Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The only thing predictable thing about life is its unpredictable ability. Anyone can be anything; you can be everything.

Han tapped it foot to the beat of alien as it flooded through his headphones. The soft rattle of the van was enough to lull most of the other members to sleep – this included Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin, who created a pile of bodies in the middle row. Han would have slept, even Hyunjin was drifting off beside him, but his mind was being a bit too loud to let the car ride or the music sooth him.

It was loud because of the comment. Which made no sense to him. The comment had been in passing. It was barely even a comment it was so unintentional. Han knew it was so miniscule there was no point in wasting any kind of brain power on it. It was just a few words from their dance instructor, not a big deal. At a certain point in their dance, Han and Changbin were center, and their instructor had casually told Changbin that his defining feature was his muscular figure and to try to show it off in this point of the choreography. And what was his tip to Han? His prominent feature was his chubby cheeks, so maybe he should smile to try to accentuate them.

It could have been taken as a compliment. It probably was supposed to be a compliment, but some tiny voice in Han's head really liked to replay the word "chubby" like a broken record. It was getting annoying. Enough so that Han had turned the volume so high up on his headphones his ears were aching with the sound.

He stared harder out the window, trying to glare away the word repeating in his head. Chubby. Chubby cheeks. Chubby. Chubby. Chubby. Fat. The switch in words almost startled Han. He blinked a few times, shocked his mind would so quickly go to that. He wasn't fat. He knew that. And just as soon as the word had popped up, it faded back to the annoying but tolerable Chubby replay.

Time for a new song, Han decided. Something that would really drown out his mind. He ended up playing Ponytail by Twice. That song made it almost impossible to frown while it was playing. And although the volume was so high, he was certain that Twice was actually singing in his head, he kept the song going.

It worked wonders until they made it back to the dorms. He clicked the volume down a few levels but made sure it was still loud enough that his thoughts had no chance of being heard. With that, they parked, and the members slowly started crawling out of the car.

"Are we here already?" Jeongin asked, rubbing his eyes as he lifted his head off of Felix's shoulder. "We just got in the car."

"Yeah, you fell asleep immediately." Hyunjin answered, unbuckling his seatbelt and using Jeongin's headrest to pull himself up. Reaching over he patted the maknae's head. "Can you move now? I have to use the restroom so bad."

Jeongin smiled and groggily pushed Seungmin out of the car door to make room for the seats to be leaned forward. Felix slid lazily out of his seat and then the back row was unloaded. Minho jumped over the seats and pulled the chairs down to let Hyunjin and Han out.

Changbin, having occupied the front seat, was already at the door unlocking the dorm. Hyunjin pranced awkwardly beside him, mumbling about hurrying up. Han waved goodnight to the rest of the members as they loaded back into the car to drive to their dorm. Minho returned the gesture but Felix, Jeongin, and Seungmin were already asleep again.

"You coming, Hannie?" Changbin called and Han wipped around, just barely hearing him above the music in his ears. He nodded and hurried into the dorm after the older 3Racha member.

The dorm was empty – Hyunjin had already ran to the bathroom, and Chan was still at the studio working on a song he'd had bubbling in his head all day. Han and Changbin wanted to help but after their intense dance practice, the last thing they wanted to do was stay at the studio. Han resolved that he'd help Chan with it later and dragged his feet to his room.

He slipped his sneakers off, dropped his phone on his dresser, and flopped back on his bed, arms spread out and eyes slipping shut as the next song on his playlist started playing. He thought he'd clicked his Twice playlist, but apparently, he'd been wrong and clicked a random girl group playlist. To My Youth by Bolbbagan4 started playing and his eyes shot open.

The familiar melody flooded him, and his heart skipped a beat. He hadn't heard this song in forever. And there was a reason for that. He jumped to his feet so quickly his head spun and stumbled across the room. His finger slammed down on the pause button and the silence that was left was louder than the music had been. He could hear his heart beating and the slightly surprised and panicked breaths.

"Not that song." He whispered, shaking his head to break the silence that threatened to suffocate him. "Not that song." He picked his phone up and skipped to Some by Bolbbagan4 – a lot happier of a song and a song that didn't remind him of something he'd rather forget.

Though it had been too late; The damage was done. Like smelling freshly baking bread and remembering the feeling of standing in his grandma's kitchen, the melody of To My Youth reminded him of slightly more offensive words than the ones uttered by his dance instructor.

"He's so fat." The voice whispered from his memory. He shook his head again, turning the volume up on his phone until his head was splitting open with the song. Still, the words lingered. Despite the fact that he had been six or seven when they were spoken about him behind his back, they never really left him. It had been his friend that said them. Sure, it was years ago, he didn't even really remember their name, but the words – he remembered those words.

Fat. His mind supplied for him again. Cutting off the stream of Chubby to throw a curveball at him. This time he saw it coming though. Yeah, he'd felt fat a few times, but he knew he wasn't fat now. He was a good weight. He knew that. He had no reason to believe something whispered by one person when he was a kid. He had no reason to be offended by someone probably trying to compliment his cheeks and smile. He wasn't fat. He knew he wasn't fat. But once more, the voice in his head whispered: fat.

Maybe he was coming down with something. Or maybe he'd made the ramen differently. Whatever it was, the noodles felt gross in his mouth. They felt slimy and after trying for a few bites, he'd settled on just eating a banana – which also ended up tasting weird. He ate half and offered Changbin the rest.

The living room was eerily quiet. At least, Han was pretty sure it was quiet. He had his headphones back on, paired to Hyunjin's phone and listening to whatever playlist Hyunjin had – which so happened to be a lot of loud rap. Perfect. Exactly what Han was hoping for.

He tried closing his eyes but was shocked awake when a hand tapped his arm. He glanced up and found Changbin leaning over him, pointing at his phone, his lips moving to saw something. The rap in Han's ears blocked any and all sound leaving Changbin. He yanked the headphones off and dropped them around his neck. "Sorry, what was that, Hyung?"

"Chan hyung texted." Changbin repeated, pointing at his phone. "He was wondering if we'd write some rap verses for a beat he has going."

"Oh sure." Han nodded, hands back on his headphones to bring them up and block out the words – or more specifically one word – that threatened to be screamed on repeat in his mind. Pulling the headphones back up quickly, he averted his eyes from Changbin.

But with another tap on his arm, Han reluctantly pulled the headphones down again to face Changbin. "Aren't you going to reply to him?"

"My phone's in my room." Han shrugged.

Changbin nodded. "Alright. I'll respond for both of us."

"Thanks, Hyung." Han quickly pulled the headphones back up and closed his eyes, letting the power of the rap soak through him. He really admired the writing skills this rapper had – the song Violet had gone viral several months ago, and while the passion for it had faded out of most people, but Han still found it inspiring - especially Killa's verse. It was the kind of rap he wanted to write. Though, recently, the things he'd been writing lacked the confidence that verse held and leaned more towards the kind of rap verse from his song Slump. In other words – burnout. He wasn't burned out though. He knew he wasn't.

The next song that came on was one of their own – Maze of Memories. Han cringed. Not that it was a bad song – he actually thought they did a good job on this one. Maybe too good of a job. For some reason, the lyrics were hitting a little too hard today.

Still, he tried to appear relaxed and made himself focus on the beat and not the words. But that was hard when another voice in his head somehow spoke louder than the music blasting from his headphones.

"He was talking about you." His friend whispered.

"What did he say?" Han asked.

"It's not true you know. What he said. It's not true." His friend blurted.

"Well, what did he say?"

"He said that you're fat."

In middle school, that hurt pretty badly. He wasn't six then, he was twelve – old enough to really truly care about what others thought of him. And twelve was only about eleven years ago. That's a lot closer than six is. He clenched his fists in his sweatshirt. Maybe it was true in middle school, but he's twenty-three now. He's an idol, not just any idol, he's Han Jisung, the ace of 4th gen. He was a rapper. A singer. A songwriter. A dancer. He had a long list of the things he was, and fat was not something on that list.

Chubby. Fat. Fat. His mind wasn't being very helpful. He wasn't fat. He knew he wasn't fat. But... Fat.

Chapter Text

"Are you going to eat that?" Felix asked, pointing at the protein bar was abandoned on Han's thigh. It had one small bite taken out of it, but for some reason, Han thought it tasted disgusting today. His taste buds were playing pranks on him. Yesterday it had been the ramen and the banana, today it was the eggs he attempted to eat at breakfast and this protein bar that was supposed to be his energy source to get through this dance practice.

"Nah, you can have it." Han shrugged, motioning for Felix to take the bar.

Felix picked it up, but paused and carefully studied the food. "Is something wrong with it?"

Han chuckled. "I didn't lick it if that's what you're worried about."

"This is your favorite kind of bar..." Felix continued, raising his eyes from the bar to glance back at Han. "You sure you don't want it?"

"If I wasn't sure I wouldn't have given it to you."

Felix furrowed his brow. "Are you eating enough?"

The question shocked Han into snapping his gaze over to his twin. Now it was his turn to furrow his brow. "Of course. What makes you think I'm not?"

"It's not you... I don't know, I just... never mind." Felix reluctantly bit into the protein bar and moved on to talk to Hyunjin who was stretching in the corner with Minho.

Han sighed and grabbed his water bottle, tipping it back and guzzling it. They'd just run through Megaverse about a million times. It was fun, Han loved dancing to it. But they hadn't had a single break in the first hour and a half of practice and he knew he wasn't the only member who was feeling the effects of the intense song.

"Are you all set to keep going?" Their dance instructor called from across the room where he was preparing the music for their next song.

"No." Seungmin groaned even as he stood up and got back to the middle of the floor. "But let's do it anyways."

Han jumped up and turned to offer Jeongin a hand up. He froze, however, when he noticed the way the maknae's bangs covered his face. He didn't look like he was moving to get up, or that he'd even heard what their instructor had said.

"You coming, Innie?" Han asked, putting his hand out, hoping the younger with look up and take his help.

Jeongin's head bobbed, but it was such a small movement Han wasn't sure if he was actually responding. "Innie?" He asked, nudging the maknae with his shoe. "You coming?"

"Mmm." Jeongin hummed, but instead of putting his hand out to reach for Han's, it fell limply by his side. "Hyung, I don't know..." His voice was barely audible, and Han's heart skipped a beat before pounding to make up for the lost pump.

"What's wrong, Innie?" Han asked, squatting down in front of the younger and trying to lower his head to peer up into Jeongin's face - his incredibly pale face. The area under his eyes was gray and his lips were as white as paper.

"Chan hyung." Han called, glancing back to find that the leader was already making his way over. Of course he was watching the interaction - Chan was always alert to his members. Han was surprised that Chan hadn't noticed it sooner.

The eldest knelt in front of his youngest, taking Han's place while the maknae of 3Racha scooted out of the way. He set his hand on Jeongin's head, ruffling the black highlighted hair. "Hey Jeongin, you feeling alright, mate?" Chan's tone was light and casual, but Han's heart kept pounding all the same.

"Gonna... Hyung, I'm gonna pass out." Innie mumbled, his eyes slipping closed. His fingers twitched as if he was trying to get his body to move though it had lost all coordination. It was the only sign that he hadn't gone completely unconscious.

"Okay." Chan said, still softly. But being so close, Han could see the way he clenched his jaw, eyes burning with some mix of concern and fear. Despite the look in his eyes, he remained calm, reaching out to grab the youngest's shoulders tightly. "I've got you, Innie. Let's lie down, yeah?" He slid Jeongin away from the wall and the younger promptly went limp, flopping to the ground. If Chan's hands hadn't been holding him so tightly, he would have hit his head.

Han watched as the rest of the boys pushed closer, a collective gasp rising from the group. But Han could see the way Jeongin's eyes rolled beneath his eyelids, his fingers still uselessly twitching. He was still somewhat conscious, though how aware he was, Han had no idea. He looked whiter than paper and if he had to guess he'd say he was only aware of about 10% of his surroundings.

"Can you hear me, Innie?" Chan asked, taking his hands off the youngest's shoulders to tap his cheek.

"Can't see." Jeongin whispered.

"Your eyes are closed." Han spoke up. Did he not realize he'd closed his eyes? Maybe 10% was being generous.

"Dark. Hyung... dark. Can't- can't see." Innie gasped, his white lips pulling into a frown. "I can't see." Han guessed Jeongin felt like he was screaming the words, but in reality, he could barely even hear them.

"Your eyes are closed, Innie." Han repeated. The panic in Jeongin's frown and breath was easy to detect and it only made Han's heart pound faster. He looked up, locking eyes with Chan. The leader could fix anything. And he had to fix Jeongin before the younger worked himself up into something worse than passing out.

Han's look must have been desperate because Chan moved immediately, scooting across the floor to grab his bag. He dragged it back with him and knelt down at Jeongin's feet. "Innie, can you lift your legs? I want to prop them up."

Han's heart clenched when he saw the strain on Jeongin's face. He bit his lip, squeezing his eyes in concentration, but his feet only lifted a couple inches off the floor. "Can't. Can't move." He whimpered. "I can't move. Hyung. I can't move!" The panicked whispers hurt Han and he had to force himself to take a deep breath.

"That's alright." Chan said calmly. Taking Jeongin's ankles, he lifted them himself as he moved his bag with his knee under the youngest's feet. Gently he laid them back down on the bag and patted his ankle.

"Is he alright?" Han glanced up Felix. The protein bar was half eaten but completely forgotten in his hand.

"Yeah, he's alright." Chan nodded, offering a reassuring smile at his fellow aussie. "Just a little lightheaded."

"No. Hyung." Innie called out, his voice breaking off into a whimper. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't apologize, Innie." Changbin spoke up. "You didn't do anything wrong. It was a tough dance practice."

"No. No. I'm sorry." Jeongin tried again, his lower lip trembling.

"Yah, did you not hear, Binnie?" Minho said, his lip turning up on the right side. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"No. Hyung, please. Please. I'm sorry." Jeongin whimpered, begging them to understand something he couldn't seem to articulate. Han's heart broke when tears started slipping passed his eyelids, and - unable to use his hands - they slid all the way down his cheeks until they pattered on the dance floor. "Sorry. I'm sorry. Hyung, I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for, Innie?" Chan asked, scooting back up to Jeongin's head and grabbing his youngest's hand. That was the final straw for Jeongin. With whatever strength he had left, he poured everything into crying and sobbing out his apologies. Chan cooed, and attempted to wipe his tears away, but he wasn't fast enough to keep up with the waterfall.

"Hannie, can you grab some tissues?" Chan asked and Han was on his feet so fast he saw stars. He ignored them though, and bolted across the room, propelled by the pitiful sobs and hiccups coming from the maknae.

His hand closed on the tissue box, and he whipped around, prepared to run back, but he froze when an arm reached out to still him. Looking up, he found their dance instructor, and the concern the man felt was evident in his eyes. "Jisung, if he needs to go home, he can. There's no point in trying to make him dance when he can't even stand."

"Thanks." Han whispered, bowing his head.

He jogged back to Jeongin's side and set the tissues on the floor, pulling two out and dabbing at Jeongin's cheeks. "Shh, you're okay, Innie." He soothed, though he wasn't sure how much Jeongin could hear over his own cries. Han's heart stopped when Jeongin's face went impossibly paler and he gagged, followed by a sad whine.

Chan squeezed his hand twice. "Innie." The youngest gagged again, tears freefalling down his cheeks. "Innie, you need to breath, you're working yourself up. Passing out is scary but you need to calm down a little bit, yeah? Can you do that for me, Innie?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Jeongin babbled, his head rolling side to side on the hard floor.

"It's okay." Chan cooed, managing a sad smile as he ran his thumb down the bridge of Jeongin's nose. "Breathe, Innie."

"Hungry. I'm hungry. Hyung, I'm so hungry." Jeongin gagged on his sob again.

"We can go eat as soon as you calm down." Han quickly offered, throwing the two tissues behind him and grabbing four more. "And we can go get whatever you want to eat. Anything. Tanghulu, mochi, ice cream. You name it, we get it. How about that, Innie?"

"No. No. Hyung, no. I can't." Jeongin sobbed, gagging.

"Why can't you, Innie?" Han asked carefully.

"I'm fat." Jeongin whimpered. "She said I'm fat."

"Oh." The noise that left Chan was completely unintentional, but he couldn't hold it back. He glanced back at Minho, his eyes locking with the dancer's. "Lino, has he been eating?"

"I think so." Minho said, his voice trailing off. "I... can't remember."

Han glanced up at the older dancer, though his eyes wandered further back to where Felix looked almost as pale as Jeongin was. His eyes were wide, more than concern clouding them.

Did he know? - Han thought. - Did he know something was wrong with Jeongin?

"That's alright." Chan sighed as Minho hung his head in shame. "Innie, I want you to tell me the truth, when was the last time you ate?"

"I'm sorry!" Jeongin cried.

"You don't need to apologize, Innie, I just need to know."

"I- Yesterday. I was going to... I was going to eat. I promise. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Hyung."

"Shh, it's okay, Jeongin." Chan set his hand on his youngest's head, pulling the hair back from his face. "When was the last time you had a full day of food?"

"Monday." Innie cried. Han sucked in a breath - that was four days ago. "I'm sorry. She... she said I'm fat." He let out one loud sob before biting his lip to silence himself.

"Who?" Changbin spoke up, clenching his hands into fists. Han assumed the rapper wanted to know who he needed to murder.

"Dietician." Felix answered, drawing all eyes to him. "We both had appointments Monday. She wasn't... wasn't the nicest. And... Oh god, I just let her bully him. I didn't even say anything. I knew- I knew what she said to him, and I didn't even bother to ask if he was okay though I knew something was wrong." Seungmin set a hand on Felix's shoulder, attempting to ease the tension that had taken over his body. "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, Lix." Chan sighed, glancing back at him. "Can you hand me that protein bar?"

"Yeah." Desperate to fix his mistake, he sprinted the short distance between him and the leader, dropping the bar into his waiting hand. Chan looked into Felix's eyes, holding his gaze for a moment. Han wasn't sure what he said through that look, but Felix nodded and stepped back to latch onto Changbin's arm.

Chan turned back to Jeongin, squeezing the younger's hand before releasing it to tap his cheek. "You have a bit more color back in your face. You okay to sit up?"

Jeongin nodded, gnawing on his lip to keep himself quiet though the tears refused to lessen.

Chan slipped his hands under Innie's armpits and pulled him up, setting him against the wall and keeping a hand firmly on his chest in case he fell forward. "You good, Innie?"

"Mm." Jeongin hummed, balling his hands into fists. Han was relieved to see that he could at least move his fingers properly now.

"Alright. Can you open your eyes?"

Han watched, biting his tongue, as Innie's eyes slowly peeled open. He offered a smile at the youngest and waved at him. Jeongin kept chewing his bottom lip as he turned his eyes over to the leader in front of him. More silent tears slipped down his face. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so stupid."

"No, you're not stupid, Innie. You're not stupid; you're not fat. I don't know what that dietician told you, but you have to believe me." Chan held the protein bar up to Jeongin's face. "I want you to eat this. All of it. Then we can leave."

With shaky hands, Jeongin grabbed the protein bar and took a tentative bite. He basically inhaled the rest of it, dropping the wrapper onto the floor when he finished. Chan sighed, and Han felt something in him release too. At least it didn't get to the point that Jeongin refused to eat. While there were obviously issues, Han couldn't be happier that he wasn't fully consumed by the belief he was fat. He'd rather be burned alive than watch the maknae struggle with an eating disorder. He could only imagine the relief that Chan must be feeling at that revelation too. He was the leader, and he would never let himself forget it if he let something like that happen to Jeongin - or to any of them, Han assumed.

"How are you feeling now, Innie?" Hyunjin asked carefully.

"Okay. I'm sorry." Jeongin sighed. The waterfall of tears had stopped since he ate the protein bar, and while his eyes felt like they were going to explode with the headache he had, he did feel better. Though he hung his head, embarrassment seeping through. "I'm sorry." He repeated.

"Don't apologize." Changbin said softly, waving his hand dismissively. "You know, I have a gift card to that ice cream shop a few blocks from our dorm. Anytime you want, let's go there together."

Innie kept his gaze down. "But what about..."

"If you're going to mention that idiot of a doctor, you're better off keeping your mouth shut." Minho interrupted. "What she told you was a lie. You're not fat. So, we're going to eat ice cream."

Chan hummed, and patted Jeongin's knee. "You're looking a lot better. Do you want to try standing up?"

"Yeah." Innie slid his back up against the wall, and Chan kept his hands out in case he fell forward. But he made it to his feet and managed to stand on his own well enough. "I'm alright." He nodded at the eldest.

"Good." Chan sighed, momentarily closing his eyes.

"You guys can head out." They all turned to look at their dance instructor on the opposite side of the room. "We'll just extend practice an extra hour tomorrow. But today, go home."

"Thank you." Seungmin and Changbin said in unison and all the boys bowed to their instructor.

"I'll grab Jeongin's bag." Han offered as they began packing up.

The rest of the boys wandered out of the room with their stuff. Chan walked a bit slower with Jeongin and Han overhead their conversation as he grabbed both his and the maknae's things.

"Don't starve yourself, Innie. It's really dangerous, okay? You nearly passed out after just four days of poor eating. I'm not going to tell the company about it this time, but next time something like this happens, I'll have to tell the someone, okay? I don't want to involve them with a personal matter, but I can't let you hurt yourself. Understood?"

"Yes. And I'm sorry. I'm just so stupid. I knew what she said wasn't realistic, but I guess I'm just foolish enough to believe it."

"We all believe things we shouldn't believe sometimes. And if you ever don't know if you should believe something or not, come ask me. Come ask any of us. We can help you, Innie. We're connected. We're a team - that's what we're here for. We're always here for you, Jeongin."

"Even if I'm a fool?"

"Which you're not."

"But..."

"Yes. Even if you were, we'd still be here for you."

Han glanced over just as Chan ruffled Innie's hair and they stepped out of the practice room. Hauling his and Jeongin's bags onto his shoulders, he sighed and followed them. He couldn't imagine resenting food like Innie had. He couldn't imagine believing so firmly that he was fat that he'd sacrifice his health to try to lose weight. He wasn't fat, he knew he wasn't.

But Jeongin had so firmly believed he was fat and was wrong. Did that mean that Han could - in turn - firmly believe he was skinny and be wrong? He shook his head. Where were his headphones and music when he needed them?

Chapter Text

Han plopped on the couch in the 3Racha + Hyunjin dorm. Chan had gone back to the other dorm with Jeongin. He had wanted to talk to Felix about what really went down at the dietician's, he wanted to ask Minho to keep a close eye on the youngest, but most importantly, he wanted to hold Jeongin in his arms until they forgot about the rest of the world. Han wanted someone to do that for him. He could imagine how nice it would be to just stay in Chan's arms until he fell asleep. He could forget everything else in the world and just feel Chan's love.

But here he was on the couch alone.

"You wanna go out for something, Han?" Changbin offered, leaning over the back of the couch. "I don't feel like cooking and Hyunjin passed out in his bed."

"Oh. Sure." Han shrugged, pulling himself up off the couch. His shoes were still on, so all he had to do was grab his card and his phone - both of which were in his coat pocket. He draped his winter coat over his shoulders and waited for Changbin to write a note to Hyunjin that they were leaving for a bit.

"Alright." The older rapper nodded as he set the note out on the table. "Let's go."

They locked the dorm behind them and headed out into the streets. Being December, the sun set pretty early; it was only 5:30 but it looked like it was about midnight. The two boys walked along the Seoul sidewalks. Han kept his hood up to avoid being recognized and Changbin had a cap pulled low to cover his eyes.

"So, where are we going to eat?" Han asked after they walked a block away from their dorm.

"Actually, I don't know. I just wanted to talk to you." Changbin shrugged, sticking his hands deep in his black winter coat.

"Oh? What about?"

"You seemed pretty shaken up by Jeongin today." Changbin began, glancing sideways across the street at a group of rather loud tourists. "I mean, I understand that it was an alarming thing to find Jeongin like that, but you really looked scared. I don't know, I guess I just wanted to make sure you're doing okay - you know, with your anxiety and stuff... so... are you okay?"

Han smiled. The awkwardness the elder felt about this topic was tangible, but the sweetness of his efforts anyways was soothing like he imagined earlier Chan's hug would be. "Yeah, I'm okay, hyung. I'd let you know if something came up. In all honesty though, I've been doing really well lately. No breakdowns, no nothing for months. I think I'm good now."

"I... Yeah, maybe." Changbin kept his eyes on the group of people across the street, seeming to avoid looking at Han altogether.

It didn't go unnoticed. "What?" He asked quickly. "You don't sound convinced, Binnie hyung."

"I believe you, Hannie. I believe you're doing really well. I live with you; I've seen it firsthand. I'm just worried that, I don't know - maybe it's something I shouldn't even be worried about - but remember when you were first diagnosed and the doctor said it was something you could be struggling with for years, or you could relapse, or..."

"Woah, Changbin hyung, hold on there." Han's feet planted firmly in the ground, and he raised his hands to stop the elder. "You think because I got scared that Jeongin was passing out that I'm relapsing?"

"I don't know. You're not super open about your anxiety. You never talk about it with us."

"Because I've been fine. Seriously."

"But Jeongin was fine this week and then it turns out he wasn't."

Han laughed, patting Changbin's shoulder. "I appreciate the concern, hyung, but seriously, I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me. Worry about yourself, maybe you've got something going on in that head of yours with all these thoughts you're spouting out right now."

"I'm fine." Changbin chuckled, shaking his head at the ground.

"I'm glad we're both fine then." Han nodded then looped his arm through Changbin's. "You still haven't picked a place to eat. And as fun as walking through Seoul aimlessly with you sounds, Jeongin and Felix ate my protein bar earlier, so I'd really like some dinner."

The two rappers decided on a little local restaurant that was rarely occupied - it saved them the risk of running into Stays who would so lovingly come to greet them, and on any other day they'd lovingly greet them too. But today, food and quiet sounded like the best course of action. There was one little girl at the restaurant though who was obviously a Stay. She didn't run over to them, she just kept patting her mom's shoulder and watching the two boys eat. Han could see how excited she was just to get to see them, and so he went to her, let her take a selfie with him, and told her to have a great day. She looked like she was about to die of excitement and Han felt satisfied.

He returned to Changbin just as their food was set out. They'd ordered French fries and some chicken with sauce. Basic foods, but warm and comforting. Changbin dug in immediately, hungrily chewing the chicken. Han munched on the fries and took little bites of the meat. It tasted delicious; he'd eat out the whole restaurant if he could. But he started getting full. He glanced down at his plate. His eyes widened. How was he full? He'd eaten barely a quarter of his meal. He usually ate a ton, especially when it came to French fries. He'd hardly eaten anything today, how was he not hungry?

Relapse. Changbin's word popped up into his head. Han shook his head and nearly laughed at himself. Relapse of what? He didn't have an eating disorder, never did. Sure, he had anxiety, but that never had an effect on his appetite before. He chalked it up to it just being an off day and ended up sipping on his lemonade.

"So did Chan send you that beat he'd been working on?" Changbin asked, cutting off another piece of chicken and popping it into his mouth. He was already almost done with his entire plate. How?

"Yeah." Han answered, picking up another fry and setting it in his mouth. It sat heavily on his tongue for a second until he could get his mouth to chew. He really wasn't hungry, but he had to be hungrier than a quarter of a meal. He'd danced and sang all day with hardly any food. Why was his body lying and saying it didn't want food? Han knew he wanted food.

"Did you get a chance to listen to it?" Changbin continued, popping the last fry on his plate in his mouth. HOW?

"Not yet. Kinda busy today. Is it good? Do I even need to ask that? Of course, it's good; It's Chan we're talking about. I was hoping to get some time to listen to it tonight." Han answered, pushing his chicken around with his chopsticks.

"It's really good." Changbin nodded, a smile creeping up on his face. It was the kind of smile that was 100% genuine, and when that smile came on Changbin's face, Han couldn't help but smile too. "I already started brainstorming some lyrics. I don't really have anything concrete, just vibes and a few words I want to add. But I really think it's going to turn out well already."

"Now I want to get home and listen to it!" Han laughed.

"Finish up and we can head out." Changbin chuckled, taking another bite of chicken and smiling at the memory of the verse he'd been writing.

Han's smile dropped as he glanced down at his plate. Finish up? Does Changbin not realize how difficult that'll be? He risked another bite of chicken, but it sat heavily on his tongue again. He chewed and chewed and suddenly felt sick. Am I coming down with something? I have to be. If I was healthy, I would have devoured this meal and then some. Somehow, he swallowed the bite and pushed his plate away.

"Not going to finish?" Changbin asked, his smile dropping into something less genuine. Han could see the change in his eyes.

"No, I kinda don't feel good."

"Uh oh. You getting sick?"

"I sure hope not." Han chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. Especially with being in public, they had to keep up a happy-go-lucky exterior. "I'll be okay. I think I'm dehydrated."

"We can head back." Changbin nodded, grabbing his phone off the table and slipping out of his seat. "And when we get back, you're going to drink a whole bottle of water."

"You want me to be peeing all night?" Han laughed, standing up and pulling his hood back over his head.

Changbin sighed and left the cash on the table. "You'll be fine."

"There's only one bathroom in the dorm, hyung. If I'm in there every five minutes..."

"Hannie, you're so gross."

"You sound like, Hyunjin."

Changbin barked a laugh. It attracted the attention of the little girl. Not that she had really looked away, but her head whipped around, her ponytails bouncing with the movement. It caught Han's eye and he tapped the older rapper's shoulder. "Wait up."

He moved around a few tables and came back to the girl's side. She smiled brightly, her dark eyes lighting up. He put his hand up for her to high-five. She put her entire strength into that high-five and Han only semi-jokingly retracted his hand and whined, "Wow, you're strong."

She giggled, shrugging.

"It was nice meeting you. Keep listening to our music?"

"Yep!"

"Awesome. Have a good holiday season."

"Merry Christmas."

"Bye." He waved at the girl as he walked back to Changbin's side.

The girl waved back at him, a smile plastered on her face so firmly her cheeks would probably be sore after this. "Alright." Han nodded to the older member. "I'm all set."

"You made a friend?" Changbin chuckled.

"Yeah. You should try it sometime."

"Rude." Changbin huffed, pulling his cap back on and heading towards the door.

"It was just some friendly advice, hyung." Han smirked. "It's not my fault you look so intimidating the way you always stand in the corner of a room, arms crossed, and frowning."

"That's my resting face, Han."

"Resting my ass. You look like you want to murder everyone and with those biceps you probably could. No wonder people get scared of you."

Changbin jokingly glared at the younger before huffing a laugh as they stepped out into the cold Seoul streets. "You know what though?" Han continued. "I bet there's a half a million Stays who would pay money for you to glare at them like that. You really should start a business. 10,000 won for a stare. 30,000 for a glare. You could do 50,000 won for a headlock. Maybe do a season special and do 60,000 won to be drop-kicked."

"I hate that you've thought about this, Ji."

"Ah, you know you love me, hyung."

Changbin barked another laugh and Han joined in laughing as they walked the rest of the way back to the dorm.

The clock on wall said 1am, but Han last remembered it saying 10pm. The only reason he even glanced up to check was because he heard the door being unlocked. He could tell by the fact that they struggled with the keys that it was Chan. Likely exhausted, the leader sometimes struggled with simple tasks like unlocking a door on the first try. It went unnoticed by most, but Han noticed. He knew. He knew a lot more than people gave him credit for. Though, one thing he didn't know was why he hadn't been hungry all day. Even now he still wasn't hungry, despite Changbin saying he should try to eat before going to bed.

The elder was obviously concerned, having checked Han's temperature, though as Han predicted, it came back 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit. Changbin reluctantly went to bed, making Jisung promise to wake him if he felt even the slightest bit off.

But he felt fine. He was fine. It was just an off day for food.

The door finally opened, and Chan entered quietly. If Han hadn't heard the keys, he wouldn't have heard Chan enter. Thousands of late nights made Chan a master at sneaking around in the dark while everyone else slept. That's probably why he jumped when he turned around and found Han there on the couch, legs kicked up on the coffee table and laptop on his lap. "Hi." He greeted the leader.

"You scared me, Ji." Chan whispered, releasing a shaky laugh. "I thought you'd all be asleep."

"I thought I would be too but here I am." That earned an amused smile from the elder. Han waited for Chan to hang his coat and put the keys on the hook before he spoke again. "I was listening to the beat you made."

"Oh!" Chan's eyes lit up as he crept across the cold wood floor to sink into the couch beside the younger. "What do you think?"

"I don't like it."

"Oh... Oh yeah. You're right. It's not my best."

"I love it, hyung."

"I should have worked harder on... oh. Oh c'mon, Han Jisung." Chan lovingly kneed Han's thigh. "You almost gave me two heart attacks in the last thirty seconds."

"Just like to keep you on your toes, hyung." Han giggled.

Chan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I've had enough of that for one day."

Silence followed the comment and Han's smile slowly melted away. He saved his work and closed the laptop. "How's Jeongin?"

"He's okay." Chan nodded, zoning off at the blank tv across the dark living room. "He was pretty distraught tonight when we tried to get him to eat dinner. But he ate well, and we got him to fall asleep. Took a while, but I think he's going to sleep hard."

"That's good." Han sighed, pulling his legs off of the coffee table and setting his laptop on it instead. "Poor Innie, that dietician was a jerk."

"It's this industry." Chan shook his head, and Han could feel the flash of anger roll off the elder. Chan rarely got mad, but when it came to his members' health, he'd fight a lion - And probably win. "Apparently she had said some stuff to Felix too. But fortunately, he spoke to one of our managers already. He's signed us all up for appointments with a new dietician. I think some of us have it in our schedule tomorrow. I should check." Chan reached into his hoodie pocket for his phone, but Han put his hand out to stop him.

"You could check tomorrow and just try to sleep tonight."

Chan laughed, about to argue, but Han spoke again. "I said try. I don't feel like I can sleep well either, but we gotta try, right? An extra hour of dance practice tomorrow, you know."

"Yeah. Let's get to bed. You can tell me all your genius lyrical ideas tomorrow."

Han nodded and stood up, following Chan to the bathroom where they brushed their teeth and washed their faces.

"Goodnight, hyung." Han said, carefully pulling the door to his room open. He slipped inside then stuck his head back out. "Sleep." He smirked at Chan's look of disbelief and closed the door behind himself, wandering over to his bed and flopping down.

Long day. Very long day. Tomorrow would probably be longer.

I don't really want to do tomorrow. I'd rather lie in bed and write lyrics to that song Chan started.

Oh, come on, Han Jisung, did you see that little girl tonight? She looks up to you. Be someone worthy of looking up to. You're the ace of 4th gen, you know. Act like it.

But the ace of 4th gen wouldn't be fat.

I'm not fat.

But what if you are?

I know I'm not fat.

Okay.

132lbs. The numbers blinked back at him from the scale. He'd been 135lbs last he checked.

"Alright, Jisung, you can step off the scale." The new dietician said, noting the numbers on the scale. "I don't think you need a heavy diet right now. You just finished promotions for Rockstar, so I think it's alright to let you relax a little bit. I'll send a light diet to your manager, but overall, I think you're really healthy." She smiled sweetly at him like a kind mother.

"Thanks, ma'am." Han bowed his head.

"Of course. When you leave, can you send Lee Minho in? He's the last I have to check."

Han nodded and stepped out of the room. As he walked down the hallway back to the waiting room, he felt weird. Not bad weird. Good weird. Very good weird.

132lbs? I haven't been that low since... have I ever been this low? I can't remember, but it feels good. Really good. When was the last time I felt this good? There was a bounce in his step, a smile pulling at his lips.

He felt better knowing he'd lost 3lbs than he ever did eating candy or going out for fries with Changbin. Maybe diets were totally worth it. He used to hate them, but maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe he should actually follow the dietician's suggestions this time.

It was a new age of Han, he decided. He was going to prioritize his health over the short happiness of eating unhealthy foods. He'd eat more salads, less chocolate, more smoothies, less milkshakes.

This is the new generation, go away. Gone days. The lyrics played in his head, and he bounced the rest of the way down the hallway to the song stuck in his head.

Chapter Text

Three meals a day and one snack. That's what the dietician recommended for Jisung. It was super easy, so easy he found it hard to actually intake that much. Sometimes he didn't have time for a snack, or just forgot that breakfast existed. But other times he watched Hyunjin on his intermittent fasting diet, or Changbin only eating protein shakes for breakfast and though the voice in his head was quiet, it became a constant during those times. Saying: you're fat, they're skinny. You know it, they know it. And while often he could bring the voice down to a near inaudible mumble, it never really went away.

The weekend and most of the week went by really quickly. They had a flight on Wednesday to the Philippines for the AAA (Asia Artist Awards), but he spent the flight listening to the demo he'd made with Changbin and Chan for the beat Chan had created last week, so even that day didn't feel super long.

When they landed on Wednesday, they had the entire rest of the day to do anything. So, of course, they elected to do nothing. The eight boys stayed in the hotel. Changbin went to the gym and Han decided to go with him. He'd eaten a little heavier on the airplane so burning a few calories since they didn't have a dance practice today wasn't a bad idea.

He found himself spotting Changbin on the bench, though his eyes wandered around the gym. It was pretty empty. There was one guy in the corner of the room on the treadmill and a girl in the other corner doing some weightlifting. Han found himself staring at her.

I wonder if she has a boyfriend.

"Jisung." Changbin's breathy huff pulled Han from his thoughts, and he quickly reached down, pulling the bar up and onto the supports. The elder sat up, head hung, sweat dripping off his black hair.

"Sorry, I wasn't focused."

"I don't want to die, Jisung, please stop staring at older girls and make sure your hyung doesn't kill himself with a 200lbs weight."

Han blushed. "Right. Yeah."

Changbin glanced up at Han through his wet hair, a half-smile on his lips. "Do you want to try benching?"

"Have you seen these arms?" Han laughed, flexing as best as he could - while some might say it was muscle, he knew what he was showing off was just fat. "I could probably bench a noodle and feel like I'd gotten in a full workout."

Changbin laughed brightly, running a hand through his hair to slick it back from his face. "What do you want to work on then?"

Han pinched his lips together and zoned out at the mirrors on the wall across from them. "I wish we could practice, but I don't think our managers would want us spoiling choreography in the middle of a random gym."

"Who's spoiling choreography in a random gym?" Han and Changbin glanced over to find Minho and Chan walking over to them. Both had black t-shirts on, and Chan was holding two water bottles and their keycards.

"Changbin hyung."

"Hannie."

They pointed at each other then started laughing. Han pretended to kick the older rapper and Changbin raised his fist like he'd punch him. Minho shook his head and muttered something about them being insane.

"Are you guys still benching?" Chan asked, nodding towards the equipment that Changbin was still sitting on.

Han shrugged. "Nah, I think Changbin hyung could bench the entire weight wrack already so there's really no point for him to stay. And I've determined that I have the strength of soggy slice of bread."

Minho made a face and started laughing.

Chan nodded, "Very descriptive. What were you going to work on then?"

"Don't know." Changbin answered, standing up from the equipment and grabbing his water bottle and keycard off the floor. "You guys have anything in mind?"

"Is there a dance room?" Minho asked hopefully. Of course, being the only member currently present from DanceRacha he had to represent his sub-unit. Han chuckled when Minho's quick scan of the gym left him with some things to be desired and a frown pulled at his lips. "Well, I guess we could do some weightlifting."

"Benching, or...?" Chan clarified.

"No, I hate benching. Like Hannie said, I feel like a slice of soggy bread compared to Binnie."

"I just feel like a piece of soggy bread in general." Han corrected.

"Let's leave the bread analogies to Jeongin." Chan chuckled as he wandered across the room to the weights. Han bent and grabbed his stuff and followed the older members.

The girl who'd been working out in this corner was just putting her weights back as the four boys approached. "Hello." She casually greeted Chan who made it to the corner first.

"G'day." He answered in English to match her.

"Oh, you're Australian?" She asked, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Born and mostly raised." Chan chuckled, stroking the back of his neck.

"My husband is from Australia."

Dang it. Han snapped his fingers in disappointment. She does have a boyfriend.

"Oh, that's great! Tell him hello from a fellow aussie."

"I will." She grabbed her water bottle off the floor then moved to walk away but stopped and turned back around. "Oh, by the way, some the weights were being weird. I think some are old and broken. Just be careful."

"Thanks." Changbin managed in English, shooting her a thumbs up.

The girl nodded and left the four boys alone. Now it was just them and the random Gymbro across the room still running like a maniac on the treadmill. Han had to do everything not to get the song stuck in his head upon that thought.

He set his water bottle down and grabbed a couple lighter weights, starting with some bicep curls. Chan sat down and started stretching with Minho - both still sore from the plane ride. Han glanced over at Changbin who was curling 52lbs weights, huffing out breaths. He glanced down at the pitiful 25lbs in his hands. He moved to put the weights and grabbed 40lbs. He'd regret this later but burning a few extra calories would be worth it.

I'll lose weight faster this way anyways...

"I hate airplanes." Minho groaned, lying down on the ground, arms out as he bent one leg and rested it on the other knee, turning his hips to the side to stretch his lower back. "They smell funny, there's always so many people, the food tastes like Changbin's cooking..."

"Yah! Minho hyung!"

Minho cracked a smile.

"Hey, look on the bright side, at least after we fly back to Korea we're done with flights for the rest of December." Chan offered, rolling his shoulders in circles. "One more flight."

"That's one flight too many." Minho huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes. Han could tell he was joking though. If Minho really wanted to complain, he'd go to Chan or him alone and then sit there waiting for the other to guess what was bothering him. It was the world's worst game. It always went the same way: "Hey, Minho hyung, you okay?"

"No."

"What's up?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. Tell me."

He'd shrug and the game would commence.

"Did one of the members piss you off? Are you feeling sick? Are you stressed about a show? Did your voice crack at a concert? Did the shower water turn off again?" It happened once and Han didn't know someone could be so distraught over a shower. So, he always added it to his list of questions to ask.

Yeah, he knew when Minho was really upset with something. And he knew how to react. Although, there were the rare occasions that Minho wouldn't play his part in the game. He'd lock himself in his room, he'd bit his lip to hold back tears, he'd say he's fine. As much as Han hated the original game, he hated that version more.

"Hey Hannie." Changbin called. "Your form is a little off."

"Huh?" Han glanced down at his arms. "It is?"

"Yeah. Here." Changbin stepped halfway over the flopped-out dancer on the ground, his feet on either side of his torso.

"Nice view, Seo Changbin." Minho laughed reaching up and smacking the younger's butt.

"Hey! I'm holding 104lbs worth of weights right now!" Changbin snapped, though he smiled down at Minho all the same.

Chan rolled his eyes and smiled fondly at his members, standing up and stretching his legs out. He watched as Changbin showed Han the proper form.

It happened before he'd even realized anything changed. One second, the weight was in Changbin's hand, the next there was a cracking sound. Changbin stilled mid-lift but didn't have time to stop the weight from breaking the rest of the way. The girl had warned them that the weights were old and broken.

It's fine though. The weight thudded to the ground heavily, 52lbs worth of weight, but Changbin and Han jumped aside in time to spare their feet.

"Okay, maybe we're done lifting weights." Changbin said, his voice tense.

A sharp intake of breath, almost pained sounding, got Chan's heart racing. He glanced over at Han, who had set his weights quickly back on the rack. If not Han then... Oh. OH.

"Minho hyung?" Changbin asked first. Stepping back to get a full view of the elder.

Minho had rolled over onto his stomach, knees scrunched up under him and forehead pressed to the floor. Had Hyunjin been there, he would have said "that's gross, Minho hyung, do you know how many people have stepped there?" and the thought would normally make Chan laugh, but something was wrong. Seriously, wrong.

"Hyung?" Han asked, furrowing his brow at the elder.

"Fine." Minho choked out though his words were muffled by the floor. "Fine. I'm fine."

"Sounds convincing." Chan sighed, stepping over the younger to kneel in front of him. "Are you okay?"

"Give me space." Minho panted, pushing his forehead harder against the floor, his hair covering his face. Chan's heart hammered against his sternum. This was definitely wrong.

Han stepped forward, kneeling behind Chan and reaching out to pat Minho's leg. "I said space. I need space." Minho hissed, though there was zero venom behind his words. It more sounded like he was holding back tears. Han removed his hand quickly. It seemed that they were going to be playing the second version of "is Minho okay?". Han hated this version so much.

"Did I drop the weight on you, hyung?" Changbin asked, leaning over Minho and patting his hip.

Minho groaned, half frustration and half what broke Han's heart because it sounded like pain. "Not your fault." He managed to get out though. "You didn't mean to. It's fine."

"Where did it hit?" Changbin asked, rubbing Minho's hip.

"I'm fine. I want space." Minho panted then made a pitiful whine in the back of his throat.

Chan tapped his fingers on the ground beside Minho's head to get his attention. "You can have space after we make sure you're okay, mate."

"I said I'm..."

"I know what you said Lee Minho." Han stiffened. Uh oh, Minho's in trouble now, that's Chan's leader voice.

The dancer must have heard the change immediately because he blurted out, "Hand. Hit my hand."

"Okay." Chan sighed, his voice returned to being careful and tender. "Can I see?"

"No, I... I need space." Minho groaned, rocked back and forth on the ground.

"Lino." Chan began but Jisung put his hand on his shoulder. It had suddenly clicked for him. Head pressed against the ground, rocking back and forth, hissing through clenched teeth. Minho was going to cry.

"I think he means privacy, hyung." Han translated the nearly indecipherable Lee Know language. "We're still in public." He motioned to the gym around them. And while Gymbro on the treadmill was likely paying no attention since he was running like a cheetah was chasing him, Han knew that Minho would never allow himself to cry in public.

"Is that what you want, Lino?" Chan asked, setting his hand on the younger's head. If Minho had wanted real physical space, he likely would have flinched at the contact, but like with Changbin's hand still on his hip, he didn't react.

He groaned, nodding his head against the ground.

"Alright." Chan said. "Han, can you grab the water bottles?" He was already on it. "Let's head back to the rooms, Lino. Cmon, I'll help you up." He managed to pull Minho up, so he was sitting on his knees. From here he could see that Minho had his right hand pressed tightly against his chest, hiding it with his other hand.

What was more concerning though was his face. He was almost as pale as Jeongin had been last week when he nearly passed out. "You okay, mate?" Chan asked, raking his fingers through Minho's hair to pull it back from his face.

"You're really pale, hyung." Han added, standing in front of Minho, arms filled with water bottles.

"Not gonna pass out. Don't worry." Minho whispered then returned to biting his lip.

"Alright." Changbin nodded, standing behind Minho and hooking his hands under his armpits. "Up you go, hyung." He lifted Minho easily, having just benched nearly twice his weight.

As soon as he was on his feet, Minho speedwalked away from the group towards the gym's exit. 3Racha had to jog to catch up to him. As they entered the lobby where a few bellboys were standing, Minho's pace quickened like he was more desperate to hide and cry. Looking at his face, Han wasn't sure they'd make it to their room before he burst into tears. He was biting his lip so hard it had gone white, and his eyes were shining with the tears pooling in them.

But it turned out that Minho never intended to make it to their room. A handicap bathroom in the lobby served the purpose of privacy well enough for him. He ran to it, shoving his shoulder roughly against the door to push it open, and slipped inside. Han ran and held the door opened for Chan and Changbin to slip in before following himself and locking the door behind them. He could only imagine the weird looks those bellboys were giving them, having just watched four sweaty boys shove themselves into a tiny bathroom.

Han turned around, setting the water bottles on the floor and in the few seconds it took to do that action, a loud sob broke through the small room, echoing off the walls. His heart ached with the sound. No one - absolutely no one - sobbed quite as heartbreakingly as Minho. Maybe it was the rarity of his tears that made it sad, or perhaps it was just the look on his face - the fear and pain magnified in his eyes. Whatever it was though, Han would rather die than witness Minho cry.

Another sob broke out, though Minho was trying his hardest to hold it in. He curled up in the tight space between the toilet and the wall, and as disgusting as he would claim it was in his right mind, he seemed to be as content as currently possible in the little corner.

"Oh, Lino." Chan cooed, stepping closer to the younger.

"No!" Minho snapped. "Don't... don't look. I need space. Please."

Chan sighed, deflating, as he turned his back to Minho. Changbin wrapped and arm around Chan's shoulders. There was nothing they could do when Minho needed space. He'd told them multiple times that he didn't like people watching him when he cried, even his members... even his best friend. So, respectfully, Han turned his back, forced into the worst torture the world could produce for him - listening to Minho's sobs and knowing that the best thing he could do was keep his back turned.

Han really just hoped it was the shock of the incident and not pain that had Minho crying like that. Or maybe it was exhaustion from the airplane. If he was playing the proper version of "is Minho okay?" what questions would he ask?

Is it stress for the awards ceremony, hyung? Are you exhausted watching Jeongin to make sure he's eating every meal? Are you just scared you hurt yourself worse than you really did? Or did you actually hurt yourself badly and this was all just pain? - Han bit his lip as he felt his eyes brim with tears. - Don't cry, Han Jisung, this isn't about you. If you cry, you're just attention seeking. This is about Minho. So, he swallowed the lump in his throat and took a deep breath to keep it down.

The sobbing suddenly went silent and that was almost worse. Chan was quick to ask, "You okay, Lino?"

"I think..." Minho's voice was flat, completely devoid of any emotion other than pure shock. "I think I need to go to a doctor." All of 3Racha immediately spun around.

Minho held his right hand out, eyes glued to it. Han saw why. He was glad they were in a bathroom because he felt like he might throw-up. The bone... He could see it in Minho's hand, it pressed outwards, creating a lump in the back of his hand.

Even Changbin gagged at the sight, but Minho's eyes were locked on the injury, his mouth parted slightly as if he couldn't believe it was his own hand. "Hyung, I think I need a hospital." He finally managed, lifting his eyes to meet Chan's.

Han admired Chan's stomach of steel and ability to stay calm under pressure. Aside from the tight clench of his jaw and the way his eyes flickered from Minho's face to the wound, he seemed completely calm. That's why he's the leader. He crossed the bathroom in two steps, kneeling in front of Minho in his hiding spot and took Minho's wrist, pulling his hand to rest it on his knee. It cupped it perfectly, creating the perfect shape to make for the least amount of pain. Though shock seemed to outweigh the pain currently. "Hyung." Minho said numbly, staring at Chan for an answer. The dancer had never looked so lost before; Han wanted to wrap him in the tightest hug and hide him away forever.

"Hyung, it..." He gulped, blinking rapidly as if trying to comprehend what was happening. "Hyung, it hurts. It really hurts." The shock shattered and in a matter of a millisecond the numb expression on the dancer's face broke into a look of absolute terror. And despite being mere inches from the leader, he cried, the tears unable to be contained anymore. "This can't be happening. How did this... Hyung we have to... the performance... I- I can't just... oh my god, it hurts. Hyung, please, this can't be happening." He squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his teeth and hissing out a breath. Han almost preferred the shock, as terrifying as it was to see. This, though, this was the worst thing in the world.

Even Chan wasn't immune. His lower lip trembled as he reached a shaking hand out to lay it on the dancer's bowed head. "Don't think about the performance." His voice was so strained, he sounded seconds from sobbing himself.

"It hurts. What if I can't dance? It really hurts, hyung."

"I know, Lino. It's gonna hurt pretty bad, bud."

"Please, you've gotta make it stop. I have to dance. Please, hyung." Minho whimpered, his breath stuttering as he tried to suck air back in.

"We will. We will, bud. Just breathe." Chan assured him, massaging his scalp. He turned his head back towards Han and Changbin. Han could see the tears brimming in the leader's eyes and his heartrate spiked. If Chan was scared, then he should be terrified. But the leader took a deep breath and cleared his throat before saying, "Do either of you have your phones?"

Han patted his pockets, but he only found his keycard. Fortunately, though, Changbin pulled out his phone, and held it up from the leader to see. "Good... Okay, good." Chan adjusted the way his was squatting on the floor, one hand still in Lee Know's hair, playing with the knots and tangles as he thought through the course of action. "Binnie, can you call a manager to come down here? And text Hyunjin to keep the boys up in their rooms."

Changbin nodded, and quickly started typing his messages.

Han watched as tears silently streamed down the dancer's face. He was useless standing in the corner doing nothing, but he also didn't trust himself to step closer. Minho was already breaking down in front of their leader, and if Chan couldn't hold him together, what chance did Han have? None. I have no chance at all. I'm about as useless as a box of rocks right now.

"Done." Changbin blurted, pocketing his phone.

"No." Lee Know whimpered. "No, I don't need a manager."

Han understood immediately. Bringing a manager into this was almost a guarantee something about the performance was going to change tomorrow. But his hand... what else were they supposed to do?

"Lino, we need to get a manager involved. You need to go to the hospital; we can't fix this here." Chan explained, softly scratching the younger's scalp.

It must have gone completely over Minho's head. A sob broke through, and he gasped in a breath right after. "I don't want them to see. Please. I don't want them to see. It hurts."

Han's chest tightened. "Minho hyung, if you want to make it stop hurting, they need to see." He stepped back towards the door, waiting for their manager's arrival.

"No. I don't want to go to the hospital anymore. I want to go to bed." Minho sniffled, lifting his head to look pleadingly at his only hyung. The look in his eyes almost got Chan to say yes. Almost. But as much as it hurt to shake his head, he knew it was for Minho's own good. At the rejection, more tears escaped Minho's eyes and slid down his cheeks. With his uninjured hand, he roughly wiped them away, now resigned to making himself appear fine in front of people who weren't the members.

Chan kept rubbing his head as they waited for the manager to arrive. Changbin's message must have gotten their attention, because they didn't have to wait long before Han heard a knock on the door. He yanked it open, revealing their manager, his face hard as he stepped in.

"What the hell happened, Bang Chan?" The man asked, crossing his arms, though Han could see the concern in his eyes.

"We were in the gym." Chan began. "The weights were old and broken, and one broke and fell on Lino's hand. He needs to go to the hospital."

"Let me see." The manager said, leaning over the leader to peer down at Minho.

Chan angled his body out of the way, though he kept Minho's hand on his knee. It took .02 seconds for the manager's face to go white. "Yep. Hospital it is." He turned around, pulling his phone out, and texted someone, likely their driver. He nodded after a moment. "Alright, van's out front. Let's go."

Han grabbed the water bottles again and followed their manager out of the bathroom. Changbin grabbed some toilet paper as Minho and Chan stood up. Moving his hand off of Chan's knee brought a fresh wave of pain to the dancer, and he sucked in a breath, squeezing his eyes shut to stop any and all tears from falling. "Breathe through it, Lino." Chan instructed, guiding Minho's arm across his chest to rest on his left shoulder - the best angle for his hand. "In through your nose, out through your mouth."

"Here." Changbin offered, folding up the toilet paper he'd grabbed and dabbing at Minho's wet cheeks.

"Thanks." Lee Know whispered.

"It's the least I can do for a dropping a 52lbs weight on your hand while you were napping." Changbin chuckled, dropping the tissues in the garbage can before heading out of the bathroom.

"I wasn't napping, Bin, I was stretching."

"Really? Looked like napping to me."

"Because you weren't looking at me. You were busy admiring yourself in the mirror."

"How did you know I was doing that? Were you watching me?"

"I was trying to figure out who the weird guy with the sweat stains in his armpits was." Minho smirked at the huff Changbin gave at that response. They kept bickering all the way to the car where Changbin and Chan hoisted the dancer up into the van. They were about to follow and sit beside him, but Han had outsmarted them and gone to the other side to slip in. With Minho pressed against the window, Han got the middle and Changbin sat beside him. Chan rolled his eyes and climbed into the back while the driver and manager took the front.

"You don't have to come with me, you know." Minho spoke up when the engine started. "It's your day off."

"You kidding me?" Han raised his eyebrows. "No way am I leaving you behind. I'm sticking close to you, hyung. Who else will protect you from random sweat stained Gymbros and their 52lbs weights raining from the sky?"

"Okay, enough with the sweat stains?" Changbin huffed.

"No." Han smirked. "Never enough with the sweat stains."

"But seriously." Minho tried again when the car started moving. "You don't have to stay."

Chan was the one who spoke up this time, releasing a breathy laugh as he reached into their row and threaded his fingers through Minho's hair, resuming his massage. "I'm gonna stay, Lino. We're all gonna stay. In this group, no one gets left behind."

I wonder if the same goes for me. Han thought, as he grabbed the dancer's good hand and squeezed it. I wonder if they would cling so close to me when I need it.

Of course they would, you know that, Jisung.

But... do I?

Yes.

...Okay.

Chapter Text

Han's leg bounced anxiously as he sat in the urgent care center. Their manager was on the phone with some higher ups in the company, Changbin looked ready to punch a wall, and Chan was texting Felix who had flipped out when he found out that they went to the hospital. Minho was... just coming back from his x-ray. Han's eyes shot up to the door as it opened to allow the older member inside, his hand on an ice pack, pressed lightly against it by the nurse walking him inside.

"So?" The manager quickly asked, taking his phone away from his ear for the first time since they got to the hospital.

"I'll allow the radiologists to study the image and get back to you in just a couple minutes." The nurse answered, walking Minho to the bed and letting him set down. He didn't kick his legs up though, simply sitting on the side, his feet dangling over the floor. Han never realized how small and vulnerable Minho could look.

"Well, it's obvious that it's broken." The manager hissed.

"It could be dislocated." The nurse answered, her tone calm, but a slight warning behind her expression. "We need to be patient." She pet Minho's head gently and oddly enough he didn't shy away from the touch. Whatever vibes the nurse was giving off, Minho was responding perfectly.

The nurse smiled softly at him. "Do you need anything? Water? I can administer a little more pain medicine if you'd like."

"No. No thank you." Minho shook his head.

The nurse nodded and looked up at the manager then over at Chan. "If he needs anything, don't hesitate to call. It's a pretty lazy afternoon here so you're not bothering anyone."

"Thank you." Chan bowed. The woman left. Immediately the leader was up, standing in front of his injured member and resuming the light head patting the nurse had done. "You doing alright, mate? I know x-ray techs can move you around a lot. You okay?"

"Yeah, it wasn't so bad." Minho lifted his hand slightly, nudging Chan's hand. The eldest started massaging his scalp gently. "I liked the nurse. She reminds me of my aunt."

"You're lucky they had a Korean on staff." The manager sighed, ending another phone call. "Things could have gotten messy if none of them spoke Korean to you."

"We could translate. It's not a big deal. I'm glad you like her though." Chan shrugged, helping Minho situate the ice pack on his lap while moving his hand as little as possible.

The gentle fussing over him made Han melt - Minho never let them fuss over him unless he was completely useless to prevent it. He's in a lot more pain than he's letting on. He should have asked that nurse for more pain relievers. Han was about to open his mouth to recommend it when the door opened and someone new came in. She looked American, Han picked out the name Stephanie on her nametag.

"Hey, I'm the P.A. here, just got the x-rays reviewed." Stephanie said, her voice thick with an accent Han didn't know. Western? She sounded like she was from Texas. It was a friendly sound, and Han was slightly relieved.

"That was fast." Changbin spoke up in Korean.

"The nurse did say it's a lazy day." Chan shrugged, glancing back at the P.A. and nodding at her. "G'day."

"Are you his translator?" Stephanie asked, pulling open her laptop which was decorated in childish stickers from Hello Kitty to Baby Shark.

"Nah, but I can act as one." The leader answered.

"Okay good." Stephanie nodded and clicked on the laptop a few times before turning the screen to face the rest of the boys, mostly for Minho and Chan, but their manager, Changbin and Han leaned in too. "Good news is that it's not broken."

Chan whispered the translation quickly to Minho.

"The not so good news is that your third metacarpal is dislocated on the proximal end."

Chan licked his lips hesitantly and managed to say, "It's dislocated." He chose to abandon the medical lingo and that made Han smile softly.

"We can set it pretty easily and send you on your way with some pain meds, but we need your consent."

Chan translated that easily and stayed watching Lee Know stare at the x-ray on the screen. Han could see the gears turning in his head, but it was an easy answer.

Say yes, hyung. Just say yes and it's all over.

"Okay." Minho spoke up, though his voice was incredibly soft.

"Okay." Stephanie nodded, closing the laptop screen. "I'll grab the doctor and the nurse that was with you, and they'll get you all set up." She smiled at Chan who translated it and turned to leave the room. "Nice meeting you, boys."

Han sighed; this was a lot easier than he thought it would be. All they had to do was set Minho's hand and he'd be fine. It almost couldn't have been better.

"Hey, it's okay, bud." Han's moment of relief was broken when he glanced over at Chan and Lee Know. The younger had his head pressed against Chan's stomach, his hand lying limply on his thigh. Chan carefully raked fingers through his hair.

"Alright." The manager spoke up. "Management said we're not going to release a statement until after the awards tomorrow."

"But then that means..." Changbin began but didn't even need to finish.

"Yes, he'll still dance."

"But he's hurt!" Han gasped, jumping to his feet.

"Don't argue this, boys. We can't change the performance."

Han and Changbin stared desperately at Chan. But he either didn't feel like dealing with the issue at the current moment or was too invested in petting Minho's hair that he didn't even notice. Han assumed it was the latter.

Defeated, Han sat down and rubbed at his forehead. This was turning out to be a nightmare. The week had been going too well, he knew something was bound to upset that. Things never worked out well for long. The door opened to the room again and in walked the Korean nurse from earlier accompanied by an older middle-aged doctor, and a younger girl - Han assumed she was in her residency training. And being a lazy afternoon for the hospital, Minho's dislocated bone was probably the most exciting thing to see.

"Hello again." The Korean nurse greeted Minho gently, stepping up in front of him while Chan backed off. Minho took a deep breath and bowed his head to the woman. "So, you dislocated your hand then? That will be a fun story to tell your family and friends."

Minho exhaled amusedly through his nose but didn't give much more of a reaction. Han knew that that little response though was a miracle. That nurse must be the spitting image of his aunt if he was this comfortable with her already. Count the little blessings.

"Hello, Minho." The male doctor said. "My name is Dr. Abel, I'm going to set your hand." His English was so accented that Han wasn't sure if he'd heard him right. Chan translated it for Minho, though in another setting, the younger would probably have been able to understand for himself.

"This is Clara. She's our current resident. Are you alright if she stays?" The younger girl smiled and waved at Minho. Whether he understood what was said or not, he nodded.

"Alright, let's see that hand." The doctor, as gently as possible, lifted Minho's right hand, holding it carefully in his own. But even the slight movement had the dancer hissing through his teeth. Han watched his good hand fist the medical paper covering the chair, it crinkled loudly in his grasp and Han froze. That was just the reaction from moving his hand. They hadn't even attempted to set it yet.

Changbin noticed him stiffen, taking the seat beside the younger rapper and slipping his arm over his shoulders. He set his other hand on Han's knee, rubbing small circles with his thumb. "He's gonna be okay, Jisungie. You don't have to watch."

"I..." Han lowered his gaze to his shoes and bit his lip. He wanted to be there for Minho, but normally Minho wanted to be alone if he was hurting. This was new. New sucked sometimes. And this was definitely one of those times.

"Minho." The Korean nurse spoke up. "The doctor is going to carefully prod around to feel the bone, okay?"

"Mm." Minho attempted to answer. With the first gentle touch, his eyes squeezed shut and he tightened his hold on the paper. It only got worse from there.

Each new movement got Minho's eyes watering, but he would not cry. Not here, not now. He clenched every muscle in his body, attempting to ride out the pain, but it wasn't very effective. The tightness made his head spin. The pain was too much, they hadn't even tried setting it yet. "Hyung." He whispered, the word pulled out involuntarily from the deepest parts of his mind. He'd never show weakness willingly, but it hurt so bad, he wasn't sure how much longer he could fake being alright. He needed his friend - his brother.

"I'm right here, bud." Chan answered, stepping back up to the dancer's side. Minho's good hand shot out and gripped the leader's wrist tightly. He knew he was probably hurting the elder, but Chan didn't say a word of complaint.

Han felt absolute useless. What good was he to Minho when just looking at the dancer's hand made his stomach clench painfully? He wasn't a very good friend if the best he could offer was staring at the floor and seeking the comfort of another member. Maybe on top of being chubby I'm not a good friend...

"Alright, I've got the position." The doctor spoke up, breaking the tense silence.

"Okay, Minho." The Korean nurse began. "He's going to set it now."

"Mm." Lee Know peeled his eyes open to observe the way the doctor's hand were wrapped tightly around his hand, thumbs poised over the lump ready to push it back into place. Oh, he felt so sick. He couldn't do this. He was going to throw up if they tried to do this.

"Ready?" The doctor asked.

Minho panicked, though he tried to hide it. He couldn't hide the way his eyes widened though and the fact that he immediately blurted. "No! Wait!" He swallowed, hesitantly scanning the room to find all eyes - minus Han - were on him. He turned his gaze back to his injured hand. This was going to hurt... a lot. "I'm sorry. I'm just... I need a moment."

"Take your time. We'll wait." The Korean nurse said gently, patting his knee.

Oh, he really didn't want to do this. He'd much rather be alone in his hotel room, dealing with this on his own. No one needed to see the way he felt like he was about to completely break down in sobs again. Or the way he was seconds from gagging and/or passing out. He squeezed Chan's wrist tightly, trying to pull himself away from the nausea and dizziness lapping up against him.

And Chan, being the ever-attentive leader he was, knew his place and quickly took it, sitting beside Minho and wrapping his spare arm around the dancer's shoulders. "It'll be over really quickly, Lino. And then you'll feel a ton better."

"I need space." Minho whispered, staring at his hand cradled in the doctor's gloved hands.

"As soon as this is done, we'll go back to the hotel, and you'll have all day." Chan offered, rubbing the dancer's shoulder.

But Chan didn't get it. Of course, he didn't. How was he supposed to? Minho took a deep breath, his eyes completely locked on the injury and the more he stared at it, the worse the nausea and vertigo got. "Hyung, I think I'm gonna throw up."

The leader must have figured it out through those cues. He gently lifted his hand from Minho's shoulder and guided the dancer's head to rest against his neck, turning the younger's eyes away from the injury and hiding his face in his black t-shirt. "Don't look, bud. Just... just close your eyes, Lino. I've gotcha."

"I'm going to throw up." Minho whispered against Chan's neck.

"Yep." Chan nodded, his chin tickled by the younger's hair. "The nurse has a pan, so if you need to throw up, just do it."

"I don't want to throw up. I feel so... so... I don't even know."

"It's okay, Lino. As soon as we get this bone set, you'll feel a tone better though. Trust me. You just have to ride this out for a little bit, yeah? It'll only take a second, I promise."

"Hyung, I don't wanna throw up."

"Shh, I know you don't. I know." He pet Minho's hair, cooing softly into his ear as he held him tighter. His wrist was killing him from where the younger was gripping him, but he could ignore that for now. If that helped Minho through it, Chan would happily break his wrist to take even a small bit of the pain away.

"Okay. Do it. Just do it." Minho hissed, pushing his face further into Chan's neck.

"Ready?" The nurse said, nodding at the doctor.

Han wasn't ready. He was not ready for the agonized scream that was pulled from his friend's lips. Watching Jeongin passing out was bad, this was impossibly worse. The member who hid his pain at all costs openly screaming shattered Han's heart. He reached for Changbin's hand on his knee and squeezed it, keeping his eyes on the floor.

"Good job, kid." The doctor praised, holding Minho's hand still, but there was no visible lump.

"Hyung..." Minho breathed, head rolling off the leader's shoulder and limply banging against his chest.

"Oh, hey!" Chan exclaimed, feeling the younger go completely limp in his arms.

The nurse was quick to help, placing her hand on the dancer's chest to keep him from falling forward. "Lay him back." She instructed, and Chan attempted to maneuver the boy fully onto the bed. She took the pillow and propped his feet up, then moved to clip a pulse oximeter onto his finger.

"Vasovagal?" The resident, Clara, asked, leaning over the unconscious boy.

"Yep." The doctor and nurse answered in unison.

"Chan hyung, what's vasovagal mean?" Changbin asked, the word awkward in his mouth.

"Stress." Chan answered, looking up at the nurse to be sure he was right. She didn't say anything, so he continued. "It's his body's response to pain. There's nothing wrong, he just passed out because it hurt. He's okay..." He slipped off Minho's bed but kept his limp hand in his own much stronger hand.

Han could feel the fear being emitted from the leader, despite Chan's efforts at hiding it. He knew that Chan had made a deal with himself that he'd always hold it together, always keep the tears back, always act okay until the others followed him and believed it was okay. Han knew exactly how Chan worked, as heartbreaking as it was. He knew Chan would willing - happily - bottle-up every feeling until he was dying inside just to spare them a little pain. He knew Chan would die for them. Sometimes, he didn't like that thought, but that didn't change it from being true.

Already, Minho was coming back around though. The Korean nurse had grabbed an ice pack and set it on his forehead while the doctor manipulated his hand. Though, judging by his lack of a pained response, the bone had been correctly set back into place.

"Mm, hyung?"

"Hey, Lino."

"Where... what... Hyung?"

Chan chuckled anxiously, looking to the nurse for help.

"What's your name?" The Korean nurse asked, leaning over to be in Minho's eyesight, though his eyes were just slits.

"Name... Lee Know... Minho."

"How old are you?"

"Mm, 25."

"Who is this holding your hand?"

Minho's eyes sluggishly moved over to his leader who smiled down at him. "Channie."

"Hi, Lino."

"Hyung, can I have space now?"

Chan laughed heartily, and it elicited a few chuckles from Changbin and Han, mostly just from relief though. "Yeah, bud, you can have some space now."

Han should have gone with Hyunjin when he went to the bathroom. He had to go so badly now and any minute he was sure he was going to explode. But it wasn't just the fact that he needed to use the restroom, it was the fact that he needed to get away from the crowd. The awards ceremony was boring as usual, he'd zoned out during most of it, but he felt on edge to say the least. After performing and nearly having a heart attack every time Minho winced, Han could feel thousands of eyes on him - millions if he could those watching through the screen - which he did. He knew they weren't watching him while he was sitting at the Stray Kids table, but he could still feel them. Since when did people watching him make him feel like his skin was crawling? He chalked it up to stress from Minho's injury. He was the one with the issues, not Han; Han was fine.

"I'm going to the bathroom." Seungmin spoke up, waking Han from his thoughts. "Anyone wanna join?"

"What? You gonna have a party in there?" Changbin chuckled, elbowing Seungmin as he stood up.

"I'll go!" Han blurted, jumping to his feet.

"Be quick you two." Chan called to them.

"Don't rush my bladder." Han giggled, bursting into more laughter as Minho shoved his arm and snapped at him to go - jokingly of course.

Han and Seungmin hurried away from the table, ready to go join Hyunjin in their bathroom expedition. "Thank goodness for you, Min, I was about to explode back there."

Seungmin smiled and hummed, his eyes locked on the stage as they walked around the exterior of the tables. "Looks like they're announcing Best Creator."

Han turned his head and watched the announcer as he talked then called out the group that won. "Oh, cool, it's 3Racha."

"HYUNG!" Seungmin shrieked. "You're 3Racha!"

"OH!" Han and Seungmin bolted across the room towards the other boys.

Walking up to that stage with Chan and Changbin was a miracle. Of course, it would have been better if he didn't have to go to the bathroom so badly. But after years of work, it had finally paid off and Han couldn't be happier. At least, he shouldn't be able to be happier. But standing up there as Chan gave his speech, Han felt... off.

I should be more grateful for this award. Why do I just want to go sit down with the members right now? Maybe it's just nerves... or the fact that I have to pee so bad. Yeah, I'm just nervous, that's it.

But the feeling of thousands of eyes peering into him felt a bit too much. He wiggled his toes in his shoes to fidget and his eyes zoned out on the members jokingly booing 3Racha from their table. He wanted to just be beside them, not up here.

I'm not better than them. We should all be up here. Maybe then that would get some of the attention away from me. What's wrong with me? I've never had problems with being on stage with thousands of fans watching before? What's different? Why now?

Anxiety.

No. Not anxiety. You're fat, Han Jisung. You'd feel better, so much happier up here if you were just a little bit skinnier.

Why? I'm literally receiving an award for my music, I did it - we did it. This is it. I should be happiest right now just the way it is.

But you're fat, Han Jisung. So fat.

No. I know I'm not fat.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Okay.

Han shook his head to knock the thoughts out and made a peace sign at the camera, offering a pained - I'm anxious and I have to pee - smile to it. Hopefully it covered up his momentary lapse of attention. Even if it did cover it on the outside, it still stuck on the inside.

Chapter Text

135lbs.

The numbers that blinked up at him couldn't have been more devastating. He'd gained three pounds. Even with the diet he'd been doing. It hadn't worked.

I'm fat.

He jumped off the scale quickly, glancing around the hotel bathroom like someone would be there to see the weight gain. The numbers humiliated him. He doubted the other members weighed as much as he did. And if they only knew the number that blinked on the scale they'd probably be disgusted.

No, they wouldn't. They don't care how much you weigh; they love you regardless.

Just because they love you, doesn't mean they don't still think you're fat.

The diet wasn't working. That was pretty obvious. He needed a new diet. He couldn't go back to that dietician right now while they're still in the Philippines another day, but perhaps he could find something online that would work for a while.

He quickly grabbed his toothbrush and sat on the edge of the bathtub, pulling his phone out. He couldn't go outside and look it up in his room, Felix - who he was rooming with today - would probably ask too many questions about why he wanted a new diet. Especially with his hesitancy to help Jeongin earlier, Han knew Felix wouldn't let anything pass him by this time.

But Felix doesn't need to be concerned. It's just a diet for a few days until I can lose a little more weight.

He opened the internet on his phone and stared at google for a few seconds. What kind of diet did he need? He didn't really know much about diets since he'd been pretty successful at avoiding them for years. Maybe he should just look up what some other idols have done. Maybe someone he really looked up to.

He typed in "Jihyo Twice weight loss diet" and waited as the page loaded. Lots of results came up, including pictures of the girl before and after debut, as well as current pictures. She was stunning, every part of her was beautiful. Her weight loss journey was the ideal.

He found the most reliable looking article and clicked it, scrolling through the description explaining that Jihyo was the leader of Twice, and some of her accomplishments. It finally came to her diet.

Han smiled at the first sentence stating that Jihyo hated dieting. He hated dieting too - used to at least. Now he was ready. He kept reading and his eyes widened. "Jihyo would eat anything she wanted to between 5 and 6pm. That way she didn't have to count calories or cut out foods she wanted to eat."

Genius. Absolutely genius! And 5 to 6 is perfect because then I can still eat dinner with the members and they won't think anything is up. Not that anything is up, it's just a diet, we all have them.

The next few minutes, Han spent scrolling through pictures of Jihyo before switching to look at pictures of himself. The little voice in his head didn't sound so little right now. It was loud, excited.

See that fat right there on your legs? You're going to lose that weight soon with this diet. You're going to be skinny and pretty.

See the fat on your arms? That'll be gone too with this diet.

You're going to lose weight and it's going to be amazing.

And if you don't... you'll be fat and ugly forever.

Since when did ugly get added into the mix? I thought this was just weight loss.

Why stop there? Besides, it was never just about the fat. Have you really looked at yourself lately? Even JYP is prettier than you.

Ouch.

Han dragged his gaze up to his reflection in the mirror. There was a lot that wasn't attractive. His cheeks were chubby just like his dance teacher said, but his hair was messy, his eyes were puffy, his lips were weirdly shaped, his ears looked funny, his chin was strange, his neck wasn't hot or sexy like most other idols' necks were.

I am ugly. I'm fat and ugly.

The knock that sounded on the door startled Jisung so badly he dropped his phone. "What?" He blurted, a little too harshly, but his nerves had been shot for a few seconds.

"What's taking so long, hyung?" Felix's deep voice spoke from the other side of the door. "I want to brush my teeth and wash up so I can sleep."

"Give me a minute."

"Sixty. Fifty-nine."

"Very funny, Felix."

"Fifty-eight."

"Alright!" Han grabbed his phone, quickly clearing his search history before pocketing it and setting his toothbrush down on the counter. He yanked the door open and found Felix leaning against the wall on the other side, scrolling through Instagram. The younger's eyes met his and he smiled, holding his phone up for the rapper to see.

"Han, you're a meme." He said in English.

A video of him and Seungmin walking to the bathroom during AAA played on the screen and then he listened to 3Racha get called and watched as they ran back across the venue. He rolled his eyes, "I am a meme. I've completed my life goal then." He playfully shoved Felix out of the way and walked over to his bed while Felix chuckled warmly and disappeared into the bathroom.

Han flopped down onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. This diet was going to be perfect; he couldn't wait to start. He was almost more excited about the diet than he had been about winning those awards tonight at AAA.

Is that wrong?

No, of course it's not wrong. You're perfectly fine, Han Jisung. You're just fat and ugly.

Maybe... yeah, maybe.

But this diet will help.

Okay.

"Oh, thank goodness we're back." Hyunjin sighed, plopping down onto their couch, tipping his head back to lay on the headrest. "The flight wasn't even that long but I'm sore everywhere."

Han chuckled and shoved Hyunjin to the side so he could plop down beside him. "I know what you mean. Where's Felix when you need him?"

"You two can't just use Felix for massages whenever you want." Changbin scolded, though he smiled through it.

"Really?" Hyunjin asked, raising his eyebrows. "I thought that's why he joined the group."

Chan locked the door and set the keys on the hook, turning around to face his roommates. "Alright, Hyunjin, you have a modeling photoshoot for Versace today, so you get the shower first. Hannie, Bin, we have a 3Racha meeting in about two hours."

"We literally just got back, and I'm exhausted!" Han exclaimed, shooting to his feet.

Chan shrugged. "That's the industry, mate. There's nothing we can do. You can go take a quick nap if you want to though; I'll wake you up in half an hour."

Han sighed, completely deflating. "Yeah, okay. Don't let me sleep too long." He trudged to his room that he shared with Hyunjin and kicked his sneakers off, flopping down onto the bed and hugging himself tightly.

I'm hungry. He thought, rolling his eyes. But of course I'm hungry. I'm fat, how could I not be hungry? I'm used to eating way too much in a day. This is good. I should be feeling this way. It means I'm succeeding.

He lifted his head, shaking it to get his brown hair out of his eyes as he peered over at the clock on the nightstand. 1:02pm. Four hours and he could go eat. He'd successfully avoided breakfast because a lot of the members were currently intermittent fasting so that was an easy one to get away with. Lunch was even easier. With all the traveling they were doing, he was pretty sure none of them had eaten lunch - the only thought on their minds were to get back to Seoul in time for their schedules. When the others had taken the time in the car to eat some snacks, Han feigned sleep, and no one questioned it.

Now he wasn't just tired, he had a headache. Small, barely there, but he so rarely got headaches it was a shock to feel it. He squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to get himself to sleep. The soft padding of Hyunjin's feet down the hallway towards the bathroom and the gentle hum of a conversation between Chan and Changbin lulled him off to a somewhat sleeping phase. He was conscious, just barely, enough that he could still hear Chan and Changbin and the shower running, but not enough that he could feel any part of his body. Perfectly peaceful - sleeping was wonderful.

Time passed quickly in that semi-conscious state, and before he'd even realized it, he heard his door creak open. It barely woke him more than he already was, so he just kept his eyes closed, breath even and slow. Feet padded against the hardwood floor until he could feel someone leaning over him.

"Hannie." Chan's gentle voice spoke above him. He felt his warm hand rub his hip, pulling him a bit further away from the sleep he was so close to fully falling into. "Hannie, it's been thirty minutes."

Jisung groaned, burying his face further into the pillow. "Five more minutes."

Chan chuckled softly above him. "Okay, five minutes, and then you have to get up." He felt the hand leave his hip and sighed contentedly. Good, he didn't want to get up and face the day anyways. It felt like too much to go to that meeting. He'd much rather stay in bed.

"Is he getting up?" Changbin asked from the doorway.

"I'll let him sleep a little longer. I don't think he slept at all on the plane, and he seemed a little restless when he was trying to sleep in the car." Chan answered quietly once he'd made it back to the doorway.

Changbin hummed amusedly. "The real reason is that you just can't say no to him, right?"

Han didn't hear Chan's reply. The door creaked shut and he was pulled back into that semi-conscious unthinking state. He didn't get to stay that way for long. Changbin chose to wake him up this time. And as sweet and gentle Changbin can be, waking people up was not a time he chose to be "nice". "Yah, Jisung, wake up! You've had five minutes!" He hollered from the doorway after basically breaking the door down.

Han startled and jerked his head up. "Geez, hyung, you didn't have to wake up all of Korea."

"It was effective though." Changbin pointed out, leaving the doorway to head down the hallway.

Han groaned and threw his head back onto his pillow. "You better not be going back to sleep, Jisungie!" The older rapper called down the hallway and Han glared at the empty doorway. As much as he loved Changbin, sometimes he really didn't like him.

The meeting was as boring as they always were.

Han drummed his fingers on the table, zoning out on the wall opposite him. There was an important conversation going on, and honestly, he was trying to pay attention. But they really weren't asking for his input - he'd learned that during 3Racha meetings, the staff really meant 3Racha minus their maknae. He felt a little worthless sitting there as Chan and Changbin led the meeting with the staff. He felt... alienated.

But that gave him the chance to daydream. And daydream he did. Fantasies played out in his head of being skinny and attractive. He could do so much more for the group with this new diet he was starting. They'd probably start asking for his input during these meetings and all their meetings in general - he wouldn't be so worthless anymore. He just had to stick with that little, tiny diet for a short time, and everything would be perfect.

You just can't tell anyone about it, Jisung. After Jeongin, they're probably all still concerned. And with Minho hyung injured, their nerves are shot. Don't add to their stress. Besides, there's nothing to worry about. I won't pass out like Innie; he had an eating disorder - that's totally different. If I feel sick, I'll just eat! I'm totally fine. I can't wait to lose weight! I just have to stay silent about it.

Chapter Text

He wasn't even hungry anymore. It had been nearly a week and by now he only started feeling hunger pains at 5 o'clock-ish. He'd eat dinner, maybe add a little something extra within the allotted hour, and then he'd lock himself in his bedroom and work on music.

He spent a lot of time in his room. He knew that. But it was fine, he enjoyed his own company. As much as he hated the way he looked, and hated the voice that constantly told him he was fat, he liked the privacy. It was safe. No one was going to come judge him... other than himself.

Hyunjin sat at the table, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram. There were a lot of comments about their performance at AAA, and even more memes about 3Racha winning the award. It had taken over his entire feed, but he didn't mind. Each meme and video just got funnier until he was smiling stupidly at his phone.

The device suddenly buzzed in his hand, and he glanced up at a banner to see a text from Seungmin. The preview of the message simply said: Hey hyung, are you at the dorm right now? Is...

He clicked the message and read the entirety of it.

Hey hyung, are you at the dorm right now? Is Jisung with you?

Hyunjin quickly shot him a thumbs up and waited as he saw Seungmin typing back.

His smile from watching the memes fell immediately.

Seungmin: Is he doing okay? He's seemed really distant lately, and I was going to talk to him about it over lunch, but he said he'd already eaten with you and Felix. So, I decided not to push it. Maybe I'm being paranoid but after Jeongin...

Hyunjin stared at the message for several seconds, trying to figure out how to respond. His fingers decided what to say faster than his brain though.

Jisung didn't eat lunch with me.

Seungmin must have had the same moment of hesitation because it was a full thirty seconds before the typing message popped up. A simple response saying: Did he not eat then?

He ate dinner with us. Hyunjin quickly replied trying to ease Seungmin's nerves, though his mind was immediately racing. Did Jisung eat lunch at all today? Did he eat breakfast? Hyunjin just ate dinner with him, and he could see him actually chewing and swallowing. He even grabbed a banana afterwards. He was eating, that was certain. But how much?

I'll talk to him. He quickly added to Seungmin and closed the phone after receiving a thumbs up.

Hyunjin felt really out of his element as he padded down the hallway to his room with Jisung. He'd lived with Han for years, roomed with him for about half of that time, and while in their pre-debut they weren't the best of friends - or friends at all - Hyunjin would now easily say that he loved Jisung. Which is why he found himself awkwardly knocking on their door even though he wanted to just go back to scrolling on his phone.

There was no response and Hyunjin sighed, pushing the door open. Lately, Han had his headphones on 24/7. He used to sit on the couch and listen to the music he was working on full blast or sing to Twice in the shower. Now he had his headphones on even when he sat alone in his room. Jisung's eyes shot up from his laptop screen to Hyunjin and a smile painted his face.

"Hey hyung." Han called way too loudly. The music in his ears was probably blasting through his skull.

"Hey, Ji." Hyunjin came over and sat on his side of the bed, kicking his feet up and folding his hands behind his head as he laid down. On the ceiling above them were pictures of him and Jisung. Polaroids ranging from their survival show days to a week ago. One caught his eye: a picture of Jisung with a lollipop in his mouth. Hyunjin remembered taking the picture. They'd been walking through New York when Changbin bought them all lollipops. As they walked, Hyunjin raised his camera and called Jisung's name. The younger had whipped around, a surprised look on his face, and that's when he clicked the camera. He nudged Jisung's leg with his, getting the rapper to take his headphones off. "You're really photogenic, you know."

"Oh." Jisung's eyes widened like the compliment shocked him. "Thanks, hyung. You're really photogenic too. You could wear a trash bag and not shower for a week, and you'd still be the visual of Stray Kids."

Hyunjin chuckled. "I have a better fashion sense than that, Ji."

"Really?" Jisung's eyes studied the dancer's body from head to toe before nodding slowly. "Alright, hyung, whatever you need to tell yourself."

"You're a menace."

"Thanks. I try." Jisung glanced back at his laptop, tapping his finger on his leg as he raised his headphones back up to cover one ear.

Hyunjin watched him for a moment. Maybe the Jeongin incident had impacted both him and Seungmin more than they realized. Jisung looked completely fine. More than fine, he seemed perfectly happy tapping away as he bobbed his head to a beat. He shook his head; he was imagining things - Jisung was the happiest of all of them. Hyunjin rolled out of bed, heading towards the door. He completely missed the sad look the younger rapper gave him as he left.

The door clicked shut behind the dancer and Jisung sighed, clenching his hands into fists.

Alone again, Jisung. That's what you want though, isn't it? This is safe. When I'm alone, they won't see what they don't need to see.

He glanced back at his screen, the blank document that should hold his lyrics stared back at him. He slammed his laptop closed, a pang of anger running through him. "Useless, Jisung, you're useless." He hissed, running his hands through his hair. "Literally all you have to do is write a few lines, but you can't even manage that. You won a frickin award for heaven's sake, at least act like you deserve it."

You don't deserve it though.

You're probably right.

Not probably - I am right.

...Okay.

Jisung felt it. Oh, he felt it and it hurt. He'd noticed the way he felt weaker during dance practices, the way after only an hour he felt like he'd just gone through four hours of dancing. He felt it in the gym with Changbin. He spent less time jogging on the treadmill and more time walking - still his legs felt like jelly. If Changbin noticed the change, he didn't say anything. And Han almost wished he would say something. But the voice in his head quickly told him that if he wanted that, if he wanted to tell them he was struggling with dizziness and weakness that he was just attention seeking.

You're not doing this to be noticed, you're doing it for yourself. So, stop wishing someone would come in and rescue you, because you don't need rescuing. You're fine.

It wasn't until the 23rd of December when they had a huge practice for their Christmas performance that Jisung truly felt the weight of what he was doing. They were running through Battle Ground, which lead to Lalala and Megaverse. The back up dancers were there, each wearing a pair of sweatpants and black t-shirts. But even in the baggy clothing, Jisung was sure they were a ton skinnier than him. They were way more attractive. They could probably see their ribs poking out, and their stomaches sunken in. All Jisung had was a number on a scale that told him he'd dropped five pounds in 5 days. Good. Very good. But not good enough.

"Alright, let's run this again!" One of the instructor's called out and everyone resumed their positions. Han wanted the break to be longer. He felt light and heavy at the same time. Like his head was trying to float away but his body was trying to pull it back down. He was sweaty and uncomfortable. It wasn't the same satisfying workout sweat he usually got, it was the kind where he just felt hot and sticky and sick. He wasn't sick though, he knew that.

The music started and Han's body moved without his awareness. Everything happened without him being aware. He didn't even realize the song had ended until he realized the room was quiet and the thoughts in his head could be heard.

See that dancer next to you? He's so skinny and perfect. You're just fat and ugly.

Please. Shut up.

No.

Han missed the time the voices in his head would actually listen to his commands. When had they stopped listening? It had to be recent. But he's fine. Everything was okay.

"Good, that was really good." Their instructor began, stepping away from the stereo to stand in front of the group. "Felix, your facial expressions were spot on. If you perform like that in two days, I think you'll be golden. Jisung, I need a little more expression from you. Your moves are crisp, they look really good. But stage presence is lacking. I know you have good stage presence though, so can you go all out next run-through?"

"Oh yeah, of course. Sorry, I thought we were just blocking."

"That's alright. Let's start from the top." Everyone moved to get into their starting position and Han stared at the floor as he moved.

He hates your dancing. The voice in his head whispered... yelled... the voices had gotten louder recently. But he was fine.

He literally just said my moves were crisp. Where did you get that he hates my dancing?

He hates you.

He never said that.

He doesn't need to. He thinks you're fat and you suck at dancing. He hates you.

He said my cheeks were chubby and my stage presence was lacking. He doesn't hate me.

But you know who does hate you?

Han stared harder at the floor as the opening notes started playing. Before the music drowned out the voice, he could just hear it say: You. You hate yourself.

Everyone, including the backup dancers, jokingly collapsed to the floor at the end of the run through - Han, not so jokingly. He'd gone all out just as the instructor requested. He did everything and maybe a little more. The world was swaying, he felt like he was listing to the side despite lying on the cold dance floor. Even just the thought of dancing more made him feel sick. He wasn't sure he could move his limbs if he tried. He just wanted to lie there until he died.

"Take five." The dance instructor called out and everyone jumped up, energized by the promise of a break. While everyone either left the room to find the drinking fountain or grab their bottles in the room, Han stayed on the floor.

He tried. He seriously tried. But moving his legs was impossible. They ached, everything was spinning, and he felt like weights were holding him to the ground.

What's going on? I ate dinner yesterday like I always do. Sure, I've been feeling weak, but this is different. This isn't normal...

He could feel his heart pounding as the fear of what was happening started to take over. Was he sick? He knew what he was doing probably wasn't the healthiest, but it wasn't this bad. Only people with eating disorders got this bad, and he didn't have an eating disorder. He's fine.

"You coming, sleepyhead?" Minho chuckled from across the room, tauntingly shaking his water bottle.

Han wanted it so badly. Water would help. He was probably just dehydrated and that's why he felt so weak. That was a normal problem normal people faced. And he was a normal person without an eating disorder.

He licked his lips though his tongue felt dry. His hand twitched towards the water bottle and Minho, but that was about the extent of his movements.

What the hell is wrong with you, Jisung? Don't you dare pass out. You're fine!

"You okay, Hannie?" Minho asked, lowering the water bottle and raising his eyebrows at the young rapper.

Great. Thanks, hyung. Now everyone knows.

He could feel the members' eyes on him and especially feel Chan's. It took about a half a second for the leader to make his way across the floor to him, where he knelt down beside Han. "Hey, mate, what's up?"

"The ceiling." Jisung bit out. Wow, where did that irritation come from?

"Hilarious." Minho snapped from across the room.

"Thanks, I wasn't trying to be. I was just being honest."

"Since you're in the mood to be honest - how are you feeling, Ji?" Chan asked, smiling warmly down at Jisung.

Oh, he loved that smile. He wanted to just gush out his problems to Chan. But... that's attention seeking. He's not doing this for attention. He wants to look and feel better. That's all. So, he huffed out a breath and let his eyes lock on anything but the leader's face, opting to stare at his black t-shirt. "I'm really sore." That wasn't a lie. But it wasn't even the beginning of the truth.

"Need a massage?" Felix called from the black couch.

"No. I need to get up." Jisung sighed and tried to get his arms under him. He moved about an inch, arms shaking, before he gave up.

"How's that getting up going?" Chan asked, an amused smile tugging at his lips. But Han knew better, Chan was covering his concern with a smile. He had enough stress in one December to last a lifetime with Jeongin passing out and nearly starving, and Minho's injury.

We need to focus on this Christmas performance. Not on some dumb, useless rapper, who's ugly and fat and can't even stand up... wait, when did I start believing all of that?

"It's going great." Han snapped, irritation at the voice in his head leaking out into frustration with the leader.

"Need a hand?"

"I don't need your help. I just need a minute." Han closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. He needed to move. He had to move. They'll be concerned if he didn't. He couldn't concern them. He wasn't their burden. They needed to focus on making sure Minho wasn't hurting, or make sure that Jeongin was eating. Why didn't they realize that he was perfectly fine? He just needed to move. He was fine.

Move, Han Jisung! Now!

His eyes shot open and with a pained grunt, he quickly sat himself up.

Stars flooded his vision, and he reached out, his hand landing on something warm and soft. Maybe that rapid of movement had been a bad idea.

"You okay there, bud?" Chan asked, and Han felt a hand press against his chest to hold him up.

He blinked rapidly trying to clear his vision. "Huh? Yeah, I'm okay." Of course, I'm okay. I'm always okay. What would make him think I'm not okay? I'm okay.

"Your eyes went really out of focus there, Ji. You sure you're alright?"

Han nodded, glancing down at where he was fisting Chan's shirt in a death grip. That would probably explain why the leader thought he wasn't okay. He dropped the shirt like it had burned him and glanced around the room - it was still spinning he noted, but not as badly. It was bearable.

Han pushed himself to his feet before he was really ready and basically booked it blindly across the room to the black couch beside Felix. "A massage would be great, Lix." He blurted, his head falling back against his twin's chest, unable to look at the spinning room anymore.

Felix cluelessly looked at Chan. The leader just shrugged - not even he was sure what was going on. Han wasn't pale, he didn't slur his words, he wasn't going to pass out. But then again, something was up. It was like his body just had no energy left to give. Either he didn't eat enough, or he slept horribly. Both of which were true, but Jisung wouldn't even admit it to himself.

Felix gently pushed Han off his chest and laid his hands on the elder's shoulders, digging his fingers in and smiling at the contented hum he earned from Jisung. "You're really tight, Han hyung, have you been drinking enough water?"

"Probably not. No." Jisung sighed.

Lee Know was there in a second, offering the younger his water bottle. He hungrily gulped it and mumbled a thank you to the older member. Minho nodded and stayed glued to Jisung's side throughout the entire break as Felix rubbed his shoulders and neck.

Jisung dreaded the moment that the dance instructor called for them to start up practice again. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He wasn't sure what had just happened, all he knew was that he never wanted it to happen again. I'm really starting to feel this diet, I guess. But that's good. I'm losing weight. That's my goal. I'm fine.

"Alright, let's run through it again!" The dreaded words came, and Han found himself wishing to be alone in his bedroom.

The door to Han's room shutting was the only sound reverberating around the dorm. It was late. Dance practice went until midnight, and then their manager had a few notes for the boys before they were allowed to leave. All of this was completely normal though - they'd grown to expect late nights like this. What wasn't normal though was Han's reaction.

Hyunjin replayed the moment over in his mind:

"Hey boys, I know it's late, but I need to fill you in on a couple things real quick." Their manager had called to them just as they were packing up from their dance class.

"Oh." Han's eyes had widened when he glanced up from his bag. "I was just about to go buy something to eat from the vending machine."

"This will be quick, Jisung-ah."

"I'd be quick though too." He mumbled, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "We had a meeting before rehearsal. I thought we would be done for the day."

"Yes, but this is important."

"I want to buy something to eat. Can I please go do that?"

The rest of the boys just stood there awkwardly as Han stared back at the manager. It seemed that not even their manager knew how to react. Han had never demanded something of the higher ups before. Despite the fact that he was a pre-debut menace, he knew his place below the managers.

Chan cleared his throat. "Hannie, it can wait." He was not prepared for the glare he received from the younger rapper.

"I said I want to buy something to eat. Can I not go do that?"

"You can, hyung." Jeongin added, calmly. "After we talk. I'm sure it won't take more than a few minutes."

"Jeongin, you don't get it. I want to eat something." Han hissed through clenched teeth. Hyunjin felt like the tension in the room grew to where he could visibly see the air trembling. What was going on? Jisung never argues like this.

"Are you feeling alright, hyung?" Felix asked, setting his stuff down to approach his twin. "Are you feeling sick? You were off earlier."

"No, I'm fine. I just want to go eat something, but apparently I'm not allowed to do that." He shot a nasty look at their manager and Chan's expression hardened.

"Jisung, you need to apologize. I don't know what's going on with you, but you're acting out of line right now." Ever the leader. And ever the scary hyung. Hyunjin knew he would have cowered at the tone that Chan just used on Han, but Jisung stood his ground. Even worse, he glared at Chan, challenging him to an argument. An argument that Chan wasn't going to give him. The eldest stayed silent, arms crossed as he looked expectantly at the young rapper, waiting for an apology.

"Fine. I'm sorry. Happy?" Han spat, dropping his bag to the floor and turning to face their manager. "What is it you needed to say?"

"You can do better than that, Hannie." Chan pushed.

"Don't patronize me, hyung." Jisung nearly yelled, whipping around to glare up into his leader's face. "I did what you asked. I apologized. If I'm not enough for you, then just say so."

"Han Jisung, I... Wait, I never said you weren't enough. I just said you needed to apologize."

"And I did. Leave me alone." He whipped around, dragging his bag to the wall and throwing it down. "Can we just have this meeting and get done with it?"

The manager's mouth hung open, clearly shocked by the situation. He was a new manager to be fair, and he hadn't been there long enough to really see the emotions of the boys. Hyunjin wanted to apologize on behalf of Han. This poor man had no idea what he was signing up for when he agreed to work for JYPE and Stray Kids of all groups. We probably need to pay our staff better - Hyunjin thought - they certainly don't get paid enough to deal with us.

"I'll scold him later. I'm sorry." Chan bowed to the manager and the rest of the boys followed. Hyunjin noticed that Han at least had the decency to bow as well.

"It's alright. I'll keep this brief." And he did. He talked very quickly and filled them in on some changes to style and costume, as well as a last-minute switch in arrival time at the venue on the 25th.

Hyunjin tried to listen. He really did. But something caught the corner of his eye. That something being one Han Jisung. A stark contrast from the anger he'd exhibited just a few minutes prior, Han looked on the verge of tears. His eyes, big and moist, his lips, quivering when he wasn't biting them to still them, and his arms wrapped around himself, were all obvious signs of the rapper's guilt.

What was going on? It's like he's suddenly Bipolar. And yeah, he acts like that sometimes, but this just... this isn't normal.

Hyunjin had glanced over at Seungmin and noticed that he was staring at Han too. He caught his eye though and they nodded at each other. Someone needed to actually ask Han if he was okay. The happy-go-lucky personality was a good front - so good Hyunjin was almost completely sold. But taking just a peek at his eyes told him exactly what he needed to know - that it was all just a front.

And now, standing in the dorm after an awkwardly quiet car ride - though Hyunjin could hear the music blasting through Han's headphones - Hyunjin wanted to go talk to Han, but he was once again clueless as to how to approach the matter.

Fortunately, he wasn't the only one. "Hyung." Changbin spoke up, setting the keys on the hook before turning back to Chan. "Maybe don't scold Jisungie too harshly. I don't think he's feeling well today. I mean, you saw the way he could barely stand-up during practice. He said he was sore, and he looked really spaced out. He might be coming down with something."

"I know, Binnie." Chan sighed, hanging his head. Hyunjin couldn't see his face, and he knew that was intentional. Their leader did a very good job at hiding his problems from the members. As both leader and oldest member, Hyunjin knew Chan hated breaking down in front of them. But Hyunjin didn't know how he hid it. With the stress he must be feeling, Hyunjin knew he would have cracked open already. And in this moment, Hyunjin knew how hard Chan's decision was.

JYPE trusted him to keep the members in line, and if he didn't, then the company would take action. Chan hated when that happened, because last time it did, they lost a member. Scolding Jisung harshly was a lot safer than being mild and then letting the company handle it.

But on the other hand, Chan had to have seen how broken Jisung looked after the argument. If Hyunjin and Seungmin saw it, there's no doubt the leader did. Whether he should hurt Jisung more and protect him from the company or be gentle and risk the younger being put on probation, hiatus or worse was a decision that was up to Chan and Chan alone, and what a hard decision that must be.

Fortunately, though - or maybe unfortunately - he didn't have to decide just yet. Han's door opened and the dorm's maknae came out without his shirt and a new pair of clothes tucked under his arm. "Shower." He announced lazily and disappeared into the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Changbin huffed out a loud sigh and went to his room. Chan stood there for several seconds, staring at the bathroom door down the hallway. "What's going on in that head of yours, Channie hyung?"

The smile that crossed his face was sad, but it hid what Chan wanted to hide from the young dancer. "We're all kind of falling apart right now, aren't we, Jinnie?"

"I'm okay." Hyunjin shrugged. "But yeah. I guess so. At least Minho's hand is doing a bit better. And Jeongin's been doing really well, hyung. So, don't stress too much about it. I think that Jisungie is just stressed about the show right now. He'll come around like he always does. No worries, hyung. We're all okay. The thing is, are you doing okay?"

"Me?" Chan asked, eyes wide like he was surprised to be asked that. "I'm great... mostly. I would be great but when one of the kids isn't great then..."

"Then you empathize with them and feel their emotions." Hyunjin finished and smiled back at his leader. "You know, we can handle our own problems sometimes. You don't have to take the weight of everything."

"Thanks for the reminder, Jinnie."

"You're not going to take my advice though are you, hyung?"

"You know me too well." They laughed together and it honestly felt so nice to just laugh and smile for a little bit. It had been a rough comeback, but promotions were over, AAA was over, they just had to get through the Christmas performance and things felt like they'd settle down for a bit. "Everything's going to be alright, hyung."

"Yeah." Chan nodded. He opened his mouth to say something else, but a loud thud followed by a scream finished that conversation off. It took not even a full second before Hyunjin and Chan were sprinting down the hallway towards the bathroom.

Chan didn't even knock - typical dad mode kicking which Stay so loved to tease him about - he just broke down the door to the bathroom. Hyunjin leaned in behind him, but he didn't even get a second to process seeing Han in the shower before the dorm's youngest screamed at them. "Out! Get out! Go away!"

"Are you okay?" Chan asked - voice firm to demand an answer.

"I'm fine! I just dropped the shampoo! Get out!" Hyunjin pulled Chan back by the shirt and closed the bathroom door.

"What happened?" Changbin hollered, running down the hallway. He'd been mid changing, running around in just his boxers, his sweatpants in his hand. "Is everyone okay?"

"I think so?" Hyunjin asked, glancing back at the bathroom door behind him.

"He dropped the shampoo." Chan answered, running a hand through his hair and releasing a shaky breath. "Let's all just go take some time to ourselves. I think we're all a bit stressed right now. And Changbin, please put pants on."

The rapper threw his hands up, exasperated, and Hyunjin managed a stressed laugh.

The members separated, though Hyunjin stayed close to the bathroom. Something still didn't feel right.

And rightly so.

Han was frozen, stunned by the events that just happened.

Yeah, the shampoo bottle had fallen from the top of the shower without him even being aware of it until it hit the floor. No, not the floor - his foot. It took at least five seconds for his brain to process what had happened, but when it did, the pain set in so sharply that a strangled scream pulled itself from his mouth.

SHIT! Jisung, be quiet! You've caused enough problems today to last a lifetime!

He immediately heard the footsteps pounding down the hallway. There was no knock as warning - he figured that meant Chan reached the door first. He was right in believing that since he could see the eldest poke his head in, followed by Hyunjin who looked traumatized without even knowing what happened.

He couldn't handle their concern. He was already being too much for them at practice with his two incidents. He couldn't add a third thing. He meant to simply say "I'm okay, no worries, hyungs" but instead he screamed at them - not quite sure what actually came out of his mouth when he did.

"Are you okay?" Chan asked, unfazed by being yelled at.

Han blurted something - or shouted it. He wasn't sure. It hurt, and he didn't really know what exactly had happened, still shocked by the loud thud. Whatever he said got Hyunjin and Chan to leave. He could hear their voices muffled behind the door as they talked but he couldn't care less. He picked the shampoo bottle up and set it on the shelf, careful to make sure it was balancing perfectly.

And now there he stood, frozen. He felt so weak. It didn't help that the voices were so very loud today. And he was so, so, SO hungry.

Practice had cut into his eating time so if he wanted to count how many meals he ate today he'd be at a big fat zero. His stomach cramped so painfully during practice that he thought he might throw up. And then practice had ended, and he'd yelled at their manager because he wanted food. He really was fat. No one should yell at someone just for skipping one meal. Sure, it was his only meal. But still, he had no right.

And now this. He glanced down at his throbbing, burning, painful toe. It was already turning purple. Everything caught up to him. Tears filled his eyes and he fell back against the wall, slipping down into a squat until he could curl up into a little ball on the shower floor. The water wiped away the tears as he cried. He tried to be silent, hands covering his mouth. But the longer he cried, the harder that got. Soon, a sob escaped his mouth and despite the hands covering his mouth, it echoed around the small bathroom.

There was a soft knock on the door - that meant it wasn't Chan or Changbin. Chan would have burst in, Changbin's fists would have pounded the door as he babbled on for Han to answer him. This was Hyunjin, patiently waiting for permission to enter.

"I'm fine, hyung!" He sobbed.

"You sure, Ji?" Hyunjin asked, poking his head in.

The sight of the elder, knowing he could see him crying, but even worse, he could see his body - everything - all the fat - was overwhelming. "Get out!" He shouted, slamming his fist on the ground. "Get out!"

"Okay. I just wanted to help." The door clicked shut and Han cried even harder, no longer hiding the fact he was sobbing naked in the shower when he was twenty-three years old. He'd pushed away what he wanted most. He knew that Hyunjin would hold him right now. Wet, undressed, sobbing, angry, sad, broken, he'd hold him through it. And what did he do to that precious person? He yelled at him. Twice.

I hate myself. I'm a terrible person.

A harder knock could be heard on the door and Han shoved a fist in his mouth. That's Changbin's knock. The elder's voice flooded through. "Hey Jisungie. Jinnie, Chan hyung, and I are going out for a quick walk. We'll be back in about fifteen minutes." And he could feel Changbin's presence leave.

Part of him was relieved. Now he could cry as loud as he wanted. He could act like a child. But then again, no one was here to hold him. Not that he would let them despite wanting it more than anything else. But they left. He knew that it was to give him privacy and a chance to have a much needed breakdown to cope. But the voice in his head was louder than his rational thoughts. They don't want to deal with you. You're too much Jisung. Way too much. They hate you.

The tears wouldn't come anymore even though there was no reason to hold them back. They just stopped. Han let the water wash away the traces of a breakdown and stepped out. He dried himself quickly and slipped on his boxers and sweatpants. He didn't even bother pulling his shirt on - it was just him and his hideous self. No one would see the fat, ugly mess that was Han Jisung.

He padded softly out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. He grabbed his phone, leaving his headphones alone since no one else was home. Turning the volume all the way up, he pressed Cover Me on his playlist and set his phone on his nightstand. He pulled a sweatshirt over him incase his roommates came back early, and he curled up.

"Yeah, I tried to hide away from all the sorrow and pain. But little did I know that I was going insane. The sun will always be there waiting after the rain."

I want to see the sunlight. When did everything get so cloudy? Maybe I'm going insane, and I just don't realize it. What if... What if I'm not okay?

No, that's ridiculous. I'm fine. I know I'm fine.

"I can't take it anymore, what should I do?"

Han squeezed his eyes shut, the tears that had been waiting to fall flooded down his cheeks.

"So, cover me now!"

He was able to hide everything so well. The mask of "I'm okay" was so perfect even he couldn't see through it.

But if someone just looked into my eyes, would they see the truth? The truth that maybe - just maybe - I'm not okay.

Chapter Text

Han heard the dorm door open. He didn't know how much time passed, it had to be only fifteen minutes because the members were always true to their words, but it felt like an eternity. He turned the music off immediately, opting to put on headphones instead. He then cranked the music up, finally daring to listen to To My Youth by Bol4 and letting the sorrow hang heavy over him.

Why are you sad though? You have to reason to be sad, Han; you're being ridiculous. Fat and ridiculous. And ugly. And worthless. God, you're such an awful person.

The door to the bedroom opened. He only noticed because the hallway light shone in on the curtains across the room. He didn't bother getting up. He didn't really care who it was that came to see him. He was done.

He felt someone gently touch his arm, and he shut his eyes, feigning sleep. Based on the slender fingers on his bicep though, he judged that it was Hyunjin. He must have been a good actor though because Hyunjin didn't attempt to spoil his act. Instead, the light from the hallway vanished and when Han glanced back, his roommate was gone. Good, he wanted to be alone. But if he really wanted to be alone then why did loneliness hurt so bad?

Han woke up the next morning to Hyunjin shaking him. He pulled his headphones off, the playlist had ended hours ago so it was just silence, but it was still noise cancelling so he couldn't hear what Hyunjin was saying. "Good morning." He greeted the elder, rubbing his eyes and feeling that they were all puffy and crusty - just another thing to make him ugly.

"It's Christmas Eve, Hannie, come on. Get up." Hyunjin smiled, standing up and finished buttoning his jeans. "We have a half day and then the company gave us the evening off."

Han's eyes widened and a smile crept across his face. "What are we going to do? Build snowmen? Make snow angels?"

"We can do whatever we want to do!" Hyunjin laughed, grabbing Han's arm and pulling him out of bed.

As soon as Han's feet touched the ground though a sharp pain radiated from his toe, shooting through his foot and into his ankle with how suddenly it hit. He gritted his teeth and grunted, immediately lifting his left foot off the ground.

"Woah! Ji, you okay? What happened?" Hyunjin blurted, hands out but not touching Han like he might break him.

"I'm okay. I think I broke my toe." Both he and Hyunjin looked down in unison and Hyunjin's face went white.

"Holy crap, Jisung! Your entire toe is purple! Chan! Chan hyung!"

"Shut up!" Jisung snapped, whacking Hyunjin's arm. "It's not that bad, see?" He put his weight back on his foot and smiled at the dancer. It didn't hurt so bad when he was prepared for it. "I just startled myself. I forgot I hurt it."

Hyunjin didn't look entirely convinced, though Han hadn't lied at all. It really wasn't bad; he'd just startled himself. He sighed and turned his face away when Chan appeared in the doorway.

Great, and I wanted to keep this on the downlow.

"What's wrong?" Chan asked quickly, his eyes trailing across both Hyunjin and Han.

"Han broke his toe." Hyunjin blurted, pointing at Jisung's foot.

Said boy sighed again, louder this time, and shook his head at the leader. "It's really not that bad. I just forgot that the shampoo bottle fell on it, and I tried to stand before I was ready. It really doesn't hurt now."

"Let me see." Chan decided, used to all the members playing down injuries. Flashbacks of Felix's back injury played through his head, then the horrid memory of Minho crying in the bathroom in the Philippines - too soon. Yeah, he wasn't trusting their accounts of injuries until he saw for himself.

Han sat back on the bed heavily and Chan hurried across the room, kneeling down and lifting the young rapper's foot up onto his knee. The entire toe was purple, but it didn't appear to be disfigured in any way. "It's probably a hairline fracture." Chan concluded. "We'll tape it, and it should feel okay. But icing wouldn't hurt."

"It's December, I'll just run around outside without shoes."

Chan managed a smile at the joke. These boys were seriously going to take him to an early grave. He patted Han's foot before standing up and heading to the bathroom to grab the medical tape. When he got back, Hyunjin and Han were excitedly talking about what they were going to do that afternoon. The mention of taking a drive around the city to see Christmas lights caught Chan's attention when he knelt in front of Han again. "I like that idea. We could make popcorn and take the company van so we can all be together."

"Yeah!" Hyunjin exclaimed, black eyes shining.

"Yeah." Han echoed, though taking a look at his eyes Chan saw absolutely no shining - no light. That's weird, Han always has the sparkliest eyes. It's probably the pain. He glanced back down at Han's foot, bringing it back to his knee and unrolling the medical tape.

"So, is this what that thud and scream in the shower was about yesterday?" He asked, keeping his eyes on his task.

"Yeah. The shampoo fell and I didn't even realize it. It legit took me five seconds of staring at my foot before the pain actually hit me. Kinda felt like a cartoon rendition of a shower injury." Han chuckled, brushing his unruly morning hair out of his eyes. "I can't believe I even got hurt in a shower. I sound like a 95-year-old grandpa now."

"Hey, don't make fun of Chan hyung like that." Hyunjin scolded, smirking.

"Yah!" Chan snapped, reaching over to playfully smack Hyunjin's leg. "I'm only 26; I'm nowhere near 95."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself, hyung." Han laughed, kicking the elder gently in the chest.

Once Chan finished taping Han's foot, he went out to find Changbin sprawled out on the couch watching a Christmas show on TV. It was some American show and Chan smiled at the way Changbin frowned at the TV. "You good, Binnie?" He laughed.

"I have no idea what they're talking about right now, hyung." He huffed, crossing his arms and pouting.

Chan had to refrain from grabbing his phone to take a picture. He glanced back at the TV and immediately the slightly - well, more than slightly - dirty dialogue hit him. Why was this playing on TV at 7:30 in the morning? "Yeah, you don't need to know what they're saying, Bin." He laughed as he turned the TV off and patted the rapper's head. "Now, let's go get practice done so we can get home sooner and celebrate Christmas."

Nothing could beat this Christmas gift. Standing on the scale and seeing he'd broken 130 to reach 129lbs was the best Han felt in... he couldn't remember. It felt amazing to say the least. He nearly started skipping like a child around the bathroom, too excited to contain himself. He was so close to his goal of 125lbs now - another few days and he'd make it - he was sure.

"Jisung, are you coming or not?" Changbin called through the dorm. "The van's here. Hurry up!"

"Coming!" Han stepped on the scale once more to make sure he wasn't dreaming before he hurried out of the bathroom to join Hyunjin, Chan, and Changbin already by the door.

"What took so long?" Hyunjin sighed, checking the clock on his phone.

"Sorry." Han blurted, carefully pushing his feet into his shoes - mindful of the bulky wrap around his broken toe. "I'm ready now." He opted to put his coat on in the car and quickly rushed to open the door for his hyungs. The four headed outside to where the van was packed with the rest of the Stray Kids members. They all piled in.

Han got stuck in the back between Minho and Felix.

Seungmin sat in the driver's seat and Hyunjin took passenger.

"Are we all ready for the Christmas lights tour of Seoul 2023?" Seungmin called back, glancing through the rearview mirror.

"Yes!"

"Go already, Min!"

"Hyung, don't stall!"

"Cmon, Minnie, let's go!"

Seungmin smirked and put the car in drive. "Please keep all hands arms and legs inside the car at all times."

"What about heads?" Han asked, raising his hand jokingly.

"What about butts?" Lee Know smirked.

"I'm going to throw both of your butts out of this car if you ask more dumb questions." Seungmin laughed, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the dark city street.

"With you at the wheel, I'm about to willingly get out." Minho groaned, earning a laugh from the rest of the boys.

Han glanced over and noticed Felix connecting his phone to the car's audio. He shot his twin a thumbs up before hitting play on a song. Christmas Evel started blasting from the speakers so loudly that Hyunjin and Changbin both jumped and shrieked in unison.

Han and Felix high-fived as the sing-along started.

Han couldn't have been happier driving through the city, watching the way the golden twinkle lights wrapped around trees glittered in the windows of the shops. The few people who were still out were smiling like they were lost in a dream, and Han couldn't help but feel like he too was lost in a dream. It was magical. He was with his favorite people, on Christmas eve, listening to their music. He was living the life he'd always dreamed of.

So, why did he feel... off?

The smile that had been on his face for the last half hour they'd been driving faltered, leaving his lips twitching as they tried to figure out how to smile again. Something wasn't right. But what was it? He glanced down at where his hand was resting on his thighs. Oh, maybe that's what was wrong. He still looked really fat even though he was in the 120's - high 120's, but still.

He pulled his sweatshirt down a little further and leaned back in the seat, chin ducking down to rest on his chest.

Seungmin pulled off down a side road to where the city was much less crowded - and it could probably constitute more as suburbs here. The individually decorated trees in the small apartment windows shone out happily. Han couldn't look at them now. They were so happy, and his bad mood was going to ruin it.

He already ruined it just by existing. Wouldn't the group just be happier without him dragging them down?

WOAH! That's an entirely new thought! I never ever believed they'd be better off without me. And they never believed that either. Come on, Jisung. You can believe you're fat, you're ugly, worthless, stupid, everything else, but don't doubt their love when they've done so much to prove it to you.

What? What have they done though?

Shut up. Not tonight. Please.

You hate yourself. What's to say they don't feel the same way?

"You okay, Hannie?" Minho asked, rubbing the young rapper's thigh.

Han physically jerked away, ripping his fat body out of the elder's grasp. "Oops, sorry, you startled me." He giggled, blinking a few times to make sure he felt... real.

"Clearly." Felix answered from his other side, his deep voice sending Han into a shudder. He could just imagine how terrifying that voice would be if Felix yelled at him. Oh, how the hate would be amplified by his friend's beauty - being rejected by someone so pure and beautiful would hurt more than the self-loathing he felt now.

"Yeah, um, so what's going to be our Christmas dinner?" Han asked, looking up between Minho and Felix. He'd managed to keep food a pretty forward topic, so to not raise suspicion. The others didn't question a thing.

"It's a surprise." Minho smiled, reaching back to pat Han's leg, but the younger scooted closer to Felix, further from the hand that would feel all the fat on his body. Minho's brow furrowed. "Jisungie, are you overstimulated or something?"

"What?" Han asked, forcing a laugh - this wasn't the way this car ride was supposed to go.

"Never mind." Minho sighed, waving his hand in dismissal.

"You're pretty jumpy, hyung." Felix answered for the older DanceRacha member. "You really only get like that when you feel overstimulated or overwhelmed."

"Oh, I'm not. No worries." He smiled at Felix, and to prove his point, threw his arms over the two members' shoulders, pulling them close. "I'm actually really happy to be here with you guys right now."

"Ew, don't be sappy, Hannie." Minho joked.

"Aww, love you too, hyung." Felix smiled, wrapping his arms around Han's waist.

He smiled, pulling them closer.

But he felt sick. Felix could feel his waist, all the fatness there. Minho could feel how chubby his arms were. His smile only made his cheeks chubbier.

Ugh, disgusting. Han, you're disgusting. And they think so too. They just wouldn't say so because they're actually nice people. But you? You are a disgusting, awful person.

Okay.

The members were brimming with excitement for their Christmas performance. Their costumes were epic, the way the red jewels gave the appearance blood looked so cool. And the anticipation was eating them alive.

But that wasn't the only thing eating Han alive.

There were too many people. Their manager had told them they were to arrive early, and several hours had passed since they'd gotten ready, but the energy it took to smile and act okay around the stylists and managers and any staff in general left Han empty. But since when did it take energy to be okay? He was okay - it should come naturally. And people? He loved people. So why did he feel like with so many eyes on him he was being judged. They could see his struggles, the fact that he wasn't...

No. He was okay. He knew he's okay.

Then explain this, Han. if you're okay, then why are you hunched over a toilet like you're going to throw-up?

Han blinked down at his reflection in the toilet water. That was actually a very good question that he did not have the answer to.

"Oh, come on, Jisung." Han groaned, dropping his forehead against the toilet seat. "You know why you're sitting here right now." Fat. That was the answer. Minho's dinner last night filled him up way too much and he hadn't eaten anything today. The huge intake then lack of food made his stomach ache to the point his throat was near seconds from gagging.

He knew he wouldn't throw up; Han never threw up. But that didn't make him feel any better. He wanted his headphones, wanted to drown out his thoughts telling him that he was gross, looked fat in his costume, and was going to disappoint everyone with his stupid performance skills - or lack thereof. The voices never shut up. He would be so happy if just for a second, he could get a break from them.

He pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the tingling in his hands and the way his head felt like it was floating away. Dragging himself out of the bathroom, he found the rest of the members already starting their warmup. Seungmin and Felix were humming scales, Hyunjin and Minho were stretching. Jeongin was getting the finishing touches of his makeup done. Changbin was rapping in a corner because that man literally could not go more than five minutes without rapping. And Chan was... not present.

Han sighed and plopped down into the empty makeup chair by Jeongin, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He looked... hideous. How was he supposed to go on stage looking like this? Everything was wrong and ugly. He was fat beyond belief and even if he wasn't fat there was so much else that made him ugly that needed fixing.

"Jisung!"

Han glanced to the side, raising his eyebrows at the maknae.

"Hyung, I've been calling your name for the past thirty seconds."

"Sorry, I zoned out. What did you need, Innie?"

"I don't need anything... are you okay?"

Han's eyes widened. "Well, duh, yeah."

"Hmm, okay." Jeongin glanced back at his own reflection in the mirror.

Han hated him. No, no he didn't hate him. He hated the fact that he could look so effortlessly attractive. The way his skin seemed to glow while Han's skin looked like a sick clammy child. The confidence in his gaze, a confidence that Han didn't realize he didn't have anymore until he really thought about it. When did he lose that confidence? No, he was confident still. He just... didn't look good today. It was an off day.

He was having a lot of off days lately...

Sighing, Han stood up. He didn't want to look at Jeongin anymore. He loved the maknae, but he hated that he was handsome. Why was everyone handsome but him? What was Chan thinking when he added Jisung to the band? Maybe he pitied him. That was probably it.

"Hey, Jisungie." Hyunjin called from where he was stretching with Minho. "Come join us. My personal trainer taught me a new back stretch the other day and it's literally heaven, Ji."

"No thanks." Han blinked rapidly, hands balling into fists as he slammed his shoulder against the door, retreating back to the bathroom.

Hyunjin glanced at Minho, a look of shock decorated both of their faces. "Maybe his toe is bothering him..."

Minho narrowed his eyes on the door that slammed shut behind the young rapper. "No, that's not what that look meant."

"Then what was it?" Hyunjin asked, standing up straight, furrowing his brow.

Minho shook his head, "I'll talk to him later." He wasn't referring to Jisung though.

The performance went really well. Well, minus the fact that they got an unintentional collab with New Jeans. Changbin was fuming after the performance, whereas the rest of the members attempted to laugh it off. Chan definitely had a talk to their sound director though and every single one of the members had never been so happy to not be in a sound booth before.

The members all changed back into their normal clothes, sweatpants and sweatshirts taking over the room. Han stayed in the corner as he changed. Usually, he was right there in the center, staring at Hyunjin's biceps or trying to avoid getting spanked by Lee Know. But he wasn't in the mood for the games today. Just today though, it was an off day. Everyone has off days. It's normal. Completely normal.

Except that he forgot his shirt on the opposite side of the room and had to brave the walk through the seven other members. It wouldn't be a problem though; this was a normal thing to happen, and he was fine.

He managed his way through without getting hugged, spanked, or tackled - which, considering what group he's a part of - is an accomplishment of its own. He didn't make it past the boss level though. Or in other words: Bang Chan.

The leader was running a comb through his hair, attempting to get out the clumps of hair gel his stylist might have gone a little overboard on. He spotted Jisung, offering the younger a smile before freezing and openly staring at him.

Han looked down at his bare torso then back at the leader, attempting to make a casual expression. "What?" He asked, offering a chuckle to make it seem nonchalant.

"Have you lost weight?" Chan asked, and Han realized that the leader was staring at his stomach.

Quickly, and somewhat involuntarily, he wrapped his arms around himself. "I've started a new ab workout challenge at the gym, I'm probably just getting toned up or something."

"Have you been eating well?" Chan asked, tearing his gaze away from his stomach to look into his eyes. Too bad for the leader, Han wasn't going to let him see that deep into him. He turned his head away, grabbing his shirt to throw it on.

"Yeah, did you see how much I ate last night? I looked pregnant!"

Chan chuckled, a look of relief crossing his face at the memory of watching Jisung eat a ton the previous night. "You're going to have to show me that abs workout then, it's clearly paying off."

Han nodded. "Yeah, sure, anytime." He winked at the leader, shooting finger guns at him, "Though I don't think you need it, Mr. Muscles."

"That's Changbin." Chan laughed.

"Right, my bad. Changbin is Mr. Muscles, you're just the old man." He ran away before Chan could find a wooden spoon and chase him with it. But the running away was partly to hide. That had been far too close. He thought he was a bad liar, but apparently, he was sufficient at hiding when it really mattered. Not that he needed to hide. He was eating. He was fine. Chan was just overprotective.

"Alright." Chan called out to the boys as they finished packing everything up. "I'm going to go find our manager and make sure we're all set for the night. We have a live we need to do tonight, but after that, we have the entire night off."

"Yes!" Seungmin exclaimed, high-fiving Felix as they both beamed.

Chan nodded, heading out into the hallway to find where the managers were still backstage discussing the technical issues with the performance. He slowed when he heard footsteps behind him and glanced back to find Minho jogging after him. "Hey, Lino, what's up?"

"I don't think Han's doing okay." He could always count on Minho to be blunt. And sometimes he really liked it, right now though, it made his heart hammer against his ribs painfully. Still, he attempted to keep an aura of calm.

"What makes you say that?"

"His face." Minho answered with a curt nod.

"His face?" Chan raised an eyebrow, though he didn't laugh at the dancer.

"Yes. You know that face he makes when something is wrong, and he won't tell us?"

"Of course, we all know that face."

"He was making it earlier. Hyunjin and I offered to let him stretch with us, but he said no and just left the room."

Chan slowed his pace, trying to draw out the time it took to get to the managers. He hummed as he thought, but before he could open his mouth, Lee Know was speaking again. "That's not all. Last night while we were driving, I tried to touch his leg and he completely jerked away. He said I just startled him but when I went to do it again, he flinched away again. He hugged me and Felix afterwards, but I could hear his heart pounding. And then there was that rehearsal two days ago. First, he could barely even get off the floor, and he was being short-tempered with you for offering to help. Second, he never argues with our managers. Something's wrong and I don't know what. He won't tell us and..."

"Woah, woah, hold on, Lino." Chan stopped walking entirely, setting his hands on the younger's shoulders, holding him in place.

"Sorry." Minho sighed, dropping his chin to his chest. "I'm just worried about him, you know?"

"No, don't apologize for caring about someone, mate. Honestly, I've been kind of wondering the same thing." The memory of the way Han couldn't stand up at dance practice flooded back into his mind, snippets of the way he'd shouted at them in the bathroom when he got hurt in the shower, the lightless look in his eyes... and now the way that Han wouldn't look into his eyes at all.

"Do you think something's wrong with him, hyung? I mean, obviously something is..."

"Maybe he's overwhelmed." Chan shrugged, taking his hands off Lee Know's shoulders to cross them. He leaned back against the empty wall behind him, raising his eyes to stare at the ceiling in thought. "The whole touching thing could be that he felt overstimulated. It's happened before."

"Yeah, when he had anxiety. But he's fine now, right?" Minho said, his eyes pleading with Chan for an affirmation that their younger member was fine.

"We'll just keep an eye on him." Chan concluded, unsure how else to approach it. "Hannie's really open with us, especially with you, Minho. I trust him enough to believe he'd tell us if something was really bothering him."

Minho didn't look convinced. Chan didn't feel convinced. But what could they do right now? They had a live they needed to do still, and they were still at their venue. This wasn't the appropriate place for a conversation like this.

But they didn't know how little they knew. They didn't know the things Han knew. And if only they did...

Chapter Text

It was too loud.

Way too loud.

So loud that Han felt like crying.

He ripped his headphones off, throwing them onto the floor despite the fact that they'd probably break. He didn't care. The music blasting through his skull wasn't enough to drown out the voice anymore. It was screaming in his head, louder than anything he used to be able to use to drown it out. When did it get so loud? It used to listen to him when he told it to shut up, and it used to even be encouraging at points. When did that stop?

"Composing not going so well, Hannie?" Changbin chuckled from the kitchen.

His laugh - which usually felt like the soft texture of a fluffy blanket - suddenly felt like a scratchy shirt that made Han's skin crawl with discomfort. He needed to get away from it. It was too much. "Yeah, composing sucks. I hate this song." He huffed, slamming his laptop closed.

"Oh." The amusement in Changbin's voice vanished. "We all have off days, Sungie. Maybe you could go take a shower and try again tomorrow. It's nearly midnight anyways."

Yeah, but it seems like every day I have is an off day.

"Yeah, I'll take a shower." He threw the laptop to the side and wandered down the hallway to the bathroom. He slammed the door way too hard and if Chan were here instead of at the studio, he'd probably have scolded him. But Changbin wasn't going to say anything, and Han knew that.

He turned the vent on, hopeful that the sound would drown out the voice in his head. It didn't. Of course.

His clothes felt scratchy and tight, and he couldn't get them off fast enough. But looking at himself in the mirror, Han hated the way his body looked. Sure, yesterday Chan had commented that he looked thinner. He loved it and hated it at the same time. Loved it because someone noticed that he lost weight. Hated it for that exact same reason.

He clenched his hands into fists and turned the shower on, waiting for the water to warm up as he pinched his skin, staring down at the body he hated so much. The body he found revolting, disgusting, ugly. He loathed the body he was looking at. Still, he'd only lost 8 pounds - he was at 127lbs - in the just over a week he'd been dieting. He was certain people with eating disorders lost weight a lot faster than that.

But he didn't have an eating disorder.

Maybe he wasn't dieting enough...

He pinched his stomach which had sunken into his body, creating a slight cave under his ribs. His ribs didn't poke out though, he couldn't count them unless he raised his arms above his head to pull the skin taunt. He loved the way that looked though, when he could count his ribs.

He stared harder at the body below him - the body that suddenly didn't feel... real.

He blinked a few times, clearing his head. It didn't work - it never did anymore. Instead, he abandoned the effort of trying to think rationally and hopped into the shower. The water was warm and soothing, but the voice in his head was screaming, and suddenly the water felt sticky and uncomfortable.

What changed? What happened? When did it all start feeling too much? I'm fine. I'm fine. I'M FINE!

He couldn't handle it. He sank down onto his knees, rocking himself back and forth as the hot shower air suffocated him. His body - which didn't feel so much like his now - was disgusting. He hated it so much. And his thoughts - which also didn't belong to him - repulsed him.

He wanted out. He wanted to be fine. He was fine. But he wanted to actually be fine. Not whatever version of fine this was supposed to be.

How do I fix it? How do I feel okay again? How do I take control of my life? Please. Please! Someone has to know! I'll do anything.

Anything?

Absolutely anything. Please. I can't do this anymore.

Take Hyunjin's razor on the ledge.

Han obeyed before he even realized he'd stood up and moved. The razor felt cold in his hand. It didn't feel right. What was he even doing?

Oh, he knew what he was doing. Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew exactly what he was doing. But the innocent, terrified Han Jisung was screaming, confused and pleading for help. The other version, the version that screamed louder now in his head, didn't listen to those innocent cries for help.

Now hurt yourself. That's how you get control.

No, it isn't. That's not healthy.

Is anything you've been doing for the past few weeks healthy?

Han didn't realize he'd done anything until he felt the burn on his leg. He looked down at the once unblemished skin on his upper thigh, now there was a raised bump of red skin. No blood. But definite irritation at being sliced by an old rusty razor.

No blood. Good. No injury. He could easily get away with this then and it wouldn't even count as hurting himself since he didn't bleed. He slipped the razor up and down his leg, right where his thigh met his hip. Some strokes hurt more than others, some produced raised red bumps and other times nothing really happened. But one sharp pain had Jisung frozen as he watched a single line of red - crimson red not just irritated skin red - form over where the razor had slid.

Slowly, and ever to so carefully, Han reached out to touch the streak of... blood.

He'd made himself bleed.

The world came crashing back down onto him and he dropped the razor in shock. For now, just for a moment, the voice that had been screaming in his head retreated, leaving a terrified Jisung alone to deal with the consequences.

"What have I done?" He whispered, staring at the thin line of blood.

It was barely anything. Sure, it stung, but there wasn't even enough blood to drip. Still, the weight of what he'd done brought Jisung to his knees.

The water washed away the blood and cleaned the raised bumps of red and the single cut. He could just stare.

This isn't happening. This is not happening. I did not just do that...

"But I did." He whimpered, pressing a hand over the cut. It stung. But... but he deserved it.

Everything was eerily silent. No thoughts reminded him he was fat and ugly. There was no voice screaming that he was worthless.

It gave him the chance to actually think clearly for a second. And only one question arose in his head: What happened?

I was fine. I knew I was fine. So how did I get here? People who are fine don't cut themselves. That I do know. But when did I stop being fine? I really was okay - I was more than okay. I'm... I'm not okay now though. I'm not okay.

Oh, god, what have I done to myself?

Chapter Text

"Aren't you going to stretch with us, Ji?" Hyunjin asked, waving over the younger member to where he and Seungmin were warming up.

"I'm good, thanks." Han answered, offering a smile. It felt so foreign and wrong. He shouldn't be smiling right now because he really wasn't doing okay, but he couldn't burden the members. He'd gotten into this mess; he was fine on his own getting out. But the itch of skin knitting itself back together on his hip was a constant reminder of how far and fast he spiraled.

"He's just scared because he's going to meet his idol again." Minho teased, smirking down at Jisung.

"Yeah." Han breathed out a laugh.

"Speaking of Tiger JK, when is he supposed to get here?" Felix asked from across the room. "It's already 10."

"I'm here." All eight boys turned their heads in unison to where the man had just entered through the door into the practice room. "Sorry for the delay, traffic can be insane two days after Christmas."

"No need to apologize." Chan smiled, hurrying across the room to greet the man. "Thanks for coming today." They shook hands, bowing to each other before their manager stepped up to the middle of the floor, interrupting the meeting.

"Sorry to cut the reunion short, but we're on kind of a tight schedule today."

"That's alright." The older rapper nodded, crossing his arms as he wandered further into the room, his manager and a few staff members trailing him like ducklings.

"Good." The Stray Kids manager nodded. "Let's get started with spacing and how this stage is gonna go."

Han tried to pay attention. Oh, he tried so hard. If only they realized how hard he was trying, he'd probably get an award for his efforts and they'd all clap him on the back and say "good job, Jisung, we're so proud of you". But, obviously, that didn't happen. They didn't see what was going on inside his head. They didn't see the way his heart clenched every time he felt his sweatpants rub the raw skin on his hip. They didn't hear the voice screaming that he was making a fool of himself in front of his idol. All they could see was a boy who was seriously lacking in attention and participation.

"Jisung!" Their manager eventually snapped after an hour. He pinched the bridge of his nose, wandering away from the wall where he was privately discussing something with Tiger JK's manager.

"Sorry." Han blurted, though he wasn't entirely sure what he was doing wrong. They were just playing the song another time and walking through it like usual. What did he do? Why did everything he do have to be wrong? Could be ever get something right?

No. Everything you'll ever do is wrong, Jisung. You know that. And you can't keep leaving it to your members to fix. Get a hold of yourself.

I'm trying!

But if this is me trying... if this is my best...

"JISUNG!" Han jumped so badly that he sprung backwards into Jeongin who had to grip the elder's arms to steady him.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Han blurted, bowing in the general direction of his manager. He wasn't mad. Han knew that... well, he thinks he knew that. But it wasn't a secret that he had argued with another manager on the 23rd. What he did know was that all of the JYPE staff in charge of Stray Kids knew about that incident and probably were prepared for another fight. Han didn't want to fight though. He wanted to cry. He wanted to cry until he melted into a puddle himself and died. It would be so much better than...

"What is going on with you, Jisung?" The manager snapped, his feet pounding across the floor, Han could feel it rattle through his chest. Or maybe that was just his heart beating out of control. "It's like you don't even want to be here right now. You need to focus. We don't have time today for this, okay? If you can't pull yourself together, I will do it for you. Understood?"

Han nodded. He knew the manager was just acting in the group's best interest. But embarrassment painted his cheeks red and he spared a glance at his group and Tiger JK. He really was useless. He was holding them back. Holding not just his best friends back, but his idol.

"I have to use the restroom." Han dared to look up at the manager. He didn't have to go, he just needed to escape.

"Wait till 11:30 when we have our lunch break." The manager sighed and returned to his spot by the wall.

Chan opened his mouth to argue. He didn't argue much with their managers - especially the older ones that have been with the group since the beginning - but when it came to bathroom breaks he was adamant that the member's get their privacy.

But Han shook his head. He didn't want to cause anymore trouble. He was already trouble enough. Always messing things up. Always bringing the group down. He couldn't even take a step without thinking about how awful of a person he was. He hurt himself. And, in turn, was hurting the group. He didn't even care about Tiger JK now - this was about his members. His brothers. And he was letting them down.

I don't belong here.

"Let's run this again."

"You coming, Ji?" Hyunjin called back to the rapper as the seven boys headed out of the practice room with their managers, staff, and resident legend of the day.

Han stared at the floor and shook his head. "I think I'll practice my rapping for a little bit. I'll come up in a minute. You go ahead, hyung."

Hyunjin looked incredibly hesitant, and behind him in the doorway, Minho and Chan looked ready to argue, but a staff member stepped past them - who was holding the door opened - and it shut before any of them could make the decision to stay.

Good. They needed to go. Needed to be gone because in the span of the three seconds Han had been alone, he started crying. The tears that streamed down his face were quiet and easy to hide. He wanted to scream, shout, plead for someone to help him until his voice was hoarse. He wanted to sob out everything he was feeling. But the only thing that came were silent tears slipping down his cheeks. He couldn't even cry right - he just screwed everything up.

Shame, guilt, embarrassment, it all hit him so hard that all he could bring himself to do was sit right there on the floor and stare at the person he hated the most in the mirror.

"When did this happen?" He whispered, wiping the tears away though more silently fell to fill their place. "I swear, I was doing so well. Everything was perfect. Have I just been lying to myself for years or was I really doing alright, and something happened?" He thought for a second, staring at his teary eyes in the mirror. "Nothing happened. I just... I just don't belong anymore. I'm not handsome like the others. I'm not skinny like them either. I can't even focus during practice - even when I have the best incentive to. I'm just... I don't fit." He hung his head, unable to look at the monster in the mirror. The monster who was simultaneously a young man who was a victim of his own mind. A part of him was inflicting the pain, he hated that part. A part of him was being hurt every second of every day, and he wanted to help that part. But there was no other part to fix it. He was either hurting or being hurt. "What am I gonna do with myself?"

"Jisung?" Han jumped almost as badly as before. Scrambling to his knees, he wiped the tears as quickly as possible and realized how grateful he was for the inability to cry hard right now. Because, when he stood up and turned to the door, he found himself facing his idol.

"Hi. Sorry." His hands were shaking but stuffing them deep into his pockets seemed the best course of action.

"Why are you apologizing? I just realized I forgot my phone." The older man answered, a kind smile on his face.

Under normal circumstances, Han would have fanboyed - he knew that. And still, he felt a wave of giddiness wash over him. But it was fogged up by so much guilt and shame it barely made a smile cross his face.

Han stood awkwardly in the middle of the room while his idol reached the black couch where his phone was sitting on the armrest. Pocketing it, the man turned back to Jisung, who realized he couldn't bring himself to look higher than the floor. Pathetic - he was absolutely pathetic.

"So, how's your rapping going?" Tiger asked before he walked back to the door.

"My rapping?" Han raised his eyebrows, finally looking up at his idol.

"You said you were going to stay behind to practice..."

"Oh! I was - am. I am. I'm practicing." His gaze fell back to the floor. I'm so stupid.

"You don't want to take a break and get lunch with your members?"

He did. He really did. He always felt lightheaded now, and his body always felt heavy and lethargic, but he couldn't give up when he was so close to reaching his goal. "I need the practice."

"Do you feel that way because your manager yelled at you?"

All guilt and sorrow were shocked out of Han for a moment. "What?"

"Sorry, that was a bit straight forward. I'm just saying, he seemed a little harsh on you for just zoning out a couple times. We all have off days."

Han rolled his eyes discretely. "It's not just today though. I have off days every day it seems. It's like, everything I do is off. I can never get it right. I try. I fail. I'm just, I don't know, an awful idol. I wouldn't even consider myself an idol. I'm probably no one's idol. Or if I am, their admiration is seriously misplaced. I'm so... so..." Worthless? Fat? Stupid? Ugly? "Tired."

He paused, swallowing the lump growing in his throat and blinked hard to clear the tears that burned his eyes. When the threat of crying passed, embarrassment washed over him. "I don't know why I just said all of that. I'm sorry. This is your lunch break, not my free therapy session. I'm sure you're right... it's just an off day." He tried to laugh it off but quickly realized that he was the only one laughing and the smile faltered.

Tiger cocked his head to the side, his eyes scanning up and down Han. Jisung hated it. He always dreamed of having his idol's attention, but not when the only thing hiding how far gone he felt was a pair of black sweatpants and the corner of his boxers. The cuts felt like they were burning, aching to be known. But that's attention seeking. And he was the one who did it to himself. If someone else had hurt him, he'd run to his members. But what was he supposed to do? Cry because he was injured or await punishment because he inflicted the injury?

The cuts weren't even the worst part. He knew he was fat and ugly. And his idol was looking at him. He could see it too. The moment seemed to last forever before he realized that he was looking straight into the older rapper's eyes. His own eyes widened and he turned his gaze to the floor. "So... what are they serving up in the cafeteria?" Stupid. So, so stupid.

The softness of Tiger's voice shocked Jisung. "Do your members know you're struggling?"

"I'm not struggling." He blurted in response. The look of skepticism, like a father who knew his son had been the one to throw the baseball and break the window, reminded Han of a certain leader he loved a lot. It hurt him. It hurt him so much that an involuntary whine squeezed out of his throat. He covered it with a cough and tried to rephrase. "I'm just having an off day. Seriously. It's all good. I'm sure if I drank some water and took a walk everything would be alright."

"Jisung."

"Yes?"

"I've been in the industry long enough to know an off day from a real issue." Han didn't like where this was going. At least, the part of him that wanted to hurt himself, wanted to starve until he looked like a malnourished child, hated the direction this was going. But the other part of him - the Han Jisung that was still the same - was basking in the gentle smile, the kind gaze, the possibility that someone might actually understand, see through the lie he'd created, and maybe - just maybe - help.

Terror struck him hard. Absolutely petrified of what help could entail, Han startled into straighter posture and promptly bowed to his idol. "I'm fine. Everything is fine. It's really just an off day. I just realized that I shouldn't be using a dance practice room to practice rapping. Excuse me." He ran out of the room, abandoning all of his possessions to run and hide in a random bathroom. Fortunately, there was no one there because the tears were now able to flow - and flow they did.

The members had to realize something was wrong. The whole rest of the week Han was in his room under the guise of writing. But 3Racha knew better - Han wrote best when he was with them. Whatever he was doing in there, he wasn't doing his best work, and he likely wasn't enjoying it as much either. They didn't realize that Han was googling ways to starve himself without feeling hungry. They didn't realize he was crying himself to sleep, biting his pillow so Hyunjin wouldn't hear and wake up.

He looked through every picture, every video ever made of him and critiqued everything. Found the things he hated about himself, from how terrible his voice sounded in literally every song, down to the freckle on his nose. He wrote it down in a long - very long - list and wrote ways he'd fix each and every thing he hated. It was tedious, it took hours he didn't really have which cut into sleep. Which made him grumpy. Which meant fights were sure to happen.

They didn't. Not yet. But there was so much tension that around the 3Racha + Hyunjin dorm, the conversations at the dinner table were kept down low to just simple things about work.

That was until New Years Eve.

"Where the hell is Han?" Their manager exclaimed, banging the door open into the dressing room.

"What?" Felix asked, glancing up from where he was scrolling through the members' Instagram pictures.

"Is he not in here?" The manager asked, eyes scanning the small room. It was crammed, but it was pretty obvious there was no Jisung. His makeup stylist was standing in the corner, brushes prepared but no Jisung to work with. She shrugged at the manager then turned her eyes over to Chan who was currently counting heads.

"Where is that kid?" The manager hissed, pulling out his phone to text some other staff.

"What's going on?" Changbin asked, crossing his arms as he leaned back into the couch beside Felix. "We have plenty of time before the stage. He's probably in the bathroom or something."

"Yeah. He sometimes get's stomach aches before big stages." Jeongin offered innocently. "You know that, manager-hyung."

"Well, he's not in the bathroom." Their manager gritted through clenched teeth. "He's not in the bathroom. Not in the dressing room. Not in the wings. Not in the light booth. Not in the sound booth. Not in the vans. He's not with his personal manager. He's not with his stylist. He's not in the med room. He's not in the girls' room."

"What?" Seungmin and Hyunjin asked in unison.

"I don't know!" The man exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "I was desperate enough to start searching the crowd of fans outside in case he - for some reason - thought mingling with total strangers was a good idea."

"So... he's just not here?" Changbin asked, furrowing his brow.

"Yes. Currently, Jisung is missing in action. I'm texting all staff, but so far no one has seen him for the past thirty minutes."

Chan found all eyes on him - including the manager's. He was the leader. And while JYPE was in charge of the group and the members, Chan had a bigger part to play in their lives. He chose them. They accepted him. Same went for the company but it was a different kind of bond with Chan. A bond all members had with him that didn't exist in any other relationship. A mutual - I will give my life to you. Whether that be through late nights in the studio recording, or through the literal action of dying for each other - which, should never have to happen but if it did - there was no doubt that Chan would be the first to lay down his life for them.

That's why he abandoned his spot in the corner and jogged to the door. "Minho, come with me. Everyone else, you stay here."

"But hyung!" Felix exclaimed, already jumping to his feet.

"Not now, Lix. Stay." And the two oldest members were out of the room.

"It's okay, Yongbokkie." Changbin cooed, wrapping an arm around the young dancer. "Hannie probably just walked down the wrong hallway and got lost."

"But something's wrong with him, hyung." Hyunjin spoke carefully, very aware of all the staff and managers. "Something's seriously wrong with him."

"Let's just trust Channie and Minho, yeah?" Changbin offered, though his heart was pounding. Maybe it was just something normal, and nothing to be concerned about. But they kept saying that, and the last few weeks Han just didn't seem right. What if they were wrong to believe it was okay? And what would the consequences be for not seeing the signs soon enough? Changbin refused to believe it could be that bad. He tried to trust his hyungs... but it was proving really difficult.

Chapter Text

Han wasn't lost. He knew exactly where he was.

Well, vaguely.

He knew he was in the venue for their New Year's Eve performance. He knew he was in the venue's lobby bathroom where they weren't supposed to go because in about thirty minutes, fans would be in here. But as dangerous as that was, it felt safe to him because no one from backstage would assume he was this stupid to come out here.

Well, he didn't exactly feel "safe" here either. No, not at all. He was terrified out of his mind.

I can't do this. I can't perform. I'm not okay. I'm really not okay. He was crying so hard that he gagged, leaning over the toilet in front of him but there was nothing to bring up. It made his stomach ache and he felt like he could pass out at any second. But the tears wouldn't stop. He was crying so hard the sounds reverberated around the bathroom, mocking him.

You aren't worth it, Jisung. You're dragging them all down. They hate you. Everyone hates you. But no one hates you more than yourself. You're worthless. It would be better if you were dead.

Stop. Please. Please, stop. I can't do this anymore. Please, shut up!

You're not strong enough to do this. You never were. You never will be.

"SHUT UP!" Han slammed his fist on the toilet as another gag had him doubled over. The air in the bathroom was hot and suffocating, he'd lost feeling in his hands and feet long ago and now just felt pins and needles in his arms and legs. He knew exactly what was happening to his body.

But I'm not supposed to be having issues like this anymore. I'm supposed to be fixed. I'm supposed to be okay. Why am I not okay?!

"STOP IT!" Han shouted at the voices in his mind. Too loud. Too much. It hurt. It hurt so badly. He couldn't breathe; couldn't think above the hatred. The voice was right about one thing though - he'd rather be dead than have to perform tonight. "NO! SHUT UP! I DON'T WANT TO DIE! STOP IT! PLEASE!" He broke off into a sob, a whimpered "please" pulling itself out of his throat.

The whine was in time with the hinges of the door, so he wasn't aware of anyone entering. He didn't assume it would be anything he'd have to worry about. Not that he could worry about it. It hurt too badly to be scared someone would find him. He almost wished someone would.

"Han? What's going on, man?" He heard the squeak of the stall door being fully opened from where he'd left it ajar, but he didn't have the strength nor courage to turn around and actually see who it was. He recognized the voice, but other than the fact that it was familiar and somewhat "fatherly" he didn't know much else. His brain was rapidly fading and everything felt a million miles away.

But as much as he wanted the help, the voice that was in charge of his mind - his everything - was still in control. "Chan, get out!" Han screamed, kicking his legs back though they didn't hit anything but the wall of the stall. "Go away! Get out, Chan! GET OUT!"

There was a second of silence from the other person, in which Han cried pathetically into the toilet seat before another gagging fit took over - to the point he was basically dry heaving. He was shocked nothing was coming up, but there was nothing to come up. He was so hungry.

"Okay. Han? You alright if I help you out here, bud?"

"GET OUT, CHAN!" Han shrieked, completely losing control of anything and everything. He hated Chan so much. Hated him to the point that he wanted to turn around and strangle him.

No, he didn't want to strangle Chan. He'd rather strangle himself for thinking he'd want to hurt the most precious person in the world. He banged his head on the toilet seat once. Again. Again. He already couldn't think straight, might as well add a brain injury for fun, right?

One hand gripped his shoulder, pulling him back, while another resting on his forehead to protect it from the porcelain. Protection. Finally. Someone was stepping in to help. Not that he wanted anyone to... no. That was the evil voice in his head speaking. Han - the softer, scared Han - desperately wanted help.

Held back from danger, he sobbed. He gagged on every other breath and his eyes were rolled up, seconds from actually passing out, but it seemed his body couldn't even do that much right. He was stuck in limbo - somewhere between being completely dead to the world, and somehow hyper aware of the pins and needles in his arms and legs and the way his throat ached from choking on air and gagging.

Everything was uncomfortable. The only comfortable thing was the heartbeat pounding rhythmically by his ear. He didn't know who this was now. He'd thought it was Chan, but this was definitely not Chan's chest nor his hands.

The voice was quieting down - the first time it did so in what seemed like forever. The only thing now seemingly capable of drowning it out was a heartbeat. And Han let the darkness take him as far as it would. He couldn't' feel anything but the pounding in his own head, and the steady drum of the heart by his ear.

When he realized he could breathe, relief flooded through the rapper so quickly, he sighed and relaxed every muscle in his body. He forgot how terrifying his attacks could be. At this point, he'd forgotten half of them, and the other half were shoved in a dusty box in the very far corner of his mind on the wait list to be forgotten.

"So, just an off day, eh?"

Han's eyes snapped open, but the world was blurry and gray, and the light pierced his skull. Wincing, he turned into the chest he'd been leaning back against, still aware of the hand on his forehead. "You... what are you doing?" He asked, only vaguely aware that he was currently crying into the arms of none other than Tiger JK.

"I'm trying to help you, that's what."

Han shook his head, trying to push away, but the grip on his shoulder and forehead tightened, keeping him in place. "Sorry. Sorry. I'm fine. Really."

"Convincing. But you're going to have to do a lot more than give me a verbal affirmation that you're okay, Han. Do you realize how shocking it is to an old man when he's just trying to find a quiet place to warm up and he stumbles into a little boy banging his head against a toilet, screaming for his group's leader to get out."

"Thought you were Chan. Sorry. I'm fine." Another feeble attempt at getting away, but it was in vain.

"So, does he know that you have panic attacks?"

The word ended Han's world. Yeah, he knew exactly what just happened. But admitting it, hearing the word said aloud, was too much. He was supposed to be fine. And if he wasn't, he was supposed to be able to fix it on his own. He's an adult. He's not the same little eighteen-year-old he was when he went to therapy. He didn't need to hide in Minho, Chan, or Changbin's arms when he felt overwhelmed. He's fine.

No, I'm not. That's pretty obvious.

"He... used to know." Han admitted, and this time when he pushed away, he was let go of. Sitting back, knees pulled up to his chest, Jisung couldn't remember the last time feeling this vulnerable. Maybe he'd never been this vulnerable before. Here he was, a mess after one of the world's worst breakdowns - or at least one of his so far as he could recall - in front of the man he admired most.

Worthless. Pathetic. Stupid. Ugly.

"Used to know?" The older rapper pressed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the opposite wall of the stall.

"I used to have - you know - episodes a lot. And I used to go to therapy."

"This is all in the past tense. Why did you stop if you still need it?"

"I don't need it!" Han snapped, then softened, mumbling rapid apologizes. "I'm sorry. It's just that I was fine. You don't believe, I can tell, but I was fine for a really long time. I don't know. Maybe I'm not fine anymore."

"That can happen." The older man let his head fall back against the stall. "You're young still, Han, you're still figuring things out, getting comfortable in your own skin. A person isn't even considered fully grown until they're 25 and last I checked, you're 23. You can't expect to be fine forever."

"But what about when other people expect it?"

"Your members?"

"I..." Han stared at his hands, picking at his nails. His stylist would be upset but he couldn't bring himself to stop. "I know my members would care."

"Have you even considered telling them you're not okay?"

Han managed a dry laugh. "No."

"Well, you need to think about it. Sooner rather than later."

"You're not going to tell them?"

"It's not my place, Han. Though, I highly recommend you take the chance to tell them. Especially if you're in danger of hurting yourself."

Jisung nodded, blood draining from his face as he recalled the small scab on his thigh. He wanted this conversation done with as fast as possible.

Wishes do come true... In this case at least. The door to the bathroom broke open and Chan's desperate cry for Han echoed through the mostly empty room.

Han rolled his eyes and wiped the remaining tears. "I'm in here, hyung."

"Oh, thank god." Minho breathed, running with the eldest to the stall that both Han and Tiger JK were sitting in. "What happened? Are you okay, Hannie? You look like crap."

He thinks you're hideous. Not just right now, but all the time. You always look like crap Han.

"I'm okay." Han attempted to say, but Chan's look made him clamp his jaw shut.

The leader's eyes turned to the older rapper, clearly not trusting Jisung to give a proper account. "What happened?" He asked, worry evident in his tone though he was clearly trying his hardest to keep control of himself.

"Han's not feeling the best. I think he's nauseous." The man answered casually, pushing himself to his feet. "My guess is that it's stage fright. Probably performing with me, sorry Han, I know performing with your idol can be a little overwhelming."

"Huh, yeah." Han breathed, bowing his head.

"I'll leave so you can collect yourself. Just... make smart choices, Han." With that, the man left the three boys in the bathroom alone.

Han wished he could say more to his idol, thank him for covering. He was too exhausted to have a conversation with Chan and Minho right now anyways. Maybe later.

But probably not.

"Where were you?" Chan asked, crossing his arms.

"Here. I felt nauseous." Han pushed himself upright, his legs felt like they were going to snap beneath his weight.

Because I'm so fat.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Minho asked, mimicking Chan's posture.

"Didn't want to be a burden. Sorry."

"Oh, Sungie." Chan huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're not a burden, but please, you gotta talk to us. Everyone was freaking out. No one knew where you were."

"Sorry."

"It's fine. Let's head back."

It wasn't fine. It really wasn't fine. He didn't want to be there with the others. So many eyes, so many judgmental minds. None as bad as his own, but still.

When did I get this bad? How do I go back to being okay? Will I ever be okay? Or am I stuck being an outsider - the one member of the group always causing issues and can never control himself? I don't deserve them. And they deserve so much better than me.

I hate myself. I hate myself so much.

But I love them.

But I think I hate myself more.

"Hey, Chan, can you hold on a second?"

Chan turned back after having jumped out of the van. It had been a long night - the performance went well at least - and now the members were being driven back to their dorms. Changbin, Han, and Hyunjin were already heading inside, so Chan stepped back to the van and their newer manager. "Sure, what do you need?"

"Get in, it's cold out right now." The manager said gently, beckoning the leader in the passenger's seat.

Chan had to admit, it was freezing, his breath was fogging up the air and even with his coat on he felt like he was hypothermic. He climbed in and closed the door, watching as the other three members closed the door to their dorm. He turned back to the manager who was staring out the front windshield like he was trying to read a script for what to say.

"Is everything alright?" Chan started, leaning back against the door so he could face the manager.

"Yes." He blurted. "Well, actually, no. Listen Chan, I'm not supposed to be telling you this, the company doesn't want you to know, so you've got to keep your mouth shut, understood?"

Chan's heart skipped several beats before he was able to nod his head. His mouth had gone too dry to try to respond verbally. He was all ears though.

"Good. I just, I need you to know, because I like working for your boys, I think you're all great kids - adults, sorry."

Chan chuckled, though his was dying on the inside to know what this was about.

"But the company has been talking a lot about Han."

Chan wet his lips, "What about him?"

"Well, you know how he argued with me last week? I'm fine with that, I understand that sometimes anger gets the best of us, but JYPE is really not okay with that. And, you know how our staff meetings can be, especially with the company supervisors. They want to know every little detail. And more often than not, those details have been about Han losing focus, leaving his vocal practices early, not offering new ideas for songs or concepts or whatever. Just not being interested in his job at all."

Chan felt waves of heat and ice roll over him. He knew his hands were shaking from where they were stuffed in his coat's pockets. But to say he wasn't terrified would be a lie. He was petrified. All he could do was sit there and stare at the manager.

"After today, the whole MIA incident, the company is about ready to put him on a hiatus until they can sort things out. But, Chan, I'm just saying, if he does one more thing that the company disagrees with, I wouldn't be so much concerned about the hiatus, as I would be with a fake scandal ending his career with JYPE."

Chan world's shattered at those words. Han, his first kid, the first person he let himself love after having lost so much in his trainee days, was going to be taken away from him. He was going to lose his little brother. "I... what can I do?"

"Keep him in line." The manager shrugged. "I bet that if a couple weeks go by where nothing happens, the whole thing will blow over. The supervisors are just really tense right now and they said he's had too many strikes consecutively. But give it a month without problems, and I bet it will be fine."

"I hope so." Chan sighed, running a shaking hand through his hair.

"I'll do my best to defend him, but I don't think there's much I can do being so new. Telling you is the best I could think of."

"Thank you. Thank you for telling me. I'll... I'll watch him." Chan popped the door open, now numb to the sharp coldness outside. It was almost a relief - that van felt so hot and suffocating.

Chan dragged his feet to the dorm but couldn't bring himself to go inside. Everything was crashing down on him, and it didn't feel real. He couldn't lose Han. He was such an important part of the group. Maybe the manager had been overexaggerating - that's the most likely case since nothing Han had done had been too offensive. But then again, did he want to mess around and find out? Absolutely not. He wouldn't lose Han, no matter what it took.

Chapter Text

New Years Day. A day of celebration. So, one brownie wouldn't hurt... right?

Felix had made his amazing brownies, and the three dozen desserts were sitting out on the table just begging Han to eat them. It was in his allotted hour of eating, so one brownie wouldn't hurt him at all. He grabbed the smallest one he could and joined the rest of the boys playing Mafia in the crammed living room. There was a reason it was four boys per dorm and not eight all in one.

He ended up having to stand, too scared to sit on someone's lap and make them support his weight. But he could still enjoy the game from here - or at least attempt to.

"It's Changbin hyung." Felix declared, leaning back on the couch into Bang Chan. "It's gotta be him."

"What?" The rapper exclaimed, eyes wide. "You don't have any proof Lixie."

"I don't need proof. I have a gut feeling. I know it's you, hyung. You violently murdered Jeongin, Minho, and Han. I know it was you."

"Evidence?" Seungmin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Intuition." Felix nodded.

"We could play another round." Hyunjin - who had taken the role of narrator - offered.

"But then we'll lose!" Felix exclaimed. "If he murders one more person - which it'll probably be me because I'm onto him - then there's only two people left and if they vote, and he survives, then the mafia will win!"

"How about this." Chan chuckled, "If you get murdered this round, we'll vote Changbin."

"I don't necessarily like being the bait. Plus, he just heard your plan. But sure, whatever."

They closed their eyes, and another round was initiated. Han wandered mindlessly into the kitchen and grabbed another brownie. It tasted so good. He inhaled that brownie and grabbed another one without thinking before walking back into the living room to see the results.

Seungmin had been killed off, but Felix was adamant it was Changbin still.

"Alright, sorry, Bin." Chan shrugged. "I'll agree with Felix and vote you off."

"No way." Hyunjin laughed.

"I seriously wasn't the murderer though!" Changbin exclaimed, pelting the throw pillow on his lap across the room at Felix who ducked just in time for the pillow to hit Chan behind him.

"If it wasn't you then..." Felix slowly turned around, finding his leader to be smirking down at him. "No way. It was you?! I trusted you, hyung!"

"That was so fun to watch." Hyunjin laughed, slipping off the couch and onto Jeongin's lap on the floor.

"Should we play another game? It's not that late yet." Jeongin asked, glancing around at the older members.

Han shuffled back to the kitchen and grabbed another brownie... two more brownies... before he headed back to the living room as the members debated which game to play. They kept arguing - lightheartedly of course - Han kept making trips to and from the kitchen.

They finally settled on doing some karaoke since that seemed to be the only thing anyone could agree on.

"I'll set up the TV." Chan offered, pushing Felix off his lap.

The younger, blonde, aussie stood up, headed into the kitchen and stared at the pan of brownies he'd made. "Holy cow, who ate literally ten brownies?"

"What?" Seungmin asked, sitting up straighter to see over the back of the couch.

"Yeah, someone ate a ton of brownies." Felix laughed, grabbing a broken piece and popping it in his mouth.

Han's face went red as he looked down at the brownie half eaten in his hand. He'd made several trips to and from the kitchen, mindlessly eating. And, for the first time in what felt like forever, his stomach didn't feel empty. He felt uncomfortably full.

Oh no. Oh, no, no, no. Very, VERY, bad!

"Ji?" Hyungjin chuckled, glancing over at the younger member. "I'm assuming you're the culprit. You have that guilty look on your face."

"Yeah, you do." Jeongin laughed.

Han knew he looked guilty. He felt guilty. All that work for nothing. He'd just gain all that weight back. He'd failed after trying so hard for so long. He barely even reached his goal for more than a few days. Now he was going to be fat. He should have known he'd never lose that weight. He was fat. He'd always be fat. He'd always fail in everything he did. He was worthless, stupid, a waste of space. The group was better off without someone who couldn't even control himself when it came to brownies. He didn't fit in. And now he felt sick.

"Hey, you okay?" Minho asked, furrowing his brow.

Han had almost forgotten he was still standing in front of the members. And while Changbin and Seungmin were busy wrestling on the floor, and Chan was setting up the tv, he still had four pairs of eyes on him.

They think I'm fat. They see it now. They know I'm fat. I'm so fat. So, so fat.

"Jisung!"

Han jumped, eyes darting around to room only to fall back on Minho, who was standing up from his spot on the armrest of the couch.

"Sorry, guess I zoned out there for a second." Han chuckled, picking at the brownie in his hand. He wasn't going to finish it. He'd eaten so much already. He wanted to just pop it in his mouth, but his stomach hurt already, and he was sure that if he tried to take another bite, he'd actually throw everything up... maybe that wasn't a bad idea though.

"You doing okay, hyung?" Felix asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Yeah. Of course." Han offered a smile, but glancing back at Minho, he looked anything but convinced.

They know. They know and they're mad. They're going to demand answers. They hate me. They hate me just as much as I hate myself.

"Really, Ji, you don't look so good right now." Hyunjin added, his eyes piercing through Jisung.

His skin was crawling, and he felt so, so sick. It took about five seconds for the realization to hit him. He wasn't just feeling sick from humiliation - he was going to throw up.

Cupping a hand over his mouth, Han bolted down the hallway.

He could just hear Minho exclaim, "Shit! I forgot he was nauseous yesterday!" Before he slammed the bathroom door shut and collapsed to his knees in front of the toilet. He immediately threw the brownie away - he couldn't even look at it anymore without feeling sick.

He was gagging yesterday from crying so hard, but he hadn't been nauseous; The lie that he and Tiger JK had made up was so well fabricated that Chan and Minho accepted it as fact. But now he actually was nauseous. Maybe he was just so repulsed by himself that he was physically ill, or perhaps he really was coming down with something. Then again, his stomach was not used to this much food intake - that's probably the real cause of the nausea licking up his throat.

He groaned, dropping his head on the toilet seat. A soft knock on the door got him to lift his head, but by now the entire room was listing to the side. He couldn't answer - answering meant the risk of opening his mouth and not only words coming out but all those brownies too.

So, instead, the door opened on its own and Minho poked his head in. "Oh, Hannie, you really aren't feeling well, are you?"

Mentally or physically? Because currently, both are down in the dumps.

"Everything is spinning, hyung." Han whimpered, dropping his forehead back onto the toilet seat.

"Did you eat too much tonight?" Minho asked, walking over to the linens cabinet and pulling out a washcloth.

"Yeah." Han sighed, swallowing back the nausea rolling in his throat. He definitely ate too much. Way, way too much. He was a disgusting, fat, ugly, worthless person. The next whimper that was pulled from him had nothing to do with the nausea and everything to do with the desire to block the voice in his head out.

He heard the sink water run and then felt a cool, damp, towel be laid across the back of his neck. "There you go, Hannie. Let me get the thermometer."

"I don't have a fever, hyung."

"I know. But I still want to check. Humor me?"

"Mm."

Han stared at his reflection in the toilet water - this was becoming a common occurrence. What happened to healthy, happy Han? All he saw when he stared at that reflection was a gross, sick, very not okay Han. When did that change?

"Lift your head." Minho's voice pulled him from his thoughts and he lifted himself up a bit and opened his mouth to let the elder stick the thermometer under his tongue. Minho stood up and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched the numbers blink and change. "When did you start feeling sick, Hannie? Just yesterday?"

Han tried to see the numbers but it was too close to his face and going cross-eyed made his head spin even more. Suddenly, an idea popped in. If he played this up, he could skip practice tomorrow. He could lie in bed and not do anything - which is exactly what he'd been wanting to do this entire time. "I dunno." He mumbled around the thermometer.

"Hmm." Minho hummed, eyes glued to the numbers. When the device beeped, Han pulled it out and saw 97.7 degrees Fahrenheit.

"No fever. Told you so." He sighed, handing it back to the dancer who wiped it down with an alcohol pad.

"I know, Hannie, but it settles my nerves, okay? I don't know if you would tell me if you're not feeling well so I have to check for myself."

"I would, hyung."

"Would you though?"

Minho and Han stared at each other for several seconds. Han had to tear his eyes away after a while because he knew that the elder was seeing straight through his disguise. It was unraveling anyways, he had to do everything to keep himself from completely falling apart now. "I just don't feel good right now, hyung. Feel like I might throw up."

"While you don't have a fever, that doesn't mean you're not coming down with something. I'll get Chan hyung and see if you can miss practice tomorrow morning to sleep in. I know you have a meeting in the afternoon that's really important but I'm sure they'd let you miss the first half of the day. To be honest, I don't know why you have rapping lessons tomorrow - you don't need them. For you, they're kind of redundant."

Like me, I'm redundant - I'm useless and unnecessary now. Han thought then quickly shook his head trying to get the voice to quiet down. It didn't work. It started a monologue about how painful it would be if Minho decided to tell him how unimportant and worthless he was to his face. He physically winced at the thought.

"Stay here, Hannie." Minho ended, after having cleaned up the thermometer.

"Not going anywhere." Han sighed, dropping his head back to the toilet seat.

He heard the bathroom door open and close before he felt the loneliness sink back in. Wouldn't it just be better if he threw up? Then he'd lose the weight he was about to gain from those brownies.

It wasn't a terrible idea.

Han glanced over at the door, listening carefully for any footsteps. None. He turned back to the toilet and stared at his hideous self in the reflection. He wasn't exactly sure how to do this, but triggering his gag reflex had to be a sure way to make it work.

Thinking quickly, Han brought two fingers up to his mouth. He shoved them in, going immediately to the soft palate. Just barely brushing against it, he gagged, yanking his fingers out of his mouth.

Nothing. He just gagged and his stomach clenched but nothing came up.

Again? Again.

He tried again, this time poking his finger even farther in his mouth. He gagged more violently, bringing tears to his eyes, but nothing came up. He really couldn't get anything right, could he? Not even this. The tears that were burning his eyes slipped down his cheeks and his hand fell limply to the floor.

Worthless, Jisung, you're worthless.

The phantom feeling of his fingers in his throat brought another gag, but nothing else. He felt awful. He wasn't even sick - he'd just filled his stomach too much and freaked himself out. He was making things worse for himself. Now, he'd get Chan and Minho involved. It would impact the whole group now. Oh, he was the worst person alive.

The drum of fingers on the door paused the gagging for a split second. Enough for the boy to glance over as he watched Chan and Minho step inside.

"Hey, bud, not feeling well?" Chan asked, offering a sad smile.

In response, Han gagged and leaned back over the toilet as more tears filled his eyes. He felt so awful - he didn't realize mental pain could result in physical pain but this was worse than his broken toe. Every inch of him ached, inside and out. He couldn't handle pain like this - it hurt so much. Tears streamed down his cheeks, pattering into the toilet water. "I don't feel good, hyung." He cried, violently wiping his eyes. "I don't want to go tomorrow."

"Oh, Jisung." Chan cooed, squatting beside the maknae of the 3Racha. He pressed his hand to his forehead but shook his head and pulled back. "No fever. What are you feeling, Ji?"

"Not good." Han whimpered, rubbing his eyes again since the tears wouldn't let up.

"I can see that." Chan chuckled, though it was a very sad sound, like he was trying to hold back tears. "How about Minho gets you to bed, and I'll call the company and see if we can get you a sick day tomorrow. How does that sound?" There was a total lack of confidence in Chan's voice that was usually there, but Han didn't have the brain power to figure out why.

"Thanks." He sighed, dropping his forehead to the toilet seat once more.

"Alright, bud." Chan ruffled his hair before standing up and turning to Minho. Mouthing "watch him" to the dancer, Chan hurried out of the room to find his phone.

"Hannie?" Minho called, taking Chan's place, squatting beside the younger. "Let's get you to bed alright?"

"Okay." Han pushed himself away from the toilet and stood up, balancing himself against the wall. "Gotta brush my teeth first."

Minho nodded. He didn't move an inch, just watching in silence as the younger quickly brushed his teeth and splashed some water on his face, abandoning the normal care he'd put into skincare. Han didn't even turn to Minho, instead, he just left the bathroom. The dancer followed him down the hallway to his bedroom.

"You gonna change?" Minho asked, flipping the lamp on while Jisung just flopped into the bed.

"No. Just sleep." There were reasons he wasn't going to take his shirt and pants off in front of Minho - the main reason being he'd see how fat he was. The second reason being that although his boxers covered the small scab on his hip, he was not about to risk exposing it.

Minho chuckled, rolling Jisung over so he was lying properly. He pulled the blanket up around the rapper, and crossed his arms, staring down at his work. "I'll probably take the rest of the boys back to the dorm soon, but if you need anything, just ask Changbin, Chan hyung, or Hyunjin. Call me too if you want."

"Mhm."

"Night, Hannie."

"Mm."

The lamp was clicked off and Minho's soft footfall was gone and the door creaked shut. Perfect. Silence.

But it was never silent. Voices screamed in Jisung's head. Covering his ears didn't help. Nothing helped. He laid awake for hours, tears long gone, and nausea a distant concept. All he felt was the buzz of hatred flowing through him.

He would never be enough. He'd never fit in with the rest of the members.

Han did get the next morning off. He was feeling fine though. Well, as fine as he could feel.

Although the nausea - the real nausea and not the made-up kind to hide his panic attack - was gone, the voice in his head wouldn't shut up.

So, he tried to drown it out with music. Blasting some of their old songs, Han attempted to redo the dances they hadn't practiced in a while. Doing Get Cool brought back some great memories of a time he wasn't crying himself to sleep at night. He was doing the bridge part when he heard a voice.

"Hannie? I thought you were sick."

Han spun around to find Chan standing in the doorway. He'd completely forgotten the fact that Chan said he'd come back to get him at noon. His cheeks went red, and his mouth popped open, but he couldn't find the words to say.

"Are you feeling better then?"

Han nodded, clamping his mouth shut since he clearly wasn't going to get anything worthwhile out.

Chan shrugged. "You ready to come to the company then? We have that 3Racha meeting this afternoon. We're discussing concept for the next album and picking songs we want to add to it."

"I..." Han swallowed; his mouth worked faster than his brain though. "I don't want to go."

"What?" Chan asked, eyes wide. "What do you mean you don't want to go? Are you feeling really sick?"

"Umm, no. I'm okay." That's a lie but whatever.

"Then you need to come, Ji. It's an important meeting. If you were still hunched over a toilet then maybe we could reschedule but the company really doesn't want to reschedule. JYP is going to be there."

Han cringed internally. How could he back himself up? He really didn't want to go. Not just because he hated meetings because he felt worthless during them, but because he just could not mentally handle anything right now. Last time he'd tried to prepare himself to be in front of several pairs of eyes, he'd been panicking on the bathroom floor. He didn't want a repeat.

Chan noticed the hesitation. "You know it probably won't last more than an hour - two at the most. You don't need to say much. Just offer up some ideas for songs we've written recently and insight into those songs. You know, the usual."

"I haven't..." He cleared his throat. "I haven't been writing."

Chan blinked a total of seven times before he could manage the word "what?".

Han took a deep breath. "I haven't been writing songs."

"What have you been doing in your room all this time then?"

"Attempting to write." Han admitted, easily lying to his leader's face. He knew what he did behind closed doors - and a lot of it was stuff he'd never admit to like searching up ways to starve himself, critiquing pictures, hating himself - the normal. God, he hated that that's his normal.

"Attempting to write? So, you have been writing?" Chan raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms at Han like a disappointed father.

Jisung couldn't meet his eyes anymore. "Not exactly. No. I haven't written anything actually. The last thing I wrote was that rap verse for that beat you made."

"Han. That was a month ago."

"Was it? Oh."

"Jisung, this is your job. You've gotta write more. You need to be at this meeting. I'd say it's fine if you're still really sick, but you're doing alright now, so you need to be there."

Jisung shook his head. "No. I can't."

"Why not?" Chan's tone made Han shudder. Chan wasn't mad - he knew that - he was just... disappointed. Very disappointed. Of course he was disappointed; Jisung should've known that was coming.

"I don't..."

"Jisung, if you say, "I don't want to be there" that is not a good reason."

"But it is my reason, hyung!" Han exclaimed, crossing his arms to mirror Chan's position. "I don't want to go. I don't have anything written. No one at those meetings cares what I have to say anyways."

"I care what you have to say, Ji. So does Changbin."

"Really?" Han asked, a breathy laugh escaping him. "Because no one seems to care at all. Last meeting no one asked my opinion on anything. Not you. Not anyone. So, I don't get why I need to be there."

Chan's face was going white, like he was terrified of an argument breaking out between them. And the tension in his jaw, making his tone tight and clearly upset, was a sure sign of a very strong emotion being suppressed. "Because we're a team, Jisung. I want you to be there, even if you don't say anything."

"Why does your want outweigh my want?" Han knew he was being ridiculous. But he knew that as soon as he walked into that meeting, he'd never make it through the whole thing. He felt like crying already. It was too much. Way too much. Everything was so loud and so vivid it hurt.

"Because I'm your leader, Jisung."

"I'm an adult. You don't get a say over my life."

"You're right, I don't get a say over your personal life. But this is your work life, and I do get a say over that." Chan stared hard at Jisung, waiting patiently as possible for reason to take over him. This is exactly what happened a few weeks ago with the manager that night after their long dance practice. Why was he so keen on arguing with authority now? What had changed from the fun-loving, easy-going Han to make him into this bitter, barely attentive person? And after the conversation with the manager two days ago... Chan didn't like the direction this was going. "You're coming with me, Jisung, whether you want to or not. I'm sorry, but that's just the way things are."

"Go away." Han snapped, though he stepped back like a terrified animal; A kitten with claws and teeth bared but hair sticking straight up and back arched.

"Jisung, I don't want you to face the punishments of not coming to this meeting."

"But what if I'm not healthy?"

"Don't be like that, Ji."

"Don't be like what?"

Chan sighed, closing his eyes for several seconds. "Look, if you don't listen to me right now, the company is going to intervene, and we both know what that means. Remember Woojin? Remember Hyunjin's hiatus? Do you want that to happen?"

"I don't care, just go away, Chan." Han backed up, lowering his gaze to the floor.

"Jisung, I care."

"Well don't!" Han shouted. Both he and Chan stood frozen for a second. But the voice in his head was using him as a vessel and he couldn't make it stop. Everything was so loud it hurt. Everything was too much. He couldn't do this. Didn't Chan see that? No, no he couldn't see it. Han hid it too well. No one saw it. "This is my life, so let me do my own thing. You're not in charge of me and if I get kicked out that not your problem, it's mine. So go away, Chan. Just go away."

"Jisung, please." Chan reached out like he'd pull the rapper into arms and hold him forever.

Han wanted it. So, so badly wanted it. But as soon as Chan's fingers brushed his arm, his skin crawled, and his heart hammered against his chest so hard he thought it would burst.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

"Hey, Jisung, what's going on with you?"

"GO AWAY, CHAN. GET OUT. LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"Jisung, I-"

"I HATE YOU, CHAN!"

Silence. Silence outside, but inside Han's head was the most noise. It was as loud as their concerts, but just from a voice screaming at him, blaming him for everything. Why did it have to be so loud.

"Jisung, take that back." The words held authority, but when Han looked back at Chan, the elder looked like he was about to cry. "Please, take that back."

Han's heart was breaking. It had already been obliterated before after taking all the pain he'd been in, but it was like it was being ground up into dust and sprinkled into the ocean to be washed away forever.

The silence carried on for far too long and the tears built up in Chan's eyes. Han had to look away, which, in retrospect, probably looked like disrespect and a lack of care. "I need a minute." The elder sighed, though in that moment, he sounded like a child. He turned and headed for the door opened it and left just as easily as he had arrived.

Though what passed between them could never be reversed.

Han bolted from the living room, sprinted down the hallway and slammed the bathroom door shut. He locked it just in case Chan returned quickly.

Han sank against the far wall, pulling his knees up to his chest, digging his nails into his skin. He could barely even hear Chan pleading to be let in. All he could hear was the hatred. He hated himself so much. He screamed at Chan for trying to help him - protect him. Someone who loved him, someone he loved. And that someone he loved, he just told he hated.

He gripped his hair, pulling it as hard as he could. He deserved the pain. He deserved it and so much more. Every inch of pain he felt right now he deserved it and then some. Pulling his hair wasn't enough. He banged his head back against the wall, pain jolting through his skull until every part of his head hurt so badly it brought tears to his eyes.

Still, there was no silence.

It's not working. I need more. I deserve more. I deserved all of it. Han yanked open the shower curtain, hand flying to Hyunjin's old rusty razor. He slid down to the floor, pulling his pants down to reveal the small barely visible scab on his thigh.

He thought he knew what he was doing this time. He was certain he was completely aware of it. All he knew was that he wanted it. He deserved it. Wasn't that the same thing?

I want everything that's happened to me. I wanted to lose weight, so I hardly ate. I wanted to be alone, so I pushed them all away. I want the pain too, don't I? I'm a monster.

He pushed the razor against his thigh and sliced sideways - hard.

Blood immediately rushed to the surface. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough blood. He needed to see more. He needed to know he still bled red, that he was still human and not a monster. Again. Again. And again. Eight cuts. Eight for the eight people he was hurting by doing this.

Only then did he stop.

Silence.

It was finally quiet.

He sighed, letting his aching head fall back against the wall. His eyes slipped shut, the pain finally registering in full. It stung.

He glanced down. The horrible, monstrous Jisung that lived in his head was gone. Leaving the timid, shy, terrified Jisung to deal with the consequences once again. There were eight cuts after all, he was one of the people he was hurting too.

"No." He whispered, watching the little droplets of blood roll down his leg. "No, wait." He sat up straighter, the pain in his thigh mingling with the pain in his head but it was quiet enough for him to process everything in full now.

"No, no, stop." He pressed his hands over the cuts. "Wait, don't. No." Tears blurred his vision and blinking sent them racing down his cheeks. "This wasn't supposed to happen again." He pulled his hands away surveying the damage he'd done. While last time, the little cut did bleed, he was sure it wouldn't scar. This though? This would scar. He'd carry the marks of this forever.

"No. Please, stop. I didn't mean to." He reached over for toilet paper, dabbing it against the blood. "I didn't want to do this. I didn't mean it. Stop. Please, stop."

But the blood didn't obey, it just kept rolling down his thigh.

Wiping his eyes, he stood up. But the skin pulled tight, and a gasp of pain worked its way out of his mouth. He clamped his hand over it, eyes shooting to the door. But Chan wasn't back yet, so it seemed. But he could be back any moment.

He dragged himself to the sink, whimpering with each movement of his leg. The cuts weren't deep, but they did hurt. He cleaned them the best he could and put a band aid over them. He couldn't cover them forever, and one day the scars would be visible to someone - proof of what he'd done to himself.

He threw away the toilet paper and picked the razor up.

He couldn't do this again. He didn't want to be hurting. He wanted to be okay. The razor was too much of a temptation. In a second, he'd snapped the razor in half.

But the razor wasn't his, it's Hyunjin's. Panicking, he shoved it behind Changbin's shampoo bottle, hoping to hide it from his roommate.

Just as Han stepped out of his room, the front door opened, and Chan stepped inside. His face was flushed, like he'd been crying really hard, but any other evidence of crying was gone. He froze when he saw Han though and studied the younger carefully.

Han offered a smile. "I'm really sorry, Channie hyung. I don't know what happened to me. I'll go to the meeting now."

Chan looked absolutely terrified, like Han was a zombie standing right there in front of him. That wouldn't be too far off how the rapper felt though.

"Sorry, hyung. Really, I'm really sorry."

"I..." Chan blinked a few times, attempting to orient himself. "I'm not mad, Jisung. I'm worried. Extremely worried."

"Don't be. I'm fine." Liar.

"I'm always going to worry, Ji. I care about you."

"You shouldn't." He zipped his coat up.

"Are you doing okay, Jisung?"

"Yep - I'm fine. Let's go." He yanked the door open, leg burning from the self-inflicted wounds. When did he get so good at lying?

Chapter Text

"You gonna slow down there, Sungie?" Changbin chuckled, glancing over at where Han was scarfing down a bag of chips.

"Shut up." Han snapped, turning his back to the rapper though he continued to stuff his face with the snack. He hated himself; he's disgustingly fat.

Changbin furrowed his brow. "You were nauseous yesterday, Hannie, you might want to slow down so you don't feel sick again."

"I can take care of myself." Han hissed.

"Hannie." Changbin stood up from the couch, rounding it to come to the kitchen. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing." The younger responded harshly.

"Hey, Sung, look at me. What is going on with you? You've been acting weird for a while now."

Jisung's heart hammered, and he kept his gaze away from Changbin. He was eating so much today; he couldn't bring himself to stop. He hated it, hated himself. He'd rather die right now than face the embarrassment that awaited him if his members found out anything. But he didn't know how to hide it anymore. The only way he could cover it up was with anger. Because it was easier to be angry than to be crying and in pain. But the madness only muffled the emotions swirling in the back, there was only so much that false anger could do.

"Jisung. Hey, look at me. What's up, Sungie? You've been so distant lately."

"Yeah, and?" Han snapped, glaring at Changbin.

Just tell him, Jisung. Just tell him. Please, you can't yell at another member. Not after what you did to Chan yesterday. No more, you have to admit it. Please, just admit it!

Attention-seeking, worthless, fat, ugly, stupid, you should just go and cut yourself since that's all you seem to know how to do anymore.

The skin on his leg still burned, barely healed. He winced in memory of the pain, but also for the mental pain that was washing over him in waves, threatening to drown him if he didn't get above the surface soon. He was trying though; he was trying so hard. But now what? Now he was binging, he'd reached his goal of 125lbs, but now he was going to gain it all back.

"You know you can tell me anything, Sungie. If you're feeling anxious or..."

"I'm not." Han blurted, crinkling up the chip bag and tossing it into the garbage can even though there were still chips inside. He needed it out of sight though or he'd gain even more weight. He hated himself, he half wished he hadn't snapped Hyunjin's razor in half... that didn't mean he couldn't still use it though.

"Would you tell us if you were feeling anxious again?" Changbin asked, leaning onto the counter to look up at Han on the opposite side.

"Yeah, of course." Not.

He started towards the hallway, the overwhelming urge to take Hyunjin's razor out from its hiding spot behind the shampoo bottle drawing him in like a magnet. He jumped when he heard the dorm door open and both he and Changbin glanced over just as their leader stepped in.

It was only 11pm, but Chan looked exhausted already even though most nights he'd stay out much later. "Hey, Bin... Han." He barely looked at the young rapper before retreating to his room, the door being slammed shut the only sound reverberating around the dorm.

He hates me. I ruined everything. This is on me. This is all my fault. I'll never be enough. I'll never fit in. They hate me.

How am I supposed to live when the only thing I love anymore hates me?

"Hey, Hannie, we're not done talking." Changbin called after him, but he slammed the door shut to his room, sliding down it until he could curl up into a ball on the floor. It was too much. Tiger JK had been right, he should have told the others sooner. It was too late now though. There was absolutely no way he could get the words out now. The only way they'd ever know would be when they found his body lifeless on the floor.

But I don't want to die.

Yes, you do. You want it even if you don't realize it.

I don't. I know I don't.

You said that you knew you were the ace of 4th gen and you're not. You said you knew that you were fine and you're not. You said you knew that the members loved you and they don't. You've been lying to yourself this entire time. This is it. This is the only thing that's been true: that you don't want to be alive anymore.

It's not true though. I still love my members even if they don't love me back. I'll always love them even though they hate me.

Han slammed his head back against the door, making it feel like the entire room was rattling. Immediately he heard a loud voice and winced. They were going to come yell at him because they hate him.

But that wasn't the case. He heard the footsteps pound right past his door and immediately the voice in his head quieted just enough to hear what was going on outside.

"Changbin hyung!" Hyunjin hollered through the dorm. He sounded far from happy. Han was glad he was hiding behind a closed door.

"In here, Jinnie!" Changbin called back, his voice was further away so he was still in the kitchen. Though the dorm was so small their voices could be heard from any room at a normal volume.

Han pulled his knees up to his chest and pressed his ear against the wooden door, listening in on the conversation, hoping it would be enough to calm his pounding heart and quiet the obnoxious thoughts.

"Hyung, did you break my razor?" Hyunjin asked, and although the question was directed to Changbin, Han froze. It felt like waves of heat and ice were rolling over him and suddenly it hurt to breathe.

Hyunjin knows. He knows and he's mad.

"What?" Changbin asked, and Han could just hear the confusion in his tone.

"Don't lie to me, hyung, I found it broken clean in half behind your shampoo bottle."

"I didn't break it, Jinnie. Why would I use your razor?"

"I don't know, you tell me!"

"Woah, geez, Jin, calm down. Why is everyone so tense today?"

Han bowed his head, tears burning his eyes. Changbin shouldn't be getting in trouble for something he did. They might all hate him, but he still loved them and didn't want to listen to them fight with each other.

With the little strength Han could find inside, the tiny bit left that he had to give, he stood up and pulled the door open. Dragging himself to the kitchen he decided that if it's the last thing he does, he'll defend his members - the only thing keeping him going still.

"It wasn't Binnie hyung, Jinnie."

"Huh?" Both boys startled, having not heard the dorm's maknae approach.

"It wasn't Changbinnie who broke your razor."

"You did?" Hyunjin raised his eyebrows like he couldn't believe what was happening.

Han couldn't either. But he didn't want to listen to them fight. He never wanted them to fight. They could all hate him, that's fine - although painful, it was fine - but he never wanted them to hate each other. "I broke it. It's old and rusty anyways, hyung, you needed a new one."

"So, you broke it?" Hyunjin snapped, the confusion gone, melting into anger.

Good. Yell at me. I deserve it. Just yell. Do it. Let me know how much I really mean to you. Let me know that I've been right all along.

"Yeah." Han nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets to hide the tremor.

"Jisung!" Hyunjin exclaimed, raising his voice just slightly. "You had no right! My dad bought me that razor when I was a teenager. You had no right breaking it no matter how old or rusty it is."

Just a little more. Just yell at me. Tell me all the thoughts inside my head are real. Please, Hyunjin, scream how much you hate me. Just don't hate Changbin.

"Yeah, well, sorry." Han blinked, forcing any threat of tears away.

"Oh my god, Ji." Hyunjin groaned, running a hand through his hair. He seemed like he was trying to calm himself down. Han knew why - he was concerned. Had been for weeks. But he couldn't let the good natured Hyunjin seep through. He needed more. Needed more than the voice in his head to hate him. Needed to be told he'd been right all along.

Provoke him. "It's kind of stupid that you'd be sentimental over a razor, don't you think?"

"Jisung, don't." Changbin warned, his gaze threatening. Or maybe it wasn't threatening, maybe it was actually a soft glance. Han couldn't tell anymore. Everything was threatening. This very room was threatening to suffocate him. When did it hurt to breathe? Had it been hurting this entire time?

"That razor was a gift from my dad, okay? And at least I don't sleep with it under my pillow like you do with that dumb notebook of yours." Hyunjin hissed but a second later, he took a deep breath. "Sorry. I'm just - just- really upset, okay?"

Han could barely hear him. The blood rushing in his ears and a horrible ringing was all he could hear. It was too much. He felt like all this time he'd been rolling a snowball up a mountain, building it bigger and bigger. This was the final part; he was ascending the peak. What would happen when he reached the top? He was pretty sure at this rate; he was about to find out. And find out soon.

"What's going on?"

Oh no, not Chan. Not everyone needed to be here. Now there was no escape.

"He broke my razor." Hyunjin huffed, running his hand through his hair again.

Han peaked to the side, watching Chan come fully into the kitchen, his headphones hung around his neck, though his face was focused, paying close attention to all the boys present. "Hannie? Did you break Hyunjin's razor?"

He was pretty sure he nodded but he couldn't really feel anything now. It all felt numb except for the burn in his chest and the weight in his stomach, attempting to pull him to the floor.

"Did you say sorry?"

"No, he didn't." Hyunjin sighed, though it was bordering on a groan. "And it was the razor my dad got me as a teenager."

"We can go get you another razor, Jin. I'm sorry, I know it won't be the same though."

Hyunjin and Chan decided when they'd go to the store, but Han couldn't focus on that.

Hyunjin might have thought he needed his razor. But in reality, Han was the one who needed it. He felt like he might die without it. But he'd probably also die with it.

Breathe, Jisung, just breathe. Wait until they're gone. Then you can cut and cry and do whatever you want. Just breathe, damn it. BREATHE!

It's not working. It's not working. I can't breathe. Oh my god, I can't breathe.

He cleared his throat, attempting to open his airway, but there was nothing blocking it. He just couldn't breathe. A hand reached up to his sweatshirt's collar, tugging at it in case it was strangling him. It did nothing to help. In fact, it just made it worse.

Changbin noticed the movement. "Sungie? You okay?"

Han glanced up. He could see all eyes turn to him. And he knew with just one look they could see everything. Maybe they didn't understand what they saw. But he knew they could see it anyways.

He was dying. And despite what the voice in his head was saying, Jisung didn't want to die. He wanted to be with his members. He wanted to enjoy writing music. He wanted to like his body again. He wanted to be okay. He wanted to be alive.

"Help." He choked out. The last bit of strength he had, the last breath of the terrified scared Jisung, his final effort to push the snowball up the mountain. Gravity could take it now as the snowball rapidly plummeted down the other side of the mountain, crashing down as his knees gave out and he collapsed to the floor. He'd done his part - whatever happens now, happens.

But it hurt more than anything he'd ever felt before.

"Oh my god, Jisung!" Hyunjin exclaimed, razor incident seemingly forgotten as he ran forward and reached out to the younger. His fingers barely grazed the rapper's arm before Han was panting out cries of "don't touch me".

"Okay, no one is touching you." Chan spoke up, squatting in front of Han.

"Please- Please, hyung. I'm sorry- sorry. I'm sorry. I- I can't- breathe." Han was dying. He felt it. His heart was about to explode out of his chest. His lungs had no air. His hands were splitting open with pain. Daggers were being driven into his flesh and he had no control over the spasms that shook his hands and feet. He had no control. It was so loud. He couldn't even understand what the voice was screaming anymore.

"You're having a panic attack, Hannie." Chan reminded him, glancing over at Changbin and mouthing "water" to him. "I know you haven't had one of these in a while, I know it's scary, but you're okay."

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" Han shoved his numb, shaking his hands into his eyes, pushing the tears away physically. "I'M NOT- NOT FINE- NOT OKAY. HYUNG PLEASE!"

"Okay." Chan nodded, as calm as ever during a crisis. "Okay, you're not okay. I understand, Jisung. Let's just br-"

"NO!"

Chan startled backwards.

"You don't- don't understand. Hyung, please." He pressed harder against his eyes. He couldn't cry. Couldn't? He was already crying. But he was adamant to not cry in front of them. What did it matter now though? They could see. They hated him. He was dying. Nothing mattered.

Hyunjin sucked in a breath, taking a tentative step forward. He tapped Chan's shoulder, drawing a hum from the elder but Chan didn't take his eyes off the hyperventilating rapper. "Hyung, he sounds like Jeongin did."

Chan's eyes widened and if Hyunjin knew better, he thought Chan might start crying. And he would have if he'd been alone. But the leader steeled himself and lowered his voice. "Hannie? Can you take a deep breath? You're just having a panic attack right now. As soon as you calm down, we can talk, yeah?"

"NO!" The voice in Han's head screamed so loudly it came out of his mouth. "Shut up! Shut up! I can't!"

"Can't talk?" Hyunjin asked, the anger from earlier replaced by concern. Heartbreaking concern.

They still hate me though. Don't let them fool you. Everyone hates you. You're fat and ugly and you shouldn't even be here.

"Go away!" His last-ditch effort to hide. Of course it didn't work.

"I'm not leaving this time, Hannie. I'm staying right here until you tell me what's going on." Chan said, his leader voice coming through the softness. It reminded Han of the time Minho got hurt in the Philippines. He'd wondered at the time if his members would be there for him when he needed it. Maybe they would... if they didn't hate him so much.

"Go. Please. Go away. I can't- you can't see- please."

"Can't see?" Changbin asked gently. "Sungie, we've seen you have attacks before, it's okay."

It was too loud. Han wasn't even sure what was coming out of his mouth. He was rabbling about being left alone, panting between each word like he was running a marathon. It hurt to breathe, but it hurt to exist. Everything hurt. His heart felt like it might explode it hurt so badly.

With a loud cry, he lurched forward, folding in on himself as his heart heaved with pain. His forehead would have collided with the ground if Chan's foot hadn't been in the way. It hurt but the pain was grounding. It reminded him of why he needed the razor. Cutting always brought him back to reality. As bad as he knew it was, as much as it hurt and as ashamed of the action as he was, he needed to find that razor now. He would rather be bleeding out than have to deal with this pain he was feeling right now.

"Hannie, you need to breathe." Chan reminded him, but Han was so beyond breathing techniques it was almost laughable.

And laugh he did. He really was insane now - a monster. Maybe he was just so ashamed of the mess he'd become, or maybe he found it truly funny that as hard as he worked to hide everything, it came apart so easily in front of not one, but three members.

"Umm." Chan glanced back at Hyunjin and Changbin, and for the first time since they became Stray Kids it seemed that the leader didn't know what to do. None of them did. Here in front of them was a member that always seemed to be happy, but was actively sobbing, hyperventilating, and laughing all at once.

The laughing fit was short lived and dissolved into painful sobbing that left Han screaming. Why did it have to hurt so badly? Everything hurt. When did he get this way? How does he make it stop? "Hyung."

"I'm right here, Hannie, just breathe." Chan seemed stuck, at a loss for what to do.

Not that Han could understand anyways. All he could understand was the pain in his chest ending his world. "Make it stop. Please. Hyung I can't. I can't do it any- anymore. Stop. It needs to- to stop."

"You just need to breathe, Hannie. Follow m-"

"NO! Don't tell me to- to breathe!" Han scrambled backwards, reaming into the back of the couch and hitting his head against it. The pain created a second's worth of silence. But it was something, and Han was desperate for anything. Without any thought other than trying to feel better, he hit his head again as hard as possible.

"OH MY GOD!"

"Jisung!"

"Hannie, stop it!" A hand made its way between his head and the couch, but Han couldn't process anything other than the fact that it was keeping him from the one thing he knew could help clear his mind. Tears falling pitifully down his cheeks, Han screamed like a child getting kidnapped. He screamed until his whole face was numb and he saw his vision fade to black.

Even then he kept screaming, kicking out but not hitting anything, and still the hand held his head. "Stop it! STOP IT! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"

"Hyung what do we do?" Hyunjin whimpered, standing as far away as possible from where Chan was standing over Han, guarding his head. "He's... hyung... what's going on?"

"I-" Chan choked on the word. Not that Hyunjin could hear him anyways over the screaming. He needed to do something. He'd never seen anything like this, and he felt helpless. What had he missed? Clearly, he'd missed something. More than something. How much had he missed though? He swallowed his fear and knelt down. "Hannie? Jisung, can you hear me?"

"SHUT UP!" Han screamed, gripping his hands over his ears. "MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE! MAKE IT STOP!"

"I'm trying, Hannie, I'm trying." Keeping a hand firmly on the back of Han's head, he switched his position, so he was directly in front of the younger.

"It hurts." Han whimpered, tears pouring down his face. "It hurts so bad. Everything. Forever. Won't stop. Make it stop. Hyung, you have to. I can't. I can't fix me. Please, hyung. Please. I need you. I need-" His face went lax, and Chan saw the way his eyes rolled up behind his eyelids. Luckily, the younger was wedged tightly between the couch and Chan so he couldn't fall.

Changbin hesitantly stepped forward and helped the leader lay their 3Racha maknae down.

"What just-" Hyunjin gasped, feeling tears build up in his own eyes. "What just happened?"

"I-" Chan gulped. "I don't know."

"Something's been wrong with him." Hyunjin continued, his lower lip trembling. "Seungmin noticed it too. We were texting about it a few weeks ago. But he seemed fine. He said he was fine, and he acted like it."

"I noticed it too." Changbin picked up. "And he did act fine but there's been little things. Like the arguing with the manager. Or disappearing during New Years Eve."

"Hyung." All three of them looked down to find Han peeling his eyes open.

"Hey, Hannie." Chan smiled, wiping tears that didn't get the memo he'd passed out off his cheeks. "You doing okay?"

Han nodded, noticing how no one looked convinced. He didn't feel convinced either, it was eerily quiet. But there was a hum somewhere in the back of his head. A voice trying to tell him something, but it was muted, like something else in him refused to let him know. He tried to sit up but both Changbin and Chan held him down.

"I'm fine." Han tried to assure them, but the words tasted bitter on his tongue. His mouth felt dry too. Oh, that's right, he'd panicked. In front of them. They saw. They hated him. He hated himself. At least they were on the same page.

"No, you're not, Jisung." Changbin said, his voice weak. "You're not okay, we all know that. We can see it now."

They see everything, and they hate it all.

Han winced, trying to shut up the thoughts. They were quiet compared to their normal, but still there. Though it seemed like they were just fog covering something up. He blinked up at Chan and Changbin, trying to offer them a smile, but it was barely on his face for a second before it became too painful. The pain was returning to his chest. Passing out didn't stop it. There was one thing he knew could stop it. He wanted it to stop. He didn't want to be in pain anymore.

"Jisung, can you talk to us?" Chan asked, keeping his hand on Han's shoulder to keep him down. There was no way out, they'd make him admit it. How much could he keep hiding though? He could say one thing and maybe that would satisfy them.

"I, umm, I've been really struggling with writing lyrics recently, so, um, I've just been a little bit stressed."

That definitely did not work. No one looked even the slightest bit satisfied. It wasn't a lie though; it just didn't even touch the iceberg of truth.

"What's the notebook under your pillow then?" Hyunjin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's my, um, my diary."

Hyunjin bit his lip and disappeared down the hallway. Han gulped and glanced back at Chan and Changbin. He felt so exposed. He hated it. "Can I, umm, can I use the restroom?"

Changbin looked back at Chan for him to decide and Chan clenched his jaw, turning terrified eyes down to Jisung. "Okay, but then you have to talk to us."

"Umm, okay." Jisung wasn't planning on letting that happen. He'd rather jump out the window in the bathroom and either die or hit the ground running. He'd go anywhere. Just not here.

They stood up, Han on shaking legs, and he started towards the bathroom. But he was stopped by Hyunjin. Oh, the dancer had left to go to their room... to grab his notebook. The book that contained every thought, every detail of everything he'd done in the past month. There it was, in the open, in Hyunjin's hands.

Han's heart stopped.

It was over.

He'd failed.

"What's this?" Hyunjin asked, voice tight, holding back some emotion.

Hate. It's probably hate.

"That's mine." Han gasped, reaching for it, but Hyunjin pulled back.

"I know it's yours, Ji. It's just that..." He flipped it opened, landing on a page containing things he hated about himself. It was a mess of scribbles with water marks on the page from tears he'd been crying as he wrote it. That wasn't even recent. It had been a few weeks ago when he wasn't this bad. "What does all this mean?"

"What is it, Jinnie?"

"Mine. It's mine and you can't read it!" Han snapped, reaching for the book again but Hyunjin jumped back, holding it above his head so the rapper couldn't reach.

"Ji." Hyunjin's eyes were hard, but it was holding something back, just like the awful voices in his head were. They were hiding something that was aching to break free. "Ji, I want you to tell me the truth. Why did you break my razor?"

There was an intake of breath behind him, and he knew Chan and Changbin were here too.

He froze. This was it. He could deny everything and go to the bathroom and make it stop. He could easily jump out the window and either die or be able to run away. He could hide until the pain consumed him.

Or he couldn't. The thoughts cleared just enough for him to see through the fog to the little thought in the back trying to push to the front.

Tell them, they still love you.

"I don't want to die." Han whimpered, tears slipping silently down his cheeks.

It was dead silent, and Han felt numb iciness spread over his body. His hands started shaking, but maybe, just maybe, this was a way to make the pain stop too. Maybe telling them would help. He just wanted help. He didn't care anymore, he wanted to be okay. "I- I did something."

There was silence until Changbin asked, "What did you do?"

Han could barely move. This was his last out. Maybe. He could probably still escape the truth now. But he clung to the possibility they still loved him. He needed them. Maybe they could help him be okay again.

With shaking hands, Han reached down and untied his sweatpants, pulling the waistband down just enough to hike up his boxers, exposing his secret. Exposing his thoughts, his actions, all the pain and hatred he'd been feeling. Those eight scars were proof of everything. They told the story he couldn't.

"I was hurting myself, and in turn I was hurting you. So, I made a mark to remind me of each of you, to feel the pain I was inflicting on you. You're all I have. I can't- I don't- I- I need you. I'm so sorry. Please- please help me."

Finally, the quiet voice in the back of his head whispered: Good job.

Chapter Text

Han squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to see what the others would do. They hated him, despite his desperate hope they still cared about him, he knew they had to hate him. "I'm sorry." He bowed his head, letting go of his waistband so it sprung back up to cover the cuts. "I just, I didn't know how to make it stop."

"Oh, Jisung." Chan sighed, his voice shaking. With very slow, very cautious movements, the leader stepped closer, wrapping his arms tentatively around Jisung like he might break in his hold. He still did either way, because all this time he just wanted someone to understand, to not be alone, to be loved.

Han's breath stuttered before he let out a pitiful whine, burying his face into Chan's neck and gripping the back of his shirt, clawing at the material as if he could get his member - his friend - his brother - closer to him.

"I'm so sorry, hyung. I tried- I couldn't- please believe me. I didn't want this. I just wanted to lose weight. I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't- hyung, please." Han pushed his face harder against the wet spot he was making on his leader's shoulder, but Chan didn't say a word, just held the younger against him like a mother holding her newborn baby for the first time - with a passionate desperation to be closer, but also with a fear she'd break the precious life she held.

Over the two though, Changbin and Hyunjin exchanged a look. There was a lot more going on than Han was letting on - and he was already admitting a lot. Hyunjin glanced down at the notebook in his hand and started flipping through the pages. Han would hate him for sure, but Hyunjin couldn't care less. Whatever it took to help his younger brother, he'd do it, even if that meant being hated for it.

His eyes landed on one page and Changbin watched as his face went white. "Jinnie?" He whispered, coming around Chan and Han to stand by the dancer. "What is-?" He froze, staring at the page. "Sungie? Have you only been eating one meal a day for a month?"

The way the semi-silent tears increased in volume and were accompanied by more rapid apologizes was enough of an answer for Changbin and Hyunjin. Chan looked up over Han's head, staring with tearful eyes at the two younger members. "He hasn't been eating?"

"I have." Han whimpered, squeezing Chan tighter. "Just, not a lot."

"I knew you looked thinner." Chan whispered, his voice cracking in the middle. "Oh, Hannie, how did we not see it? I'm so sorry."

"Don't. Don't apologize. Please don't apologize. This wasn't you. Please don't blame yourself."

"What happened, Ji?" Hyunjin asked, breathlessly as he carded through the notebook pages. Word after word of hatred and sorrow, it was tearing his heart to pieces. He knew. Just a little, but he knew enough to have talked to Han. He could have stopped this. Maybe if he'd been brave enough to actually speak about the topic, he wouldn't be reading a hate journal for Han by Han about Han.

"I dunno." Han cried. "I dunno. I was fine. I was really fine. And then I just wasn't fine. But I dunno. I'm sorry." He couldn't bring himself to look at the others. His face was red, he knew, and not from the exertion of crying so hard, but from embarrassment. He was so ashamed of his actions, and still, he itched to find that razor in the bathroom. Even though they knew, it wasn't making him feel better. An overwhelming guilt was threatening to drown him, and he couldn't fight against the waves anymore. "Make it stop." He whimpered. "Shut up. Just shut up. Please."

They still hate you, Jisung, they're just too nice to say it to your face. They're disgusted by you though. They think you're a gross, ugly, disgusting person. They can't wait until they can leave you alone to cry yourself to sleep tonight.

"SHUT UP!" Han attempted to recoil from Chan, but the leader's grip was firm, and Han barely moved an inch. "SHUT UP! I HATE YOU!"

"Jisung, none of us are talking." Changbin whispered, sounding on the verge of sobbing too.

"It won't shut up. It needs to shut up. I can't listen to it anymore. Make it stop. Hyung, you have to make it stop. I can't do this anymore." He was aware of how fast he was breathing again, but the voice was screaming loudly. It was supposed to be better now. It was supposed to have gone silent.

"What?" Hyunjin asked from somewhere behind him. He heard the flipping of pages as if Hyunjin was using his notebook as a google for Han - why is Han crying? Which entry will supply me with the best answers?

Han couldn't care anymore. He just wanted the voice to shut up. If that meant Hyunjin reading everything, then so be it. If that meant jumping out the window and dying... well, he didn't want to die, but if that's what it took, then again - so be it.

"Hannie?" Chan spoke softly. "Let's go sit on your bed, yeah? We can cuddle, we can talk, you can just cry if you want to. Okay?"

Han just nodded. It didn't matter where he was, the voice would always be screaming.

Chan guided him backwards towards his room and when he felt his legs touch the bed, he just plopped down, burying his face into his pillow. Chan laid down beside him, drawing the younger closer so his head was on his chest, and with shaking hands, he combed his fingers through Han's hair. "There we go, aegi. Deep breaths."

Han whimpered at the name. Chan only ever called them that when he thought they were sleeping, when they were incredibly homesick, or when they were delirious with a fever. So, for Han to be none of the above and be called 'baby', his heart swelled, and he choked out more tears, pushing his face flat against the elder's chest.

"Do you want to talk, or do you want to just lay here?" Chan asked in a voice so quiet, Han almost couldn't hear it above the screaming in his head, threatening to tear him to pieces - as if he wasn't already shattered.

"Want-" What did he want? He wanted to be okay. But he didn't know how to make that happen. He shook his head, tears soaking directly into Chan's shirt, creating a new wet spot. "You. Hyung, I want you. I need you. I'm so sorry. I don't- I need you. I don't hate you. I'm so sorry."

"Oh, Jisung, I know. I love you. Okay? I love you so much. Nothing you do can change that. If screaming at me makes you feel better, you can do it all day every day. I'll still love you."

"I made you cry." Han cried.

"Because I love you. And I hate seeing you in pain. And... the company... I hate the company so much. I was scared, okay? But none of that matters. What matters is that you're okay."

"I'm not."

"I know, Hannie, I know." Chan pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head, resting his cheek against the soft hair afterwards. "I'm here now. I'm always here for you. You're not alone."

Please don't be lying to me. I need you so badly.

Would Chan ever lie to me?

If I can trust one thing in the world, it's that Chan does love me.

His squeezed himself tighter against the warmth beside him. Maybe all along, this is what he wanted: to not feel so alone. So, when the darkness started crawling back over him, he let it peacefully pull him into its embrace.

When Han woke up, it was to a gentle vibration against his cheek and two very quiet voices.

"I didn't want to alarm you guys, alright?" That was Chan's voice, hushed to a level that even with Han lying directly on top of him, he could barely hear him. "I wasn't even supposed to know about it. But I'm going to talk to the company. We can't pretend this isn't happening, and he needs help."

"He's going to be really upset if you tell them though." That was Changbin's voice. "Do you remember what happened last time we made him go to therapy? He wouldn't talk to you for a week."

"I know." Chan sighed. Han felt gentle fingers comb through his hair, threatening to pull him back to sleep, but he needed to hear this conversation. "But he needs professional help. You and Hyunjin read his diary - you know what he's been doing. He needs a therapist. He needs to see a nutritionist. And the company has to know that he isn't directly disobeying management and rules, but that there's clearly something mentally wrong. Then they won't put him on probation or a hiatus. They won't threaten to kick him out." Chan's voice broke on the last word and Han's heart skipped a beat.

Kick him out? Since when did the threat of being eliminated become a thing?

"He can't go to practice today, hyung." Changbin said after a long pause.

"I don't know how to get him out of it though." Chan sighed.

"What if none of us go?" Changbin offered. "They can't eliminate the entire group, right? Even if they did, we'd just go the Got7 way and do our own thing. He can't go today, hyung, you know that."

"I know, Binnie, I know." There was another long pause and Han was vaguely aware of two sets of eyes on him. "Look at him." Chan whispered, his breath rustling Han's hair. "He's so small, he can't afford to lose any more weight. And those cuts on his leg. After he fell asleep, I looked at them to see how bad it was and... there was... there was still dried blood on his skin. What was worse though was there was another scab on his hip. It wasn't just a onetime deal, Bin, he's done it before. And we didn't know. We didn't protect him... I didn't protect him."

"It's not like you've failed, hyung. He's still here. He told us what he did." Changbin whispered, voice choked. "Jeongin's been eating well again. And it's like Minho never injured his hand in the first place. It took time, and a lot of love and help from the rest of us, but just like with them, we'll help Hannie too. We're a team, hyung, it's what we do. We can still protect him. You can still protect him."

Han felt something wet drop down onto his forehead and he flinched.

"Aegi?" Chan asked, pulling just a bit away from the younger. "Are you awake?"

Han whimpered and scooted closer to the elder to press himself flush against him.

"I'll take that as a yes." Chan chuckled.

"Am I gonna get kicked out?" Han asked, voice muffled against the leader's chest.

There was a long silence, but being so tight against the eldest, Han could feel his heart beating faster. Chan couldn't lie to him, but it was pretty clear he didn't want to admit the truth.

"How much did you hear, Hannie?"

"Enough to know the company wants to kick me out." Han sighed, pulling away from Chan and burying his face into his pillow.

"Hey, no, come here." Chan pulled him back, flopping the young rapper against his chest and rubbing circles on his back under his shirt. "The company just thinks you were disobeying them, they don't know there was an actual reason behind it. When they know, everything will be sorted out. It's gonna be okay, Hannie. Yeah? Everything will be alright."

"I can go to practice." Han pulled back, wiping his eyes to make sure there were no tears. They were puffy and crusty from having cried so hard before sleeping, but other than that, they were dry. The droplet on his forehead must have belonged to the leader then. He'd made him cry again... "You don't need to tell the company, hyung. I won't cause any issues, I promise."

"That's not the problem, Sungie." Changbin spoke up, sitting on the edge of the bed, trapping the 3Racha maknae in. "The problem is that you need help. Help we can't provide."

"I'm not going back to therapy!" The younger snapped, shooting a nasty look at Changbin. "I can get better on my own." What a spectacular lie - the lie of the century actually. Han didn't believe the words for a second and he could tell that neither one of the others believed him either.

"Hannie, we can't force you to do anything, but I really think you should consider therapy." Chan spoke carefully, like he was approaching a wounded animal. Han hated being treated like he was weak. He was weak, but not in a way that he would shatter like a flowerpot at the slightest trigger. No, he was weak like a grenade. A small tug on the pin and he'd explode. He didn't have the energy to explode though - he had just enough energy to sit upright.

"I've already thought about it. My answer is no." Han hissed, wiggling out of Chan's grasp and darting around Changbin.

"Hannie, we need to talk about this." Chan called after him, but he bolted out of the room for the bathroom.

He slammed the door shut, well aware of the fact that Chan wouldn't scold him about it right now given the situation. He sat on the counter, picking at his finger nails as he thought through everything.

They knew. What now? They were going to make him eat more and he'd be even more fat than he already was. They were going to make him stop using Hyunjin's razor and then how would he escape the unbearable pain? Curiosity got him moving and as expected, the broken razor wasn't hidden behind Changbin's shampoo bottle anymore. It wasn't anywhere anymore. They hid it from him. A quick search of the bathroom revealed that any sharp object had been hidden, and Han assumed he wouldn't have free-range to the kitchen knives anymore.

Great. Just what I need right now - to be a psych ward patient.

He plopped down on the closed toilet and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes to block out the world. Telling them didn't help - it was still incredibly loud. But on top of that, he felt an all-consuming embarrassment. His actions were wrong - he knew that. But now others knew it too. They would see him as a disgusting wreck, the same way he saw himself. Chan insisted he loved him, and maybe he could believe it, but that didn't change the way the elder would view him.

Same with Changbin and Hyunjin who had witnessed the entire breakdown as well. And Han would bet his entire career on the fact that Hyunjin had texted someone in the other dorm and now the entire group knew about it.

Sometimes he hated how close all the members were with each other.

With no way to silence the thoughts now, Han turned on the shower to burn-my-skin-off temperature and stood under it for several minutes. The pain of the burning hot water kissing his skin took his mind off the emotional and mental pain momentarily but as soon as he stepped out, it all came crashing back down.

But he had to act normal if he didn't want to be kicked out.

"Today is going to be a long day." Han sighed.

Minho knew something was wrong the moment 3Racha and Hyunjin stepped foot in the van. He had been laughing with Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin moments prior about a meme Felix had come across, but it was almost as if all the happiness in the air was sucked out the moment the others joined them.

Minho carefully studied each other the new members on their short drive to the company building. Hyunjin had his hood up, gazing out the window, unresponsive to Felix and Seungmin poking his arm.

Changbin was anxiously bouncing his leg, shaking the entire car whenever they stopped at an intersection.

Chan was gnawing on his lip, eyes dancing between the window, the clock on his phone, and behind him at what took Minho all of three seconds to realize was Han.

And Han? Han looked the worst off. He had his headphones on, eyes squeezed shut like he was physically in pain, but when Jeongin reached over to pet his hair, he jerked so far away he hit the wall of the van. Instead of smiling to assure the younger though like he'd done to Minho and Felix on Christmas, Jisung stayed curled up against the wall, bringing his knees up to his chest and tucking in his head to hide his face.

Minho took no time at all to text Chan and tell him: 'Something is wrong with, Jisung. It's time we actually confronted him.'

During the leader's rotation of looking at the window, the clock, and Han, he took a pitstop to look at Minho after checking the clock on his phone and likely seeing the notification pop up. He shook his head at Minho.

A moment later his phone buzzed, and Chan's contact came up, reading: 'We confronted him last night, kind of. He opened up a bit, but there's still more we need to talk about. I don't think he wants it getting out, but you could ask. I'm gonna have to talk to the company about it today.'

Minho sent the thumbs up emoji and closed his phone, now joining in on the anxious knee bouncing party Changbin had started. He needed to know what was wrong with Jisung, but they had a full day of practice before he could get a break to ask what happened. It was going to be a long day.

As soon as they got to the company building, Chan went missing before Minho could stop him to ask a couple questions. And by a couple, he meant he was ready to lock the leader in a storage room with a single spotlight on him and interrogate him until everything was explained. But they didn't have time for that. They had practice, and it's not like they could just skip it.

Han was even more distant than he had been before, avoiding the members entirely though Hyunjin and Changbin were standing as close as he'd let them the entire time. Alarms were going off in Minho's head so loudly that he couldn't really remember what they did that morning. He snapped back into focus when they were released at noon for their lunch break.

"I hope they have apples and caramel." Felix exclaimed as he threw an arm over Minho's shoulder. "Because someone forgot to buy apples the other day and now we're all out."

"I said I was sorry." Minho hissed, earning a grin from the sunshine boy.

"I know. I love teasing you." Felix chuckled, kicking open the door to the practice room.

"Wait." Minho ducked out of the younger's grasp and spun back to find Han leaned up against the wall, sucking at his water bottle - though the straw was clear, and the dancer could see that there was no water in it. He was just chewing at it, giving his mouth something to do. A nervous tick Minho knew Han had - though it's likely no one else knew of that sign. "Go ahead, Lix." He offered, nudging the other dancer before heading back towards the maknae of 3Racha.

"You going to come with us, Hannie?" He called.

"Mm." Was all the response he received.

Changbin and Hyunjin were still there, sticking close to Han but it's like they didn't know what to do. Clearly, they were staying for a reason, but they looked completely out of their element and to be completely honest, Minho thought they looked incredibly awkward. Like a kid dressed up in his dad's clothes - they didn't fit here right now.

Minho huffed. Chan hadn't returned to give him answers so he was going to have to ask himself. "Okay, you boys had better tell me the truth about what's going on."

"Nothing." Han blurted, jumping as if Minho had scared him.

Hyunjin and Changbin looked at each other, mouths popping open but nothing coming out. Eventually Changbin took a deep breath and glanced over at Han. "Can we please just go to lunch? Please?"

"You can." Han shrugged, nibbling at his straw again, eyes zoned out on the floor.

"No, Ji, you're coming with us." Hyunjin said, though he sounded weak trying to make an order. "Chan hyung said you had to come to lunch with us."

Jisung easily shook his head. "Well, he's not here right now."

"His orders still stand, Sungie." Changbin offered as gently as possible. "And as your friend, I'm not eating until you do."

"I..." Han glanced over at Minho, his face going bright red. He immediately bowed his head, letting his hair fall in front of his eyes to cover himself. Minho could feel shame and humiliation radiating off of him and it made even him feel awkward. But he was starting to understand... maybe.

"Let's all go to lunch." He suggested, taking a tentative step closer to Han. "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty hungry."

"Then you should go eat, hyung." Han mumbled into his water bottle.

"You've gotta come with us, Ji." Hyunjin tried again. "Please? I don't want to call Chan hyung while he's in his meeting, but I will if I have to."

"You don't need Chan's permission to go to lunch if you want to go eat, hyung." Han said, a hint of irritation bleeding through his words.

"We're supposed to bring you with us." Changbin declared, crossing his arms. "You were eating fine last night, can you please just come eat with us?"

"No!" Han snapped, throwing his water bottle to the ground. The metal banged loudly, causing Han to jump even though he'd been the one to drop it. "Would you just leave me alone, hyung?"

"Hannie, you asked for our help." Changbin began, expression falling to sorrow. "I'm trying to help, I just... I just don't know how to."

"I didn't ask for this kind of help. I just wanted... I don't know. I was desperate last night. But I'm fine now."

"Don't say that, Ji! Don't lie to us again!" Hyunjin snapped, though it was clearly out of concern. But either way, Han stepped back, running into the wall. "Sorry, I didn't mean to shout. We want to help you, Ji. Please, just let us help you. Just... just come eat. Please, Ji. Please."

"I... can't." Han whispered, bowing his head. "I'm sorry, hyung. I can't."

"Jisung you need to eat." Changbin answered softly.

"Shut up." Han whispered, covering his ears.

"Hey." Minho scolded gently. "Don't talk to Binnie like that. He's your hyung."

"No, not that." Han whimpered pressing his hands tighter over his ears. It did nothing to drown the voice in his head. It still mocked him, screamed at him that he was going to see just how much Minho hated him. The thing that would hurt most in the world was going to happen. Minho was going to yell at him that he hated him. Wasn't telling them supposed to make everything okay? Why didn't it work?

Oh, that's right. Because nothing ever goes the way it's supposed to with me. I'm a mess. They hate me. How could I forget?

"Shut up." He tried again, gripping his hair and pulling.

"Hannie..."

"Sungie, don't do that."

"Hyung, should I call Chan?"

"SHUT UP!" Han snapped, glaring at them. It was too loud. Why didn't it work? Why couldn't it be quiet just once? He wanted it to be quiet. And now, the way they were looking at him like he'd gone insane - though he was sure he had - he couldn't bare it. Hands still pressed tightly to his ears, he bolted out of the practice room, down the hallway to the bathroom.

"You two go to lunch, I'll get him." He heard someone say, but he couldn't care.

He threw the bathroom door open and ran to the sink, immediately splashing freezing cold water onto his face. It hid the tears that burned his cheeks. Although it looked the same to anyone else, he could feel the difference - the iciness of the water and the heat of the tears.

The door opened and he heard it slam shut. No one said a word, so Han had to turn his head to look to see who was there.

Minho.

It was Minho.

They stared at each other. Han knew that Minho saw through his disguise. He was probably the first to see through it, and he was sure he'd seen it long ago. And now, staring into his eyes, Han could see the inner workings of the elder's mind - Could see the way he was formulating something to say. Would he grab him and force him to come eat? Would he scold him for snapping at them and then running away? Would he demand answers? Would he just stand there staring forever, disappointed?

"I'm right here, Han." Minho breathed, the words hanging in the still air.

The words Han needed. The words he was terrified to ask for. "Thank you." He whispered, tears pouring silently down his cheeks. A shaking hand covered his mouth to try to quiet his stuttering breaths, but he failed to hide it. All he could do was stand there, staring at his best friend, crying like a child because he was here. He was actually here. Han wasn't alone for just a moment. Even if just for a second, he felt like Minho saw him. Truly saw him and understood him. Even if it was just a second, it was enough.

"It's been a pretty tough little while, huh?" Minho asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You have no idea." Han managed to laugh through the tears.

"You're right, I probably don't have any idea." The elder tilted his head to the side, silently asking if he wanted to explain or not.

Of course, Han did. He was humiliated, but Minho was here. How long that would last, he didn't know, so he was going to use the few seconds of relief he felt to try to explain. The words fell short though, not even reaching his mouth. Instead, he leapt forward and flung himself into the dancer's arms. Arms that had held him while he cried before. Arms he trusted, because they belonged to Minho.

"Hyung, it's been so hard."

"Mm, I can imagine."

"I just wanted to lose some weight; I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"Of course you didn't, Ji."

"But then everything became too much. It's so loud in my head, the voices won't shut up. They hate me, and every second they're telling me that. It's so loud even when it's quiet. So, when there are other people around making noise, it's super loud and I can't handle it. I love people, hyung, and I know I still do but at the same time I don't."

"Because it's too loud?"

"It's just too much of everything. They're judging. Even if they don't know it, they are. And it's too hard to act okay with everything when there are other people. It's not just that though. My mind - the voices - love to compare my body to others. I can't see another person and not look at their weight. I hate it. The voices get so loud when they're comparing me to others."

"Oh, Hannie."

Han squeezed tighter, resting his chin on Minho's shoulder and letting his eyes slip shut as more tears spilled out. "Then the voices told me that I should hurt myself. I didn't even realize what I'd done until I'd done it. The first time I did it, I barely did anything. I was humiliated though."

"Why were you humiliated?"

"Because no one who is okay hurts themselves. I thought I was okay up until that point. That's when I realized that something happened to me. And I was embarrassed that I didn't realize it, that I let myself spiral. I thought I could fix it on my own, but it just got worse. Then on New Years Eve when we had that performance, I had a... you know... one of my..."

"You had a panic attack?" Minho asked, feeling the head on his shoulder bob up and down. "I wondered if you did. You had that look on your face."

"Tiger JK told me I should tell you guys, but I thought I could fix it on my own since I got myself into this mess. But then I got into a fight with Chan hyung. I told him I hated him, and I was so mad at myself I did it again. It still hurts, hyung. I cut so much - they bled so much. And I didn't know how to stop myself, so I broke Hyunjin's razor. But it was the razor his dad got him. And then he found my notebook filled with all the things I hate about myself. And the company wants to kick me out. And Hyunjin and Changbinnie want me to eat but I ate a ton last night and I'll get fatter than I already am, and I can't lose all the progress I've made. But I just want to be okay again, hyung. I want to be okay."

"You will be okay, Hannie." Minho whispered, guiding Han's head to rest it against his neck. He felt the hot tears drip down his skin to wet his shirt. "It might not seem like it now, but you will be. People say there's a light at the end of the tunnel, but no one takes into consideration that tunnels can twist and turn, and you can't always see that light. But I'm right here with you, Hannie, and you will be okay. I promise."

"Mm."

"Do you trust me?"

Han bit his lip, thinking carefully before nodding. "Yes. I trust you."

"You will be okay. I swear you will be. Just trust me, Hannie. I'm right here for you."

Chapter Text

After depositing Han up in Chan's studio where Minho knew no one would bother him. After making sure Han would be okay for a few minutes alone. And after nearly having a breakdown himself. Minho headed back down to the dance studio to find Hyunjin and Changbin still there. It was eerily silent when he entered the room, but as soon as he was inside, both boys were on top of him.

"Is he okay?"

"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said all of that."

"Does he hate us?"

"Lino hyung, where is he?"

"Would you two calm down for half a second?" Minho hissed. The tone immediately got the desired effect, and he took a deep breath, realizing that he too needed to calm down. "Listen," He began, crossing his arms, trying to give off an aura of confidence that he felt like he was very much lacking right now. "He's okay, but you two need to realize something. You cannot force him to do anything. That's only going to make it worse. You can't make him explain things, you can't force feed him, you can't tell him he's alright. You have to let him do it on his own."

"But... he can't." Hyunjin whispered, voice cracking like he was on the verge of tears.

"He can't alone, but that's why we're here. The good news is that he wants help. He doesn't want to be forced though, so you need to know the difference. And I'm sorry, but you two forcing him to go eat wasn't going to solve anything."

"But..."

"No, Bin. I know you're concerned, and you want to help, but manipulating him by saying you won't eat, or saying that Chan hyung ordered him to eat is only going to make him feel worse. Do you remember what Chan and I did for Jeongin?"

Hyunjin sucked on his lip for a second before carefully answering, "You switched your meal times to match Jeongin so he never ate alone."

"Exactly." Minho nodded. "So instead of saying that he had to come eat with us, you could have just offered to let him come along while we eat. Even if he's sitting there not eating, it's better than staying down here alone."

"Oh." Hyunjin and Changbin sighed in unison.

"Now, I want you two to go eat. I'll take care of Hannie." He picked up Jisung's now dented water bottle and headed towards the door but was stopped when he felt a hand fall onto his shoulder.

"Minho hyung." Hyunjin began, bottom lip trembling slightly. "I feel so bad. I don't know what to do and I feel like everything I try to do just makes him feel worse. Is it just me? Do you think... could he be mad at me?"

"You should just talk to him about it, Jin. I'm not Jisung, I can't answer for him. But if I had to guess, I don't think he's mad at you. If anything, he probably wants you to help him out. But I don't think any of us really know what real "help" means."

Hyunjin nodded and Minho headed back up to Chan's studio. However, when he opened the door and stepped inside, Han wasn't alone.

"So, I'm not going to get kicked out?" Han asked just as the door opened. Both he and the leader snapped their heads over to where Minho was entering. For a second, a very relieving second, there was a sparkle of light in Han's eyes again. It vanished almost immediately, but Minho was sure it was there.

Chan offered Minho an assuring smile from his spot on his spinning chair and looked back at his first member. "It took a lot of convincing since I wanted to give them as few details as possible, but I think they understand and they're not going to put you on probation or anything like it."

Han breathed a sigh of relief, letting his head fall till his chin hit his chest. "Thanks, hyung."

"But, Jisung, even though the company isn't going to force you to do anything other than return to the dietician's, I really think you need to consider therapy."

"No." Han blurted so quickly Chan hadn't even said the T-word before the answer had left his mouth. "I'm not going back to therapy, hyung. We can... we can fix me alone. I just... I'll be fine."

Chan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Would you go if one of us went with you? You don't have to do it alone, you know."

"I know. I know. I just... I don't want to be that person."

"You're not that person though, Hannie." Minho spoke up for the first time since entering. "No one is that person. You can't put a label on something that differentiates between everyone."

"Lino's right, Hannie." Chan continued, flashing the dancer a grateful look. "No two people have the same thoughts and actions, so it's impossible to label someone as that person when no one is. You just need a little help quieting the voices in your head and finding ways to cope with the stress that's a bit healthier." The young rapper looked unconvinced, so Chan took a deep breath and whispered. "Did you know that I've gone to therapy before?"

"What?" Han blurted, his gaze snapping up to the leader, eyes wide. "But... you're just... you're so perfect, hyung. I mean, I know you hide a lot from us, but you always seem to have answers to everything."

"I'm glad you think so." Chan chuckled, bowing his head to stare at his hands for a moment. "But how do you think I came across those answers in the first place? I needed a little help too and there's nothing wrong with needing to go to therapy."

"Why did you need to go?" Han asked, tilting his head to the side curiously. "Sorry. That's personal. I shouldn't..."

"It's alright, Hannie." Chan smiled softly. "During my trainee days it was really difficult finding anyone who would stick around for more than a few months. So, I found a therapist. It just gave me someone to talk to that was consistent since everything else in my life was changing so rapidly. It's nothing to be ashamed of, Hannie."

"I'm already humiliated though." The rapper whispered, bowing his head again. "I can't even go to a stupid cafeteria anymore. And Hyunjin and Changbin are mad because I'm just so worthless."

"What?" Chan asked, furrowing his brow.

"Hyunjin and Changbin aren't mad, Ji." Minho spoke up. "They just don't know what to do."

"I don't even know what to do." Han hissed, gripping his hair but not pulling like Minho and Chan were worried he'd do. "I want help, but I don't know what kind of help. I want to be with people, but when I am it's too much, but when I'm not, I'm so lonely. I don't know what I need or want."

"Hm, you said you can't go to the cafeteria." Chan began, drumming his fingers on his thigh as he thought. "Is it because of the food, or because of the people there?"

"I don't know." Han whimpered, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. "I don't know anything anymore."

"That's alright, Hannie, you don't need all the answers." Chan spun the chair to Minho. "Can you head up to the cafeteria and grab some rice cakes and maybe some fruit? I'm a little hungry but I don't really want to leave him alone."

Minho tried to hide his smile as he nodded and headed out towards the cafeteria. Once the door closed behind him, Chan leaned closer to Han. "Does he know?"

"Yeah." The younger sighed, lifting his head up to nod. "I kind of broke down a little bit ago and he brought me here. I told him everything."

"I'm really proud of you, Hannie."

"Why? I'm a mess."

"I'm proud that you realized you needed help, and you came to us. That takes guts, Hannie, not just anyone can admit they need help - it's one of the hardest things for people to do. But you did it."

"But it didn't make me feel better."

Chan smiled, reaching out to pat the younger's knee. "That's the tricky thing - it takes a lot of time to feel better. And you might not even realize that you're making progress until you look back."

"Minho hyung said it's like a tunnel with a lot of twists and turns so you can't see the light at the end."

"Well, Minho's really smart, because that's exactly what it's like. But you're not walking through that tunnel alone. You've got us! We might be just as lost in the dark as you are, but at least we're together. That has to account for something, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin felt awkward. But awkward the understatement of the century. Being the youngest members, there were a lot of things the older members hid from them. Even though the age gap wasn't huge, it was enough for members like Chan, Minho, and Changbin to think they're too young for some things.

But they weren't too young to know something was wrong. Definitely wrong.

"Do you think they're ever going to tell us?" Jeongin asked, the first to speak up since they left the practice room for lunch.

"Tell us what?" Felix asked, though the elephant in the room was visible to everyone present.

"What's wrong with Han hyung." Jeongin asked, setting his chopsticks on the table and glancing around at the mostly empty cafeteria. No one was close enough to be listening in, so he leaned across the table to his two youngest hyungs. "He's been acting so weird lately, especially today."

"Well, he wasn't feeling well the other day..." Felix offered, though his face was paling as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Yeah..." Seungmin nodded uncertainly.

There was a long pause before Felix slammed his chopsticks down on the table, burying his face in his hands. "I can't do this again. We need to know what's going on."

Jeongin made a whimpering sound in the back of his throat and nodded. "It wasn't your fault though, hyung. What happened with me was my own doing. I'm okay now though. Don't worry about me."

"Yeah, but what if something is really wrong with Hannie and I ignore the signs again and he doesn't turn out okay?" Felix pushed back from the table, his chair screeching against the floor but before he could stand up Seungmin tapped his shoulder and pointed across the cafeteria.

"There's Lino hyung; we could ask him." He suggested and the three boys nearly sprinted across the cafeteria to where the oldest DanceRacha member was grabbing a tray of food.

"Hyung!" Jeongin called, reaching Minho first.

The elder turned, his expression unreadable as he laid eyes on the three members. "Where's Binnie and Hyunjin?" He asked, furrowing his brow. "I sent them up here a few minutes ago."

"They haven't come up yet." Seungmin shrugged, glancing around the cafeteria to be sure he didn't miss anyone.

"Where's Jisung, hyung?" Felix asked quickly, ignoring Minho's question.

"He's just... resting."

"Is he going to come eat with us? He never comes to hang out with us during lunch anymore." Jeongin asked, stuffing his hands in his sweatpants' pockets.

"He's... not." Minho looked down at the few pieces of fruit and rice cakes set out on the tray in front of him and swallowed the lump in his throat before daring to look at the younger members again. "You three go back and finish eating. We only have about twenty minutes left of break."

Seungmin, Jeongin, and Felix all looked at each other, and this time, Minho was the one who couldn't read their expressions. Finally, Seungmin turned back to him and shook his head. "We want to know what's going on, hyung."

Minho tried really hard not to let the fear show on his face. Where was Chan when he needed him? Their leader was the best at dissipating difficult situations, or hiding things in a way that didn't make it seem like he was blatantly keeping secrets. What would Chan say now to make the three youngest members walk away and not pry? Minho wasn't Chan, he didn't know. He didn't have answers in this situation. But in all honestly, did anyone have answers in this situation?

"Hyung?" Felix asked, concern etched across his face. "Is Hannie okay?"

Minho couldn't lie anymore. "I don't know, Yongbok. I really don't know."

Chapter Text

"Come on, Jinnie, we've gotta go eat lunch."

"I'm not hungry."

"I know you are."

"I'm not. I'm fine, hyung."

Changbin sighed heavily, bowing his head as he leaned against the wall beside Hyunjin, who was squatting on the floor. Despite Minho telling them to go eat, Hyunjin had insisted that he'd rather just go for a walk alone. Although Changbin could settle for the not eating part, he wasn't sure he could leave Hyunjin alone when the dancer looked on the verge of tears. So that's why they were in an empty hallway in the JYPE building, avoiding the staff, their managers, and even their members.

"Why am I so weak?" Hyunjin hissed.

Changbin's gaze shot down to the younger. He couldn't see his face though. His hands were doing a good job at hiding any expression, and even if his head wasn't buried into his hands, the angle would make it impossible to see his face. "You're not weak, Jinnie, why would you think that?"

"Because I knew something was wrong!" Hyunjin snapped, though Changbin had a feeling the anger wasn't directed at anyone but himself. "Seungmin and I knew weeks ago. I even tried talking to him at one point and he seemed fine. Maybe I was just fooling myself into thinking he was okay because I felt uncomfortable talking about it. But imagine how much could have changed if I had just stepped out of my comfort zone and said something." He shook his head, letting his hands drop to the floor in front of him. "But here we are, because I was too weak to say something while Jisung struggled all alone."

"None of this is your fault, Jinnie." Changbin knelt down, resting his hand on Hyunjin's shoulder and using the other to prop himself up off the floor. "There were several times I knew something was up but didn't bother saying anything because Hannie told me he was fine. And I think the problem is that he really did think he was fine, so he didn't know to ask for help."

Hyunjin chuckled sadly, lifting his head a bit to look back at Changbin. "Channie was right. We're all just a giant mess right now, aren't we?"

"You can say that again." Changbin smiled, standing up. He offered his hand out to the dancer, who hesitated, staring at him like he'd never been offered help before. "We should go eat while we still have the chance, Jinnie. We still have practice after all of this."

"I kind of forgot we're still idols. Personal matters sometimes make something like that seem so distant." He took Changbin's hand and stood up, following him to the cafeteria.

Once they entered, they found a mob around Minho who was just trying to grab a small bowl of salad. And by mob, that meant three maknae-line members.

"Where is Hannie hyung?"

"You have to let us to talk to him at least. If you aren't going to say anything, hyung, maybe he will."

"Hyung, please, we're just worried."

Minho spotted Hyunjin and Changbin and rolled his eyes. Raising his hands in a gesture for silence - which immediately cut the three youngest members off since they knew not to mess with Minho - he sighed and shook his head at the now five members present. "I know you're all worried, but we just need some time and space."

"You have about fifteen minutes, hyung." Seungmin reminded him. "Then our lunch break is over."

"I know." Minho huffed, glaring at the clock on the wall like he could make the time stop. "Just... Chan and I will discuss everything with you later... if Jisung lets us."

"Can't we just follow you and ask him ourselves?" Felix pressed, giving the older dancer puppy eyes. Minho had to look away otherwise he knew he'd cave.

"Please, for Jisung's sake, can you just stay here and finish your lunch?"

"Hyung?" Jeongin spoke up. All five other members turned to look at him. He gulped, clearly uncomfortable with the attention but if he didn't address one member in particular, it was hard to tell which 'older brother' he was talking to. He looked down at his hands, picked at a hangnail. "Is Jisung starving himself?"

There was dead silence for all of five seconds before Minho blurted. "No."

"Don't lie to him, hyung." Changbin whispered, like the hesitation didn't give away the truth.

"Fine." Minho nodded. "He's struggling. But until he tells you himself or asks one of us to, that's all you need to know. You... you all deserve to know but I can't betray Hannie's trust like that right now. And here is not the place to discuss it. If we talk, it will not be on company property."

"Okay." Felix nodded. "That's fair, hyung."

"Good." Minho sighed, a look of relief falling over his face. He glanced back at the clock on the wall and a spike of energy seemed to strike him. "The rest of you stay here and finish lunch. I'll be with Chan and Hannie." He turned and acted like he was about to walk away but turned back. "Please don't follow me. I don't want to attract a crowd here right now."

"We won't." Changbin nodded, though he looked disappointed.

Minho nodded his thanks and hurried off with the tray of food. Had all six of them tried to make it through the hallway, the staff would have seen and followed which would only make matters worse. But one of them slipping through the halls alone wouldn't make staff bat an eye. Often times they walked through the building alone, so it was the usual. But in a large group, the company would know something was up - especially all headed to Chan's room.

He knocked on the door but didn't wait for the come in. He kicked the door to Chan's studio shut behind him and found Han on the couch, curled up in the corner with Chan's jacket - since his was still in the dance studio - draped over him, and Chan was still in his spinning chair, phone in hand as he watched the screen attentively.

When Minho leaned over, he could see that he was watching a texting conversation. He raised his eyebrows, casually asking for an explanation and although Chan shook his head, he answered. "It's the staff. I talked with management about Hannie having some difficulties lately with eating and that it was affecting his mood, but now they're trying to rearrange his schedule and fit in a doctor's appointment and another visit with the dietician as well as a meeting with both me and Han. It's... I'm glad I said something but at the same time they're being... I don't know... a bit much."

"I'll say." Han whispered, pulling the black jacket up higher so only his head poked out. "Can't they just leave me alone? They already basically own me. Now they have to dictate exactly how much I weigh. Weigh too much and we get scolded. Weigh too little and we become a liability. There's no happy medium. It's stupid."

"That was kind of in the job description." Chan hissed, turning his phone off after switching to do-not-disturb. "I swear this industry sucks sometimes. I wish I could go home but they don't even want us seeing our families that often."

"I'm sorry, Channie hyung." Han said, voice softening.

"It's alright. I at least have you guys."

Minho nodded as he set the tray of food down on the couch between him and Han and grabbed a rice cake, offering it to the leader. "At least the company has good food. They might not be the best at a lot of things, but cooking is a strong suit."

"You're not wrong there, mate." Chan smiled, taking a bite of the rice cake.

Minho carefully picked up a bowl of strawberries and started eating the little slices. He watched Han out of the corner of his eye, very aware that Chan was doing the exact same thing. But Han wasn't looking at them - he was looking at the food on the tray. One food in particular - pineapple.

Minho was so glad they had pineapple today because it was Han's favorite fruit - maybe even his favorite food. Plus, it didn't have a lot of calories in it, so maybe Han could justify eating it. Minho sure hoped so and by the looks of it, Han was desperate to get the fresh yellow fruit in his mouth.

That's probably why he didn't ever go to lunch with them and avoided the kitchen and the cafeteria at all costs - it was too tempting. Minho looked away, trying to give Han privacy. He caught Chan's eye and they both understood that they needed to keep a casual atmosphere - it was becoming tense as they both held their breaths to see if Han would eat.

"So, what are we recording today, hyung?" Minho asked, taking another bite of strawberries.

"Just some demo tracks for the new album." Chan answered, shrugging. "I don't think these are going to be official recordings - We just want to hear each of your voices with the songs we've composed recently and with the parts we've assigned to each of you. Changbin, Hannie and I might change some things up later."

Han snapped his gaze from the fruit to his leader. "I'm still a part of 3Racha?"

Minho nearly spit out the strawberry in his mouth and Chan almost dropped his rice cake. "Of course you're still a part of 3Racha, Hannie." The leader smiled softly. "We would never make you leave the group for any reason."

"But you still want my opinion on songs I did nothing to help with?"

"Yeah. I'll always listen to your input, Hannie. Your thoughts are important to me - to all of us. We wouldn't be Stray Kids without you. And remember what I told you several years ago? It's 3Racha. Not 2Racha and definitely not 1Racha. We're a team. It just doesn't work when it's not 3Racha."

"Okay." Han looked down, clearly embarrassed, but both Chan and Minho could see a spark flickering behind his dark eyes and the ghost of a smile brushed against his lips.

Minho smiled and reached down for a piece of pineapple, popping it into his mouth and nearly moaning at the taste. "This is the best pineapple they've had all year."

"It's the only pineapple they've had all year." Han corrected. "They never have any - it's always just melons and berries."

"What's wrong with Berry?" Chan asked, smirking.

"Not your dog, idiot." Minho rolled his eyes. "I don't think our leader is the brightest in the industry."

"Excuse me?"

"Probably because he's so old, hyung." Han chuckled, smiling back at Chan who looked like he was ready to whip out the wooden spoon.

Minho hummed amusedly and took another bite of pineapple, very aware that Han was watching him closely.

"Can I..."

"Hm?" Minho swallowed and glanced over at the younger.

Han's eyes were wide with fear but also interest and he looked like he was somewhere between crying about food and begging for it. "Never mind." The younger huffed, lowering his head.

Chan glanced between Minho and Han before scooting his chair forward, "Did you want a bite, Hannie?"

"No. I'm good."

"Okay." Chan nodded, reaching for the bowl of pineapple and grabbing his own piece.

He and Minho discussed random things, from what they did in the dance practice Chan missed that morning, to the time Minho's grandma got him the ugliest sweater for Christmas and his mom forced him to wear it to school and the boys all teased him for it.

They were both silently praying that Han would eat something but he stayed curled up against the armrest of the couch. Though he was staring intently at the slowly disappearing pineapple. When there was one piece left though, he reached a shaking hand out towards it.

Fat. Fat. Fat. So ugly. So fat.

Shut up! It's one piece! I won't get fat from one piece!

Fat! You're worthless, Jisung! Disgusting! If you eat that, you're going to fall back into binging.

It's one piece; let me live! You've taken enough of my life from me! SHUT UP!

He popped the piece of pineapple into his mouth and immediately his mouth exploded with the flavor of juicy sweetness. His eyes watered as much as his mouth did and he just barely choked the piece down. But he did it. The voice in his head was screaming that he was fat, but it felt good to disobey it since he'd blindly trusted it for so long. Though the thoughts were hard to ignore when it was all he heard, and he squeezed his eyes shut to block out the tears and to block out the world.

I am fat. You're right, I'm fat.

But it tasted so good.

But I'm fat.

"Come here, Hannie." Han barely registered Chan's voice before he leaned forward into the leader's waiting arms. His hugs were so warm and safe, but it couldn't hide him from what was inside of him. He couldn't hide from himself. Still, he melted into the warm embrace and squeezed himself against the elder, basking in his soft cologne that smelled so comfortingly familiar.

"Why does this have to be so hard?" He whimpered, pressing his face into Chan's neck.

"I don't know, Hannie. I wish I had all the answers for you."

"It won't shut up, hyung."

"The voice?" Minho asked, watching Han nod against the leader's chest.

"It's always there. It follows me no matter where I go. Even when I tell it to shut up it doesn't. I've tried blasting music, but nothing is louder than it. I want it to stop. I want to be okay."

"Oh, Hannie, I know." Chan cooed, pressing his cheek against Han's soft brown hair. "It's so hard, but you'll make it through. I know you will."

"But when?"

"I don't know when, but you will."

Han choked on a sob but he swore he wouldn't cry again during the same lunch break. So, he attempted to take deep breaths, feeling Chan's pulse in his neck against his cheek and counting the beats. It was life. Something so simple. All he had to do was breath and left his heart keep beating - he didn't even have to think for those things to happen. He just had to be, and he was alive. That's why it's called a human being. But recently he felt an awful lot like a human doing. A human doing everything it took to just be. To blend in with people he couldn't fit with, to act like it was all normal and okay when really it wasn't. The air around him was like an entirely different atmosphere his lungs couldn't work with. The things people said were like a different language. The things they ate were poison to him. He was like an alien trying to live among humans.

I am an alien.

"I'm proud of you, Jisung." Chan whispered, his warm breath rustling through his hair. "You're doing something really hard right now and I'm proud of you."

"Don't be sappy." Han answered, though his voice cracked with pent up emotions.

"You know I can't help it." Chan chuckled. The sound tickled Han's ear and he shuddered, bringing his body closer to the leader's. "We have two minutes left of break. We should-"

"No." Han blurted, fisting Chan's shirt. "Please don't let me go yet. Just one more minute. Just... please hold me."

"Okay. I'm not going anywhere."

Cover me, hyung. Hide me from the world that is trying to destroy me. I'm an alien here, I can't live on earth like the rest of you. My mind is different, my body is different. Things that are normal for you are poison to me. I'm not fragile; I'm strong but in a different way than the rest of you are. You can easily breathe, and your heart beats at a normal rhythm. Meanwhile, my breath gets knocked out of me too often, and although that seems weak, I've become strong enough to struggle through not having enough oxygen. Sometimes, my heart pounds so fast it feels like it's trying to escape, but I've become strong enough to keep it contained. And I've learned to survive with a voice constantly saying I'm not worthy of anything - that's strength.

So, don't treat me like I'm fragile when I'm not. Don't treat me like I'm an alien. I just want to be like the rest of you. So, cover me now - hide me from the rest of the world that sees and judges the differences. And maybe, just maybe, my thoughts will settle down and accept my differences.

Because I've learned the hardest person to accept is yourself.

Chapter Text

Three days. It took three days for Han to finally agree to go to therapy. In retrospect, it didn't take that long, but in the process, every second felt like hell. Chan and Minho were there the entire time, letting him process it externally and internally. They let him cry. They let him scream. They let him rant about how much he hated the world. They never left his side.

But it wasn't having them nearby that made Han decide to go to therapy. They weren't even present when he officially decided. Neither were Changbin and Hyunjin.

It was his three younger members.

"Alright, Han, can you lean closer to Jeongin? Perfect." The photographer said, giving him the okay sign then leaning back behind her camera.

Han slowly inched further away. It had been four days since he'd told Chan, Hyunjin, and Changbin, three since he told Minho, but the rest of the maknae-line weren't told. He'd begged Chan to keep quiet about it, but now he almost wished that Chan would have told them so he wouldn't have to spend extra energy he didn't have hiding any more.

And this photoshoot was proof that he shouldn't have put it off.

Attempting to eat a little more every day just to settle his hyungs' worries made him hate his body even more. Sure, they didn't push the therapy thing as much if he ate an apple at noon instead of nothing, but that apple meant calories. Calories meant weight - meant fat.

He carefully placed his arm across his stomach, trying to appear casual, but he was actually working to cover the inch of midriff that his crop-top showed. It was just an inch, but an inch all the same. An inch of skin - of fat - that everyone present could see.

"Now, Han, can you lean completely onto Jeongin and just let your arms hang to your sides?" The photographer asked innocently. She didn't know. It wasn't her fault.

It's nobody's fault but mine that I'm so pathetic I can't even sit normally.

He pulled his shirt down for good measure and dropped his arms to the sides, but the material just sprung back up and he squeezed his eyes shut for a second wishing this would all just end. He couldn't sit through another hour of this photoshoot. They'd been here for five minutes. The other members looked immaculate, while he was just an awkward fat child who couldn't work up the courage to even look anyone in the eye.

Which staff knew and which didn't? How much did they know? Chan said he hadn't said much, but any little bit was too much in Han's book.

Shut up. Focus.

Fat. Fat. You ate that piece of toast Chan gave you for breakfast. You're fat. Fat.

Shut up. Please. They're watching. They'll see.

Let them see how disgusting you are. Let them hate you like you hate yourself.

"Shut up." Han mumbled, blinking rapidly as he tried to focus on the camera and not the screaming in his head.

"What was that, hyung?" Jeongin asked, glancing down at the elder.

"Nothing." Han tried to offer the camera a smile, but it came off wrong - he knew that. He was certain it looked more like a grimace. Not that it mattered. He hated his smile anyways. It made his cheeks look chubbier. It made his eyes narrowed into little slits. It made his nose scrunch up. He hated the way his teeth looked when he smiled. He hated-

"Han, can you look over here?" The photographer asked, and this time there was a little more urgency in her tone. She was getting annoyed - that was obvious.

He nodded, mumbling an apology before refocusing on the camera. But time after time he zoned out into the world of self-hate and the photographer, rather angrily, called for a break. Han stood up so fast he saw stars.

"Han?" Felix, at least he thinks it's Felix, called after him, but Han was already walking away.

He didn't know where he was going. Just not there in front of the camera. Not where they could see him struggle. They didn't need to see it. No one did. Chan and Minho were witnessing too much. Hyunjin and Changbin had backrow seats, but were still present, nonetheless. If anyone else found out, Han might implode. He was too foreign for them. They wouldn't understand. They would think he's weak. They'd think he's disgusting. They'd hate him like he hates himself.

Out. Get out. Get out of my head. Stop it. Please. Let me live.

He reamed his shoulder into the bathroom door and threw it open, sprinting across the unnaturally clean white restroom to the handicap stall and locking the door shut behind him. He crashed to his knees in front of the toilet and rested his elbows on the seat, staring at his reflection in the water. How many times was he going to end up here? Hunched over a toilet because he didn't feel secure anywhere else. He hated this position. Hated how his life had come to this. And his hyungs weren't here to find him and talk him through the impending panic attack working its way up his throat.

It burned his chest, squeezed his heart and kicked his lungs. It made his stomach roll with discomfort. It made his eyes water. It made the faint buzzing the lights increase tenfold into a swarm of bees and the fear. Where was the fear coming from? Maybe it was fear that this would keep happening - It would never stop. Sure, there was a light at the end of the tunnel, but how would he know he's even going to the right end of the tunnel? What if he was going backwards? What if he ended up where he began?

Fat. Fat. Ugly. Worthless.

SHUT UP!

Throw up and all that weight you'll have gained this morning will be gone.

SHUT UP!

Just once. Just try it. Maybe it won't hurt. Maybe it will actually help. Maybe all the things people have said online were lies - maybe this is the fastest, easiest way to lose weight. Throwing up is natural anyways.

SHUT UP!

Do it. Purge.

SHUT-

"Han?" Felix.

Han froze - as best he could. He was shaking violently, glaring at the monster that was his reflection, but he tried not to move or breathe too loudly - though breathing was difficult already and that only made it worse.

"Jisung, I know you're in here. I know something is wrong."

"Nothing's wrong. I'm fine." Han called back, hating the way his voice was pitched too high.

"You know none of us believe that right?" Felix asked, and Han could hear him shuffled across the bathroom. There was a light tapping on the stall door and Han violently wiped his eyes, rubbing the tears away that threatened to fall. Not today. Not in front of Felix. Felix didn't deserve this.

"I'm fine, Lix. Go back to Innie and Min."

"You know. Sometimes I like to play this game. It's called: What would Chan do?. When I get into a situation alone, and don't know what to do, I reply on someone who knows how to respond to shitty situations. So, right now, what would Chan do? He'd stay until he knew, 100%, that you're okay. So, I'm going to stay."

Han choked on a breath and the tears rushed back in.

Don't cry. Don't make Felix deal with this. Not now. Not ever. Not Felix. Please, don't cry.

The tears had a mind of their own.

Damn it, Jisung! Don't cry!

The plop of a fat tear in the still toilet water beneath him filled the entire bathroom with noise.

"Can I come in, Han?" Felix asked, switching to English - his voice getting deeper and in turn more soothing.

"No, you... can you just wait out there?" Han whimpered, rubbing the tear track off his cheek. It had already done its damage though and the tears wouldn't stop now. "I just need space. I just need..."

"That's okay, take your time. I'll wait here." There was a light thud and the stall door rattled. Han assumed Felix sat down on the other side and rested his back against it. Han wanted to crawl over and open the door and fall into his twin's arms. Felix was called sunshine not just for his personality and smile - but his warmth. His hugs were the warmest in the entire world. Han could only compare it to the first sunny day after a storm, or the way the burning sand felt on his feet at the beach. He hiccupped a breath and more tears fell, pattered to the floor. He leaned away from the toilet and scooted to the door, leaning against it so the only thing separating him from Felix was the thin metal.

"Hey, Hannie," Felix said in English. "While I'm sitting here, do you mind if I run through some vocal exercises?"

Han furrowed his brow. It was an odd request, but if Felix wanted to, Jisung was never one to say no. "Go ahead, Lix." He managed through stuttering breaths.

"Yeah, I tried to hide away from all the sorrow and pain, but little did I know that I was going insane. The sun will always be there waiting after the rain. I want to close my eyes and smile, facing the sun." He continued to the end of the song, his deep voice bringing a new level of closeness and comfort to the song. Han had listened to it multiple times, had even gotten to the point that it was slightly annoying. But Felix singing it felt brand new. And having it sung for him only made it better.

He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them. "Felix, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, mate." Felix answered his Korean in English.

"Do you think... um, what do you think about therapy?"

Stupid. Why did you ask that? Shut up. Just don't speak ever again. You're worthless. No one likes you. Stop attention-seeking.

"I think therapy is great."

"Huh?"

"Yeah." Felix switched over to Korean, though Han completely understood the English response. "Therapy is great. It's like a friend, that's 100% on your side, listens to all your biased stories, hangs out with you as often as you want to, and they won't complain when you talk the entire time."

"I... I think it's weird."

"You used to go to therapy, right?"

"Yeah. But I'm weird."

Felix chuckled, and the deep warmth melted Han's insides. He loved Felix's laugh - it was gorgeous. "I love your weirdness, Han. We all have quirks anyways."

"Yeah, but I'm like... never mind."

"Do you feel like you don't fit in?"

"Maybe."

Felix sighed heavily. "Do you feel like no matter what you do, what you say, you can't fit in? Like, even when they say that you fit, you don't. The differences are too obvious. When you speak, they don't understand. You look different. Act different."

"I... yeah. That's exactly it. How do you-?"

"I'm Australian. How do you think I felt coming to Korea when I was 17? I didn't speak the same language as you guys - my Korean sucked for at least 18 months. I had tanner skin, I have freckles, instead of calling my friends "hyung" I call them "mate". I felt foreign because I was - am."

"How did you get over it?" Han asked after a long pause.

"I found out that home isn't a location but a feeling. When you feel like - despite your differences - you're safe and loved. You don't have to fit in by being the same. You get to fit in because they let you be different. You guys let me be different. Remember how much I hated my freckles during training and debut?"

"You would try to scrape them off." Han added sadly.

"And then Chan hyung started telling everyone who would listen - and sometimes those who wouldn't - how much he loved my freckles. And now, I don't mind them so much. But I absolutely hated them, Hannie, more than I think any of you realized."

Like how fat I am... But I could never be okay with that...

"But it wasn't just Channie. It was all of you who helped me feel like I'd found a new home. And Hannie, you helped me the most. Do you remember what you said to me the night that I scraped so hard at my freckles I started bleeding?"

"No. I barely even remember you doing that."

"Maybe you need to be reminded again then. You cleaned the cuts and then took my hands and looked in my eyes. For the first time in a while, I felt seen. But then you said to me: Don't scrape your freckles off. Don't change who you are. You can't fit in when you're born to stand out - and don't let anyone tell you that's a bad thing." There was a silence that stretched on for so long that Han momentarily questioned if Felix had left. But then he heard the younger shuffle on the other side of the door and heard his deep, soothing voice continue. "I don't know what you're going through right now, Jisung, but just know that whatever it is - no matter how big or small - I'm just gonna wait right here for you whenever you're ready."

"Thanks." Han breathed, picking at his fingernails.

"And for the record, I don't see you as someone who doesn't fit in with us. You're different, but each one of us is extremely different. We're 'stray' kids for a reason. But we're stray kids together." The sound of shuffling got louder and it sounded almost like Felix was leaving.

Han's heart leaped into his throat as he jumped to his feet. He kicked the door out, eyes locking on the mess of blonde hair in front of him. "Felix, wait!" The younger got no warning before a Han Jisung sized barnacle was attached to his side.

"I'm right here, Hannie. I wasn't gonna leave you." He chuckled warmly, wrapping his arms around his twin.

Han melted into his chest. He needed Felix. He needed everyone in his band. He needed... he needed to feel better for them. He had to be better for them. "Will you tell Chan for me?"

"Tell him what?" Felix asked, bending down to try to catch Han's eye.

"Tell him that I want to, um, I... I think I should go to therapy." Han hid his face against Felix's t-shirt, embarrassment painting his cheeks red. "The company is already forcing some things on me, but Chan said therapy was my decision. And I think... maybe he's right. Maybe it isn't a terrible idea."

"Yeah. Of course, I can tell him. Do you want to be there when I do? What exactly do you want me to say?"

"I want..." Wow, he was actually getting to chose something for himself for the first time in what felt like forever. For eternity - or so it seemed - that awful voice in his head had been screaming everything he was supposed to want or do. The voice hated the idea of therapy. Rebelling against it was freeing just as much as it was painful. "You tell him. Just say that I'll go."

"Do you want a psychologist or a psychiatrist?"

"What?"

"Well, one is a therapist you talk to. But a psychiatrist can prescribe medications. If you're struggling with-"

"NO!" Han nearly shouted, leaping out of Felix's arms like he'd burned him. "No, no medications." For multiple reasons - one being he didn't want the temptation - the voice in his head so easily abused access to a razor, what's to say it wouldn't make him take more extreme measures.

"That's fine." Felix shrugged casually despite basically being yelled at. "Psychologist it is then. I'll talk to Chan when we get back."

"Thank you..."

"Of course, mate."

Han can't imagine how the conversation went, he assumed it must have been a little weird since Felix didn't know 100% what was going on. But he knew when the conversation was over. Chan came bursting into his bedroom, his eyes soft and a look on his face that Han could only pin to the typical "proud dad" expression. "What?" He blurted, taking his headphones off.

"I'm so proud of you, Hannie." He took the whole bedroom in two long strides and fell onto the bed, embracing the young rapper with his whole body.

"Why? I didn't do anything." That's not true. The internal struggle for so long is eating me alive and actually saying yes to therapy is just making the voice angrier and now I'm stressed about talking to someone, and what if I get caught by Stay, and-

"You know why." Chan hummed, pulling Han closer to him. "I'll call and schedule something tomorrow after your nutrition appointment."

"Can you... do I have to... Is it, like - ya know - a solo thing?" Han huffed and blew his hair out of his face. "I can't speak when you're crushing me, hyung."

"Sorry." Chan chuckled, pulling away and sitting beside Han on his and Hyunjin's bed.

"Anyways." Han annunciated. "You know how when I went to therapy back in 2018, you came with me the first time? Is that just because I had just turned 18 or is that normal?"

"You're never too old to have me come with you, Hannie." Chan smiled, placing his hand on the rapper's soft brown hair. "No matter how old you get, you'll always be my little brother, so you could be 89 years old and if you want, I'll hold your hand to cross the street."

"Um, yeah, I think at that point you're the one who's going to need someone to hold your hand." Han smiled, slapping his hyung's leg.

"Point is, if you want me to, I'll come with you."

Han took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay."

Her office smelled like roses and nursing homes - it made Han feel like he'd entered an old lady's cat infested residence, but the therapist was probably only in her late thirties. The walls were a nonthreatening pale blue, and paintings of flowers and fruit bowls, and a diffusor in the shape of a cat pushing out the rose scent were the only things to look of, but Han found out that the floor pattern - though the carpet was plain grey - was incredibly fascinating to watch too.

"Hey." Han glanced to the side at where Chan was sitting on the couch beside him. He had an assuring smile on his face, but Han wanted to die. Why had he ever agreed to this? He should have just listened to the voice because for the first time it was right - this was a mistake. He wasn't even that 'sick'. Others had it way worse than him. He wasn't supposed to be here. Again, he felt like he didn't belong. He tried to recall Felix's soothing voice to mind but he couldn't focus over the screaming of the voice in his head telling him to run. "It's gonna be okay, Ji." Chan added, patting his knee.

Yeah, but when? Not right now. I feel like I'm going to throw-up right now.

Han was about to voice his discomfort and growing need for a trash bin, but then the therapist walked in. He stood up, feeling slightly lightheaded - despite eating a little more under his member's watchful eyes, he still felt incredibly weak and after bowing to the woman, he plopped down onto the couch and his hands found the zipper on his hoodie as his eyes found the grey carpet.

"I'm Seoyeon." The therapist began as she took her spot on her rocking chair.

"I'm Bang Chan." Chan answered, situating himself casually on the couch.

How does he look so comfortable when I'm over here feeling sick to my stomach? I wish I could talk to anyone without stressing over every little detail. She's going to take one look at me and think I'm making it all up. I don't look sick. I don't act sick. She's gonna think I'm fine. What if I am fine? What if I just agreed to this for attention? What if-

"And you're Han Jisung, yes?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." Idiot, you don't even know how to hold a normal conversation.

"It's a pleasure to meet both of you. What's your relationship?"

"He's my friend." Han answered. "But we're in the same band, and we live together, so it's kinda more like siblings, but like... not really. So, yeah." Stupid, talk like a normal person.

"Thanks, Hannie." Chan smiled but Han avoided his eyes. "Yeah, we've lived together for - what, six years now?"

"And you're idols." Seoyeon clarified and Chan must have nodded because she didn't pry. Han kept his gaze on the floor. "Great! Well, all we're going to do today is answer a questionnaire I have for you, Jisung. Is that alright with you?"

"Yeah." Not really, I'd rather go home.

"It won't take long. You probably won't be here the whole hour." That's good. I can't promise I'll make it more than five minutes without chucking myself out that window though.

"My first question is: have you been having any difficulty eating? What I mean is, has your appetite changed recently?"

Han actually laughed at that. He forgot Chan got him a therapist for the cutting habit, not for the eating - or lack there of - habit. "I, um, my appetite has changed... I guess."

"Do you want me to explain it, Ji?" Han nodded, so glad Chan was there now.

"He's been eating one meal a day for about a month now. We've gotten him to eat a little more recently, but I think this all started with an eating disorder." But it's not an eating disorder - I'm still eating. People with eating disorders don't eat at all and throw up everything they do eat. That's not me.

"Oh, okay." Seoyeon nodded like that was perfectly normal and jotted something down in her notebook. "We'll talk more about that next time, Jisung, but we don't need to go in depth today."

"Okay." Han mumbled, face burning with humiliation.

"Have you had any changes in your sleeping pattern? Needing more sleep or being unable to sleep?"

"No, I guess not."

"Any sleep disruptions?"

"Like nightmares? No more than normal."

"So, are nightmares normal for you?"

Han cleared his throat. "No, I meant, I'm fine regarding sleep. I don't know."

"Alright." Again, she jotted something down and Han sunk further into the couch, gaze burning a hole into the carpet. "Have you had any feelings of worthlessness lately?"

"Yeah..."

"For how long?"

"I don't know... a while, I guess."

More scribbling - the sound was tearing through Han's head. He wanted to snap her pen in half.

She's trying to help. Just shut up. Please.

She won't help. You're not sick, you're not injured - you're fine. It's all made up. You just want attention.

"Have you lost enjoyment with things you used to love doing?"

Han stared at her, finally lifting his head. He glanced to Chan out of the corner of his eye. His leader was watching him carefully. How could he say this to Chan's face? What would he think of him? He'd judge, right? Who wouldn't?

If anyone wouldn't, Chan wouldn't.

"Yeah. I... I used to love composing and dancing and performing. Now, I..." He shook his head, lowering his gaze. He didn't need to finish - it was obvious he hated his job as an idol now. He didn't want to hate it, but he didn't know how to love it. And he felt terrible for Chan who probably wished he'd picked another rapper for his group. Just another thing Han ruined in someone else's life.

"I saw in your record you were diagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder back in 2019."

"Yeah. I was doing better... I don't know what happened..."

"Usually, it's not one event but a buildup that can relapse."

That word. The word Changbin warned him about back before Christmas. If only that past Han could see where he was today, maybe he'd actually have listened to his hyung more carefully and heeded his concern.

"One more question for you and then I'm gonna ask your friend lots of questions. It's basically interrogation day today." Seoyeon giggled and Chan offered a chuckle, but Han could barely smile. He hated every second of this.

"Alright, Jisung. I want you to be really honest with me - this is all confidential. Have you had any thoughts of hurting or killing yourself?"

Other than right now? - Han wanted to snark and escape the situation. But he couldn't deny the reality. The phantom pain of his scars on his leg burned worse with each passing second and the memory of the day he told his roommates and wanted to jump out the window... "Um, kind of."

"Have you ever hurt yourself or tried to take your life?"

Han's heart was pounding uncomfortably, and he felt like sweat was pouring down his back. He gripped his sweatshirt zipper and squeezed his toes in his sneakers. "I have... I hurt myself. Not terribly though. I'm okay."

"Can you tell me what you did?" Seoyeon poised her pen over the notebook.

"I, um, Hyunjin - that's my other friend, my roommate - He has a razor. I've hurt myself twice with that... but I guess I've done other things too."

"Can you explain what those other things are?"

Chan cleared his throat and Han promptly nodded at him to continue for him. "He has a habit of hurting his head when he's really upset - either by hitting his head on something or by pulling at his hair."

"Okay." Seoyeon jotted some things down then looked back at Jisung. He couldn't see it, but he could definitely feel it. "And have you ever considered killing yourself?"

"Not really considered... but it has crossed my mind." He shrunk further in on himself. Chan didn't know that. He'd been too ashamed to tell his notebook. It was a thought that just lingered in his head, not a real idea to be acted on.

"And did you ever think about how you would do it?"

"No." Han lied. "I haven't."

"Alright. Thank you, Jisung." Whether she believed it or not, she moved on to asking Chan questions. She asked about all the changes in behavior he'd seen. What Han was like before when he was diagnosed with GAD. What he's eating now. What they're doing for him. It gave Han plenty of time to zone off and ignore them as he fantasized about Hyunjin's razor and how much less painful it was to just cut himself and ignore the ache then it is to actually acknowledge the hurt.

When Seoyeon started giving Chan tips and pointers on how to handle behavioral health, Han snapped himself back into reality because it sounded like they were almost done. He should have stayed zoned out though.

"I'm going to clinically diagnose him with an ED, GAD, and depression. I'll add it to his medical file. If you would like, I could add in a request to meet with a psychiatrist."

"NO!" Han blurted like before with Felix. "No, I can't do medications." He added quietly once he thoroughly startled Chan and Seoyeon.

"That's alright." The therapist smiled softly. "You don't have to think about it now if you don't want to. I just want you to know you have that option."

Thanks, but I won't be using it.

"So, if there are no further questions, I say we call it a day and meet next week. How does that sound, Jisung?"

Han definitely didn't have any questions, and the look he gave Chan told the elder that he better not have any questions either. Han left in a rush, running to the bathroom and locking the door behind himself. Why had he agreed to this? This wasn't helping him navigate the tunnel to the light at the end any easier. Now, he not only felt like a fraud outside in the world of "normal people", but he felt like a fraud here too. He wasn't sick enough, but he wasn't healthy enough.

I'll never fit.

"Han, are you okay, mate?" Chan knocked on the door.

But Han couldn't bring himself to open it yet. "Just a minute, hyung. I'm fine."

"I'll be right here when you're ready."

Almost exactly what Felix had said and that brought tears to Han's eyes. When he got back, he was going to seek out his twin and get one of his earth-shattering phenomenal hugs. Because he needed a little bit of his sunshine after the downpour that was therapy.

Chapter Text

"That was a great run through, boys." Their dance instructor congratulated them as they all were doubled over panting for breath after an intense run through of Lalala. "Han, that was fabulous! Absolutely amazing!"

Han forced a smile but internally cringed. It had been a week since he'd gone to therapy with Seoyeon. He kept glancing at the clock today, knowing he'd have to leave at 2:45 to make his appointment. His dance instructor knew. The members all knew. Close - important - staff knew. And this was the treatment he was getting.

Praise was fine. It was fine when he was blending in with everyone else. But now he was getting praised like some pathetic, broken child.

Maybe that's what I am, but not everyone in the room needs to know it.

"Let's run through that again, yeah?" Chan offered, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "That was a good one, but I think during the final chorus we went out of sync."

"Agreed." Minho nodded firmly, resuming his opening position.

"Are you alright with running through it again, Han?" The instructor asked, a look of sappy sympathism on his face. Han couldn't hide his cringing this time.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"If you need a break, just say so."

"Got it." Han went back to his position, staring at the floor. Was he really that weak that an idol company as big and important as JYPE was babying him? Most times idols were forced to hide their issues if they were dealing with anything. But they were openly nurturing him. It made him feel sick. He knew that there was something wrong with him - but he wasn't that broken.

They ran through the song and finished even better than the previous run through.

"Good job!" The instructor exclaimed, clapping his hands. Han waited for his own personal praise, steeling himself to not cringe. The instructor opened his mouth to speak but suddenly Chan's watch started beeping.

"Oh, it's 2:45." He said, tapping the watch to turn it off.

Han wasn't sure whether he wanted to cringe harder or be jumping around in joy that he'd be rid of their dance instructor. He ran to the corner, grabbed his things and rushed out of the room - Completely ignoring Chan when he asked if he wanted someone to go with him. He was being babied enough; he didn't need to feel any weaker.

He raced down the hallway, dodging a group of staff gathered around another practice room. It sounded like Twice was rehearsing in there - their music blasting out into the hallway. He hurried past them, pulling his black hoodie up over his head to hide. They didn't need to know where he was going.

He nodded at the security guard at the front desk and the man shot him a thumbs up. He pushed the door open and stepped out into the biting January air. There were a few cars waiting out front, but Han could easily spot his manager standing beside a designated driver for Stray Kids.

He sighed, telling himself on repeat that this would make him better - for his members - and he trudged closer to the car. He froze though when he heard his name spoken by his manager.

"We're considering releasing a statement about Han." The man began, tapping his fingers on the hood of the black SUV. "It's great for publicity and with the changeover of generations from 4th to 5th, we've got to make sure that our artists don't go out of style."

"A mental health crisis would really resonate with the youth." The driver nodded, pulling his lips into a thin line. "And for a company to come out and be so open and accepting of it... that's unique."

"Precisely." The manager nodded, snapping his fingers. "But you know that new manager we're training? He's not on board with it. He thinks we should separate the idols' personal lives from their work lives. He just doesn't get how this industry works yet though. It'll be fine. Han will be fine." The manager's eyes swept the surrounding area and Han leaped behind a car, just dodging his gaze. In a quieter voice that had Han straining to hear, the manager continued. "I hate to say this, but I honestly think he's faking it. I mean, an eating disorder? Really? Didn't we just handle that with Jeongin a month ago? And Chan said he'd gotten hurt somehow, but I do believe we just rushed Minho to the hospital in the Philippines. I think that maybe he's even realizing that 4th gen is going out of style and is trying to stay relevant. But if he plays the part, we'll play the part with him. He's actually helping us more than he realizes."

"Are you going to warn him about the statement?" The driver asked, keeping his voice quiet still.

"And risk him telling Chan who'd take it straight to JYP? No."

Han gasped, stepping backwards into the car behind him. His hand shot to his mouth to cover his gasping breaths, eyes locked on the little bit he could see of the manager and the driver.

They don't believe me. They think I'm faking it. Maybe I am. What if I am faking it?

You just told them because you wanted attention. You're just an attention-seeking, worthless, fat, ugly, useless waste of space and the best thing you can do is get sicker so JYPE can flourish. They'll be like flowers sprouting from your corpse. The more decomposed you become, the brighter and happier they'll be.

They don't believe me. They don't believe me. It's all a lie. It's a lie! My entire world is a lie!

Han squeezed between the spaces in the cars and bolted back into the building. The security guard glanced up at him curiously, but he just ran past him. He wasn't sure where he was running to. Just a place to be alone so that no one could see him breakdown.

A fake breakdown. None of this is real. You're making it up, Han Jisung. Get a grip!

Han pushed open the bathroom and ran to the farthest stall, slamming it shut and throwing himself onto his butt against the wall. It rattled his spine painfully, but at least that pain was real. Who could judge that the mental anguish he felt was real? He wasn't even sure if it was real. It hurt more than anything he'd felt before - that night he broke down in front of his roommates was the night he thought that maybe pain could kill a person. But he'd survived. So maybe he wasn't sick. Or maybe he wasn't sick enough to deserve healing. Maybe he wasn't sick enough... yet.

Han dug his palms into his eyes, pushing the tears back. He couldn't keep crying. Crying was for the weak and he was sick and tired of being weak. He was sick and tired in general - though clearly not enough to deserve any kind of real help and sympathy.

Han didn't cry. By sheer willpower. He was strong - Strong enough to hold back an entire dam of tears. How did people not see that? They thought he was weak, but he knew he wasn't. Who else can have their entire world shattered into lies upon lies upon lies where he couldn't even trust himself and yet be able to hold it together?

Han glanced at his phone: 2:58. He was going to be late to his appointment, but he really didn't care. He was actually somewhat glad, though he wasn't about to admit that to anyone. He stood up though, deciding he needed to at least go and apologize to Seoyeon for his tardiness. If anything, he knew how to be polite.

He took a few deep breaths, preparing himself to stand up when he heard the bathroom door open. He decided to give himself a little bit longer to calm down.

He heard one of the stalls click shut and decided now was as good a time as anything to leave. He stood up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and stepped out of the last stall. He went to the sinks to wash his hands since he had been sitting on the floor of a public bathroom and as good as the janitors here were, Hyunjin's voice in his head scolding him about germs made him do it.

That's when it hit him. He stopped with his hands covered in soap and spun around.

There were no urinals in here. There was a box of tampons and pads on the counter.

As if my life can't get worse. Han internally facepalmed, hoping that the girl in that stall back there hadn't realized. Though just his luck she would speak up.

"Hey! Can you do me a favor?" The girl's sweet voice resonated throughout the bathroom. "Can you grab me one of the tampons on the counter, please?" It took less than a second to realize it was Sana's voice. The singer's sweet tone was super easy to recognize. Han had known her for so long and would always hear her randomly singing songs in the halls between lessons and mealtimes.

Han cleared his throat. "Um, sure."

"HAN?!" Sana shrieked.

"Sorry! I can explain!"

"Oh my god, what are you doing in here? Oh my god, I just asked you for a tampon! OH MY GOD!"

"It's okay. I mean, I know what it is so it's not like it's weird or anything. I mean, yeah, it's weird that I'm in here. But like, it's not your fault, you didn't know that I walked into the wrong bathroom. Sorry. I'll just leave."

"Wait!" Sana called and Han froze, unable to disobey a senior in the company. "God, I can't believe I'm asking you this, but can you please hand me a tampon still?"

Han gulped and grabbed one out of the bin on the counter then slid it under the stall door. Sana's barely audible, clearly shy (shy, shy) "thanks" told him he'd completed his mission, and he headed back to the sink to quickly wash off the soap that was still on his hands.

Sana was out in seconds, cheeks red, but a smile on her face. "Sometimes I forgot you're not still that strange little 15-year-old rapper who recorded the wackiest lyrics in the universe." She joined his side at the sink and washed her hands while Han looked around for an escape. "So." She continued once she'd dried her hands. "Care to enlighten me as to why you were in the girls room?"

"I was in a rush." Han said firmly.

Sana's smile drooped. "Stomachache?"

"No. Um, manager issues."

She nodded towards him. "You have your backpack; I thought you boys were in practice till 7."

"We are. They are. I'm... I get a break." Han stared at the floor.

The Twice member hummed, tapping her fingers to her chin. "You said manager issues, yes? Is everything okay in your group? I feel like I haven't seen you boys in eons."

"No, they're fine. It's fine. I should go."

"Hey, wait a minute." Sana followed him out into the hallway. "You're a terrible liar, Han, you know that, right? Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong." Not another person needed to know. He just needed to get out. But where would he go? He wasn't sure he could into the car with his driver, knowing exactly what had been discussed just minutes ago. Jisung froze right there in the middle of the hallway, staring straight ahead into space. "Okay. Maybe I need a favor."

"Anything. You did me a favor; I owe you." Sana shrugged, sticking her hands in the pockets of her sweatpants. "And sorry about that favor by the way, it was a little... weird. I'm sorry."

"No! Don't worry about it!" Han shook his head rapidly. "My favor might be even more awkward to be honest..."

"Oh." Sana's eyes went wide.

"Can you give me a ride? You know, I never got my license and I just need a ride to, um, an appointment."

"Sure." The woman nodded immediately. "We'll check with Todd about what car we can use."

"Todd?"

"He's the security guard at the door." Sana explained as she walked down the hallway with the younger male. "He's from Germany actually, but he speaks Korean, German, and English. It's pretty impressive. He's a great guy."

"Yeah, I know, I just never talked to him much before..."

"You should." She suggested, a soft smile on her lips. "I really think that sprinkling someone with a little love and attention helps them grow. You know, I'm a firm believer that love is a survival need - just as important as food and water and shelter."

Han hummed, staring at the ground again as Sana talked with Todd the security guard and got keys to his personal car that he generously let them borrow for the hour. Sana ran across the parking lot since she still had her short sleeve crop top on, and it was snowing. Han followed, constantly offering his coat but she kept refusing, saying: "little boys like you can get hypothermia". And despite being babied an annoying amount all day, Sana's babying was like an older sister, and he found he actually wasn't too upset by it. Though he shot her an irritated look every time she called him a "little boy".

"There we go!" Sana sighed, cranking the heat to full blast once they were in the vehicle. "Alright, where are we going to then, Mr. Han?"

"There's um... there's this place called MindRest. It's um..."

"Oh yeah, I know where that is." Sana smiled, buckling up and waiting for Han to do the same. He did but watched her the whole time, a confused look on his face. "What?" She laughed, tilting her head to the side.

"You know where it is?"

"Of course. I go there all the time."

"You... you do?"

Sana giggled and nodded. "Yeah. I started going about two years ago. I go about once a month now. It's like having a friend that will listen to all your tea and won't interrupt or complain about it."

"Did you talk to Felix? Because that's exactly what he told me."

She laughed again. "It's true. Anyways, do you want to pick the music for the ride? It's ten minutes and ten minutes can feel like an eternity without good music."

Han pulled his phone out and his face went red. "I'm gonna be honest, I usually just listen to your music when I'm in the car..."

"How about we listen to your stuff then?" Sana suggested but Han rapidly shook his head. "Aww, why not? I love your songs!"

"Thanks, but I think my voice sucks and my lyrics are crap."

"Woah, okay. We both know that's not true."

"Yeah, well, I don't know what's true anymore." Han mumbled but picked Felix's song Deep End anyways. He didn't want to listen to his own voice. It did sound terrible, and he would be cringing the entire way to the appointment on top of cringing about the appointment and all the things that happened prior to this drive.

Sana sighed and pulled out of the parking lot, heading down the road. By the time Deep End hit the second chorus, she spoke up again. "You don't really believe your voice sucks, do you?"

"What? No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Definitely."

She knows I'm lying - Han realized pretty quickly. She can detect a change in heartrate from a mile away. It's what made her such a dangerous flirt and attractive heartthrob - she could feel how others were feeling. But Han didn't like that talent of hers. He could vividly remember times when she'd walk into a room and immediately know if something was off. She'd always been that way - that's maybe why he avoided her so often.

But she didn't question anything else the entire drive there. If anything, she could pick up hints and social cues. "I'll wait here for you, Han." She told him when she parked at MindRest.

"Thanks." He slammed the door shut and decided that he was 100% not going in to see Seoyeon anymore. He needed alone time more than anything. So, for an hour he sat in the bathroom and scrolled through Instagram, trying to take his mind off the things that so desperately needed processing. They pushed against his brain, begging to be thought about, but he bottled it up and ignored it all the way back to the company - again giving Sana cues that he didn't want to talk, which she of course picked up on and stayed silent. This time, there was no music. Han let his thoughts of guilt and shame eat him alive.

Chan tapped his finger to the beat, completely lost in the music he was composing. This song was definitely going to have to be in their next album. Stays were going to love it. And they really needed to start compiling for the album. They'd had several meetings about it already, but it seemed that was put on the backburner for now. Their managers were distracted by something - Chan could see it. But he didn't know what. Even he wasn't told everything.

The knock on the door startled the leader and he jumped, spinning his chair around to try to peer through the fogged glass. It was too hard to tell who it was. All the other members were home except for Minho who was practicing downstairs still. But maybe Minho needed him. Chan hurried to the door, unlocking it and opening it to find none other than Sana.

"Oh, hi." He greeted her, pulling his headphones around his neck.

"Hi." She answered, glancing around his room anxiously. "Can I talk to you for a second? It'll be quick, I promise. I gotta go anyways but I told Jihyo that I needed to stay for a minute."

"Sure. What's up?" Chan asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.

The woman looked both ways down the hallway. It was empty, of course, only insane staff members, janitors and Chan were regulars at this late in the night. But with Twice's comeback coming up in February and with their single I Got You being released soon, they were there out late as well. "Can I come in actually? It's kind of private."

Chan blinked at her a few times before stepping aside to hold the door open for her to come in. She stood in the center of the room anxiously bouncing her leg and nibbling on her fingernails.

"Are you okay?" Chan asked, letting the door shut and lock behind him.

"I'm fine. It's Han I'm worried about." The woman blurted, shoving her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants.

"Han?" Chan felt the blood drain from his face.

"Yeah. Is everything okay with your group and your managers right now?"

"Our managers?"

"Something's wrong. He wouldn't tell me, which is fine. But I just wanted to make sure you knew that something was wrong. So... yeah, something's wrong."

Chan blinked several times before shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "Sorry, but when did Han talk to you? He had a full schedule today."

"When he was in the girls' room."

"Wait, what?"

"I should explain." The woman sighed, closing her eyes for a second to collect her thoughts. "I went to the bathroom during practice and heard someone else in there. Turns out it was Han. He said he was in a hurry and didn't realize he'd gone into the wrong restroom. When I asked why, he said something about having issues with the managers. He asked me to give him a ride to his therapy appointment, which is strange since you usually have designated drivers. I did though and gave him a ride back, but he didn't talk at all - not like he normally does. I get that he can be going through something and that's not my personal business. But if something is going on with his managers and drivers, then I think you should know about it."

"Oh. Yeah. Thank you."

She nodded, shrugging. "It's not problem. I owed him a favor anyways. I should go though, before my members decide to leave without me. You too, Chan, don't stay up in here all night."

"Okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." She hurried out of the room and Chan sighed, looking down at his phone. It was nearly midnight - he should be going home. But there was a notification on his lockscreen.

A text from Seoyeon that read: Just double checking that Jisung is returning to therapy weekly with me, correct? He wasn't here today.

Oh. This recovery was going to be a lot harder than expected.

Chapter Text

Chan felt like the world was crashing down around him when he opened the door to the dorm. He needed to talk to Han - he knew he needed to, and he wanted to - but another part of him just wanted to give up on the day and try again tomorrow. He felt guilty for thinking that. He wanted to slap himself for even imagining the word "give up" even if it's just short-term. Exhaustion couldn't even begin to describe how he felt.

"Hey hyung." Hyunjin called from the kitchen. "You're home early. Well, late... but early for you. You even beat Binnie hyung home."

"Yeah." He sighed, hanging up the keys on the hook and tossing his coat to the side as he plopped down onto the couch. "Hey, Jinnie, can I talk to you for a sec?"

"I promise it wasn't me who threw up on your favorite hoodie!" Hyunjin blurted, raising his hands innocently.

"Wait, what? You threw up on my hoodie?"

"No. I didn't. It was one of Minho's cats."

Chan rolled his eyes - he was wondering where that hoodie had gone to. Now, he didn't really want it back. He sank further into the cushions and ran a hand through his hair. "That's not what I wanted to talk about."

"Oh. Okay then forget I said anything." Hyunjin rounded the sofa and sat down against the armrest, kicking his legs over Chan's lap. "What is it you wanted to talk about then, hyung?"

Chan stared down at his lap, mindlessly stroking Hyunjin's calf as he thought through everything. What did he want to talk about? There were so many things he wanted to say but could he say them to Hyunjin? "Do you think I'm a good leader, Jin?"

Hyunjin's eyes widened. "Are you serious right now?"

"Yeah." Chan sighed, circling his thumb gently around a bruise on Hyunjin's leg. "Do you think I'm able to cater to all of your needs well enough? Or are you left wanting - or needing - more? Do I fill all the things you need me to? Be honest with me, Hyunie, am I a good leader?"

"The fact that you're even concerned about this should be the answer to that, hyung." Hyunjin exclaimed, face displaying absolute shock.

"I just don't think I'm enough for you guys, you know? You deserve someone who can-"

"Chan, stop it." Hyunjin kicked his legs off the elder's lap, and scooted closer until their hip were pressed together. "You are the best leader. Better than anything we could have asked for. At any point in time, we could have turned down your offer to let us debut with you, but we didn't. You didn't just pick us, we picked you too. All of us."

"But you didn't know me well enough back then. How could you have known-"

"I'm still talking, hyung, just listen to me, please. We don't want someone else. We just want you. I don't know what's gotten into that head of yours to make you think you're not worthy, but the truth is, you're the best, Chan. You care about us more than anyone else ever could."

"But what if I don't care enough?"

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. "Really? You don't care enough? I seriously doubt that. Who threatened to give up everything he'd worked for, for seven years, just to get back two members during a survival show? Who took on the roles of a parent for Jeongin to grow-up away from home? Who made Seungmin comfortable in his own skin, and his own smile? Who gave Felix a home when he was miles away from his, in a country he could barely speak the language of? Who showed Jisung love back in his trainee days when he didn't know how to love or be loved? Who argued with JYP himself to get me back from hiatus? Who has gone to the gym with Changbin hyung every day, so he always has a spotter? Who gave Minho a chance to debut when the odds were stacked against him? Hyung, you've done more than enough for us."

"Thanks, Hyunie." Chan reached over, pulling Hyunjin into his arms.

"I still didn't convince you, did I?" A warm chuckle was his only response, but it told Hyunjin all he needed to know. "Hyung, is this about Hannie?"

"What makes you think that?" Chan pulled away, cocking his head to the side at the younger.

"I don't know. I think we're all a little stressed about the situation. But it'll be okay. He'll be fine." I hope - but Hyunjin decided not to add that last part and instead put on an encouraging smile.

"What if I can't be enough for him?" The leader whispered, bowing his head. "He needs help, but what if I can't provide it?"

"But what if you can? You won't know till you try - and you've already done so much for him. He's going to therapy again, hyung. If you ask me, I'd say that's a great start."

Chan groaned and sat back against the couch, squeezing his eyes shut.

"What? Did something happen?" Hyunjin asked quickly, sitting up straighter.

"No. It's personal for Han. I just need to talk to him."

"Oh. Uh oh."

"No. It's not bad it's just-" Chan went silent when he heard a door slam down the hallway. It took way too long for Hyunjin and Chan to lock eyes, but it clicked for both of them at the same time. "Shit." The leader whispered, nearly falling off the couch as he tried to get to his feet as fast as possible.

He'd forgotten that although Changbin wasn't currently home - still at the studio - they had another roommate. Hyunjin and Chan bolted down the hallway to the end where the light was shining out under the bathroom door.

He slid to a stop in front of the wooden door and knocked as gently as possible. "Hannie?" He called through to the other side, glancing behind him at where Hyunjin was nibbling his bottom lip. "Hannie?" He tried again, knocking a little louder.

"I'm fine. Go away." Followed by a sniffle. Not convincing - not even in the slightest.

"Hannie, can you open the door please?" Chan tried, pressing his ear against it to be able to hear the very quiet crying. His heart swelled. Despite all Hyunjin had said, he knew he wasn't enough - he never would be. He should have kept his mouth closed. Why did he say anything? He should have just gone to Han and avoided all of this. "Hannie, I'm really sorry. Can I please come in?"

"I'm fine!" The voice called from inside.

The leader sighed, turning back to Hyunjin. The dancer shrugged and stepped closer to the door, knocking gently. "Hey, Ji, it's Hyunjin. Can I come in please?"

"No. I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me. Please-" His voice broke, and it took a second to get it back. "Please go away."

Hyunjin stepped back to continue nibbling his lip as he looked to the leader for help.

Chan hated doing this but whispered to Hyunjin to grab the spare key out of his room. In his nightstand drawer - shoved to the far back - he kept keys to all the rooms for both dorms in case something happened. He'd only had to use one once when Felix accidentally got locked in his room and thought he was stuck. These situations were very different.

Han didn't remember that Chan had a spare key. Honestly, he wasn't thinking about anything right now but the burning hot hatred in his chest. It hurt to breathe through the self-loathing. Was he so self-absorbed that he failed to see what he was going to his members? Those eight cuts on his leg weren't enough to make up for what he was doing to them. He was destroying them by destroying himself. But how could he stop destroying himself? He wasn't healthy by any means, but he wasn't sick enough to deserve this kind of love and attention.

Alien. I'm just an alien. I don't fit. I'll never fit.

His eyes flickered to the shower, though he knew that Hyunjin's razor was long gone. But there is one more place he could look. He crawled on his hands and knees to the cabinet under the sink. It held bottles of shampoo and a big bag of cotton balls but behind all of that, he found what he was looking for: the spare razor heads.

He ripped the package open, fingers icy and numb as he gripped one of the razor heads in his hand. His whole body was buzzing with fear. His members know. What would they do if they knew he did this again? They'd be disappointed, he was sure. Would they hate him? Probably. He hated himself for this. But he deserved the hate. He deserved every last bit of it. He deserved the pain too.

What he was doing to Chan... the poor leader had enough on his shoulders as it was with managers demanding songs for their next album as soon as possible. He was making his problems worse - he was making everything worse. Wouldn't it be better if they were rid of him? He was holding them back. He didn't mean to, but he was, and he knew he was.

He pulled the waistband of his jeans down and hiked up the bottom of his boxers, peering down at the 8 cuts from last time. The scabs were falling off, replaced by light pink scars. Scars that would stick with him and remind him of what he was - a monster.

Anger boiled inside of him and he pressed the razor head hard into his skin. There was a split second he just held it there before the voice always plaguing his mind screamed "DO IT" and he flicked his wrist. Pain spiked through his leg, and he stumbled backwards, running into the wall behind him.

"Oh shit." He gasped, watching blood immediately roll down his leg. It was deep. That was a lot deeper than intended. He just wanted to release a little bit of tightness in his chest, quiet the screaming in his head, he hadn't intended to make himself bleed that much. It flowed down his leg and he released the hem of his boxers to instead cup his hand against his thigh, hoping to catch the blood before it stained his jeans.

Then the door opened. Han's heart leaped into his throat, and he dropped the razor head. It clattered to the floor and all Han could do was stare at Chan and Hyunjin as they stared back.

There were no words for a situation like this. What was he supposed to say? He'd barely satisfied the voice in his head either. Other times it would leave him alone - completely and utterly alone - after he cut, but this time it was screaming to do more. To cut until the blood couldn't flow anymore.

Shut up! He screamed back in his head.

"Oh my god, Jisung." Hyunjin gasped, hands covering his mouth as tears pooled in his eyes. While his boxers covered the cut and scars, the blood dripping into his hand was very visible - so visible it felt like the only thing to see in the room. Like a bug drawn to the light, all eyes were on the blood dripping down his thigh.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Han repeated, pulling his jeans back up, not even caring if he got blood on them. Why did it matter anyways? They'd seen the blood. What was there to hide?

It was one thing reading about it in his diary, it was another seeing it in real life.

"Hyunjin, go." Chan whispered, though his voice held an air of leadership.

"But-"

"I'll be out in a minute, Hyun. I promise."

The tears dripped down the dancer's cheeks and he quickly turned away, trying his best to hide them as he disappeared down the hallway. Chan turned his back and closed the door, locking it behind him and setting the spare key on the counter.

Of course. The spare key. How could I be so stupid?! Han yelled in his head.

When the leader turned back, Han immediately avoided his gaze. It was too much. Too real and emotional. He could feel the love in his eyes and he didn't deserve that love. He didn't want it. He wanted hate. He wanted to cut his skin until there was nothing left to cut. He wanted to destroy himself on the outside to mimic the way he felt inside. Everything inside was flayed open like he'd been scourged. It hurt. His heart squeezed, his lungs expanded fruitlessly, and his head was spinning at the volume at which the voice inside was screaming. "I'm sorry." Was all he could think to say as he leaned back against the wall, sinking down.

As soon as he was squatting though, the skin around the cut was pulled tight and he winced, a pained gasp escaping him as he quickly shot his legs out in front of him. It hurt worse than before. He cut too deep. He knew he did. He didn't even want to look at the cut this time.

"Hannie, it's just me and you." Chan spoke gently, kneeling on the opposite side of the bathroom - which was only about two feet away from Han but it was as much space as he could give. "I'm going to take this, yeah?"

Han didn't even realize the razor head was right beside him until Chan very, very cautiously reached over and picked it up, pocketing it. He was slow, watching Han the entire time like he might attack and it clicked in the young rapper that that's exactly what it was. He was prone to hurting himself - this was the third time he'd cut, that's not counting all the head banging and attempts to make himself vomit. What's to say he wouldn't hurt someone else?

"I'm so sorry, hyung. Please. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean this. I didn't mean for any of this. Please, you gotta believe me." He babbled, tears forming in his eyes, and it took everything he had to keep them from falling.

"Shh, shh, I know, Hannie." Chan scooted closer, kneeling between Han's open legs now, hands raised in a pacifying gesture. "Can I help you? Can you please let me help you?"

"No!" Oh hell no. If Chan saw the cut... the tears overflowed and dripped heavily out of his eyes onto his shirt. "I'm- I'm..." What? A monster? A disaster? Gross? Fat? Ugly? A disappointment? He was all of those things, which one should he say? "I don't want help. I don't want help, hyung. Please, go."

"I would, Han, you know I would if you asked. But you're hurt right now and I gotta help you get better, yeah?"

"But I'm the one who did it." He raised his hands to cover his face, humiliation seeping through and painting his entire body red with embarrassment. "I did it, hyung. I did-" His voice broke off into a sob and he clamped down hard on his lip to try to hold it in.

"I know... it's..." Chan went silent. His usual phrase "it's okay" wasn't true in this situation and they both knew the words would have no meaning, so he left them unsaid. "Can I just see, please?"

Han didn't answer, afraid that if he tried, he would start sobbing.

"Jisung?" The elder tried again. "Can I please see? I won't touch, I promise."

Touching wasn't the problem. It was the fact that he could see in a real, tangible way, that he was hurting. When it was inside, it was easy to hide it and say he's fine, but that inside was coming out and now the leader - someone Han had looked up to for eight years now - would be able to see it. The embarrassment made the tears fall faster and he pulled his good leg up to hide his face behind.

His other leg really did hurt. It was still bleeding. He'd have to take care of it soon. He'd have to find it in himself to pull himself up out of the grave he'd dug for himself and clean up his own blood, hide his own crime scene. He didn't have that kind of energy. He didn't know how he'd be able to get that kind of energy. "Okay." He whispered, half hoping the moment of bravery to consent to it was missed by the leader but of course it wasn't.

He felt Chan's hand on his hip, fingers looping in the belt loops. "Can you take these off for just a sec, Ji? Just so I can see?"

Han squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to look at Chan - maybe if he didn't see the leader, he could pretend this wasn't happening. Of course, that never worked. He pulled his jeans off, kicking them to the side and hiding himself behind his knee again, pulling his leg like it was a lifeline.

He felt Chan's warm hands on his thigh, carefully pushing the bottom of his boxers up unto his hip. He kept his hands to the outside of his leg, conscious to not bump Han inappropriately and make him feel even more uncomfortable. He had to do everything he could to keep the gasp contained inside of him. The only thing he could think was: that's a lot of blood.

"Can I clean it up for you, please?" Chan asked, his voice breaking and switching to a higher octave. He watched Han nod, hair flopping to cover his already hidden face with an extra protective layer. "Alright, let me grab the first aid kit." He hated leaving Han's side, but it was just to scoot back to the cabinet under the sink.

He found it a disheveled mess, a package of razor heads crowning the wreckage. He took out the box and placed it by the spare key on the counter, planning to hide it in his drawer too. Once he got the first aid kit in his hand, he grabbed a washcloth and wet it under the sink, wringing it out before bringing everything back to the young rapper who hadn't moved an inch.

Chan could see how shelled up Han was. He was hiding in a tight ball like maybe the leader wouldn't see him, but he was freely offering his wounds to him. More than the cuts, this was a physical representation of Han, Chan realized. He was closed off, terrified of facing the facts, wanting to be alone and left that way. But simultaneously, he was asking for help, offering his wounds to be cleaned and cared for by the people he loved and who loved him. It was a battle raging inside that Chan could now physically see. Did he want help, or did he want to be left alone to rot forever?

He knelt down by Han's leg, unraveling the washcloth and placing it over his open palm. "I'm gonna clean this, Ji, it's gonna hurt for just a second, yeah?" He didn't want to hurt, Hannie, but judging by the cut, it was already hurting anyways.

Han's hair flopped again, and Chan set his hand on the cut, the wet washcloth pressing into the wound. Immediately, a tight hiss escaped the young rapper's mouth, and he squeezed the skin on his good leg until his fingers went white. Chan lifted his spare hand and rubbed it over one of Han's. The younger latched onto his wrist, squeezing until the elder was certain his hand would pop off.

He didn't know what to say. What could he say? All words seemed to fail in a moment like this. But, as if the words were given to him in a script, he quietly whispering. "You don't deserve this, Hannie. You deserve so better than this. God, I hate how your mind is lying to you. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you."

An exhausted sob left the younger's mouth and Chan went silent, unsure if he said the right thing or the very much wrong thing. But the younger spoke up again, his voice holding the weight of everything raining down on him. "Why am I like this? I don't want to be like this. I want to be normal. Please, I just want to be normal."

"Oh, aegi." Chan couldn't hold himself back. He reached for Han and pulled him against his chest, hiding him against himself. Maybe the voice would leave him alone, but Chan knew he couldn't hide Jisung from what was inside of him. It hurt. It hurt more than Chan realized anything could hurt.

"I'm sorry. Hyung, I- I didn't go to therapy today." Han admitted, his breath warm against Chan's neck. He tried not to think of the fact that he was so close to the leader that he could probably feel every inch of fat on him. But trying not to think about it and actually following through with that were two entirely different things.

"I know. It's okay." The things the leader had wanted to say before about it were gone. What did it matter anyways? It didn't matter - not when he had Han in his arms, bleeding out of wounds he'd created. Nothing else mattered.

"I'm sorry." Han repeated like a broken record. He didn't know what else to say though. He was sorry for everything - his entire existence. He had to apologize even if it would never even touch how truly and deeply sorry he was.

"Please don't apologize, Hannie, this isn't you fault. This isn't your fault at all."

"It is. I did this." He pushed back, finally daring to look into Chan's soft, caring eyes. Too much love for someone who didn't deserve it - Han tore his gaze away to where the elder's hand was pressed against the self-inflicted wound on his thigh. "I did this, hyung. No one else. Me. It was all me. No one told me to do it. I made myself do it. And I can't... I can't make myself stop. It just... it's the only thing I have control over. It's the only way to make it quiet. It's the only way. But... I don't want it. I do it and I think I want it but I don't. But I don't realize that until after I've done it." His hands hovered over Chan's, hiding the wound from his own eyes. He could feel it though, he could very much feel it. Chan pressed harder, almost like he could hide even the knowledge of it from the younger and cupped his chin, turning his head up to face him.

"Don't look at it, Ji. Just look at me, yeah? Keep your eyes on me and I'll clean it and cover it. Out of sight, out of mind, right?"

Han shook his head, though not hard enough to pull his chin from Chan's hand. "That won't work, hyung."

"It will." Chan nodded, glancing down at his hand pressed on Han's thigh. "It will work. It will. It'll be fine."

He has no idea what he's doing - Han realized as he watched Chan lift the washcloth, peeking under it in a way that made sure Han couldn't see the cut. Han watched the leader bite his lip, eyes soft and dewy - like he might cry. Han felt like crying too - he already was, but he felt like crying harder.

He has no idea what he's supposed to do in this situation - Han thought as he watched Chan's movements carefully - he's probably never had to deal with this before. No one should have to. But here he is, cleaning my blood. Helping both the victim and the victimizer. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be seeing this. It's me - I'm the one who should have to deal with these consequences. Not him.

The leader pulled the washcloth away and opened the firstaid kit, glancing up at Han but just like he'd suggested, Han's eyes were on him, not the cut. He knew he was doing a bad job at hiding how terrified he was, but even after all that, it seemed Han still trusted him enough to take control of the situation. He couldn't disappoint him then. Han was his first kid, he had to stay strong for him.

He pulled a disinfectant wipe from the first aid kit and tore the package open. Prepping it over the still seeping cut, he spared another glance at the younger. "This is gonna sting, Hannie."

"I don't care." He whispered, bowing his head.

Chan cared, so he tried to be quick but thorough as he swiped the wipe over the cut. He could see the discomfort in the younger's expression, his eyes were squeezed shut and his lip was white from where it was held between his teeth. He tossed the wipe to the side and reached over to grab a bandaid and ointment. The bleeding was nearly done by the time he was placing the bandaid over the cut and it gave him the chance to actually see what Han had suffered from. He could see the skin parted, like a little canyon in his flesh. It wasn't super deep, he could see the bottom through the specks of blood, but he must have cut it just right for it to bleed so much. It wasn't a gory sight, and Chan wasn't super squeamish after having taken care of seven younger boys for several years, but the meaning behind the cut and the eight scabs around it were what made him gag. He quickly pressed the bandaid over it to hide it and gently pulled the hem of Han's boxer leg to cover the bandaid.

Han was right, out of sight didn't mean out of mind. If anything, Chan thought about it more. Like when you lose a spider in a bedroom. Knowing it's still there but unable to see it just makes it worse.

"It's getting late." Chan said, his voice shaky despite his best efforts to hide the fear. "You should go to bed, Hannie."

Han's hair flopped around as he shook his head still tucked behind his knee. "I won't be able to sleep."

Chan hummed as he picked up the soiled washcloth, trying to avoid looking at the red soaked into it. "What if I laid with you for a bit? Do you think you could sleep then?"

"I don't know."

"Let's just try it." He stood up, tossing the washcloth into the hamper by the door and throwing the other used supplies into the trash can. He came back to Han and offered his hands to the rapper.

Han didn't look up at the leader, but reached out to grab onto him, pulling himself to his feet. An unintentional cry of pain escaped him, and he slammed his fist over his mouth, biting his knuckle to try to lessen the pain in his leg. It was his fault, he did it, he shouldn't be complaining about it. Even now he still wanted to dig those razor blades into his skin and watch himself bleed - to get what he deserved.

"Hurts pretty bad, huh bud?" Chan asked softly, squeezing Han's hands back though the younger was basically breaking his hands with the strength at which he was holding on.

"Shut up. Don't patronize me." He snapped, shooting a glare up at the leader. Chan watched as the anger in his expression switched immediately over to regret. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, hyung. I'm just- I'm so pissed right now."

"At me?" The elder clarified and the expression on the younger's face answered that question immediately.

"No! At myself. I'm so pissed at myself. For everything. All of this. I'm- I hate myself. I fucking hate myself!" He yanked his hands out of Chan's and fisted his hair, pulling at the roots.

"Woah, Ji. Hey, take a deep breath, yeah?" The elder's hands hovered around the younger aimlessly, unsure whether touching him would make it worse or better. "Can I hug you? Hannie, please, can I give you a hug?"

Han fell into Chan's chest, wrapping his arms around the elder's neck and pulling him desperately close like any space between them might kill him. "Why are you still here, hyung? Why don't you hate me already?"

"That's never gonna happen, Jisung. I'm always going to be here. I'm always going to love you."

"Even when I hate myself?" Han cried into his chest.

"Oh aegi." He wrapped his arms around him, securing the younger to his chest so Han had no hope of escaping him. "I'm not going to love you any less because of any of this. I'm sad, yes. Watching you struggle with this is one of the worst things I've ever had to see, but I'm not going to leave you to suffer through it along. We're getting through this together, and I bet any of the others would share the same train of thought."

"I love you, hyung." Han cried, listening to the elder's pounding heart in his chest. It was real, alive, warm, safe, comforting. It was everything Han needed. He tried to quiet down to listen to it, and the quieter his cries got, the slower it beat. It was a circle, he realized. The leader's heartbeat was calming him down, and the calmer Han got, the calmer Chan got - which soothed Han, continuing the cycle.

That was until there was a knock on the bathroom door. Chan didn't let Han go, he simply glanced up at where Hyunjin was peeking inside, Changbin right behind him still in his winter coat. But instead of looking relieved to see that things were going somewhat better, they looked terrified. "What's wrong?" The leader asked, catching on immediately. Han managed to lift his head up from Chan's chest and peer over his shoulder at the others.

"They... um." Hyunjin began, holding up his phone to look at the screen.

"They released a statement. The company." Changbin continued. "About Jisung."

"No." Jisung breathed, eyes wide. "I thought... I thought they weren't going to yet."

"You knew about this?" Changbin asked, raising his eyebrows.

Han bit his lip and glanced up at Chan, who gazed down at him confused. "I knew... but they didn't tell me. I overheard our manager talking to my driver earlier today. They... they weren't going to release anything yet."

"Was that why you had Sana drive you today?" Chan asked and now it was Jisung's turn to look confused. "She told me." He answered before the younger could ask. "She told me that she thought something was going on between you and the managers. It's that statement, isn't it? That's what was wrong."

"I thought I'd have time to ask them not to. I thought... I don't know."

"They didn't confront you about this?" Changbin asked, eyes darkening. "They didn't get your permission to release this?" Han shook his head, and he could see the older rapper fuming. "So, they released this crap without your consent? This isn't even accurate! They're making up half the stuff in here!"

"What does it say, Bin?" Chan asked, pulling Han tighter when he felt the younger's chest stutter in an attempt to breathe properly.

"It says that he's depressed and suicidal." Hyunjin whispered, glancing down at his phone again.

Han wanted to correct him that in all honestly, that wasn't exactly a lie anymore, but decided it was best to hold his tongue. Talking seemed like too much of a challenge anyways. Everything was too much of a challenge. The only thing he could do now was hug Chan and wish away the rest of the world. He buried his face back into the elder's chest, this time though, not even the soothing beat of the leader's heart was enough to calm him.

His secret was out. Everything was falling apart right in front of him, and he was powerless to stop it.

Chapter Text

Minho knew something was up the moment the 3Racha + Hyunjin dorm joined the rest of the members in the practice room. How could anyone miss the way the light, playful atmosphere twisted into something dark and terrifying. Even Felix's ever-present smile faltered when he looked at the group as they entered.

"Good morning." Chan greeted them and their dance instructor as soon as he entered. Minho would applaud him for his valiant efforts to seem casual and happy, but the dancer knew the leader too well and knew that his smile wasn't what to base his emotions off of. Chan's eyes gave it away. It gave away an emotion Minho hadn't expected: anger.

And not just mad anger, it was pure, burning, raw seething hatred that was coming from Chan's eyes. A type of anger Minho hadn't seen from the leader's eyes since the day he was eliminated. It terrified even him and he could only manage a short bow of his head while the boys put their bags down for practice.

Minho made a mental note to ask Chan what was going on later, but it didn't seem like he'd need it. He went to switch out his street shoes with his dance shoes, which so happened to be by the wall, the same spot that Hyunjin and Han were getting ready. Even with Hyunjin's barely audible whispering, the dancer's ears were tuned to the members hushed voices.

"You really don't look good, Ji. Are you sure you're okay to be here today?" Hyunjin whispered, standing over the younger as he dug through his bag for his water bottle. "No one would blame you if you wanted to go home."

"I'm fine, Jinnie." Han sighed, and Minho's heart broke at the absolute exhaustion in his voice. It sounded like the younger's world was falling apart around him and that he'd just given up trying to patch it together. He wanted to hug Han, tell him not to give up on himself - he'd only been at therapy for two sessions, nothing was going to change that fast. But he kept his mouth shut, because sometimes, listening tells you more than asking.

"You're not fine, Ji, please don't say that." Hyunjin whispered back, running a hand through his hair. "Just... promise me that if your leg hurts too much you'll stop. Okay?"

"Sure." Han mumbled and stood up, abandoning his search for his water bottle. As soon as he stood up though he froze and blinked rapidly.

"Are you okay?" Hyunjin asked in a normal tone, attracted the attention of the other members. They all turned to look at the two rappers.

"Just give me- give me a second." Han panted, reaching a hand up to dig his palm into his eye.

"Are you dizzy?" Minho decided to ask, though he didn't exactly need to ask it, he could see Han swaying on his feet even though his entire body had gone rigid.

"Fine. I'm fine. Just..." He opened his eyes to find seven boys plus their dance instructor staring at him. Humiliation painted his face red. How was he supposed to admit that when he was "eating" he was stuffing food into his pockets to flush down the toilet later? He felt guilty enough wasting the food. But he felt a million times guiltier lying to the others. He was still being forced to eat - he couldn't avoid their eyes enough to escape everything. He hated his reflection. And he hated that they could see him here now and see the truth that he wasn't eating what they deemed proper.

It is proper. I'm not dying. I'm not sick. I'm still eating. I should be fine. Why am I so weak? Is it 'cuz I've been cutting back on water? Maybe I'm a little dehydrated but I shouldn't be feeling this terrible. I'm not sick... so why do I feel like I am?

"Hannie?" Felix asked, tilting his head to the side. "You look a little pale."

"Did you eat breakfast, hyung?" Jeongin asked, carefully.

Han's eyes flickered over to their dance instructor. Did he know about the statement? Was he a part of publishing it? Did he agree with his manager that maybe he was overexaggerating and making all of this up? How could he know what was going on in that man's head? But the voice inside his own head seemed to know the answer. And it consisted of judging, judging, and more judging. He turned his head away, looking up at Hyunjin who looked near tears with concern. "I'm fine, Jinnie, I just need to use the restroom. I'll be right back." He bolted from the room, as fast as his shaky legs would take him. He couldn't let them look at him anymore. They could see the fat. But worse, half of them had seen the cuts and scars. The ugliest parts of him were on display, but honestly, were there any pretty parts of him anymore? Were there ever pretty parts? He slammed the bathroom door shut after being mindful to check that it was the boys' bathroom, and his buried his head in his hands.

Despite everything happening, the urge to cut tingled in the back of his mind and he pulled at his hair, hoping to satisfy that itch. It didn't work. It never did. Would anything work? Or was he doomed to live like this forever, fallen victim to himself and imprisoned in this hell by himself? If that was the case, he didn't want to live anymore. Everything was falling apart, shattering like a beautiful piece of stained glass. It was almost mesmerizing watching it splinter and wondering how long until those pieces hit the ground to never be usable again. The only difference was that stained glass was pretty to look at.

Minho glanced around the room at the other members before taking off after Han. Someone needed to hold him when he needed held. Someone had to listen to his cries so he wouldn't try to hide them. Minho would happily take that role, even if it meant breaking his own heart. But as soon as he reached the hallway, he heard Chan calling his name. He reluctantly spun around, glaring at the leader. His anger at being stopped was easily rivaling Chan's anger from the unknown cause. "What?" He snapped, far too harshly for how he intended.

Chan, even though he looked furious, didn't seem to take it to heart. Minho took it as a good sign that he wasn't angry with him. "Min, we need to talk for a minute. Something happened with the company last night and... I need someone to consult with."

Minho's anger vanished and his eyes widened. "You mean... you don't know what to do."

The leader sighed and shook his head. "Yeah. I don't know what to do."

Minho's heart skipped a beat. Chan, even if he didn't have a solution, always figured one out. And if he didn't, he'd pretend he did. Never once would he come to one of them for help with "leader" business. He was sure to keep them out of those stressful situations that he deemed unimportant for them to be aware of. Like the company pressing for more songs for albums. He'd always just coerce Changbin and Han into staying in the studio late with boba and pizza on him. Minho knew his tricks, though he still often fell victim to them. But... Chan was asking for help. Suddenly, Minho doubted himself and his abilities to do anything to help him. He gulped, trying to bring his confidence back but it seemed to have retreated to the far corner of his mind. "What's wrong with Hannie?" He managed to ask.

"The company released a statement about him." Chan answered, the anger burning brighter in his eyes.

"You allowed them to do that?!" Minho exclaimed, bordering on yelling.

"No. They didn't say a word to me. And they didn't ask for Han's permission either." He glanced over at the clock on the wall and then at the janitor down the hall vacuuming a rug. "Let's go talk in my studio."

"But Hannie-"

"Felix will go find him. I think he just needs a hug right now... he had a rough night last night."

Minho sighed and followed the leader to his studio.

"They did what?" Minho exclaimed, jumping up from the couch. He didn't even give Chan the chance to continue his explanation, he was already reaching for the doorknob, ready to go knock some managers' heads in.

Han. His Han. His friend, his brother, the one who understood him better than anyone else could. They had no right releasing his private information to the world. Han didn't even want to share that information with the members - of course he wouldn't want it to be publicized. Minho was burning with anger as he marched down the hallway, hands balled into fists.

"Hold on, Lino!" Chan called, running after him down the hallway. "You've got to listen to me. We can't just barge in there-"

"Why not?" Minho snapped, glaring at the leader though he meant no disrespect to him.

"Because..." The eldest seemed to scramble for an answer as he continued down the hallway. He nibbled his lip, seeming to wrack his brain for a reasonable response, but instead of coming up with something calming and logical, a fire sparked behind his eyes and he set his jaw. "You know what? Yeah, let's go. Let's go let them know what it's like to be drop-kicked to the curb when you're already down. Metaphorically speaking."

"Why not literally?" Minho frowned, though the voice in his head was smiling, egging him on to go drop-kick the entirety of the JYPE staff.

"Because... We'll talk about it when we get there. Come on." Chan took Minho's hand and quickened his pace down the hallway towards the stairs. "There's a meeting about our Paris concert that's coming up this morning. Most of the managers who were involved in that post should be there in the conference room. I've got the key."

"I fucking love it when you use your leader benefits for this kind of stuff." Minho chuckled, hurrying faster and dragging Chan along with him even though he had no idea where they were supposed to be going.

"Yeah, well, when it comes to one of my boys, I'm using everything I've got at my disposal."

"Muscles. Pepper Spray. You've been trained a little bit in boxing right?"

"Lino." Chan warned though there was a rebellious smirk growing on his face.

Minho shrugged, knowing he didn't need to say more. The seed was planted, and he had no doubt that if the need arose, Chan would have his fists raised to defend Han. Minho would be right beside him if not in front of him defending Han and he was beginning to wonder what Chan had said to restrain Changbin and Hyunjin.

The freeing feeling of running through the JYPE halls with Chan to go put some shitty managers into place for Han's sake made Minho feel alive. If only Han knew what lengths they'd go through for him, and if only it would make a difference to him.

"Hannie? Jisung? Please let me come in." Felix begged, knocking on the bathroom door again.

"I'm fine. Go away." Was the repeated response he got.

"You're not fine. Please let me come in." Felix tried again, but he'd said that same thing last time Han rejected him. And the time before. And the time before. For ten minutes he'd been knocking on that door, begging to be let in. The staff passing by were beginning to get suspicious and several of them gave him very confused looks. He'd smile and wave them off but immediately go back to knocking and begging for entry.

Felix sighed and knocked again. "Please, Hannie. I just want to help you."

"I don't want help. I don't need it."

"Okay, then can we just talk?"

"No. Go away."

The sound of someone clearing their throat got Felix's attention and he turned around to find a man standing there. He was familiar, and it took the dancer an embarrassingly long time to realize it was the man who was front desk security for JYPE. Todd? Ted? Fred? Felix couldn't remember his name. "Hi." He greeted the man, noticing the way he was shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

The security guard glanced both ways down the hallway then shrugged. "Oops." He smiled and dropped a single key on the ground before heading down the hallway back to his desk. Felix watched him leave, utterly confused, before he looked down at the lonely silver key.

Oh. Ohhhhhh

Felix bent down and picked it up, sliding it into the bathroom lock and twisting. He heard the lock click open and sighed in relief, making a mental note to actually learn and remember that guy's name - and the thank him while he was at it. He slipped the key into his pocket and slipped inside the door, locking it again as soon as he was in.

He expected to find Han against the wall crying, not hunched over the toilet. "Are you sick?" He blurted. Peering into the open lid and finding stomach acids mixing with the toilet water. There was no food in the vomit though and Felix's heart constricted in worry.

"I threw up." Han whimpered, bowing his head to lay his cheek against the toilet seat.

"Was it... did you do it on purpose?" Felix asked, shaking where he stood against the door. He wanted to be there for Han, but he didn't know what that meant. What was someone supposed to do in this situation? He had no clue. They didn't exactly teach him this in training.

"No." Han shook his head rapidly. "I just don't feel good. I feel like-" He gagged, cutting himself off.

"So, you are sick?"

"I don't know." Han blurted, rubbing his watery, bloodshot eyes. "I don't feel good, Lix."

Well, at least now he wasn't denying it. Getting through the physical door to Han must have also pushed through the mental door to him. The dancer was stuck somewhere between relieved and concerned. "What doesn't feel good? Just your stomach?"

"Everything." Han sighed then gagged, clamping his jaw shut tightly. Felix knew in that moment that Han had definitely not thrown up intentionally. If he was trying to force himself to be sick, why would he fight it so much? It didn't add up. He was actually sick then.

Felix nodded to himself; sick Han was a Han he'd dealt with before. He could handle that easily. Sure, there were other things going on, but it was still just Han. The same boy he'd known and loved for years. He was still in there, suppressed by the voice plaguing his mind, but there nonetheless. Felix squatted beside Han and rested his hand against the younger's forehead. "I'm not an expert at touch temperatures, not like Chan and Minho hyung are, but if I had to guess, I'd say you're pretty warm right now, Hannie."

"I feel like crap. I look like crap. I'm just crap." Han mumbled, nuzzling his cheek against the cold toilet seat. Felix wasn't about to comment on it. The way the elder's big, round eyes were gazing at him in a way Felix hadn't seem before, he wasn't sure he could actually say anything.

"You're not crap. You're just sick, I think." The Aussie offered, sitting on the floor and tucking his knees up to his chest. "I'll sit here with you until we can go home, okay?"

"You don't like listening to us throw up." Han whispered, blinking sluggishly.

"I- No, not particularly." Felix began but cut off the elder when he tried to answer. "But! I don't think I'll get sick right now. I'll just sit here, and if I feel bad, I'll grab Changbin hyung - he has a tougher stomach than me. But I think I'll be okay. Gotta watch out for my twin, right?"

"I didn't go to therapy yesterday."

Felix furrowed his brow. "What?"

Han shook his head. "I don't deserve it. I'm not... I don't belong there. I can't- I can't put it into words. I just don't fit. I just can't fit. It's like... I'm not sick enough to be there, but I'm not healthy enough to be here. And now I actually feel sick but it's not like that. This is real and you can see it and I can feel it, and I know it's real. But the other kind of sick... it's not visible. It's like it's not real."

"But it is real." Felix countered, hoping he was understanding correctly. "Seeing isn't always believing, Han. Sometimes the things we can't see and can only feel are the things that are the most real."

"How? I'm not... I'm not anorexic or bulimic. I'm not suicidal." You've definitely thought of dying, and you have definitely tried to purge before, but it doesn't work. It doesn't work because you don't even fit in with that group. You're an alien, Han Jisung.

"Well, you know I love you, right?"

Han shrugged.

"Oh, come on. You know I do."

"I guess so. Yeah." The elder sighed, biting his lip as a wave of nausea crashed over him.

"Yeah. So how do you know that?"

"Because you're nice to me. You're sitting here when I look like crap. I don't deserve you sitting here, Lix. Please, just-" He gagged and squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to get sick and make Felix feel bad. How did the dancer even get in here anyways? He had that door locked for a reason.

"I'm gonna stay, Hannie." Felix said, reaching out to rub his thumb along the elder's knuckles, which were white as he gripped the toilet seat. "And yes. I'm sitting here for you. I care about you. But you can't see that love, can you? I would be concerned if you could. But you know I love you because you've seen it manifest in actions and you can feel it. It's the same with your anxiety. You can't see it, but it manifests in actions, and you feel it. I know you feel it, because even I can feel it. Please believe me when I say that mental health is just as real and important as physical health."

"But I'm not enough. It's not enough to deserve this kind of attention. I'm not anorexic. I've barely lost any weight. I'm still fat. It doesn't matter what I do, it won't change."

"You don't have to be able to count your ribs to be considered anorexic. I'm not saying that you are, I don't know. All I'm saying is that you don't have to fit a certain textbook description to deserve help. You'd deserve help even if nothing was wrong and you just thought that it might be. You deserve help, Hannie. You deserve to heal."

Han blinked up at Felix and for a second, the Aussie saw a spark of hope behind his eyes. That was until he started gagging again into the toilet. "But in this case, you're physically sick, and I'm going to go text Chan to get permission to bring you home."

"Thanks." Han gagged.

Chan knocked on the conference room door, his heart pounding. Every thought in his head was about the clever things he'd say to the managers, all the remarks he'd make and every little bit of evidence supporting how they're terrible people.

It took a few seconds too long for Minho's taste though apparently, because the younger sighed and nearly kicked down the door. One of the managers inside was already standing, probably the one sent to check who had knocked, but the rest just turned their seats around and stared at Minho and Chan.

And Minho froze. After getting eliminated, Minho did everything right in the company's eyes. He did exactly what they asked of him without fail, but now he was about to yell in their faces (which he was still certain they deserved) but every plan and thought that supported him failed and he was left staring right back at the managers.

Fortunately, he wasn't alone.

"Can we speak for a moment?" Chan asked, clenching his jaw and crossing his arms. Minho was so glad he was standing beside the leader and not opposing him - that look was one that would terrify any person in his way.

"Sure, Chan, what seems to be the problem?" One of the managers asked, motioning them into the room. Minho carefully closed the door, taking as much time as possible to have his back turned to them. Chan easily stepped forward though.

"The problem is that statement you released yesterday about Han." The leader began, standing right at the end of the table like it was his meeting all along to run the way he wanted. There was something about the leader's aura that really did give that perfect commanding nature and the one staff member who had been standing plopped back in their seat. "Did any of you object to that statement?"

"I did." The manager that had warned Chan all along about the company blurted, raising his hand high and proud. "I told them not to release it, but I wasn't even invited to the meeting where they discussed it and wrote the post."

Chan nodded a quick bow to that manager, he was truly thankful for the things he had done for them - he wasn't mad at him, not at all. But his eyes turned to the other several managers present. Some were for marketing, some were for international relations, others were training managers, stylists, everything for the company that they'd need. But out of all of them, only one stood up for Han. The anger in Chan's blood boiled until he was forcing himself to take deep breaths so he wouldn't say something he'd regret. "Not a single one of you thought to ask for his consent to release such private information? None of you thought about the fact that this isn't something that involves the company? This was a personal matter, and you openly gave it to the public without so much as fact-checking yourselves."

"Oh, I see." The main manager, the one in charge of all the other managers nodded, leaning forward onto the table. "You're upset we released the statement about Jisung's mental health status. Well, I would like to inform you that the number of subscribers to Stray Kids increased by 600 thousand since last night, and the number of albums bought is nearly the number it was when promotions first started. The song Han wrote for five-star, Collision, is going viral on tiktok, and your number of monthly listeners on Spotify has increased by over a million in just a few hours. Han has single handedly brought you boys up overnight. Instead of being upset, I think you should thank him."

"Thank him?!" Minho exclaimed, turning around from his spot at the door and glaring at the head manager. "Thank him for what? Last I recall, you were all mad at him because he wasn't performing his "idol duties" and now you want to thank him just because he made your job easier for a reason that you had no right getting involved in."

"You're getting it all wrong, Lino, dear." The single female manager in the room - the head of styling - spoke up, raising her hand. "We didn't post personal information about him. Chan didn't share that kind of stuff with us, so we took creative liberties. Nothing personal was released - his privacy is very important to us."

"You lied to millions of people." Minho stated, shaking his head. "For what? For followers? Likes? A trending hashtag? You took his name, his image, his life, and you dragged it through the dirt before hanging it up for everyone to see. That sounds pretty personal to me."

"That wasn't the intention, Lino." The stylist sighed. "Please just listen to us, and I think you'll understand."

"No!" Minho exclaimed, pounding his fist on the table. "I don't care what you have to say."

"We could sue you, you know." Chan spoke up, putting his hand on Minho's shoulder and pulling him back. "If Han so chooses, we could sue for defamation." The faces of all the managers went white. Bingo. "Everything you just said gave us all the evidence we need. And we've got it on camera." He nodded towards the security cameras in the corner of the room. "You released false statements about him. Statements that could ruin his reputation."

"We didn't-" The head manager spoke up, rising slowly out of his seat though he looked seconds from passing out.

"But you did." Chan nodded. "Whether it was your intention or not. If you don't immediately revoke and apologize for your false statement, then we will sue. And nothing in our contracts says we can't start a lawsuit. It's perfectly legal on our behalf. And if we really are bringing in as many followers and money as you say we are, I don't think JYP would take lightly to losing all of that wealth and fame."

"Yes. I suppose." The manager sank back down into his seat, clearly unable to hold himself upright.

"Yeah." Chan took a deep breath. "24 hours. If I check my phone tomorrow morning and I don't see an apology to Han and to Stay for lying, then we will be finding a lawyer." He turned to Minho who just stared at him, wide-eyed. "Come on, Lino, we have practice still." He grabbed the younger's hand and walked him towards the door, slamming it shut behind him and releasing the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Hyung?" Minho began once they were in the hallway. "Can we actually sue?"

"Yes. Defamation is legal harm." Chan reached into his pocket where his phone had been buzzing for the past several minutes. He looked at the screen to find three missed calls and twelve texts. All from Felix.

"What's wrong?" Minho asked, peering over the leader's shoulder. "Hannie threw up?" He exclaimed upon seeing the first message.

After quickly scrolling through the twelve messages, Chan motioned for the dancer to follow him down to the first-floor bathroom. They practically sprinted through the halls until they were at the bottom floor and Chan would have broken down the bathroom door had it not been locked.

"Felix?" He pounded his fist on the door, rattling possibly the entire building.

The door was unlocked and opened immediately to reveal a slightly scared looking blonde Aussie and his twin hunched over the toilet groaning about feeling like crap. Han immediately stopped when he looked over and found the two oldest members though.

"Uh oh." Minho whispered, hurrying around Felix to come to Han's side. He leaned over him, pressing his hand to the younger's forehead and cheeks. "Aw, Hannie, you've got a fever, aegi."

"I feel terrible." The rapper whimpered, his eyes big and watery as he gazed up at Minho like the elder could rescue him from his illness.

Chan closed the door behind him and locked it, not wanting to explain why there were four boys stuffed into the same bathroom to any passersby. He wasn't in the mood to do anything else but take care of his members. "Hey Ji, do you want to go to the doctor?"

"No." Han shook his head rapidly but stopped abruptly and bit his lip.

Minho got the hint and tipped the younger's head over the toilet bowl again just as he started gagging. He didn't let up on his clenched jaw though. If anything, Han bit his lip harder. He really didn't want to throw up. He hated throwing up and remembered exactly why he wasn't able to get himself to do it before whenever he tried. Sure, it might help him lose weight, but the feeling it left him with - the weak feeling that was worse than just skipping meals - was so bad he'd rather die than throw up. That didn't stop the gagging though.

"Hannie." Felix sighed, crashing to his knees behind the elder and pulling his hair back from his sweaty forehead. "We talked about this, you've gotta just let it happen."

Han shook his head, refusing to open his mouth knowing words wouldn't be the only thing to come out.

"Han." Chan began, coming over to join the group and patting the younger's back. He could feel the heat radiating off of the younger and could only imagine how terrible he felt. "Hannie, listen to me. You've got something in you that needs to come up. Fighting your body isn't going to make you feel better. You've gotta let it up, yeah?"

"I'm not bulimic." Han rushed out, and in that time that his mouth was opened, he lost the battle and choked up stomach acid. No food came up - there was no food for him to get up. It hurt even more and made his throat, mouth, and just his entire being burn.

"I never said you were." Chan whispered, massaging the back of Han's neck while Minho grabbed toilet paper to wipe his face.

Too much. Too many.

He wasn't sure if it was the fever making everything feel too close and claustrophobic, or if that's just how he felt about things now. But he batted away everyone's arms, trying to explain that there were just too many things happening at once. But he was fairly certain all that came out was incoherent mumbling.

"Hannie, we're trying to help." Felix whispered, crawling back to Han's side and rubbing his hands up and down the elder's arms.

Han jerked, his full body shooting to get away from the touch. He felt terrible. He just wanted to be alone. But he was pretty sure if he was alone, he'd die. He didn't want to die. All the time he fantasized about it, but when it finally became a possibility, he was terrified out of his mind. "Please. Please don't. Please. Lix. Please." He whimpered, pressing his face against the cool toilet seat.

"I'm here." Felix whispered, looking up at Chan like the leader would know what to do.

But in all honesty, he'd never seen Han like this before. How high was his fever? And was it just the fever playing into this or was it a lot of different factors making this illness sudden and strong. Then it clicked. He'd been barely eating. Hardly sleeping properly. Chan had slept with him last night; he saw how he tossed and turned and constantly woke up from dreams he claimed he couldn't remember. At one point he tried to restrain Han from his restlessness, but even that didn't work.

He's malnourished and sleep deprived. His immune system isn't strong enough to fight off anything anymore. He's too stressed and needs to eat and sleep, but how.

"We need to get him back to the dorm." Felix said, still watching the leader.

Chan nodded and bent down, behind Han so he could be closer to the younger's ear. "Hannie, we need to get you home and get some meds in you." The rapper rapidly shook his head, weakly pushing the leader away from him. He felt like he was going to throw up, pass out, and have a complete break down all at once. It wasn't a good feeling and paired with the burning of the skin knitting itself back together on his leg, he felt worse than he could ever remember feeling in his entire life.

"Does he even understand?" Felix whispered, nibbling anxiously on his lip.

Minho looked between the two Aussies before he leaned down to Han, brushing his sweat soaked hair out of his face. "Jisung, we need to go home, okay?"

"No- hyung- I'm gonna..." He shook his head, trying to get the fuzzy, dark feeling to get out. It was like cotton was clogging his brain, muffling out the rest of the world but also impairing his ability to think. Was he dying? He didn't want to die. Now that it came down to it, he really did not want to die.

"Are you going to throw up again?" Minho asked, wiping the sweat off the younger's forehead with another square of toilet paper.

Han shook his head, trying to get his mouth to properly form the words he needed to say. But his brain wasn't even willing to supply the words he needed. All he knew was emotion and feeling and he couldn't convey that to the others. He was terrified though - fear was all he could feel when he felt everything growing darker by the second.

"I'll carry him." Chan offered, hooking his hands under Han's armpits, ignoring the sweat soaking his shirt and clinging to his skin. "Just relax Hannie, I've got you." He warned before standing up.

The world grew incredibly darker, and Han gasped out, not exactly sure what noise came out of his mouth, but everything was getting farther and farther away - like falling asleep - and suddenly he tipped over the edge.

"He's really pale, hyung." Felix said, as soon as Chan stood up.

"Put him back down." Minho added. "He looks like he's going to-" He didn't have to finish before the little support Han provided slipped out and he slumped back against Chan's chest, head rolling back and banging limply against the elder's shoulder.

"Oh my god!" Felix squeaked, reaching out to wrap his arms around Han's torso and help the leader lower their member to the floor. "What happened? He was fine just a few minutes ago, then he started throwing up and-"

"He's too dehydrated." Minho answered, resuming his task of brushing the younger's hair out of his face.

"Minho's right." Chan sighed, tapping lightly on Han's nearly translucent cheek. "And I know he would protest, but I seriously think that we need to take him to a doctor right now."

"He's that bad?" Felix gasped, watching at Han's eyes rolled around beneath his eyelids. He was trying to wake up, but he clearly didn't have the strength to do so.

"Well, not yet I don't think." Chan shrugged, running a hand through his hair and trying to take deep breaths to settle his pounding heart. There was way too much happening today. "But he's not eating, he's not drinking enough, all he's doing is working out and throwing up. He's losing fluids and not replacing them. This happened to Hannah when she was a baby back in Australia. She got sick and wouldn't feed, and when my parents took her to the hospital, they said she was in some type of shock because she was losing fluids. It's like bleeding out, but the fluids aren't blood, and it takes a lot longer, but blood isn't the only liquid the body requires."

"He's trying to lose water weight too, isn't he?" Minho spoke up, his voice weak as he gazed down into Han's seemingly lifeless face. "He should have woken up by now. I'm with Chan hyung, he needs to go to a doctor. Now."

"Then I agree too." Felix nodded firmly. "I'll go get the van and text the managers."

"Felix!" Chan called just as the younger stood up. "Maybe don't notify the managers about this... we may have threatened a lawsuit a few minutes ago and I don't think this is going to help matters at all."

Felix's eyes went wide. "You what?!"

Chapter Text

Han came to on someone's back. There were bright lights all around him and the sound of people talking, but he wasn't really aware of what was happening. All he knew was that he had screwed up and let himself bother the members. He was being a nuisance. They were at practice, right? And then he had to go get sick and... then what? He had been talking to Felix, what happened after that?

"Han Jisung? Can you hear me?" Someone called, lifting his barely opened eyes and poking daggers into them. Well, it was actually just a light, but it felt like a dagger.

"Stop." He whispered, tightening his arms around whoever was holding him. He was pretty sure he was suffocating them but if he let go, he was certain he would fall into the black pit that was slowly swallowing him up. When did he feel so sick? What happened? Where was he?

"I'll lead you to an examination room." Someone said and the light was pulled out of his eyes and the person carrying him moved. He gripped tighter, really hoping he wouldn't fall off, but whoever was holding him held tighter.

Time passed in a blur. He barely remembered what the nurse said to him, the only thing he really did remember was getting an IV and then a doctor arriving. He couldn't really focus on what they were saying, he was busy gripping onto someone's hand - it was a tiny hand. But the words "eating disorder" were pretty obvious to him.

He felt like laughing. He definitely didn't have an eating disorder. He barely lost any weight. He was still fat. He definitely didn't have an eating disorder.

"If you cannot get him to eat, we may have to consider admitting him to the psych ward." Those words got the fog in Han's head to evaporate, and he was wide awake.

The voice in his mind was screaming at him to not let that happen. To get out. They didn't know what was going on. He barely knew what was going on. He tried to rip his hand out of the tiny hand holding his, but they held him tighter, and he didn't have the strength to fight it. What was happening? Why was he so weak? Had he gone too far? Would they know about the cuts on his legs? If the hospital found out, would they let him go?

"Hannie, it's okay." Felix's soothing voice whispered, and Han realized the hand in his belonged to his twin.

"No. No." Han shook his head rapidly. "I don't have an eating disorder."

"Hannie." Felix tried but Minho cut him off.

"He's right." He blurted, attracting all eyes to him. "Hannie is right - he doesn't have an eating disorder. It's not him. It's the company. They forced this really intense diet on him, and he's just been doing what they say. We'll talk to them about it though, I promise. He doesn't have an eating disorder."

Chan raised an eyebrow and shot the second oldest a look that said "I hope you're doing the right thing" before he looked back at the doctor. "Minho's right. I've already been talking to the company about changing his diet."

"Well, that's good then. You need to change it quickly. And we want to get a lot of calories in him before you leave. He can stay for the day and eat every meal we give him, or we can put the calories directly into his stomach."

Han's eyes widened. He couldn't just let them force-feed him. He needed to lose those calories, and being here, there was no way he'd get out of it. What could he say to escape? Would Minho, Chan, and Felix even let him escape? Probably not. They'd make him eat. They were going out on a limb by lying about the company. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't just let their efforts be for nothing, but he was pretty sure if he tried to eat something he'd just break down.

Unless they put it in his stomach directly. Maybe then he could trick himself into thinking it wasn't food. Maybe it wouldn't be such a big deal. Maybe it would be easier to throw up since it was a one and done and then he could leave and find a bathroom. Maybe... maybe he did have an eating disorder.

"We have a packed schedule today." Han spoke up, his voice rough from having thrown up so much earlier.

"I'd suggest going home and resting, Mr. Han." The doctor said, his brow furrowed. "You're running a low-grade fever and you're very weak."

"Yeah, but I'm not talking about me. They have a packed schedule." He nodded to the three other members.

"Are you saying you actually want the feeding tube?" Felix asked, eyes wide.

"If it's faster and gets us out of here sooner." Han shrugged, looking back at the doctor.

"Nope. No. Absolutely not." Chan butted in, crossing his arms as he stepped up to the end of Han's bed. "You're eating the meals; we're not doing the feeding tube. That's not- just no. No, Han."

"Sorry, hyung, but you don't really get a say." Han hated contradicting him, but he'd already made up his mind about his plan. Call him stubborn, but he was determined to go through with his plan no matter what the others said.

Chan opened his mouth to say something, but just stood there frozen like he couldn't find anything to say. He finally stepped back and stared at the ground. "It's your decision." He sighed, sounding completely defeated. Han felt horrible, but that was becoming his new normal. He nodded at the doctor and the man sighed almost just as defeated as the leader and left to grab the supplies.

Maybe if Han knew what a feeding tube involved, he would have preferred the meals. The doctor returned with a nurse and started setting everything up. Han tried to remember to take deep breaths and worked to convince himself that these calories didn't count.

But they do count. No matter what form it's in, these calories count. And it's still early afternoon. It's not my meal hour yet.

He shuddered away from the doctor and nurse, digging his hands into the scratchy fabric of the hospital bed.

Breathe. Just breathe. You have to do this otherwise they'll never believe you. You're still sick. Maybe you can easily throw up after this.

Or maybe I'll throw up during it.

The doctor turned around with a long thing tube in his gloved hands and started rubbing lubrication over the majority of it. Han had wanted to run away from situations before - but he never wanted to escape something quite as badly as he did right now. Forget the calories they were forcing into him at the wrong time, this tube was going to be shoved down his throat.

I don't want this. I don't want this. I DON'T WANT THIS!

He scooted to the far end of the bed like that could get him away from the situation. He had long since ripped his hand out of Felix's to clutch the thin sheet like a lifeline. How had he gotten to this point? He could still feel the low-grade fever burning his insides and making him squirm uncomfortably. Or maybe the squirming was from the idea of having to get that tube down his throat and into his stomach.

He was sure that whatever was measuring his heartrate was currently showing the rest of the room the terror he felt because someone stepped up behind him and let him lean back against them. He recognized the broad chest to be Chan's. It would be a comfort if it didn't prevent his only means of escape. The leader placed steady hands on his shoulders and squeezed gently.

He let Chan hold him as the nurse came around and carefully placed a hand on the top of his head. "Bring your chin to your chest, sweetheart." She instructed and guided his head down into the position. A cup with a straw was brought up to his lips, but just far enough away that he got the memo to not drink yet.

The doctor finished gelling up the tube and then started pressing some button on the machine it was attached to. Han tensed against Chan, gnawing his bottom lip as he felt the panic creep up his back like a spider.

His eyes flitted around the room then landed on Minho and Felix in the corner, both staring at him, heartbroken. Han squeezed his eyes tightly shut. "Make them leave." He mumbled. They shouldn't have to see him like this. No one should be seeing him like this. He didn't want to see himself like this. But especially not Felix and Minho. He didn't even want Chan to be here, but he wasn't sure he could do this alone. "Hyung. Channie hyung, please make them leave."

Chan squeezed his shoulders gently then turned to the two other members. "Do you want to call Changbin and give him an update on what's happening?" It wasn't a suggestion; it was a demand phrased as something more innocent. But Minho and Felix seemed to pick up the hint.

"Let's get ice cream after this, Hannie." Felix called as he left the room with Minho.

Han couldn't help the whimper that escaped him. More calories were the last thing he needed right now. But he couldn't even think about calories when the doctor came around with the tube.

"Alright, when I put this in your nose, and when I tell you to swallow, I want you to swallow on repeat until I say stop. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

The nurse guided Han's head back down and pressed the straw to his lips. As much as he wanted to keep his mouth firmly shut, he knew if he wanted to leave, this was the price he had to pay. He parted his lips, and the straw was slipped into his mouth. The gelled tube rested against his nose, and he squeezed his eyes shut again and hoped it would all be over soon.

Chan held him tightly against himself, rhythmically squeezing and releasing the younger's shoulders the way he would with his chest during severe panic attacks. Han melted into the touch, several times of learning to relax from that pattern making his body relax on its own.

"Alright, now on the count of three, I want to you take sips of the water and swallow on repeat. Ready?"

Absolutely not, but did Han have a choice? He could feel how close everyone was to him and he felt claustrophobic, the sooner he was done with this, the better everything would be. This was it. This was rock bottom. He was sure of it.

"Alright. One. Two. Three."

Han sipped the water and swallowed just as the doctor slipped the tube up his nose.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Absolutely not. Han's body shuddered with the foreign feeling of something being shoved up his nose and then turned and pushed down his throat. It burned despite the lubrication coating the tube. He'd rather die than finish going through with this. Not only was it humiliating, but it was definitely one of the most uncomfortable feelings. So, despite having his eyes squeezed tightly shut, tears leaked past and ran down his cheeks freely, since no one had a free hand to wipe it up. This was worse than anything he'd done before.

"Keep swallowing." The doctor suggested, but Han already was. The doctor was just freely shoving a tube down his throat. He gagged a few times, unable to stop himself, and panicked that the tube would just be thrown up and they'd have to do this all over again. He couldn't do this again. He'd just wanted to lose a few calories. Had he known from the beginning this is where he'd end up, he'd just put up with being fat forever.

"You're doing good, Ji, just a little more. Hang on." Chan whispered, his voice uncharacteristically weak. Han knew he didn't know what to say in this situation. He wouldn't know what to say either. Jisung felt terrible. He was constantly putting his leader into places no one should be. Just last night he was cleaning up his blood from wounds he'd inflicted upon himself. What was he doing? How did he get here? More importantly, how does he get out of here?

They checked to make sure the tube was fully in his stomach before they started pumping the nutrients into him. Han just laid there, staring at the ceiling as he tried to figure out how he got here. Wasn't he okay? When would he say he was last okay? December? No. This had been a long time coming hadn't it. The magma had been bubbling beneath the surface for years, it just got too hot and the time for the volcano to erupt just so happened to be in December. Maybe it was inevitable. Maybe no matter what - maybe even if he was skinny, maybe even if he was handsome - this still would have happened. Did this even have to do with his weight or was there something else that started all of this?

Jisung's eyes turned over to where Chan was standing in the corner, staring at the floor with a heartbroken expression on his face. Han could only watch him stand there and suffer. There was nothing he could do to comfort him. He was trapped in a body he hated, making others suffers because he was.

Han whimpered, unable to contain it. Chan's eyes snapped up to him and he hurried across the room and leaned over the young rapper though he didn't touch him, like any little movement might cause him to break. "Are you okay, Ji? Does it hurt?"

Everything hurt now, but how was he supposed to explain that to his leader? His friend. His brother. Han could only stare into his eyes and hope that he understood the message. The deep, genuine regret and sorrow that he felt. He wanted to tell him. Tell him that he never intended for any of this to happen. He didn't want to be like this. He just wanted to be pretty like the rest of them. He wanted to fit in with them. He wanted to be skinny like they were. He wanted to sing like them. He just wanted to be like them.

Maybe that was what it was about all along. It was never about weight. It was never about looking attractive. It was never even about performing. It was about them. And the fact that I don't fit with them.

'Like aliens trying to blend with Earthlings'.

Did his past-self predict something when he wrote that song? Was there divine providence acting on him in those moments he wrote those lyrics late at night? Maybe the song was never for Stay to feel like they could fit in with them. Maybe, without realizing it, Han had written it for himself. Written it for now. For this exact moment he wrote that song.

He reached out and grabbed Chan's hand. It was warm in his much colder hand, and he relished the feeling of the familiar callouses. He wanted Felix and Minho back. Why had he sent them away? He needed them. He needed all of them. He was so lonely. Sure, he wasn't alone, but he was lonely, and he was beginning to realize there was a difference. He wanted his members - His brothers - by his side. He couldn't do this anymore. He just couldn't.

Tears sprung into his eyes, and he squeezed the eldest's hand tighter and curled into himself.

"I'm right here, Jisung." Chan whispered, combing fingers through the younger's sweat-soaked hair. "I don't know what you're thinking, but I'm here. I'm right here, Jisung."

The tears dripped down his cheeks and he took the hand he was holding and pressed it to his cheek, cuddling up with the leader's arm. He felt the hot tears drip onto the Aussie's arm and soak into his sweatshirt, but he couldn't care anymore. All he needed was for Chan to be there. And he was. He was there. It was perfect. In the worst way possible, it was perfect. He could lie there forever with Chan and believe for a moment that it really was okay. He wasn't being forcibly pumped with nutrients. He wasn't sick. He wasn't suffering in more than just a physical sense. He was safe. Even if just for a second. If only time could stop, and he could stay in that moment for eternity.

Despite Chan having texted Changbin to keep the members at the company, he, Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jeongin decided that it was time to rebel for the sake of the greater good and went over to the Hyunjin plus 3Racha dorm. Cleaning, cooking, baking (though all of that was more difficult when Minho wasn't there to instruct them because somehow, he was the embodiment of Cinderella). Eventually Seungmin plopped down onto the couch beside Jeongin who was staring off into space with a disinfectant wipe in his hand. He'd clearly been cleaning the coffee table since the lyric notebooks that were always set there were placed on the ground, but he was completely zoned out.

"Innie." Seungmin smiled, waving his hand in front of the youngest's face. "Earth to Innie. Are you in there?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, sorry. I got distracted." He managed a quick smile, but Seungmin wasn't an idiot.

"What's wrong, Iyen? You look like your brain is on overdrive."

"It kind of is. Not a big deal though. Gotta finish cleaning." The maknae leaned back over the coffee table and wiped the surface a few more times though it was clearly just mindless swiping - his mind was still far away to who-knows-where.

"Okay." Seungmin shrugged, but he stayed seated on the couch and watched the youngest get lost in his own world. It was maybe a full minute before the older vocalist decided to say something. "Poor Hannie is having it pretty rough right now."

"I can't believe they had to take him to the hospital." Jeongin blurted, sitting back on the couch and throwing the towelette on the coffee table. "He's worse than we thought. I thought it was just his anxiety coming back but I heard Changbin hyung talking with Hyunjin and they were talking about self-harm. I know he's starving but what if he's doing more. What if we can't help him? I mean, he's going to therapy, so that's a good start. But there was a girl in my high school whose dad committed suicide, but he was going to therapy, and she said that the week before he did it, he was being super nice and acting like nothing was wrong. What if that's Hannie hyung? He still acts happy most of the time. What if he's going to kill himself?"

"Wow." Seungmin stared at the maknae. "I knew something was going on in your head, but I did not think it would be all that."

"How can I not think that? We hardly know what's going on." Jeongin bowed his head.

"How about, when Hannie gets back, you call dibs on sitting next to him? I'll fight the others off. I bet I could take Felix in a fight. Maybe Minho hyung. Probably not Changbin hyung, but I'll try."

"Thanks, hyung." He managed a smile up at the elder, and this one seemed much more genuine. That was until Hyunjin came running into the living room, holding up his phone to an open text message from one Australian leader.

"Jisung was just discharged. They'll be here in fifteen minutes."

Jeongin gulped loudly and Seungmin wrapped an arm over his shoulder, giving Hyunjin a thumbs up as he quietly whispered to the maknae, "It's okay to be okay, Innie-ah. I promise."

Jeongin really hoped it was true.

Chapter Text

Han stared at the four members in front of him, gulping at the number of eyes on him. Could they know what had happened just by looking at him? Did they hate him for it? How could they not hate him for it - he hated himself for it. He wanted it to be over. He just wanted to feel normal. He wanted to look at his members and not wonder how much they hate him.

"Hey, hyung." Jeongin spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically weak like he was holding back tears.

"Hi Innie." He answered, trying to smile at the maknae. But the expression was too hard, and his lip wobbled. "I'm going to go to bed... goodnight." Forget the fact that it was just past lunchtime, it was afternoon at least, close enough to bedtime. He didn't care anymore. He just couldn't do this anymore. His legs were wobbling, his head was spinning with the screaming of a million voices plaguing him, and he just couldn't stand the way his skin burned with their eyes on him.

He dragged his feet down the hallway to his room and kicked the door closed. Without even turning on the light he just laid on his bed and curled up into himself. Maybe now he could just cry himself a sea and drown in it. Anything to escape what had become reality for him.

The door opened all too soon and as much as Han loved his members, he just couldn't hold it together any longer. "Channie hyung, I'm sorry, but I don't want to talk right now."

The door closed and the light remained off. "I'm not here to talk." And that was not Chan. Han rolled over, peering over his shoulder to find Minho standing in the doorway, his phone in his hand and a cup with a straw sticking out the top. He set the cup on the nightstand between Jeongin and Han's bed and stood back to give Jisung space.

Curious, he pushed himself onto his elbows and studied the cup. "What is it?" He asked when he realized it wasn't water.

"It's apple juice. Your mom said you liked it a lot as a kid." Minho answered, casually.

"My mom?" He raised an eyebrow at the elder who nodded once.

"She texted me." Jisung wanted to ask why and what she said, but he realized he probably didn't need to ask what it was. She was a mom - and a good mom at that - and good moms always knew instinctually what was going on. Of course she would text Minho to take care of her baby. Even though Jisung was 23, his mom refused to believe he was older than 3, and despite denying it, he actually kind of loved it.

Overwhelmed by the affection, he reached for the cup and took a sip, only realizing after he swallowed that apple juice has calories and he'd gain water weight. He glared at the cup, but that only brought tears to his eyes. He hated something that was so innocent because he wasn't. He was a monster, so of course he'd hate something that was good. But that sip of the cool drink, bringing him back to his childhood, made the ache in his throat from the tube fade, but more importantly, the ache always present in his chest ebbed away. He reached out with a shaky hand and took another tiny sip of the combined efforts of two people he loved more than anything.

After that second sip though he rolled back over, too tired to listen to the voice in his head screaming at him anymore. As promised, Minho didn't say anything, he didn't even get close to Jisung. He just sat on Jeongin's bed and seemed to scroll through his phone. His eyes darted across the screen almost as if he were reading though.

Curiosity got the better of him again and he lifted his head. "What are you doing, hyung?"

"On my phone?" Minho clarified. "I'm just reading."

There was a long pause before Han tentatively spoke up again. "What are you reading?"

"A story." Minho answered, eyes still locked to the screen.

"What's it about?" Han asked, glancing back at the apple juice and feeling a punch to the gut as the voice screamed that he didn't need the calories. He needed a distraction, that's what he needed.

Minho provided. "It's about a dog."

"Really? I thought you were a cat person."

"I am."

Han sighed, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at the juice he wanted so badly. But his mind wandered back to it, and he clenched his jaw, straining to forget. "So, what makes this dog so special that you'd read about it?"

"Want me to read it to you?"

Han hesitated, thinking through his options. He could yearn for the apple juice, or he could listen to a story and yearn for the apple juice. Well, those were some great options. He decided on the latter - at least then he'd have something else to occupy his time other than yearning for more calories. "Sure."

Minho scrolled up on his phone, searching for the beginning of the story before he landed on what must have been the start and settled into the pillows on Jeongin's bed, clearing his throat. "Once upon a time..."

"Is that seriously how it starts? Are you reading a children's book?"

"I'm just messing with you, Hannie. But yes, it is a children's book."

Han was about to argue and question why Minho was reading a children's book, but he realized that he didn't actually have the mental capacity to listen to a full story. Maybe a children's book wasn't such a bad idea. "Continue."

"Thank you." Minho smirked, just the barest hint of a smile tugging on his lips. "I had a black dog. Whenever my black dog came home, he'd always sit on my lap and weigh me down - with him, I always felt weak and alone. He'd show up at my door, surprising me with a visit. And I never knew if or when he'd leave me again."

"Is this supposed to rhyme? This story sounds stupid, hyung."

"You wanted me to read it aloud!" Minho exclaimed, almost offended if he didn't sound so amused.

"Yeah, whatever. I just hope it gets better. Does this dog fight ninjas or something?"

"Can I continue or not?"

Han rolled his finger in a go-on gesture and Minho nodded. "My black dog was needy and consumed all my time. While people were out playing, I was with him day and night. The things I did for fun I no longer enjoyed, he wouldn't let me sleep, or eat, or feel any kind of joy."

"Stupid dog."

"Hannie..."

"I didn't say stop."

Minho rolled his eyes. "Black dogs weren't fun, no one likes them around. So, I hid mine from view, never to be found."

"So would I if I had such an annoying dog."

"But he was eager to run and be wild and free. So, holding him back made me feel miserably. I was tired, lonely, hopeless and sad, but if anyone else mentioned him, I suddenly felt mad."

Han blinked once. Twice. Then glanced up at Minho who was eyeing him, probably expecting a remark. He didn't have anything so say. "Go on." He mumbled, turning to gaze up at the apple juice longingly.

"As the days went by, the black dog got bigger, maybe because I kept giving him my dinner. He weighed me down, kept me a home, I began to realize that I spent all my time alone. I hated the dog, he made me very sad, but that the big black dog was the only companion I had."

Han found himself nodding, despite the fact that he didn't own a big black dog, but he was pretty sure he didn't need to own a dog to understand the story. He was beginning to understand it wasn't about a big black dog after all.

Minho had paused but soon continued when he realized Han wasn't going to add anymore to the story. "An old friend came by, bringing me pie. But when he saw my black dog, I tried to cover him with a lie. But my friend saw through and acknowledged the dog, said he had one too, it was nothing to be ashamed of. He brought me to the place where he takes his pet, I thought it would be, but it wasn't the vet. I met a nice doctor who had lots of tips, she wrote them all out for me on a pamphlet. I read through them all, checked each box one by one, she said that she'd like to meet my black dog." Minho paused and glanced over. "Want me to continue?"

"Why would you stop?"

Minho shrugged. "I don't know. You got quiet."

Han shrugged back. "Keep going."

The elder nodded. "My dog didn't want to come and meet her. But I forced him to go after many tears and screamed words. We didn't say much, I don't like showing him off, he doesn't like to be seen, doesn't want to bring a crowd. But the doctor was nice and had me do one thing, pet him on his head and tell him I see him. It felt weird at first but slowly I learned what made him happy and what made him groan." Minho stopped abruptly. "What are you doing?"

"I just got cold." Han answered, crawling onto Jeongin's bed beside Minho and looking up at him with big sparkling eyes. Minho recognized that look. It was the look he had on his face at their first concert when he first saw all the fans. The look on his face when Changbin had hugged him the first time. It was love. His heart warmed and he scooted down to be lying flatter on the bed and wrapped an arm around Han, pulling him closer so he could rest his cheek on his chest.

"Now my dog comes and now my dog goes, but seeing the doctor made the visits quicker. I had lots of friends who helped me throw frisbees, I had to time to be with them while he was off being busy. He comes back a lot, I think he likes me, but now I know the signs so it's not surprising. My black dog is big and scary to me, but lots of people have black dogs and I realized it's not lonely. One day my black dog might never return, when that day comes, I'll still keep in mind what I've learned. Because a friend with a black dog helped me out, he's my savior. So maybe one day I can return the favor. Yes, I have a black dog, I'm his only obsession, but I now know his name and he goes by Depression." Minho turned his phone off and glanced down at Han whose eyes were trained on the far wall, staring at nothing. There was no emotion on his face, it was completely blank and if Minho couldn't hear the soft breaths and the pounding of his heart, he might have thought he suddenly died. "Hannie? Are you okay?"

There was silence. Then. "I want another sip of the apple juice."

Chapter Text

Jisung was fully prepared to let that black dog story be his testimony. He was ready for it to beat away all his shame. For it to suddenly scare away his own black dog. He was ready to make a full recovery. But that kind of thought process lasted until they tried to get him to eat dinner.

"Come on, Sung-ah, you can't hide in the bathroom forever." Changbin whispered against the door, knocking lightly on the wood for probably the thousandth time.

"I'm good thanks." Han called back over the sound of running water. Changbin was pretty sure he had both the sink and the shower on, but he had a sinking suspicion neither were being used.

"Baby, please come out." He tried in English since Korean was clearly failing.

"No thanks." Jisung answered in English. Okay, so that was the same result.

"How's he doing?" Changbin spun around to find Chan heading towards him. His arms were wrapped around himself, his eyebags far more visible than usual - his entire appearance just screamed exhaustion.

"I don't know." Changbin answered. "I came in to tell him and Minho hyung that we had some food and then he just stood up and locked himself in here."

Chan sighed, drumming his fingers on the door. "Jisung, it's Channie, can I come in please?"

Silence for several seconds then, "No thanks."

"Jisung, I'm worried, can I please come in?" Chan pushed, pressing his ear to the door.

"I don't feel good. Please go away."

"That's why I want to come in, aegi. I'm worried you're still sick and you're gonna pass out again. We won't make you eat if you come out. We just want to see your pretty face. Please?"

"You're lying."

Chan stepped back, brow furrowed. "I'm not lying, Hannie." He didn't know what he was even being convicted off, but Han sounded deeply offended. He glanced over at Changbin who was glaring at the door like he could make it combust with just his eyes. "Hannie? Aegi, what makes you think I'm lying?"

"I'm not hungry. I don't feel good." He backtracked. Chan sighed, letting his forehead rest on the cool wood of the door. They were getting nowhere right now. They were very clearly struggling. Minho had done a good job earlier getting Han to drink something, but he didn't exactly want to rely on Minho for that every time. Han would eventually start associating Minho with food - and food, to him, was bad. Currently, Minho was a source of comfort. Chan didn't want to physiologically change that for Han. But they were kind of at a loss.

"Jisung, if I got Minho would you let him sit with you?" He tried, mumbling "please" on repeat below his breath.

"I want to be alone, hyung, please." Han answered.

"Hannie, I'm really sorry, but I don't think that's the best idea for you right now. I know you want some space, but..."

"I want Jeongin."

"Huh?"

"I want to talk to Jeongin."

Chan and Changbin stared at each other, eyes wide. "Okay." They answered in unison. "I'll go grab him, be right back, Hannie." Chan spun around, jogging down the hallway to the living room.

In all honesty, Han didn't want anyone - including the maknae - there with him. He felt sick. His throat still hurt from the feeding tube, and he felt too hot and too cold at the same time. He really didn't feel great. But he knew they wouldn't leave him alone to suffer in peace. So, he had to pick the least offensive person right now. The person who didn't know anything. Jeongin definitely didn't know as much as Minho, Chan, Changbin, or Hyunjin. He knew less than Felix as well. And he didn't exactly know where Seungmin fell on the spectrum - he hoped he didn't know as much as the others. It seemed his personal life was becoming less and less personal.

There was a knock on the door, interrupting Han's thoughts, and he carefully unlocked it, peeking out to find Jeongin standing there. "Hi hyung, you wanted me?"

"Yeah, I- I want to watch a movie."

"Oh." Jeongin blinked a few times before nodding. "Of course. I love movies."

"Good. You pick." Han reached over and turned the shower and the sink off before following Jeongin out then taking over and guiding the maknae to his room. He turned his laptop on and handed it to the vocalist as he adjusted the pillows.

"What kind of movie do you want to watch, hyung?" Jeongin asked, fingers hovering over the keys.

"I don't know. I don't really want to think so something that doesn't require much thought, I guess."

"Got it." Jeongin nodded, typing rapidly. They ended up picking Home Alone - it was still January so they could get away with Christmas movies. Jeongin leaned over, prepared to cuddle Jisung like the elder always loved, but the rapper shied away, leaning as far from the maknae as possible.

Jeongin didn't like cuddling much, but he'd never been rejected before. He found himself distracted the entire movie, side eyeing Han who was anxiously nibbling his nails. He hadn't seen Han do that since pre-debut, back when he used to get in fights with Hyunjin, before he was even diagnosed with anxiety. That made Jeongin worried. Beyond worried. He waited until the exact moment Han fell asleep to quickly - but carefully - get up and hurry to the living room.

Most of the members had left. Felix and Seungmin must have gone back to their dorm. Hyunjin's door was closed and Changbin was nowhere to be found - gym, maybe? - but Minho and Chan were on the couch. Jeongin didn't usually find those two alone. They rarely got the chance. He felt like he was invading.

Chan was lying on the couch, phone in his hand, but Minho was sitting at the end, the elder's legs strewn across his lap. It was in these rare moments that Jeongin saw how Minho really loved physical touch. He put on a front for cameras and even for the other members. But with just him and Chan, the maknae saw the truth. He felt bad clearing his throat to announce his presence. "Hyung." He called out.

Chan sat up and Minho spun around, throwing Chan's legs off of him like he'd been caught doing something illegal. "What's wrong?" They asked in unison.

"I- what's going on with Han hyung?"

"What do you mean?" Minho asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He's... he's anxious. I haven't seen him that anxious since when we were trainees. He's nibbling his nails again. He won't even let me touch him. But he's not having a- a panic attack or anything. He's just... I don't know. What's going on?"

"Oh, my aegi, come here." Chan sat up fully and patted the cushion between him and Minho. Jeongin obeyed and took the seat, crossing his legs and wrapping his arms around himself. Chan leaned in closer, draping an arm over the younger's shoulders in a side hug while Minho opted for a more modest hand on the knee. "Innie, you know that Han has general anxiety disorder, yeah?"

"Yeah, but I thought he was better. But now-"

"He relapsed." Chan answered, exhaling heavily after speaking like those two words held too much weight.

"Yeah, but, how?"

"We don't know." Chan admitted, looking up to try to meet Jeongin's eyes. The maknae didn't want to. He stared at Minho's hand on his knee, rubbing his thumb along the inseam of his sweatpants. In these moments, he felt like that little 17-year-old who had no idea what was in store for him after debut. Chan continued despite Jeongin not meeting his gaze. "He's struggling with some eating disorders as well as his anxiety. He's having a tough time, so we just have to be extra careful with him right now, yeah? He's really anxious about it all."

"But... he won't let me touch him. When he's anxious, he always likes hugs." Jeongin noted, meeting Chan's eyes. He saw the sorrow in the leader's gaze, and quickly looked away at Minho's hand again.

"Usually yes. But things are a little different right now, Innie." Chan said, squeezing the maknae tighter to his side.

"He's really insecure about his body." Minho added, his voice sounding foreign in the way it was so soft and unsure. "He doesn't like us feeling him. I think that's why he's been pulling away from physical touch."

"He thinks he's fat... like that dietician told me. Did the dietician tell him that too? Was it her fault that he's so anxious? Or... or was it me? Did I accidently put the thought in his head? Oh god, no, was it me?"

"No." Chan shook his head firmly.

"But how do you know? What if it was?"

"It wasn't. I know it wasn't you, Jeongin."

The maknae's eyes rapidly filled with tears he didn't even realize were there. He choked on his breath and shuddered. Immediately Chan's other around wrapped around him, hiding him against his chest. Safe - exactly how Jeongin knew he'd feel. "Oh, my baby." He cooed in his thick accent, which somehow was the tipping point for Jeongin as tears started pouring down his cheeks, immediately soaking in Chan's hoodie. "Innie, you need to understand that this wasn't you. It wasn't any of us. Whatever triggered this relapse was something small that built up. It was not you. Do you understand that, aegi?"

"But-"

"Nope. No. Jeongin, it wasn't you." Minho corrected.

"I want him to be okay." Jeongin cried, wrapping his arms around Chan tightly. "I'm scared."

"I know, baby, I know." Chan cooed, rocking the maknae back and forth in his arms. "Would sleeping in Hannie's room make you feel better? You could ask him if that's okay. Then you can watch him and see that he's okay."

"He's already asleep." Jeongin cried, sniffling.

"Yeah? Then let's go tuck you in next to him, does that sound okay?"

"Just- I just- need..."

"Take your time, aegi." Chan whispered, rocking his maknae back and forth.

Jeongin just cried into the leader's chest, sniffling every other second. He barely knew what was going on. He just knew that he was scared. Scared of what - even that he didn't know. It was just the intense feeling that something was a lot more... wrong... than the others were letting on. Sure, he knew Han was anxious, he knew he wasn't eating, but there was something deeper. Something they were hiding. He wasn't even sure he wanted to know what it was, terrified of what could be so big and bad hiding just under the surface. If he knew, would he even be able to sleep at night or would he end up like Chan with deep eyebags and dependent on coffee for the past several days.

"Here." He was pulled from Chan's chest and found Minho offering him a couple tissues. He took them gratefully and tried to dry his tears and blow his nose. It seemed that he couldn't get the stream to entirely stopped but it was deemed good enough and Chan walked him to Han's room where the credits were rolling for Home Alone and Han slept on, curled up into a tight ball still on the far corner of his bed.

Jeongin laid down opposite him, careful to avoid getting anywhere near him. Chan helped him untuck the blankets from the bed and pull them up over him. He turned Jisung's laptop off and put it away on its charger before coming back to kneel beside Jeongin. "Hey, Innie, I want you to know that you don't need to be scared right now, yeah? We've got everything under control and it's all gonna be okay, yeah? You trust us, right?"

"Yes."

"And I want to remind you, Innie, that Hannie asked for you tonight. Not any of the rest of us. You weren't the cause of any of this. It is not your fault." He said each word carefully, letting each syllable soak into the maknae before he kissed his forehead and stalked away to the hallway - though he left the door open, probably so that if something happened, Jeongin or Han could be heard.

The maknae watched Han's steady breathing across from him. He reached his hand out halfway. "In case you do want someone, hyung." He whispered, though Han was sound asleep. Jeongin wasn't sure when he joined him in dreamland, but when he woke up his hand was warm - slightly sweaty - and... occupied. He blinked open his eyes and focused through blurry vision to find Han's hand in his, holding tightly even in his sleep. Jeongin glanced at the clock - 5:03am. He had another few hours left of sleep. Content, with a smile on his face, he fell asleep again holding Han's hand, unwilling to ever let it go.

Chapter Text

"You really don't need to go, Hannie. I actually would prefer you stay home with someone." Chan pressed, while filling the members' water bottles the next morning. "You still have a low-grade fever; you don't have the energy to go dance; you should be resting."

Absolutely not. He wasn't staying back. He wasn't that sick. Besides, he'd drank apple juice for breakfast and kind of wanted to try to go burn off those calories. Even if he couldn't "dance" he could walk up and down the stairs a couple times. That wouldn't hurt. "I'm going, hyung. Please. I need to go."

Chan sighed, turning off the tap and lowering his head. Han knew he would say no. He'd pull the leader card, he'd put his foot down on this matter. Han would be stuck at home - and even worse, stuck in his head. He couldn't do that. He couldn't sit with his thoughts all day.

"I'll be with him all day, hyung." Jeongin offered from his seat at the table, finishing his breakfast. "We can hang out and do stuff. It'll be fun! I'll make sure he doesn't get sick." Now it was Han's turn to sigh. If only Jeongin knew the reality of it. Though he didn't want the maknae to know. No one should know. He'd prefer Jeongin was left out of it entirely - he was a safe place right now. But even he was starting to understand. Han hated it. Hated himself. Hated his life. Everything. He hated everything.

"No dancing. Or working out. You're still sick, Jisung-ah." Chan finalized. But it wasn't a no. Han's shoulders sagged in relief. At least he'd get to act normal. Maybe the company would think he's fine. Maybe everything would be fine. Maybe he could scare away his big black dog. Probably not, but maybe.

"You sure, Chan hyung?" Changbin asked, raising an eyebrow. "If he's got a fever..."

"I'm fine!" Han snapped, anger flashing through him at the chance of being shot down again. "I'm fine, hyung. Just let me live my life."

Changbin bit his lip, eyes focused on Han like he was trying to see through him.

You're fat. He's looking at you, judging you. He thinks you're a monster. You're sick and twisted. He sees it. He knows it. You can't escape.

"I'm going to, uh, grab my bag." The anger dissolved into a sad sort of slumped posture, and he bowed his head.

"We leave in five." Chan said, his voice monotone. Maybe he was regretting his decision to let Jisung come. Jisung was. Somewhat. He wasn't sure how he felt. In one sense he wanted to go and try to live and try to move on and forget. And the other part of him wanted to lie in bed until he rotted into the blankets. Until his body was nothing but a skeleton - mirroring what was inside. The discomfort of denying one and accepting the other set a steady wave of nausea in his stomach that he knew wouldn't go away no matter what he did. Leaving or staying. It didn't make a difference anymore, everything made him feel awful.

The day actually wasn't so bad. Han just sat in Chan's studio and worked on lyrics. He was kind of stumbling through things for a while though, so he ended up just scribbling down thoughts. Three pages full of random lines, phrases, poems, and then suddenly something looked right.

The faith that was said to last an eternity. The cracks are misaligned, and I have a dangerous feeling that if I touch them, they will break. My tears increased, as my sleep decreased.

He paused, staring at the words. Something more nagged in the back of his mind. He brought his pen back to the page, letting his thoughts seep through without filtering them.

Mistakes fostered by clumsy emotions. The feeling of love leaves behind a bitter resentment. Is there no pretty happy ending?

Was he on to something here? Sure, he couldn't write a song about how he was feeling - JYPE would never allow that to be released even with the statement they put out about him. But maybe he could twist the meaning a little and make it seem like it was about romance. Yeah, then he could release it. Was it good enough to be released though? For now, it was only words on a page in messy, splotchy ink. But maybe it could change. No, not change - it would grow. More could be added to it. It could progress from barely strung together sentences to a melody flowing from not only his lips, but one of the other members' in a song that millions would listen to. But it didn't need to be for the millions. Maybe it could be for one person out there - maybe they live in an entirely different country like Australia or Germany or Canda.

He didn't need to resonate with a million people. He could connect with one who would see beyond the romantic facade and understand the lyrics the way they were written. That would be enough.

He bit the button on his pen as his eyes glazed over the words again. Loosely, he scribbled the word "twilight" at the top of the page. The transition between day and night. The transition between messy words to a song. The transition between wanting to die and hoping for another day to live. But sometimes it was hard to see the transition. Sometimes it blended together like the blue of the sky and the gold of the sun. Sometimes it looked like twilight.

There was a knock on the door and Han glanced up, to try to gauge the figure through the foggy glass. "Come in." He called out.

Changbin stepped in, a bucket hat on his head and a cozy looking sweatshirt tied over his black t-shirt. "Hey, Sung, how are you feeling?"

"Um, actually, okay right now." Han glanced down at his notebook then back at Changbin. "I had an idea if you want to hear it." Somehow, the prospect of writing a new song was thrilling and it felt like - for the first time in weeks - he was genuinely excited about something that was relatively healthy for him.

"Ooo, can I hear it?" The elder sat down in Chan's chair and spun it around, throwing his bag down on the floor.

Han hugged his notebook to his chest. "No. Not yet. It's a secret. A surprise. But- okay, okay I'll tell you the title! It's called Twilight. I think that's what I'll call it at least. I can't think of another name for it, but maybe it'll change once I actually start writing it. I don't know. It can change. It can do whatever. I'm not gonna hold the song down to one thing. I'm gonna let it run wild and see what I get."

"Twilight. I like that, Sung-ah." Changbin leaned back in the chair. "I actually had an idea while I was at the gym - that's why I came up here. I wanted to run it by you first, maybe we could make it together."

Han smiled. "I'd like that, hyung."

The day was going well until Han was trying to leave the company. He was going to ride with Minho, Felix, Jeongin, and Seungmin and head to their dorm with them for the evening since Chan and Changbin were going to the gym and Hyunjin was catching a flight for a Versace event.

Seungmin and Felix were talking about their dance practice, Jeongin adding in a few comments. Han felt bad he'd missed out, but it wasn't so bad when Minho slipped his hand into his and squeezed it. Hands were safe - holding hands was very different than a hug. They couldn't feel the fat on his body this way. It was nice. He was having a good day compared to yesterday.

Until someone called down the hallway after them. They froze and spun around, the maknae line giving the man approaching a confused look while Minho narrowed his eyes.

"Hi, sorry to catch you when you're just leaving for the day but I'm part of the legal team and I'd like to discuss the lawsuit."

"What lawsuit?" Seungmin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't know there was a lawsuit." Jeongin whispered, looking over at Felix like he'd know. Felix set his jaw, having remembered Chan and Minho mentioning it yesterday.

"I would just like to know if I should find you a lawyer, Han-ah." The man said, looking Jisung right in the eyes.

Han froze, wetting his lips. "I- I don't know what you're talking about. I'm sorry."

"The lawsuit that-"

"Thank you but we're not interested right now." Minho hissed, his tone something Han hadn't heard him use with anyone in a very long time. "Let's head out to the car, boys. Come on." He tightened his grip on Han's hand and spun him around, forcing him to walk out of the company building.

The elephant in the room - or the car since that's technically where they were - was sitting heavily on the maknae-line. Han fiddled with the drawstring on his sweatshirt, his eyes flickering around the car. Was he part of a lawsuit? What had he done wrong? Was this because of that post they made for him? Was it because of his anxiety? He wasn't even properly diagnosed for his relapse. Was this legal? Well, that man said he was from the legal team so it had to be. Oh, that's a terrifying thought. What did he do wrong? This was too big. It had gotten out of hand. He was certain that he'd been in control. When did it change?

"Hyung?" Jeongin's sweet voice whispered beside him, his hand reaching out to squeeze Han's thigh. The rapper jerked out of his reach, hands out in defense.

"Sorry, I just, hyung just needs space right now, Innie. It's not you."

"Oh." Jeongin nodded sadly. "I get it."

"It's not you." Han repeated.

"I know. It's okay."

Han hated himself and the burn in his thigh, begging for justice from a razor he broke made his eyes well up with tears. He hated himself even more. And today had been a good day...

He didn't say a word as he got out of the car and headed inside, something playing heavily on his mind and making his entire body feel stuck in mud. He'd intended on trying to have a good night and just hang out with the rest of the maknae line until about 10pm then head back to his dorm and go to sleep. But now he wasn't sure he could get to 10. He wasn't even sure he could just up the stairs into their apartment. Suddenly, the task just felt too big.

He wasn't sure how he did it, but he managed to get up into their dorm, flopping heavily on the couch. He just wanted privacy to process everything. What there was to process, he didn't know. He didn't even know what was going on. What was that lawsuit about? Did he really screw up that badly? What was Chan going to think? Was he going to get kicked out? Was the company going to come up with another staged post to make him seem like some poor, innocent, victim who needed all the fans' love, attention, and money? He wasn't a pity-case. He didn't want sympathy. He wanted to feel better. And being treated like he was sick made it worse. Though being treated like he was fine made him feel like an imposter. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, finger hovering over Minho's contact. Sure, the elder was right across the room, but so were the rest of the members.

Finally, in a fit of bravery or stupidity, Han texted the dancer.

'Can we talk? Alone.'

He quickly added 'please'.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Minho pulled his phone out of his coat's pocket as he was taking the article off to hang on the wall. He didn't glance at Han - which the younger was thankful for the privacy. Minho seemed to understand the desire for personal space well. His fingers flew over his phone screen and Han glanced down at his phone, watching the 3 dots pop up on Minho's side of the screen. Then his reply.

'Cook dinner. Meet in kitchen.'

"Hey." Minho pocketed his phone in his jeans now. "How about you boys go play video games or something that melts your brains. I'll call you when dinner is ready."

Felix smiled. "Okay! Jisungie, wanna come with?"

Han shrugged. "Maybe in a minute."

"Okay. Join whenever you're ready." Seungmin replied, walking with Felix to the Aussie's bedroom. Jeongin lingered a moment, nibbling his lip. He looked carefully between Minho and Han - although they weren't interacting in any way, he could feel the desire to be alone. Silently, he trudged off after Seungmin and Felix.

Minho headed to the kitchen without a word. Han, taking a deep breath, followed him.

Minho's kitchen was spotless. The 3Racha + Hyunjin dorm was a little less... spotless. But Minho's was like a pinterest board. Han felt reluctant to touch anything and contaminate it. He was dirty. He was gross. He's a monster.

"Can you cut these for me, Han-ah?" Minho asked, setting several Bell Peppers in front of Han and then pulling out a wooden cutting board that Chan had gifted him on his last birthday. It was nice to know Minho actually used something Chan gave him - he was pretty sure that some of Chan's gifts were still packed away in his closet. No one took offense to it, Minho wasn't really a gift giver or receiver. Han knew he loved when someone did something for him. If someone offered to cook dinner in his stead. When someone randomly mopped the living room. When someone did the laundry. Minho was easy to please if you knew him well enough.

Han picked up the peppers, running them under the water in the sink as Minho pulled out some frozen meat from the freezer and prepped a knife to shred it. He set the peppers down on the cutting board and froze, looking back at Minho.

"What?" The elder asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you don't know how to cut peppers."

"I do." He looked down again. "I just... you really trust me with a knife?"

"Yeah." Minho answered like it wasn't a big deal at all. "Why wouldn't I? You're not a serial killer, are you?"

"No, but... I mean... I still hurt... people." Myself. I hurt myself.

"You wouldn't hurt me." Minho handed him his own knife, reaching for another one from the drawer.

Jisung's eyes watered as he gripped the knife tightly. He had a sharp object. He had that itch in his thigh to cut. How did Minho trust him? He didn't trust himself. No one should be trusting him with something like this. He wanted to cut. He so badly wanted to. It hurt he wanted it so much. The knife was right there. It was in his hand. He had the tools. He could run to the bathroom and lock the door. He could do it. He wanted to do it.

Panic made him slam the knife down onto the counter. A shudder taking his whole body as he jumped back. "I can't do it."

Minho set his own knife down, wiping his hands on the towel hanging from the oven door. "Come here, Han-ah. It's okay." He opened his arms and the younger easily melted into them, holding the front of Minho's shirt and burying his face in the fabric. He was ashamed of himself. He couldn't even hold a knife without thinking of it as a weapon. He wanted to hurt himself. He wanted the pain. He deserved the pain. But he wanted to be okay. He didn't want to see every sharp object as a tool to use against himself. Why couldn't his brain function normally?

"I've got you." Minho whispered, resting his chin on top of Han's head, his breath rustling his hair. It wasn't a false hope that everything would be okay. It wasn't an empty promise that he'd fix everything. It was a simple fact. It was reality. Minho did have him. "Let's try again, hm?"

Han pulled away, staring wide-eyed at the knife. "I don't think I can. Hyung, I-" He can't admit it. But it seemed Minho already understood.

He picked up the knife himself and cut the stem out of the first orange pepper. "There. Now you do the rest." He handed the knife to Han, whose hand was shaking violently.

He wanted to set it down again. He wanted to forget the urge to use it for purposes it wasn't intended for. "Hannie." Minho hugged him around his back, arms guiding his hands into place on the pepper and the knife. "You know how to cut peppers. Like this." He worked Han's hands into motion, his own hands covering the younger's to move him the way he was supposed to. They managed to cut the first pepper together perfectly.

"See? I told you that you know how to cut peppers. You don't even need me." Minho smiled, patting the younger's back as he reached for a slice of pepper from the cutting board.

Han nodded, hands still shaking. But Minho was right - he did do it. He succeeded in using the knife for the right purpose. He pushed that heavy black dog off his lap. Sure, it was still pressed up against him, but it wasn't sitting on his chest anymore.

"That's a good pepper." Minho commented, taking up another piece and biting off half. "Here." He popped his mouth open, prompting Han to mimic the action. Without thought, Han obeyed, and Minho tossed the second half of the pepper slice into his mouth.

"It is good." Han smiled and nodded, the taste exploding in his mouth. He didn't realize until after he'd swallowed what he'd done. He froze, ice pouring down his back at the dreaded realization that he ate before his allotted eating hour.

Minho was quick to redirect him though. "Next pepper. Do you think you got it this time? Or do you want me to do it?"

"I can..." Han whispered, taking the next pepper into his hand and carefully cutting the stem out. Minho nodded in approval and moved back to cutting the thawing meat.

Han gained more confidence with eat pepper by just standing next to Minho and sometimes randomly elbowing him when Minho drove his hip into Han's side. It was nice. It was normal. But Minho was always ready to offer help. Maybe that's exactly what Han needed people to do. Treat him like he was normal until he wasn't and then gently take him by the hand and guide him back.

It got comfortable. Han's mind was able to drift just the slightest bit. That's when he spoke up. "So, what was that man talking about? You know, the lawsuit?"

Minho paled.

The peaceful moment had been shattered. Han set the knife down. "Hyung? What lawsuit?"

Chapter Text

Minho did his best to keep his expression stoic, but he knew Han knew him better than to believe what he wore on the outside. When the knife hit the table, the dancer knew it was over. He wasn't even sure why he was trying to hide it from Han - shouldn't he know about the threat? It was an important issue. He had just hoped for the time to discuss how to address it properly with Chan before presenting it to Han.

"Hyung." Han spoke again, his voice monotone. "What are you not telling me?"

Minho sighed, continuing making dinner to try to keep the atmosphere casual. There was no need to get worked up about this - it was important, but it wasn't worth the tension he could already feel in the air from the question alone. "Chan and I think that it may be in your best interest to consider suing the company for defamation."

Han couldn't even react. His brain didn't supply a single thought - not even the idea to ask what that meant. He just stood there, staring at Minho like he'd never seen another human in his life.

"We'll discuss it with Chan later, Han-ah, he should be involved in the conversation."

Whatever gears had frozen in Han's head snapped back into motion, but they grinded loudly and harshly against each other, turning what was once a peaceful moment into something much heavier. "So, you think we need to talk about it with Chan hyung, but you didn't think to ask me about it first?"

Minho opened his mouth to answer, eyes still on the food he was preparing. But Han didn't give him a chance to even breathe. It seemed that now that his brain was functioning again, he was going too fast. "You think a lawsuit would be in my best interest? Was this your idea or Chan's idea?" Minho noted the dropped honorific.

"We spoke about it together then spoke to the managers."

"Wow. So, everyone knew but me. Thanks. I feel really in control of my life right now." Sarcasm bled heavily through his words so much so that Minho paused for a second to contemplate how to continue this conversation without making matters worse. He wanted to propose the idea to Han properly - this wasn't the way things were supposed to go. He'd already been worked up not more than five minutes ago, he wasn't ready.

"Hannie, just trust us, alright? Chan and I-"

"Want what's best for me, yeah, I got it the first time. But did you ever stop to think that maybe I don't want to make a big deal about it. Did you think to maybe consult me before bringing it to a legal team. What were you thinking? And you want me to trust you about it?"

"Han-ah." Minho turned to him, eyes warning him to keep his voice down. Once he started yelling, there was no going back.

Could the younger care though? It was hard to find it in him to care about anything - why should he care what Minho thought? But he does. He does care. And maybe that's why he's mad. He cares what Minho thinks, but it's clear that feeling isn't mutual. "You suck, Minho. I hope you know that."

"Yah! Don't speak to me that way Han Jisung. You might be struggling right now but you have no right to-"

"And you had no right to intrude on my privacy and my- my rights! A lawsuit?! What made you think that was a good idea? Why didn't you just ask?! I didn't want it. I don't want it. Why couldn't you put yourself in my shoes for one second before making stupid decisions that you think are right but only for yourself! I don't want a lawsuit and- you just- you betrayed me, hyung! I trusted you!" He spun around and marched to the mudroom, slipping his shoes on.

Minho's heart skipped a beat as he dropped the knife to the counter, jogging after Han. "Where are you going?"

"Away." Han mumbled, tugging his coat off the rack.

"No. You're not."

"Why not? Going to hold me hostage and take away more of my rights again? Going to force me into something I don't want?" He grabbed the house key and set his hand on the doorknob. "Just don't follow me. If I wanted you to come, I'd say so. But either way I bet you don't care. You don't listen to what I say anyways."

"Han-ah, you're being overdramatic. Let's just sit and talk it through for a little bit. Channie hyung will be home any moment, and we call all discuss it together, yeah?"

"Together meaning you and Chan and I sit there and take whatever you give me? Yeah. No thanks." He moved to turn the doorknob, but it already opened and in stepped none other than their leader, a warm smile on his face and little snowflakes clinging to his hair.

"Where are you headed, Hannie?" He asked cheerfully, as the younger slipped past him.

"Oh, I'm sure you'd love to know, wouldn't you? You just love to be all up in my business."

"Woah, hey, what does that mean?"

The door slammed behind Jisung, abruptly putting the mudroom into silence as Chan stared at the wood that nearly hit his face before turning to Minho who was glaring at it as well. "What was that about?"

"He found out about the lawsuit." Minho huffed. "As much as I love him, I want to beat his ass. He doesn't sit down and listen for a second. He just exploded in my face and stormed out." He spun around, stomping back to the kitchen.

Chan hastily kicked his shoes off and scrambled to take his coat off, legs already carrying him to the kitchen after Minho. "He's going through a lot right now, Min. It's understandable."

"We're just trying to help but he seemed to think I was the enemy! You too!"

Chan sighed, draping his coat over one of the bar stools as he joined Minho's side, watching intently as the younger angrily cut the pepper Han hadn't finished. "He'll come around. He just needs a minute to himself. He'll come back for dinner, and we can talk afterwards. It was a long day, he's still sick, we gotta be understanding of that, yeah?"

"He doesn't want the lawsuit."

"We'll talk about it later."

Minho groaned, stabbing the pepper forcefully. "I should go after him."

"No. Nope. No." Chan's hands found their way to Minho's shoulders, holding him in place. "We let him take his time. I trust him not to do anything stupid right now. We have to let him go out and do his thing. We have to let him know we still trust him and respect his privacy. Right?"

The dancer's grip relaxed around the knife. "What if he needs me?"

"He found us when he really needed us. He'll do it again. If he's not back in an hour, we'll call him. Does that make you feel better?"

"No." The younger mumbled.

"What if I help make dinner?"

"Still no, but now that you offered you have to help."

Chan nodded, rubbing the dancer's shoulders for a moment before rolling up his sleeves and washing his hands in the sink to join Minho's side again.

Han didn't wander far at all. He actually only wandered a block over and sat on a bench, staring out at the street. He'd pulled his hood up and bowed his head, hoping no one would recognize him. There wasn't really anyone out right now though, most people were rushing him from work to get dinner. So, no one bothered to pay attention to the random boy on the bench, knees pulled to his chest and tears streaming down his face.

It had gotten too big. He'd lost control of his life. Nothing was under his control anymore. He was just floating along for the ride, and he hated it, though at this point there wasn't even a way out of the ride. He couldn't get off. He wanted to though. He so badly wanted to be free. But no amount of wishing could change his reality.

He let the tears fall freely. It hurt. It hurt knowing that Minho and Chan were trying to help but just weren't doing it right. Didn't they see that he wanted more control, not less control? He wanted to make his own decisions. He wanted to be himself again. This wasn't helping. It was only making things worse. Would they even listen to him if he told them that? He half expected them to show up now and try to plead their case. He wanted nothing to do with it. For a moment couldn't his mind get a break where he wouldn't have to think about everything wrong with him? No. Probably not. He'd begged his mind for that release plenty of times - it never listened. No one listened.

He was cold. The ache of it setting into his bones. He hadn't even been out here long, but sitting on a metal bench at sunset in the snow wasn't exactly a tropical paradise. After a few seconds of debating himself, he decided to just head back. If Minho and Chan wanted to talk when he got back, too bad. He wasn't talking. He wasn't talking for a month. He was choosing to be mute now. Sure, he knew it would last for about five minutes, but it was still his own decision, and it felt good to make.

He pushed the door open, not even bothering to remove him shoes and coat as he trudged through the living room and hallway towards his bedroom.

"Han-ah?" Chan poked his head out of the kitchen, eyebrows raised, already asking the questions that hadn't yet made it to his tongue.

"No. I don't want to talk. Go away." He quickly answered, hurrying past the leader.

"Are you okay?" Chan asked instead, expression softening.

Han's heart leapt to his throat. "I SAID GO AWAY BANG CHAN."

"I'm sorry." The leader whispered. He added something, maybe "we're here if you need us" but Han's blood was rushing too loudly in his ears, and he slammed his door over the leader's words. Now guilt was paired with betrayal, and it wasn't a nice feeling. He just sat on the floor, continuing to cry into his knees. His brain for once wasn't saying anything to him. It was silent. But it wasn't the good kind of silent. It was the silence that was harboring something else. Like fog at night. He couldn't see through it to know what was really going on though he knew instinctually that something was out there. He was feeling plenty of emotions though, so maybe his body finally understood that he couldn't take anymore and stayed quiet to let him cry out of anger, sorrow, and annoyance. Annoyance at the others, the company, the lawsuit, but most of all, and always, himself.

Who knows how long he sat on the floor, back to his bed, head in his knees, sobbing. It could have been minutes; it could have been hours. The emotions fought over the battlefield of his body to see who was victorious, but he was the one suffering all the attacks. One moment the sorrow would hit too hard, and the tears would drip even faster. One moment anger would strike, and he'd be clenching his fists in his jeans, wishing he could tear something apart. And another minute panic would take over and he'd be gasping for breath to fend off the impending attack.

It was so painful trying to keep the sobs at bay, to try to breathe like a normal person. Maybe it's selfish, but why did it have to be him? Why did he have to be the one to lock himself behind a door and bite his lip until it bled to silence his cries? Why couldn't it have been someone stronger? Why him?

The door opened before Han was prepared - not that he would ever have been prepared, but he definitely wasn't ready right now. "GET OUT, BANG CHAN!" He shouted. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" He couldn't even see through the blur of tears in his eyes.

"Sung, it's Changbin." The elder's soft voice whispered, followed by the click of a door closing.

Deja Vu from the bathroom incident at the New Year's performance caused a flash of anger to boil his blood instantaneously. "GET OUT, HYUNG!"

Silence followed his demand, but he knew Changbin was still there. He hadn't heard him move an inch so he was obviously still there within his bedroom. Looking at him. Watching him break down in an ugly mess of self-hatred, tears, and snot. He was a pathetic creature. "Go away, please, hyung. Please. I don't want- I don't want anyone to see me." 'Like this' went unspoken. Who wanted to be watched in their worst moment? Certainly not Han.

"I want to." The elder said gently, the creak in the floorboards told Han he was coming closer. "I want to be here with you. Can I? Please, Sung-ah?"

He hated Changbin. He hated the fact that he wouldn't listen - just like everyone else. But maybe there was a tiny part of him that was okay with Changbin's disobedience. Maybe there was a part that really was asking for him to stay and that was the part that really spoke to the older rapper. Maybe Changbin could see deeper than what was on the outside. And maybe Han did love him.

He kept his head buried but knew it was Changbin's warmth beside him and he let himself lean into the elder's chest, his steady heartbeat pounding softly in his ear. "I hate this. I hate this, hyung."

"What do you hate?" Changbin asked, his hand coming over to wrap tightly around the younger.

"Everything! I hate everything! Minho and Chan especially!"

"What did they do, hm?" Why was Changbin being so gentle? Didn't Han deserve to be scolded for having run away and then hiding in his room after yelling at the oldest members? Maybe Changbin just didn't know. Or maybe he did...

"They wanted to do this stupid lawsuit. They decided for me. They didn't even ask me! I hate them so much!" He sobbed, immediately clamping down on his lip to quiet himself. He leaned further into Changbin, his arms so real and warm around him - better than the coat he still hadn't taken off. His hugs were the best feeling in the universe.

"Hyungs are the worst, aren't they? They ruin everything, huh?"

"Yeah. I hate them." He squeezed the elder tighter, hoping he would - in turn - tighten his grip on Han as well. He did. The anger dissolved into sorrow finally. "I don't hate them though. I'm just mad. But not just mad. I'm - I don't even know what I am."

"You don't have to know. That's okay, Sung-ah."

"I was having such a good day..." The tears welled up and started pouring down his cheeks, pattering onto Changbin's chest. "I'm sorry."

"No. Jisung-ah, don't apologize. I want to hear what you have to say. I wouldn't have come in here if I didn't want you to tell me what was wrong. I wanted to hear your side of the story as well as Chan and Minho hyung's stories."

"Why? So, you can take sides?"

"So, I can help find a middle ground." A sob escaped Han's mouth before he could try to silence it. "Aw, Hannie, come here." He pulled Jisung onto his lap, letting him straddle his legs so he could be fully pressed against the elder's chest, crying into his neck. "Good days can turn into bad days a lot. But bad days can also turn into good days. We'll fix this. And if you really don't want to press charges or even talk to the company about it, I will personally argue with Chan and Minho. Okay?"

"I don't deserve you, hyung." Han cried, fisting the back of the elder's t-shirt.

"What makes you think that, hm?"

"I don't know."

Changbin's hand rubbed up under Jisung's jacket, rolling over his spine. "You're not in the wrong here. You don't need to feel guilty for standing up for yourself and you don't need to apologize for your feelings. Apologies are for when you've done something wrong, not for when you feel a different way than someone else. Maybe the yelling shouldn't have gone on - but I already forgave you, and I bet Chan and Minho have too. They wouldn't hold grudges against you - they really are trying to look out for you. Maybe they're just having trouble seeing it from an emotional standpoint. You know how often they have to look at things professionally, it can't be easy constantly switching between the two. I think you should have a conversation with them, but maybe not tonight. Not when everyone is still feeling too emotional. If you want, I can tell them not to bring it up tonight."

Han nodded into his neck, whimpering at the slippery feeling of tears and snot against his skin.

"Okay. I can do that. After I get a minute to hold my favorite dongsaeng."

"I'm not your favorite; Felix is your favorite."

"No. No. You're my favorite. Don't tell Felix I said that though."

"I will." Han smirked.

"Felix will tell Minho though. And Minho will stick me in the air fryer. Do you want me to be air fried?"

Jisung managed to giggle through the tears. "No. Unless someone records it."

"Oh, come on!" Changbin groaned, hugging Jisung tighter to him. Han happily accepted the hug, because for the first time since he could remember, his brain didn't tell him that Changbin could feel how fat he was. He couldn't feel the scabs on his thigh. For once, it was just Changbin and his all-encompassing warm hugs that could melt away any problem. For once, Han felt normal, and he cried openly about it - finally feeling a new emotion: contentment.

Chapter Text

Changbin closed Han's door as quietly as possible and sighed in relief that he'd been able to get Han to fall asleep without a fuss. The poor boy was exhausted, he could tell. His eyes were drooping, his words were slurring, and his efforts to get his coat off would never have succeeded if Changbin hadn't helped. But with a little help, Han was out like a light, curled up around a pillow and dreaming peacefully. He deserved it. Changbin just wish he knew that.

Tiptoeing down the hallway, the rapper found his other two roommates in the living room as well as Minho who was sitting in the far corner on his phone. Hyunjin however was draped across Chan, grumbling about rude photographers at a photoshoot. Chan listened intently until he managed to catch Changbin's movement out of the corner of his eye. Then all three sets of eyes were on him. "How is he?" Chan blurted, moving to stand up but Changbin set his hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Asleep. And if you wake him up, I'll tell JYP that you want a sleepover with him."

"Ew." Hyunjin made a face, though he pushed himself to sit up more, dragging his legs off their leader. "Really, though, how is he? I feel like I haven't seen him."

"Alright." Changbin sighed, coming around the couch to sit between Chan and Hyunjin, grabbing the youngest member's legs and draping them over his own lap to let the dancer get comfortable. "Exhausted. But he said he was having a good day."

"And I ruined it." Minho mumbled. His words wouldn't have been audible if it hadn't been so quiet in the apartment.

"I can't really deny that, hyung." Changbin spoke up, shooting the dancer a sympathetic look. "Your intentions were good though. He told me everything. Said he doesn't want to talk about it tonight though. But you three will have to talk and I might sit in with him to help him articulate."

"That's fair." Chan nodded, crossing his arms and leaning back into the couch, letting his head fall back to stare up at the ceiling.

"Should I come too?" Hyunjin asked, propping himself up on his elbows. "I mean, I want to be there for Jisung too."

The leader smiled fondly at him. "I bet he'd appreciate the gesture, but I don't think so, Hyunie. Maybe you could do something with Lixie, Minnie, and Innie while we're talking."

Hyunjin looked defeated but nodded.

"You know." Changbin began, patting the dancer's leg. "Sungie is sleeping all alone in there right now. I bet if you're quiet you wouldn't even wake him up if you wanted to go sleep with him. Keep him warm."

Hyunjin was up in a second, sliding off the couch onto the floor with a thud.

"You okay?" The three oldest members asked in unison.

"Fine!" The dancer blurted, pushing him up and jogging as quietly as possible to Han's room. Poking his head in the door, he found a lump of Han Jisung in the middle of the bed, barely illuminated by the city lights shining through the window. He closed the door and crept across the room, pulling back the blankets and slipping in beside the rapper as slowly and carefully as possible.

"Mm?" The younger groaned, rolling over. Hyunjin stilled, holding his breath for fear he'd have woken Han up. But Jisung simply turned over in his sleep, burying his face into Hyunjin's chest. His breath stayed even, his eyes stayed closed, and Hyunjin sighed in relief. Maybe more than relief. Contentment.

He tentatively wrapped his arms around Jisung, pulling him a little closer to get comfortable and set his chin on the younger's head. "Sleep well, Jisung." He whispered, letting his eyes slip shut and allowing sleep to lap up against him like gentle waves on a beach. It could almost touch him, too close to let him go anywhere but into their embrace, but he could just stay there and let the waves of sleep come to him. It was soft, gentle, and peaceful. It was right.

Hyunjin smiled. If only his younger self could see him now. He'd be disgusted. But Hyunjin was happy for every little fight he had with Jisung now knowing how the story goes. Without those little fights, would they ever have gotten the chance to get closer? They knew each other so well if only for the sake of using each detail to tear each other apart. Hyunjin could even recall making fun of Jisung for cuddling the nearest object - be that pillow or person - in his sleep. He used to hate it; it was weird to him who preferred to sprawl in his own bed. Now he was so glad Jisung did it. Because, finally, he could hug him. Finally, he could hold him.

"Huh?" Hyunjin startled at the sound in his arms, glancing down as Jisung lifted his head, squinting in the darkness. "Hyung?"

"No, it's me." Hyunjin whispered, putting pressure on the back of Han's head to keep him in place. "Go to sleep, Jisung-ah."

"Where did Changbin hyung go?" Han mumbled, his words muffled by Hyunjin's shirt.

"He's out with Chan and Minho in the living room."

"Oh." There was a long pause of silence. Hyunjin was worried he'd refuse his embrace. Refuse to be held. He'd ask for Changbin. He'd ask for one of the older members. Sure, he was a part of hyung-line, but he was never treated like it; The perfect example was having just been basically kicked out of the living room so the three oldest members could talk. But just this once he wanted to be the big brother. He prayed silently, wishing for just this moment to be what Jisung needed. "Okay." The younger eventually finished off with, settling in once again, face pressed to Hyunjin's chest and his heart which was swelling in absolute joy.

The world could be falling apart, but Hyunjin was okay right now. He had Jisung. Just him. He was a jealous person, he wanted the younger all to himself, and he was willing to embrace that fact. So, call him jealous, but Jisung was his.

He waited to make sure that Jisung was sound asleep before he too let the waves of dreamland pull him gently into their arms and hold him as he slept.

Chapter Text

Han was preparing all morning mentally to talk to Minho and Chan. The anger had drained, and he was left with that stupid anxiety that just never really faded. He didn't want the lawsuit, that was final. He'd find compromises for other things - he'd say he's a fairly agreeable person... others might not agree but he'd say it at least. But this wasn't something he was willing to compromise on. Still, he didn't trust himself not to fold like a lawn chair for Minho and Chan as soon as they said anything that might oppose his opinion. He didn't want to make conflicts worse. He wanted to stand up for himself, but at this point, the once solid, steel backbone he had when he was a trainee was now brittle and arthritic.

Hyunjin stuck close to Han all morning. He knew Hyunjin knew something was up, he wasn't sure if he knew the exact details and he really had no intention on filling him in on everything, but he didn't exactly mind the company. It kept the voices in his head quieter and made it harder to get sidetracked into his thoughts. Hyunjin was safe. Han was okay with that.

But then came the dreaded conversation. The front door opened and Han and Hyunjin - who currently occupied the kitchen, Hyunjin eating breakfast and Han just watching because food was a big no-no - could hear Minho's voice greet Chan and Changbin in the living room.

Han groaned and buried his head in his hands. He didn't hate Minho quite as much as he did last night, but his feelings were still hurt and trust betrayed. He wanted to run into Minho's arms and just suck out every ounce of love and affection he could get from the dancer, but an odd mix of dignity and anxiety kept him in his seat at the table.

"Here." Hyunjin offered a single bite of sausage to Han. "Just one bite?"

Han glared at the sausage. Sure, it looked and smelled delicious, and Han was genuinely craving meat. But it was a no. He had enough to worry about. Gaining weight was not something he needed to add to that list. "Thanks, but I'm good." Han sighed, resting his head on his chin and sipping water.

Hyunjin frowned. "Jisung... come on."

"What." Han said firmer than he intended it. But Hyunjin was one of the only safe people in the dorm right now, he didn't want to lose him too. He was already avoiding Chan and Minho at all costs. Avoiding Hyunjin would make the day impossibly worse.

"Just..." Hyunjin took a deep breath. "Never mind. Sorry."

Jisung watched him closely, studying every small movement, the usual confidence in Hyunjin's posture lacking and eyes tired. "Okay." He sighed, nodding at the older member.

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. "Okay?"

"Okay I'll have one bite. If you don't ask again." He was well aware this was probably a cruel deal. But he didn't want Hyunjin to look upset. He didn't want to put more strain on more friendships. He just wanted to feel normal. And the smile that exploded on Hyunjin's face almost made his stomach stop churning in disgust at the thought of food outside of his allotted daily eating hour.

"Okay!" Hyunjin pushed his plate to Han. "Have as much as you'd like, Jisungie."

Jisung took the smallest piece, trying to shut the voice up in his head that told him on repeat how fat he was and popped it into his mouth. It was delicious. He loved the flavor, adored it even. But one bite was more than enough. He pushed the plate back to Hyunjin. "Thanks."

"Of course." The dancer continued to smile. "You can have as much of my food anytime you want it!"

Jisung nodded sadly. "I'll keep that in mind..." He glanced back at the walkway to the living room. He could hear the three oldest members whispering, and he had a sinking suspicion he knew who and what the quiet conversation was about. "Umm... You finish up breakfast, Hyun, I'm going to go talk to them."

Hyunjin tapped Han's hand, grabbing his attention and momentarily silencing his thoughts. "If you want me to come bail you out, just say something like "I'm done" or something like that and I'll come get you, yeah?"

Han tried to offer the nicest smile he could. "That's really great, but I don't really want you listening in..."

"Then scream it." Hyunjin shrugged. "Or anything loud enough that I'll get the memo."

Jisung shook his head. He didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve an out. He didn't deserve a friend like Hyunjin. He didn't deserve Hyunjin at all. He stood up, his chair screeching against the floor. "Alright, I'll do some ridiculous bird call or something."

Hyunjin chuckled, eyes lighting up. "There's the Jisung I know."

Han froze, staring at Hyunjin. He honestly didn't know the last time he'd cracked a careless joke. To be honest, it was probably only yesterday or maybe even sometime this morning, but something felt different. There was almost a lightness to it. A momentary lapse of silence in his head and a flickering feeling of normalcy. It was gone as soon as it came, but it was there, nonetheless. And that meant something. At least Jisung sure hoped it meant something because he really needed something when he walked into the living room to find the three oldest members sitting on the couch together. He felt like a kid waiting for his parents to have a discussion about his report card or something awkward like that. The way the three oldest members stopped mid conversation and turned to look at him in unison was the slightest bit unsettling and only added evidence to what he already knew: they were discussing him.

"Um... can we talk?" Jisung managed to get out in a moment of extreme stupidity or bravery. Or perhaps he was possessed for three seconds because as soon as the words came out, Jisung seriously considered doing a ridiculous bird call to get bailed out of whatever he just put himself into.

"Of course." Changbin smiled, patting the couch beside him between him and Chan. Jisung would rather hang from the ceiling like a bat than sit by Chan right now, but he obliged because Changbin was on the list of okay people, and he didn't want to strain that relationship too. He sat awkwardly on the edge of his seat, hands fidgeting frantically. Changbin placed a hand on his knee to stop it from bouncing, though he hadn't even realized he'd been doing it. "I'm pretty sure I know what you want to talk about... but just so we're clear, do you want to start?"

Jisung sighed. It was now or never. He'd actually be perfectly fine with never, but his stomach churned and knotted, and he knew that feeling would fester forever if he didn't just get it over with now. "I don't want the lawsuit." He said immediately, looking at Changbin, who nodded encouragingly at him. He turned his eyes to Chan and Minho who kept stoic expressions. "I don't want a lawsuit. The company screwed me over, I know. I'm pissed as hell at that. But that's nothing new. They've done it before, and they'll do it again. I don't want to make a fuss about it."

"Making a fuss is the only way to make them stop." Chan pointed out, keeping his tone as casual as possible though Han knew him well enough to know he didn't agree with his point of view at all. "Han, they lied about you. And not to your betterment. They lied in a way that ruins your image and reputation. That's defamation and that is something that should be addressed. Charges should be pressed. It's not right that they can take your name and drag it through the mud without consequences."

Han bit his lip. "But that doesn't mean it needs to become a legal issue. This is personal. Between me and the company. This isn't about you guys." He didn't know where this was coming from, maybe all the suppressed anger was coming up finally.

"You're right." Chan nodded, glancing back at Minho who stayed eerily silent, eyes locked on Han. "We can't force you to do anything, and I won't do something you don't want me to. But what they did was wrong. There should be consequences and no matter what, I will be discussing it with our manager."

"Fine." Han sighed. "But no lawsuits. It stays between us and the company." So maybe he could find a compromise after all.

"I- I guess I can get on board with that." Chan nodded slowly, as if still unsure. "But what they did-"

"I know." Han cut him off. "It's wrong and they deserve consequences. But making decisions for me, posting something that wasn't true about me - don't you think that's kind of similar to what you did to me? I mean, you guys meant well, and I get that I guess. But still. You made a decision without consulting me and just dragged me along without asking how I felt about it. I didn't want the lawsuit. I never would want a lawsuit."

It was silent for several seconds. Han stared at the floor. Would it be weird to interrupt the silence with a bird call? He wanted to bail. The momentary confidence was draining, and he didn't think he could hold out much longer. He needed to escape. He needed a break. The thoughts were crowding back in and-

"I'm sorry." Minho finally spoke up. "I hid it from you because I knew you wouldn't agree." He locked eyes with Jisung and he immediately felt all the love and affection Minho always had for him. Disagreements or not, Minho's loyalty to the members never wavered for a second. "I know you, Han-ah. I knew you're disagree with us about the lawsuit and that's why we didn't tell you. And that was wrong. Despite the fact that I still disagree with you, and I think Chan hyung does too, it's you who makes the final call, and hiding it from you was never the right option. So, for that, I'm sorry."

Han's mouth hung open stupidly. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard Minho apologize to anyone. Maybe the only time he'd heard a true heartfelt apology was to Chan when Minho got eliminated all those years ago. And that barely counted because Minho had done nothing wrong. Changbin patted Han's thigh, breaking him free from his shock and he nodded at Minho. "Okay... it's okay."

"I'm sorry too then." Chan added. "I'm with Lino, I still disagree with you Han-ah, but disagreements happen I guess, and I'm your leader, not your parent... this is your decision, not mine."

Han reached out tentatively, patting Chan's knee softly. "Thanks, hyung. I get where you guys are coming from, but I don't want a lawsuit."

"Then no lawsuit." Changbin affirmed, wrapping an arm around Han, and somehow, he leaned into the side-hug. His skin didn't crawl with the contact, maybe because he truly needed it. He needed Changbin's hugs, because no one hugged quite like his Binnie hyung did.

"Thank you." Jisung whispered, hands gripping his jeans as he tried to still himself from trembling so badly. He exhaled a deep breath, nodding slowly to himself. This is okay. I'm okay. Everything will be okay.

"I am talking to the manager though." Chan repeated, rubbing Han's knee, leaning down to catch his eye. "Personally, you can make your own decisions, but professionally, I am still your leader, and I will do everything I can to protect you from the company. Understood?"

Han nodded, eyes locked on Chan's hand on his knee avoiding the elder's gaze. The weight was nice, it kept him from bouncing his leg anxiously. "That's fine but no lawsuit."

"No lawsuit." Chan echoed. "You have my word, Jisung-ah."

And he knew Chan's word was written in stone. He took a deep breath and released it slowly again, working to keep himself stable. "Are we done now?"

Minho shrugged. "I'm guessing you want to be done?" Jisung didn't have to answer, they all already knew what he'd say. So, the older dancer continued. "Yeah, go ahead, Jagiya, we have practice this afternoon so be ready by noon." And back to normalcy, and Jisung was totally fine with that.

He wiggled out of Changbin's arm and Chan's hand and hurried out of the living room to his bedroom where Hyunjin was sitting on his bed drawing an orchid in his sketchbook. He glanced up at the younger member as he entered and offered a smile. "I didn't hear any bird calls, so I assume it went well?"

Jisung plopped on the bed beside Hyunjin, feeling like a weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. For a second, he felt giddy. He'd just stood up for himself. When was the last time he'd done that? It felt good. Really, really good. And for a second, the voices in his head were stunned into silence. "Good. I think it was good."

Hyunjin raised his hand to Jisung, and the younger high-fived him. "I knew you could do it, Jisungie. Good job." And, holy shit, that may have been the best Han felt in a long time.

Chapter Text

Bang Chan walked with purpose. This was his purpose. Defending his boys against anyone who might so much as dare think a single thought against them. He was well aware he had some anger issues - mostly played off as "oh, I'm just protective" - and those issues were really starting to get bad. He really shouldn't have learned boxing now that he thought about it...

He found their manager in his office in the company. It was really early in the morning. How much sleep Chan had actually gotten the previous night wasn't exactly something he wanted to ever admit to anyone, but anger festered in his chest and sleep was difficult enough on a good day, it was near impossible today. He knocked on the door, trying to remain casual and calm and not go full-on hulk mode on their manager.

"Come in!" He heard their manager's voice call. And Chan took a deep breath, trying to settle his frustration before stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

"Chan..." The man said slowly, setting his cup of coffee down on his organized desk. The view out the window behind him let in the soft yellow rays of sunlight over the snowy city. His eyes lingered on the view for a moment before turning to the manager.

"We need to talk." Chan said through gritted teeth.

The man nodded. "Yes, I believe we do. About that lawsuit you and Lino threatened-"

"No." Chan quickly shook his head, crossing his arms as he hung by the door of the room. Any closer and he might not be able to keep himself in check. He took a deep breath. "We're not doing the lawsuit."

"You're- oh- thank god."

"You're not off the hook though. None of you are." Chan snapped, then closed his eyes and tried to think nice thoughts, like trains and grass and oh, fuck this. "What you did to Han was unacceptable. It was defamation and that is a punishable offense. You took an innocent man, and dragged his name through the dirt for - what? - fame? Five extra seconds in the spotlight? It's wrong. It's beyond wrong. He deserves an apology and reparations. And you will do it by 7pm tonight or I will personally terminate my contract with the company. Understood?"

The manager just stared at Chan for a moment. "You're bluffing..." He said slowly, studying the leader.

"Do you really think I'm bluffing?!" Chan asked almost hysterically, the anger coiling in his stomach like a snake ready to lash out at its prey, fangs and venom and all. "Try it. I swear to god, if you don't apologize and make it right, I will go back to Australia and denounce my title as leader of Stray Kids. Cut all ties. You'll have nothing left of this group. Do you want to risk that?"

The manager straightened up in his chair and cleared his throat. "You've done this before... you've threatened to leave before..."

"Yes." Chan said, nodding once. "When Minho and Felix were eliminated. But they were brought back so I never had to carry through with it. But I would have done it then and I will do it now. And let's face it, you need me. This company needs my group. And I have no doubt that the others will follow my lead if I terminate my contract."

The manager looked down at his folded hands for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Fine. What are your conditions?"

Chan clenched his jaw, all media training and everything he'd learned as a leader in what to say under stress pushing up. Maybe all those years as a trainee would finally pay off. "Firstly, I want you to revoke the statement on every single platform you put it out on, and secondly, put out a new message. This one is an apology to the fans; an acknowledgment of the harm you've done to an idol's reputation and the lie you fed them."

The manager's mouth popped open, his hands grasping for pen like he wasn't sure whether to write this down or write his resignation letter. "But- the public- the company's reputation-"

"Bullshit." Chan snapped, hand slapping the table so hard the manager's coffee cup jumped and spilled over some papers. "Not the company's reputation. Han's reputation. You took one of the most vulnerable moments in his life, and you shoved it in his face - you turned his struggles into a marketing tactic, and it wasn't even accurate."

The manager gulped, reaching out to move the paper's out of the spilled coffee with shaking hands. "Oh- okay."

"Third." Chan barely gave him time to process it; he was moments away from committing some serious crimes. "You and every single person who helped in posting that statement is going to apologize to Jisung. And it's not going to be some corporate jargon, 'we apologize for the confusion' shit. You're going to do a real apology. And then he gets to decide whether he accepts it or not."

"But the company's reputation is-"

Chan saw red. "I swear to god if you talk about the company's reputation one more time I'm going to punch a hole in your wall. He is a human being, not a toy."

"I hear you." The manager said carefully.

Chan frowned. "Do you? Because it doesn't fucking feel like it. If I haven't made myself clear enough, then here it is." He leaned closer, hands gripping the desk to try to restrain himself. He lowered his voice, eyes locked on the manager. "You ever hurt one of my boys again, through words, or actions, anything, then we are gone. Done. I will take them and leave this company and you will lose us. And I won't be quiet about it. You tried to shut me up once, you won't do it a second time."

The manager sat there, eyes wide. The room was painfully silent. Neither could say a word for entirely different reasons. Chan was certain if he said or did one more thing he'd be behind metal bars. So, wisely, he turned on his heel and left the office. The door slammed shut behind him echoing down the hallways of JYPE.

Jisung sat silently at the table, hands tucked under his thighs to keep them warm. He'd found himself shivering more frequently lately but Felix would always wrap a blanket around him or Changbin would rub up and down his arms. And right now he had one of Jeongin's hoodies on and for the first time the maknae didn't say a word of complaint, simply: "navy looks good on you, hyung."

"Want a bite?" Seungmin offered, lifting up his fork with a piece of beef on it. Jisung's stomach churned as his eyes glanced over to the clock. 4:23pm. It wasn't his hour of allotted eating time. He shook his head, biting his lip with a little pout. "Okay." The vocalist nodded, not pushing.

"I'm gonna go work on some lyrics." Jisung whispered to no one in particular.

Hyunjin mumbled an "alright" around a mouthful of rice but didn't acknowledge him more.

So Jisung slipped off the stool, his slippers doing little to keep his feet warm from the cold wood floor. He wanted to sit with the members for their shared dinner, but he felt out of place still. They were having fun, he didn't want to ruin that.

The door clicked shut, bathing his room in complete silence. Silence was bad. It made his thoughts loud. Loud thoughts meant bad impulses and Jisung knew he had no backbone when it came to those impulses. So, he pulled out his phone, pushed his earbuds into his ears so far they hurt, and laid down in his bed, face buried in his pillow. He wasn't paying close attention to the songs. They did little to drown out his thoughts. Little to make him feel better. They just made him feel little. Too small. Against thoughts so big and loud they crushed him deeper into his mattress. He was too little. Why would anyone look at him? Why would anyone like him? Did they still like him? Was he too much? Not enough? Too average for any kind of attention? Did he even want attention? He bit his lip harder, holding his breath for a moment to try to shut the thoughts out but they got stronger.

If he wanted attention then he's just attention seeking. It's better if he just isolated. But then that's rude to everyone expecting him to put effort in. If anyone even knew his thoughts they'd turn their back. How could anyone so disgusting still exist?

If they knew him, would they stay? If they heard his thoughts, insecurities, desires, passions, ambitions, would they care? If they saw him, would they love him?

The song switched, there was a moment of silence as his playlist loaded. A moment of this thoughts quieting just a little as tiny words bounced around his head like little pebbles on a lake. The ripples echoed around until the next song started up. He froze, lifting his head up a little to make sure he was hearing right.

'Looking at yourself, a lot goes in your mind. "I don't know if I'm ready to show myself." You worry day and night.'

His breath hitched, and he bit down on the pillow. Aside from the music in his earbuds, the room was quiet, and the other members would be able to hear him. He kept his head down, listening as the song progressed.

'Don't you ever tell yourself that you're not enough, I'm certain that you're truly fine.'

His eyes burned, his throat worked to swallow the rough lump forming in it, but it hurt. His head hurt. His throat hurt. His chest hurt. His whole body hurt. Everything hurt.

'Let me tell a little story, about the star that couldn't shine or blink. Out of a million, billion, felt like an alien, alien. Then that little star was surely going to become the biggest thing. Making a fantasy, family, beautiful galaxy, galaxy.'

His breath caught in his throat, and he felt the tears build up until he couldn't see. He didn't even have to blink, they just plopped down his cheeks. Fat tears that rolled down and pattered onto the pillow. He shook so hard with the effort to suppress the sobs, but they started coming out, one after another until he couldn't even hear the song anymore and all he could do was cry. He ripped his earbuds out, sitting up on his knees to try to catch his breath but it wouldn't come.

He buried his face in his hands, palms digging into his eyes, but he couldn't quiet down. It was like his ribs were collapsing inwards and some invisible hand was physically ripping his breath and tears out of him. He couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop. He could already hear footsteps coming, but he couldn't care. He sobbed so loud he didn't even hear the door open.

"Hannie?" Chan's voice called softly into the darkened bedroom as he flicked the light on then off again. But Jisung's face remained buried in his hands. "Jisung-ah? What's wrong? What happened?"

"Hyung?" A voice whispered from the doorway but after a hushed 'let me handle it' the door shut again.

Jisung turned away, curling up and pressing his face into his knees, choking on every breath and sob until he couldn't even feel his body anymore. He wanted it to stop, but he wanted it to keep going.

"Jisung." The mattress sank beside him. "What happened?" Chan rested a hand softly on his back between his shoulder blades, checking for a reaction but Jisung just shook his head miserably. "Did you see something online or-?"

"Did you see? Did- did you know?" Jisung blurted, looking up. His eyes met Chan's in the dark, his tears reflecting the elder's softened expression.

The leader blinked once. "Did I know what?"

Jisung nearly screamed the sob that came out was so loud. He couldn't just cry right now though, he needed an answer.

"Jisung, take a deep breath, you're going to make yourself sick." Chan cooed, rubbing his back softly. "Deep breaths." He tried to demonstrate but Jisung sobbed harder, shaking the bedframe with his tremors.

"You did." He cried, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "You did see."

"Hannie, I don't know what you're talking about." Chan said in the gentlest voice he could, leaning down the catch the younger's eyes again. "What did I see?"

"Me." Jisung whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks and falling like stars in the dim light to patter onto Chan lap.

The silence that encased the room was gentle. No thoughts, no tension, no expectations. Until Chan nodded, his own eyes sparkling a little more than usual. "Of course, I see you, Jisung. And if you think I don't, count on me to find you, yeah? I'm always right here."