A letter from Jul 26, 2025

July 26-27, 2025 one of those nights that i just needed to write it down i don’t know how to explain it, but gayo daejeon left a strange taste in my mouth. of course i am proud—so, so proud. seeing ahof stand on that stage for the first time… it felt like time slowed down. like, how did we even get here? from those nameless predebut days to this. i watched with my heart in my throat. they looked beautiful. they were beautiful. and i swear, no matter what anyone says, they belonged there. i’m sure of it. but still… there’s this quiet frustration i can’t ignore. not towards them—never towards them—but towards how they were treated. a little ache that comes with knowing they deserved more. better camerawork. better stage focus. better respect. they worked so hard and poured their hearts into this debut performance. and yet, it felt like they weren’t given the space to fully shine. and that stings. because they deserve to be seen. what breaks me more is how so many fans felt it too. the disappointment. the hurt. the collective anger—not at our boys, but for them. we all wanted this moment to be perfect. and it wasn’t. and that’s hard to sit with. but if there’s something i hope we hold on to, it’s this: let’s turn that frustration into fuel. the votes are still ongoing. the fight is still on. and if this stage couldn’t do them justice, then let’s get them one that will. let’s win those awards. let’s get them rookie of the year. let’s help them climb where they’re meant to be—not just seen, but recognized. maybe it’s too early right now. maybe the world isn’t ready just yet. and maybe that’s okay. because i believe their time will come. and when it does, it’ll be loud, undeniable, and theirs. but even now, even in this not-yet moment—they’re already shining. "no one can dim a light that burns from purpose", they say. and their light? trust me, ahof's light is never meant to flicker. it will grow. i realized tonight how protective i’ve become of them. how deeply i care. how quickly i’d shield them from every unfair edit, every missed opportunity. it’s love, i guess. the kind that sneaks up on you. and stays. so here’s to them: to the boys who carry light like a promise. to the ones who remind me that sometimes, quiet beginnings make the loudest stories. i’m proud of who they are, how far they’ve come, and who they’re becoming. and here’s to my co-fans, too—the quiet ones, the loud ones, the tired ones still choosing to fight. i hope you’re all resting. i hope you’re all healing. and i hope you remember that even showing up is enough. this wasn’t the perfect stage. but it was theirs. and that’s enough for me. for now. despite everything, or maybe because of everything, my heart’s full tonight. because our nine—my nine—showed up. they danced like it was the only stage that mattered. they sang like their voices were made for this moment. and they smiled. they smiled. and for that alone, i am endlessly proud. for now, i’ll hold this night with care—let myself feel the sadness, the pride, the ache, the quiet kind of hope. because this, too, is love. they may not know my name. but my love for them is real. always has been. always will be. and when the world finally sees them the way we do, we’ll look back on nights like this and smile. their light was never meant to dim—and neither was ours. so may they rest. may they laugh. may they know they are loved. and may we keep holding the light for them—until the world finally does too. goodmornight, me. keep going. they’re doing the same. 🤍 to my future self, right now, ahof has been my comfort in the loudness of everything. they’ve been my reminder to breathe, to keep choosing softness, to believe in slow beginnings and quiet strength. so wherever you may be reading this from—i hope you’re in a place where you can still find reasons to breathe. and i hope, with all my heart, that one of those reasons is still ahof. mark these dates gently on your heart: ₊˚⊹ august 2 — ticket selling ₊˚⊹ august 4 — your first year of college begins ₊˚⊹ august 31 — the first fancon… and maybe, your first fancon too i truly pray you’ll be able to go. to be there, with the people who’ve felt like home: ahof, and your SYA family. i hope you get to use your ipad inside AHAUAHHAHSHAHAHHAHA and capture every precious moment. may you enjoy it all—the screams, the laughter, the silence, the stillness. both your first fancon and your first step into college life. live it fully. live it honestly. you deserve that joy. best, rai 🤍