Chapter Text
The air of anticipation and excitement clings to Jeongguk like second skin, thrumming in his veins. London. Europe, finally, for the first time. There are just a couple more hours to go and he is stretching lightly in one of the rooms, the chatter of his hyungs a pleasant background track he has got used to over the years, when he feels a stab of pain in his leg. Sharp, hot pain. Fear slices through him, cutting his pained noise off to just a gasp. His hyungs notice his expression immediately, jumping to their feet and calling for the managers.
The next half an hour is a messy haze of bandages, stingy antiseptic and hushed conversation. Jeongguk waits patiently for the verdict, picking on some hangnails on his left hand. His heel hurts, the cut deep enough to be damaging if it’s aggravated further by dancing. Taehyung flits like a moth around him, goofing around and trying to make him laugh, pretending to fight the chair he cut himself on. A cold feeling is washing down his whole body, a different thrum replacing the former one. This one is nervous, anxious, grips him around the chest and makes it just that bit more difficult to breathe in. He feels so stupid, so clumsy, too large in his body. As his head swims in the self-flagellating state, he hears his name being called, floating through his consciousness as though he is underwater.
“Jeongguk,” Jimin calls, “are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he answers, turning to look at his hyung, “sorry, what did you say?”
“You’re sitting the concert out,” Jimin says, “that’s what everyone thinks is for the best.”
“Oh...okay,” he looks to the side, unable to look anyone in the eye right now, see the sympathy on their faces, or even worse, resentment.
He knows they would never really resent him, but can’t help feeling like he’s letting everyone down. Sitting the concert out echoes in his ears, sickeningly loud, disappointment sitting heavy on his shoulders, his own and the imminent one of their fans, he is sure.
“If that is for the best, then okay.”
And that’s it, the fate of their concert decided. The rest of the preparation is spent in stretching and hashing out how the performances will go without him in the heart of it. Jeongguk curls up on one of the couches and lets the noise wash over him once more. It’s not unusual for him to be quiet, in the zone, they all have their ways of dealing with stress, but he can feel the members’ worry like a physical touch on his skin. This is all your fault, spins in vicious circles in his head, how could you let this happen, so many people depend on you.
An easy arm wraps around his shoulders, ruffles his hair.
“Cheer up Gukkie,” Hoseok’s voice filters in his ear, “it’s no big deal, you should still have fun and enjoy this.”
“I know, hyung,” he turns his head to Hoseok’s heart shaped grin, “I just... it sucks, that’s it. Army will be so disappointed.”
“I’m sure they will understand, it’s not like you could have known this would happen,” it’s Namjoon now, patting him on the back and smiling encouragingly.
Taehyung throws himself across his lap, “Yeah, Gukkie, don’t worry, they love you no matter what!”
“Thanks guys”, he says, fiddling with his fingers, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He feels himself redden slightly, embarrassed and uncomfortable with the sudden attention and display of feelings.
“Anytime, Gukk-ah, that’s what brothers are for,” Jin chirps in, and that’s the end of that conversation, the pre-concert hush and focus slowly settling on everyone.
Jeongguk knows that Yoongi is usually not that good with offering comfort in front of everyone and prefers to leave that to the more open and cheerful members like Hoseok or Jimin, but something about his silence just rubs him the wrong way this time.
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The concert starts off well enough. The energy is electrifying, the screams deafening. Their fans are understanding, sympathetic, chanting his name and smiling huge smiles despite the situation. Jeongguk feels better and also worse looking at them.
He gets a nice stool to sit on, his own spot on the stage and some staff to roll him around as per need. He feels miserable just thinking about it, hates it from the bottom of his heart. His hyungs make sure to give him support and affection – Jin comes during Magic Shop and holds his hand, smiles at him fondly; Tae flits in and out in his usual bubbling manner and Jimin hovers the most, all casual, comforting touches and easy smiles.
It’s honestly a great concert despite everything, they are professionals first and foremost, and they don’t let something like this ruffle them, at least not on the outside. Everything runs smoothly, the fans ecstatic and losing their minds in the enormity of it all. He tries to enjoy himself to the best of his ability for their sake, but everything in his body screams to just jump out of that damn chair and dance.
Alongside his never ending pride and admiration for his hyungs, Jeongguk feels an ugly trickle in his mind, a sly whisper of Why aren’t you like that, why are you never good enough, it’s always something with you, curling like black smoke around him, almost a physical presence. He grapples with it throughout the whole thing, mostly dealing fine but then, near the end, just 2 or so songs left, he feels something inside him just snap. The itch in his throat is suddenly too strong, the hot trickle of tears unstoppable. He bends over and sobs quietly, small and ashamed. All around him, the noise is too much, pressing and invasive, the lyrics of Anpanman a sharp reminder that he is no hero, just a pathetic boy crying on stage because he feels useless and a disappointment.
Gentle hands are upon him once again, a sweet voice in his ear – Jimin.
“Hey, it’s okay, baby, just breathe. In and out. Shh, it’s okay, you did so well.”
Sweet, sweet, caring Jimin. Always there when you need him. He stays with Jeongguk for a bit, goofs around to make him smile, reminds him to dry his tears. Jeongguk somehow feels even worse, for crying, not having a grip on himself, making everyone worry.
He powers with some determination through to the ending, crying once again at his ending ment, because he had a whole speech in English ready and now even that is capital r ruined because of him. He apologizes to Army, to everyone, promises not to let something like this happen ever again. Hangs his head in shame, hides his face, just wanting it to end already. Jimin makes the audience scream love for him and all he can think is, “I don’t deserve it, any of it, I need to be more, be better.” Namjoon, the great leader that he is, senses his turmoil. Offers his own brand of comfort, gentle reassuring words and a solid embrace. He craves the attention and resents himself for it at the same time. Tries not to think about Yoongi being the only one not approaching him, fails horribly.
Then it’s finally, blessedly, over and they shuffle off the stage followed by the noise of the crowd. Jeongguk is sad, somehow exhausted despite being the one just sitting through the whole thing. He just wants to lie down and wallow in his misery.
A hand appears on his waist as he is going towards the dressing room, guiding him a bit. It takes everything in him not to recoil from it, the constant touching grating on his already frayed nerves.
“I hate seeing you cry, bun. It makes my heart hurt.”
It’s Yoongi, his unmistakeable warm, raspy voice washing over his senses like honey. Finally. Ironically, he feels tears fill his eyes again.