The hip-hop unit is in the middle of a major performance when a technical glitch cuts the music and ruins their set. With the crowd confused and no time to fix things, they have to decide whether to abandon the stage or improvise on the spot.
Can they turn the disaster into a moment that proves their skill and resilience, or will they leave in frustration?
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The beat was throbbing, each heavy bassline vibrating through the floor as Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Vernon commanded the stage with precision and intensity.
The Seventeen's Hip-Hop Unit had been rehearsing for this performance for weeks.
Every bar, every move, every second was supposed to be perfect.
The audience was alive, waving lights and chanting their names, swept up in the powerful energy of the set.
Then, without warning, the music cut off.
A split second of silence stretched across the venue, almost louder than the thundering beats had been.
Seungcheol's mic, still live, picked up his sharp intake of breath, and in the audience, murmurs of confusion spread like a ripple.
They all froze, the four of them exchanging looks, a mix of shock and frustration flashing in their eyes.
This was every performer's nightmare.
A technical glitch like this, right in the middle of a high-energy performance, could ruin everything.
Seungcheol scanned his members' faces for a split-second read; Wonwoo was tense, his fists clenched, jaw set; Mingyu's brows were furrowed, his gaze darting around in search of a technician, anyone who could help fix it; Vernon stood stock-still, staring out into the crowd as if willing the sound to come back by sheer force of will.
The silence was stretching on, and in a venue packed with thousands, time was precious.
They couldn't waste a second. Seungcheol knew that leaving the stage was not an option.
They had to turn this around.
He gave a small nod, eyes fierce, the kind that said, Trust me.
One by one, they nodded back, knowing there was only one path forward; improvise, take control of the moment, and let their raw talent take over.
Seungcheol raised his mic to his lips, and his voice rang through the silence, strong and clear.
"Let's show them how we do it without the beat!"
He threw a look at Vernon, and without hesitation, Vernon stepped forward, dropping into a freestyle flow.
His voice was smooth, calculated, each word landing with a natural rhythm that filled the void where the music should have been.
