We're All Going To Die (2)

Yeri stepped forward, her voice light and airy. It was enchanting to hear such weighty lyrics with the voice she was portraying.

"Now, I'm lying on the bed that I didn't want to get out of.

That was in the past.

Now, the bed is my permanent home.

One that would last.

Was it too hard to bring back the before?

Was this all I've lived for?"

She spoke of regrets, of the moments one wished they could reclaim on their deathbed.

As she moved gracefully across the stage, it appeared she was planting invisible seeds. White, little butterflies flew across the LED screen, adding to the gentleness of her gestures.

The other girls followed her lead, their hands brushing the air as if tending to the seeds Yeri had sown.

Their movements were fluid, less like a rehearsed dance and more like a natural progression of actions.

It didn't feel like choreography.