Chapter Text
Hoseok is next to find his way.
Hoseok is fine. He has been feeling a touch brittle recently. But he's fine.
The nightmares are back, that's all. They're so repetitive as to be boring, but he still wakes up with a pounding heart and an aching head every single time. For a while, it was just one night a week, or even less often. But now he’s living on his own, working at the dance studios and studying for late university entry, the nightmares are almost every night again.
He hasn't told anyone. He's fine. He's supposed to tell his doctors and his occupational therapist and his counsellor whenever his symptoms change, especially if they worsen. But nightmares could be normal for a young person living alone for the first time.
Hoseok is fine.
He's always first to arrive for his work shifts, and he smiles at everyone, all day, without fail. He vastly prefers leading the dance classes to working on reception, but he always volunteers for reception when they need someone. It's fine. He rehearses his greetings until they sound flawless. He rehearses his smiles too. He memorises everyone's names carefully. It's good practice for studying, so it's fine. He's lucky to have this job. Plenty of people wouldn't hire someone like him, no matter how talented and hardworking a dancer he is.
He has to make this work. He has to be fine. He can't give up and go back home. He and his mother worked too hard. He worked so hard to get here, to get a real job, where he gets to dance.
He just feels brittle. He knows the signs. He's fine. He'll catch up on sleep at the weekend.
Sleep catches up on him first.
He notices it happening but there's nothing he can do about it. He's sitting at the little reception desk and his limbs start to feel heavy, and then numb. He knows it's happening, but his knowing is much slower than the sleep. Sleep crawls along his nerves and through his veins, and--
... the carousel ... he can't find his mother... he's clutching a Snickers bar ... he's scared, he's so scared ... the carousel ... he's eating a Snickers bar ... the music of the carousel is loud ... he's alone, he's in danger ... he turns ... he's looking for his mother ... he's so scared ... the spinning carousel ... rising ... flying ... feathers ...
Hoseok sucks in a breath, dragging his head up and forcing his eyes open.
“Hey, silly!” laughs Hyungwon. “Were you out late last night? It's only Thursday, buddy, you gotta pace yourself!”
Hoseok forces his hand up to hurriedly wipe away the drool from the corner of his mouth, desperately hoping his stiff fingers don't give him away. He's fine. He turns on his smile, and even scrounges up a laugh that he thinks sounds pretty natural.
“Nah, I stayed up late studying!” he says, concentrating on every single word so he doesn't slur any of them. “Guess I overdid it.”
“Oh you gotta take care of yourself,” Hyungwon says. “Don't burn yourself out before you even get to uni!”
He claps Hoseok on the shoulder and heads towards the dance rooms.
Hoseok slumps down, trembling.
If anyone else had found him -- asleep at the desk! drooling! -- it would've been over. If someone had come early for their class? If the owner had come along? The owner knows, and hired him anyway, because Hoseok had promised he could do the job well. That means not falling asleep at the desk!
He's fine. One slip is fine. He won't let it happen again.
Hoseok smiles brightly through the rest of his shift, digging his fingers into his thigh under the desk. He doesn't even think that would keep him awake, but it makes him feel more like he's in control. He's fine.
Finally, the last class files out. Hyungwon, freshly showered, waves goodbye as he leaves. The other employees leave too. Hoseok hopes he's saying the right things to them. He's not really processing what his mouth is saying, but he rehearsed, so hopefully it's fine.
He locks up, and sets off for his little studio apartment.
Sleep is stalking him. Waiting to catch up with him again. The tips of his fingers tingle, but maybe that's just the cold. It's fine. He's fine.
His legs feel rubbery. His vision blurs.
He's not fine.
Between one very long blink and the next, a warm purple glow catches his attention. It's coming from the join between two buildings. He's never seen it before, even though he walks along this street every day; his studio is just a little further along.
He's dreaming. Right? But it's not the nightmare.
Sleepily, he shuffles towards the purple glow, and it expands... He doesn't even think about it, just steps through the doorway it forms. He likes this dream.
A bell tinkles behind him.
Someone is lying on a couch, his eyes closed, while someone else sits curled up in an armchair, reading aloud. At the sound of the bell, they both look up, and the reader beams. Their smile doesn't look practised.
“Hi!” they say. “I'm Jimin, and this is Yoongi-hyung. Welcome to The Magic Shop!”
“You look really fuckin’ tired,” the other person - Yoongi - says.
“You can rest here,” Jimin smiles, taking Hoseok’s hand gently and drawing him away from the door. “You can rest as much as you need. Nothing bad will happen and you won't miss anything. Oh, and there won't be any nightmares.”
Hoseok wants to answer ask questions, learn more, but it's all too much.
Sleep wraps him up and Jimin catches him.