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Jisung looks blankly at his phone. There's no notifications to look at, he's long-scrolled through every form of social media he has, even the games he plays feel boring, like they don't busy his mind enough.
But it's not the lack of notifications bothering him, not the uninteresting games and apps he's looked through a million times, but rather the lack of Jaemin.
Everyone is busy these days, everyone but Jisung, that is, but it's Jaemin that weights heavy at his mind. Jaemin is the one that he always sticks to, that he always knows he can rely on to be there, that's always promoting alongside him, but now he's not.
Jaemin knows him better than anyone else. Understands his boundaries, his anxieties and worries. Knows when and how to help. And his presence is comforting for Jisung. He's barely seen him in the past few weeks, and when he does it's in the briefest of glimpses; Jaemin comes home to sleep, sometimes eat, and then he's gone again, bouncing between practices and recordings. Jisung never noticed just how much they did until everyone was a part of it but him.
He hates himself for the injury. He could be busy too, doing anything but sitting around alone in the dorms dwelling over how lonely he is, but no, of course he'd had to get himself hurt and unable to dance.
Maybe he wouldn't mind not being able to perform as much if he could still practice, if he could still dance and get his mind off of everything else, rid himself of tension that came of being still for too long, but he couldn't.
A few times after getting the news that he wouldn't be able to dance, he'd sat in on practices, those of his own units and others, but it only frustrated him more, watching them and being unable to join in.
Jisung absentmindedly opens his messages to Jaemin's, though there's nothing in wait for him. The older answers whenever he can, and Jisung refrains from texting him too often, the last thing he wants is to be overly annoying and distracting, but he can't help but think about him, about what he's probably doing in the moment.
What if he's not okay? He knows all the members are beyond used to the almost nonstop schedules and busyness, but this year has felt different, most of them haven't gotten a chance to rest. What if Jaemin's exhausted, and Jisung can't do anything about it to help?
He exhales softly. If there's one thing he hates about worries, about anxiety, it's that one thought, one possibility, brings a million more. Worrying about Jaemin makes him worry about the others, what if they're equally as exhausted? Have they even been able to adjust choreographies and lines to fit without him being there? How much extra stress has that put on them?
Jisung's free hand moves to his uninjured knee, fingers beginning to fiddle with loose threads of his jeans, tugging slightly at them. He doesn't even know how long the injuries supposed to have him out of action, what if it's months? What if by the time he's able to dance and perform again, he's forgotten everything? What if he can't relearn it fast enough, what if people are disappointed?
He can't let down the group anymore than he already has, but he knows he probably will, and the thought makes an anxiousness settle at his chest, welcome itself in an instant. He tugs a little firmer on the particular thread of his jeans.
It's hard, hard when he can't turn his mind off in times like this. Hard when Jaemin's not there to help him think of anything else, to make him laugh at something or listen to what's worrying him, to reassure him.
His hands are shaking a little now, and he feels breathless. How did he let himself get anxious? He was just sitting, thinking, then there was this weight over him all at once, and everything feels unsure and overwhelming.
What is it he's supposed to do when he feels like this? He can't remember, his mind is just a mess of worries and possibilities and everything bad that can happen, and he just wants Jaemin, wants to go to their room and find him and talk to him, but he can't.
He looks to his phone, chews at his lip.
Something tells Jisung he shouldn't call Jaemin, but he's opening his contact anyway, like it's the only way he can fix the awful feeling that's effortlessly overwhelmed his entire body, his mind. He tugs so hard at the thread at his jeans that it comes completely off.
He isn't sure how it's possible for his heart to race any further, but it still manages to feel faster, seconds away from exploding right out of his chest. His thumb hovers over the call button with a few seconds of hesitance before he hits it, and brings his shaky hand that holds the phone toward his ear.
It rings for a while, or at least it feels like it does, and then there's a noise, followed a moment later by Jaemin's voice, the kind of bright it always is when he's talking to Jisung. "Jisung! I was just thinking about you. How are you feeling?"
"Hyung," Jisung's fingers find another thread to desperately fiddle with, while those of his other hand tap against the side of the phone. "Are you busy?"
Jisung can imagine the change in expression on Jaemin's face at the question. "No, we're just taking a break from rehearsal. What's up? Is it your knee?"
"No," Jisung's voice pathetically breaks with the simple word. "No, I— I just got anxious. And I didn't even— nothing even happened I just thought about everything, about how I can't practice, and how I'm going to forget everything and everyone's going to be mad at me because everyone's already so much more exhausted because of me and I—"
"Jisung, hey," Jaemin says softly, and even through the phone, Jisung feels reassured by the tone only he can convey. "Do you remember what you're supposed to do when you feel like that? Other than talk to me?"
Jisung shakes his head, then realises the other can't see him. He really wishes Jaemin was there. "No." He mumbles again.
"Focus on your senses." There's some sort of noise on the other end of the call, like Jaemin's moving or sitting down. "What can you see?"
Jisung swallows. The question feels hard, like it's some sort of complex math he doesn't understand, but at least attempts to for Jaemin. "Uh, the wall. The TV, I turned that off a while ago, I couldn't find anything to watch. A glass Chenle left near it... The window." He lists, slowly.
Jaemin hums thoughtfully, showing he's listening. "What about hearing? What can you hear?"
"You," Jisung answers that question easily. "Not much else, really." He's silent for a moment, listening. "There's some birds outside, I think."
"Mhm, can you taste anything? Or smell anything?"
Jisung has to think about that longer. "Not really. I think Renjun-hyung made some food before he left, I can kind of still smell that, but— can't recognise what it is."
"What can you feel?" Jaemin questions.
"My phone, the ground, the couch, my jeans." Jisung answers, slowly once more, making sure to process the things he says first.
"Good, Jisung," Jaemin says softly. "Do you feel a little better after that?"
Jisung realises he does, actually. "Yeah," He exhales, feeling like he can actually do so now. "A little."
"Good." Jaemin repeats, and Jisung can place the relief in his tone.
The younger shakes his head a little again, looking to his lap. "I'm sorry for calling you out of nowhere, I know you're busy."
"You don't need to apologise for that. I'm glad I can be here for you," Jaemin answers. "I wish I could be actually there for you, especially when you're hurt, but," He exhales, pauses. "I know it's easy to get nervous about things like that when you're there alone. But you're gonna be okay, promise. You're always fine if the hyungs are injured or take a break, right? You're never mad at them?"
"Of course not. Never." Jisung responds, looking towards the door thoughtfully.
"Then why would we ever be mad at our favourite maknae then, hm?" Jaemin asks in a half-playful tone, that's gone in his next words. "We're all tired and busy. But not because of you. We miss you, being with us all the time. I miss you, especially."
Jisung feels a smile nag at the corners of his mouth. "I miss you too, hyung."