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Even from where I stand I can see Taemin clenching his teeth at that.

People have begun to pay more attention to what’s going on on stage and stop in what they’re doing to watch.

“RANDOM PLAY DANCE!”

I don’t know whether to laugh or to cry. Does he really want to copy the infamous “Weekly Idol” game? This doesn’t even make sense with just one of us equipped with those fatal shoes. We should all be dancing, and anyway we were always really good at this, especially Taemin.

But the starting-track is “Real” from our “Replay”-EP. We haven’t danced that choreography for ages. I hardly remember any of it at all although I like the song and I believe I liked the dance as well.

“”, Jjong curses beside me and even Minho looks seriously worried.

“What’s going on? Why don’t they start dancing again?” one of the police guys asks us agitatedly.

“It’s an ancient choreography of ours. I don’t think they remember”, Minho says equally nervous. “I know bits and pieces ... maybe we can figure it out if we all work together?” He looks at Jjong and me. But there is no time.

Jjong just shakes his head. I close my eyes in anticipation of the next explosion when I hear the familiar husky voice over the speakers again:

“Five, six, seven, eight ...”

“No ing way ...”, Jjong says almost smiling.

“That’s our Kibum”, Minho adds.

For a second we stare in awe at our guys on stage, the younger following the older in the forgotten choreography. I can’t remember ever being that proud of Kibum and his amazing memory and so grateful for it.

But the relief is short-lived. After less than a minute the track changes again. It’s “Hello”, thank God, they should be fine.

Anyway we need to hurry and finish the evacuation. There are still so many people inside the stadium.

I can see a couple of guys in black jump-suits in the scaffolding above the main stage. They probably belong to the bomb-squad. I wonder how they’re doing.

Officer Song, the guy in charge, has been talking to someone on the phone for a while now. He is standing right in front of the stage, apparently keeping an eye on Taemin and his shoes. I’d rather not have him that close to my boys because he’s kind of irritating.

Now he is joined by a heavy-set man in his forties in a cam-suit. That and his crew-cut indicate he is army. I can’t hear what they are saying but the army-guy keeps throwing us looks.

“Talk to them”, Jjong tells me, “before they interfere with Taem again.”

He is right. I run over and catch a snippet of the conversation.

“... so as long as those fags keep prancing around it’s safe? Are you ing kidding me?” the army guy says.

I want to punch him in the face and hard. I almost wish Jjong had heard this but I try to stay reasonably calm.

“There is a device in Taemin’s shoes”, I explain before Song does, “that appears to trigger the explosions if he makes a mistake or doesn’t dance at all. So keep away from him ... please ... don’t make it any harder.”

Song confirms with a nod since the army-guy doesn’t seem to be listening to me.

“And you are ...?”

“My name is Lee Jinki, I’m leader ... of the faggots”, I tell him. Song flinches at that but not the man I directed this to.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense ... with all the makeup and fancy rags”, he replies, looking me up and down with an ugly sneer on his face.

I didn’t even think about what we look like. But of course we are still in our stage outfits and full makeup. But does it even matter?

“This is a matter of national security now, we cannot rule out that it’s an act of terror prompted by our friendly northern neighbors”, the guy says not bothering to tell me his name in return. “You and your fancy friends over there will evacuate with everybody else.” He is nodding towards Jjong and Minho who are still helping to remove barriers and obstacles.

“I don’t want any civilians messing in this”, he carries on. “And as for the two fairies up there, I’m not convinced there is any connection between them hopping around and the explosions. Those guys are just watching and randomly blowing up the place. I’ve seen it before. They’re among the crowd.”

“No, you  ...”, I start to argue but the just ignores me and orders a couple of soldiers over to Jonghyun and Minho.

Officer Song shoots me a frustrated and helpless look and shrugs.

“You’ve SEEN it”, I shout at him, “tell him that there is a connection.”

“I haven’t really seen anything like that”, he answers, “we don’t have proof that the explosions haven’t just been triggered by somebody in the vicinity. It’s indeed possible that there is no connection at all.”

“Even if it’s not the shoes, the bomber reacts on what Taemin does”, I argue back, “you’ve ing seen it.”

Song doesn’t reply to that but the army-guy isn’t listening anyway. He’s climbing onto the stage.

“Now quit the , ladies”, he shouts at Taemin and Key, “the show is over.”

Taemin’s head whips around to him but he doesn’t stop dancing. I’m more impressed with Kibum though. He steps between Taem and the guy with a blood-curdling look on his face. And when the army-dude tries to push him to the side to get to Taemin, Key hisses into the microphone for everyone to hear:

“Over my dead body!”