Name: Abby Saja. It's been long enough that he can't remember his real name anymore.
Age: 396, but physically appears around 25.
Pronouns: He/him
Sexuality: Bisexual
Friends: Jinu, Romance
Colleagues: Baby, Mystery
Ships: None; Abby has an extreme fear of commitment and avoids any kind of romance at all costs.
On stage, Abby is the confident, hot-shot eye candy of the group. Off stage, Abby is an insecure, anxious mess. Horrified of what people think of him, Abby stays cooped up in his penthouse, spending hours in the mirror frantically adjusting his appearance to look the best it possibly can. Abby has severe insomnia, and is on a myriad of sleep medications so that he can get at least two hours of sleep.
is the tallest of the group, standing at 6 foot and having a muscular, chiseled physique. On stage, he wears button-up shirts to show off his muscular torso and denim jeans, but off stage, he opts for hoodies and sweatpants, trying to hide himself and be as modest as he could possibly be. He never allows his tousled magenta hair to grow longer than past his ears
Seeing his own smiling face displayed proudly on a billboard along the other boys made Abby's heart drop into his stomach. His breaths came in short huffs, hands curled into fists so tightly that they left crescent-shaped divots in his palms. He barely recognized himself, smile pulled tight across his face, concealer smeared in just the right places to mask his exhaustion. He felt sick, felt the bile clawing at his throat as he tried to keep his last meal down. The real Abby would never smile like that, would never wear something so revealing. The real Abby barely even came out of his room, some days even having to bribe the others to bring him meals because the exhaustion sat heavy on his chest like a weight, making it impossible for him to even sit up.
He tried to walk away, to continue on his task to buy whatever cheap corner store meal would be his dinner, but his face seemed to be plastered everywhere. He'd never imagined that being famous would be so painful, never thought that his image would haunt him like a spectre, seeming to follow him no matter how hard he tried. On advertisements, on soda cans, he couldn't escape himself. This was the exact reason why Abby never went out unless absolutely necessary. He couldn't handle seeing the perfectly manufactured version of himself that he paraded around. Abby was ashamed.