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it shouldn’t have been shocking, but it was.
the thought was still stuck in changbin’s head, looping again and again like a song on repeat hours later. chan had cried on camera. he had said some truly devastating things and nearly made the rest of stray kids cry with him. he had said that if stray kids didn’t exist, there wouldn’t be a reason to live anymore. it shouldn’t have been shocking, not to changbin, who’d been with christopher bang well before stray kids’ chan existed, but it was.
why had he not seen this coming?
thinking back, changbin couldn’t remember ever seeing chan cry. shouting in frustration, sure. and yes, he could remember seeing tears seep out of chan’s eyes once or twice, but even those instances could hardly be classified as crying. for all changbin knew, chan’s eyes back then had been watering from lack of sleep or from allergies. and even if they had been from pain or sadness, it was never anything like this.
sobbing.
changbin shuddered. it wasn’t a song on repeat, songs sound nice. this was a blank feedback loop, a dissonant, uncomfortable one that kind of made him want to vomit. and he could see, again and again, chan’s ever-reliable smile slowly dissolving into some foreign expression of pent-up pain.
why had changbin not seen this coming?
had he really let that stupid, fake, somewhat blinding smile fool him?
he wasn’t the only one who’d had such a response. he knew because he’d seen it, seen the way minho had looked to woojin for a cue, a hint as to how he should act to make this better, and how he’d struggled to smile even though he wanted to, for chan. changbin had seen the way jisung had snapped to attention, meerkat-like, the way he always did whenever one of their members was in pain. he’d seen the discomfort on the other younger members’ faces, the conflict there, wanting to be close to chan and far from his tears at the same time. hell, felix almost started sobbing along with him. hyunjin looked like he’d seen a ghost, seungmin like he was going to vomit, and jeongin somewhere in between.
changbin had recognized jeongin’s expression because he’d seen it on his own face when he’d caught an accidental glance in the mirror.
why had he not seen this coming?
out of all of them, changbin should have. he spent so much time with chan, they’d clocked so many hours in the studio together over the years. the only one who came close in the “Time Spent with Chan” category was jisung, and he’s younger, and actually, he really hadn’t seemed all that surprised. upset, yes, but not shocked.
the way changbin should have reacted. and the feedback loop continued.
and it wasn’t just jisung, either. woojin, too. upset but not shocked.
after the cameras turned off, the group had kept the mood light. it was all hugs and smiles that they had learned from the master himself - stupid, artificial, and a little bit blinding.
woojin gently pulled chan aside after that, and they talked in private somewhere until it was time to go home.
changbin had set his mind to empty on the car ride home. or at least he had tried. it was dark but the streetlights had lit up chan’s face just well enough for changbin to notice the tear streaks and how puffy chan’s eyes were. and so, on went the feedback.
on, and on, and on and on. chan went to bed as soon as they got home. woojin went with him. the rest of them followed soon after. by 11:30 pm, changbin and felix were the only ones still awake, sitting on the couch, zoning out in front of the television. felix had been nodding off for the past half hour, his head in changbin’s lap.
“lix, you should go to sleep.” changbin’s hands ran through felix’s hair methodically. “you’re exhausted.”
“mhm, ‘m sleeping,” felix mumbled. the feedback loop stuttered for a moment as felix’s words, more heavily accented than normal, intruded. then it continued on as usual, your regularly scheduled program of chan’s sniffling, trying to speak, and finally, sobbing.
sobbing.
changbin shuddered, shifted a bit, and gently lifted a groaning felix off of his lap. “not here, you dork, in your bed. like a normal human being, not Changbin’s Personal Blanket.”
felix pouted. “but i’m so suited to this job! i have all the qualifications!”
“felix…”
the younger boy took changbin’s hand, played with his fingers gently. the loop paused. “but if i go to bed, you’ll be alone.”
a gentle smile appeared on changbin’s face as, once again, his mind calmed just slightly and very briefly. “i’ll be alright.”
“i know, but-”
“lix, please,” changbin stood and pulled felix off of the couch. “you don’t have to worry about me.”
“i know, but… you’re going to sleep, aren’t you? eventually?”
god, felix was so good for changbin’s peace of mind. it was so much quieter with felix around. but the kid couldn’t keep his eyes open if his life depended on it, he was swaying on his feet. changbin nodded.
“eventually.”
“m’kay. g’night, hyung. sleep well.”
“night, lix. see you in the morning.”
felix hesitated to let go of changbin’s hand. “uhm, changbinnie-hyung? i love you.”
changbin smirked. great, now felix was worried about him. well, he could fix that, at least. he smiled broadly and bobbed his head while making cute gestures with his hands, saying “changbinnie-hyung loves you more!”
felix made a face and laughed and complained and made the feedback stop. “ah, hyung, why do you have to do it that way?”
changbin smiled, genuinely enjoying the peace he’d obtained for the moment. “goodnight, felix.”
felix grunted and turned around, finally letting go of changbin’s hand. changbin watched him, smiling at the way he padded towards his room, almost like a child.
he missed him immediately and chan had cried on camera and, god, was chan depressed again? like before?
why had he not seen this coming? chan wasn’t that good of an actor.
maybe changbin just hadn’t wanted to see it.
well, that was fair, because now that it was stuck in his head, it sure as hell wasn’t pretty. it was terrifying. it was making changbin’s heart beat like crazy until he couldn’t just sit there on the couch any longer.
he had just stood up to - well, he know what he had stood up to do, it was really just to do something - when a door opened. changbin visibly startled and jisung’s eyes went wide.
“jumpy much?” jisung gave changbin an incredulous look, then headed to the kitchen.
“shut up,” changbin grumbled, slumping back onto the couch as the fight-or-flight adrenaline rush left him.
“sorry. do you want anything?”
“no. what are you doing up?”
jisung returned with two glasses of water - one of which he shoved into changbin’s hand - and sat beside him. he slung an arm around the older boy’s shoulders. “keeping you hydrated, obviously.”
“obviously.”
changbin quieted then. he’d run out of things to say, and he’d long ago run out of energy to think of new ones. jisung, for once, was quiet as well.
the clock had never sounded so loud. it overlapped with the feedback loop in changbin’s head, creating a strange rhythm that seemed to distort chan’s breakdown further, making it more surreal and more intense simultaneously.
changbin took a sip of his water. he wouldn’t tell jisung, but he was parched. anyway, jisung probably already knew. jisung always seemed to know everything. sometimes it was like he could read minds. even with chan…
“hey, changbin-hyung…”
“hm?” changbin wondered if chan had talked to jisung about, well, stuff, or if jisung had just pulled it directly out of chan’s mind.
“what are you thinking about?”
okay, maybe he couldn’t read minds, then. or maybe he could only do it sometimes. “nothing.”
“oh.”
tick-tock. tick-tock. tick-tock. tick-tock. tick-tock.
changbin couldn’t remember the last time a room was silent with either of them in it, let alone both of them. this might have been a first. a few minutes passed that way, and then, quietly:
“changbin-hyung?” changbin stared at jisung. he was looking at his hands. this was probably the first time changbin had ever heard him successfully whisper. changbin frowned.
“y-yeah?”
“do you, uh…” jisung sighed. “do you think, uh… ah, nevermind. sorry.”
“hey.” changbin certainly couldn’t read minds, but he knew enough to be sure that jisung had something important to say. it was strange that he wasn’t saying it. “jisungie. what are you doing up? really?”
a quiet second passed. then:
“couldn’t sleep,” jisung mumbled.
changbin nodded, waited for jisung to say more. sure enough, he did.
“hyung, do you think he - channie-hyung - do you think he meant it? that we’re—“ his only reason to live. “we’re his— y’know.”
“shit, i dunno. you’re supposed to be the mind reader.”
“the what?”
“nevermind. i dunno.”
jisung nodded.
“do you?” changbin asked. “do you think he meant it?”
jisung shrugged. “dunno. i mean… well… i… yeah. i do.”
changbin sighed. “yeah.”
“do you think he’s awake?”
“probably not.” any other night the answer would have been ‘absolutely.’ chan is always awake. seeing chan sleep, even for the members, was highly unusual… changbin had probably seen shooting stars more often. how could he have thought chan was okay?
jisung leaned forward towards the coffee table to tap out a rhythm with his fingers. it melded in with the chaos of the clock noises but changbin found it a bit of a comfort anyway. it started to sound very much like jisung - the chaos, the rhythm, the somewhat muted but constant sound.
“i’m gonna go check. on channie-hyung,” jisung announced after a few moments.
“jisung, he’s exhausted. he’s probably passed out.”
“yeah, but. i just wanna make sure.” the finger-tapping became more frantic. “hyung, i’m worried.”
changbin was quiet. his brain was working slow. well, it was working double. tracking the looped audio of chan falling apart and making big decisions at the same time. unlike jisung, changbin had little talent for multi-tasking. he was thinking slow and keeping jisung was giving him an opening and changbin was keeping him in limbo.
“you just want to check, make sure he’s sleeping? and then leave?”
“yeah. if he’s asleep,” jisung confirmed.
“fine,” changbin conceded finally. “i’ll go with you.”
jisung’s breath rushed out all at once, as if he’d been holding it. “thank you, hyung.” changbin looked at jisung, really looked at him, and he looked like a kid. like a child. jisung was a child. a mind-reading child? maybe. but it had been a while since changbin had reminded himself of that.
“okay, then. let’s go.”
chan roomed with woojin and minho, both of whom would almost definitely be asleep at this point, so it was hardly surprising and far from telling that the room was quiet as they approached. both boys froze in front of the door, not used to sneaking into someone else’s room in the middle of the night, unless it was for some kind of goofy prank. finally, jisung gestured for changbin to open the door.
no light entered the room, no sound permeated it. changbin supposed that’s how it was whenever you walked into a window-less room at half past 3 in the morning, but tonight it felt more ominous than it should have. it was like walking into a void. he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but it didn’t seem like it was gonna happen, so he turned on his phone light cautiously, covering most of it with his hand. he surveyed the dimly-lit room.
minho, check. curled up, facing the wall, breathing heavily and even, definitely asleep.
woojin, check. changbin could see his closed eyes, face smooth without the worries of the daytime to make wrinkles. he looked younger than changbin liked to think of him.
and chan. yep, there he was. asleep. not sobbing. probably having sweet dreams. he looked pale, more pale than normal, but then changbin was shining a phone light on him in the darkness. changbin was having a hard time looking away and he didn’t know why.
jisung, who had been waiting outside, finally poked his head in. “is he—“
changbin put a finger to his lips and jisung zipped his lips. changbin watched the younger boy carefully, registered that the moment jisung saw chan asleep he relaxed. why was changbin feeling more tightly wound than ever?
jisung nodded, smiled fondly at chan, and then turned back to changbin, thumb pointing toward the door. changbin got the message, and followed when the younger boy left, but did so feeling more unsettled than ever. had he actually seen remaining tear streaks on chan’s face or was he imagining it? surely they would have disappeared by now. unless chan had cried more recently?
changbin wandered back to the couch, settled back in. jisung hesitated, feet tap dancing in one direction, and then the other. towards the couch, then towards his bedroom. towards changbin, then away from him. changbin smirked.
“go to bed, sungie. you can talk to channie-hyung tomorrow, right?”
“so can you, hyung. what are you gonna do tonight?”
“i’ll be right behind you. just gonna finish this water you brought me first.” changbin knew jisung wouldn’t actually buy it. he was really hoping exhaustion would win over at this point. “you worry too much, sung. i can take care of myself.”
jisung squinted at him, but agreed. “fine.” as expected, jisung didn’t seem convinced, but he did seem sleepy. “wake me up if you need me. g’night binnie binnie changbinnie-hyung.”
changbin waved jisung away. his mouth was much more tired than his brain. every part of him was more tired than his brain.
with jisung gone, the feedback loop was running wild, unleashed once again.
he wished he could say he didn’t know why he was so stuck on this. but the thing is, he knew exactly why. he knew and the reason made him feel sick.
he’d never seen chan cry before, but he had seen him on the opposite end of the spectrum of emotional expression. the opposite of sad wasn’t happy. it was empty. seeing that on chan had been one of the most alarming experiences of changbin’s life. the way he had dealt with it (or more accurately, not dealt with it) back then would forever be one of his regrets, and he felt fortunate that he hadn’t had to deal with the effects of his failure to deal with that up until now.
now that he was potentially faced with it again, he wanted to face it head on. of course, he couldn’t wake chan up. he needed his sleep. he wanted to, but he would have to settle for confirming that chan was okay one more time tonight. just for now. he’d address it tomorrow. he went right back to the oldest members’ bedroom.
he entered the room just like before, only this time he must have been more tired. he bumped the door open a little too far, enough to hit the dresser in the corner. it wasn’t terribly loud, and none of the sleeping members moved, so changbin entered as quietly as he could after that.
the void, once again. only this time he was alone. alone with the darkness, and the silence, and a few sleeping boys, and that’s it. that and the loop of tears in his head.