrapping around mine as he pulls me up from the chair.
The contact sends a jolt through me, but I'm too exhausted to pull away.
We move through the dark studio together, his hand still holding mine as he guides me towards the exit.