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Jeongguk felt restless.
He didn’t know really what it was that had set it off this time, that low buzzing at the back of his brain that seemed to drown any spec of serotonin that his brain could struggle to produce.
Some days, he was completely fine. Others, he could barely function.
And some were a mix. Sometimes his mood would jump so often throughout the day that he didn’t know how he felt. He could go from being elated on the stage, still running on the high of seeing their fans, then an hour later be sobbing backstage because his foot had been three millimetres out from its spot and everyone had noticed and he was a failure and how could he let everyone down like that? How could he break their trust and embarrass his hyungs and prove his haters right?
Today was a mixed day.
And now, lying in his bed, the darkness was settling in around him, shrouding his brain in a fog that he couldn’t push through of. He felt suffocated, a pressure in his chest that wouldn’t shift. But it wasn’t a comforting pressure, like a hug or a purring cat. It was crushing. Weighed him down, made his breaths hard to shift while his lungs refused to expand.
He’d tried distraction tactics, ones that often worked but weren’t fool proof. He’d read through his favourite ebook on his phone, but had only managed to get a chapter in before he was too bored to keep his focus there. He’d loaded up Overwatch, but had only gotten through a single match before the same happened again. He’d even tried watching a movie, something filled with super heroes and action and a gripping, violent story. But too soon did he find his focus absorbed away again by the fog crowding his brain.
He thought he’d be able to sleep it off maybe, turn his brain off and not exist for a while, and in the morning he would be functioning and happy again, like the boy everyone saw on the TV and on the stage.
But it had been two hours, and still he couldn’t get his eyes to stay closed for long. In the dark room of his dorm, the walls were closing in. The air was thick and warm, sitting too heavily within him to where he didn’t, couldn’t, see the light at the end of the tunnel anymore. He was drowning in air, no oxygen to be found in the room that just got smaller by the second. Opening the window didn’t help, all it did was make him feel more trapped, more confined when the whole world was out there, full of oxygen and life while he was stuck.
Eventually, Jeongguk climbed out of bed and pulled on a hoodie. The material felt heavy, but comforting as it surrounded him. Really, he’d prefer to not wear it, but the thin cotton t-shirt he was wearing below wouldn’t protect him from the elements, and getting sick would only make it worse. Getting sick would make the other six disappointed in him for not looking after himself, and then he’d have to tell them how he was doing because he’d made a deal of no more hiding when he wasn’t feeling well.
Jeongguk had decided this didn’t count though. They never said he had to tell them when he was feeling bad mentally, only if he was sick.
And he wasn’t sick. He refused to be sick.
Once the hoodie was secure, Jeongguk quietly but quickly left his room. The rest of the dorm was silent, apart from the snoring coming from at least two of the bedrooms, and he didn’t want to wake anyone up. It wasn’t that they had a busy day the next day, but they’d been so overworked recently that everyone needed the rest. He was meant to be going to the studio tomorrow with a few of the others, working on songs for the next album, and he’d ruin everything if he was the reason everyone else was tired.
So he moved as quietly as he could through the dorm and left, slowly pushing the door closed so it locked with a soft click rather than the loud bang it could do if he’d just let it swing closed alone.
They were already on the top level, so it only took a single staircase before Jeongguk was opening a fire door and letting himself up on to the roof.
They weren’t meant to go up there, a health and safety concern their company had said. Especially with the weather as bad as it was in the late July climate. It was summer, but rain was still so common in Seoul, the 3am air cool and calm around him as the fine rain hit his warm face and soothed him immediately.
The breeze was so nice as he walked over the flat roof top, perching himself close to the edge as he glanced over the lively city below.
Seoul never slept, lights glimmered like the stars above them as far as his eyes could see. He could see the clubs, filled with patrons that were mere alcohol filled ants below. He could see the towers full of apartments, a few lights still on as their inhabitants also fought the dark of the night.
But it was quiet, so quiet, and the cool air didn’t sit so heavily within his lungs.
“I thought I might find you up here.”
Jeongguk jumped at the voice behind him, thick with sleep and a gravelly tone as he turned to look at one of his oldest hyungs. Yoongi looked barely awake as he stood a few feet behind him, wearing a woollen sweater that Jeongguk was sure didn’t belong to him as the sleeves trailed past the ends of his fingers and the bottom trailed closer to his knees than his hips. But in the rapper’s hands were two mugs, steaming in the damp air.
“Yoongi-hyung.”
The blonde didn’t say anything further as he walked towards Jeongguk, carefully lowering himself down to sit beside the maknae overlooking the city and handing him one of the mugs. Glancing down, Jeongguk knew immediately from the colour and scent that it was coffee, the one Yoongi had handed him as black as the night around them and bitter in his nose. Yoongi’s, Jeongguk knew, was a little sweeter than his own, two sugars and a drop of milk, just enough to make it a chocolate brown. Yoongi said nothing at first as he took a sip.
“So, what’s going on?”
Jeongguk didn’t know what to say at first. He could lie, say he was fine and that he just needed some air to cool down after the long day, but Yoongi would see right through that, and he hated lying to them. But he didn’t want to tell the truth and have the other see him any differently. He’d spent so long being golden, that anything else felt like a failure.
Jeongguk hated being a failure.
“Jeongguk, talk to me. It’s okay.”
“Why are you awake, hyung?”
Yoongi gave a small shrug, taking another sip of his coffee and wiping away the dewy mist of rain that had settled on the bridge of his nose. “Was just dropping off when I heard you leave, my brain’s been a little loud tonight, that’s all.”
“How did you know I’d be here?”
“Because you always need air when the fog closes in.”
Jeongguk stopped with his mug centimetres from his lips, turning his eyes but not his head to look at the older. “What?”
“We all know when you’re struggling, Jeongguk. We just never want to crowd you when you are. But, if you need to talk, we’re all here.”
“That’s not it, hyung, I’m fine, really.”
“Don’t lie to me, I’m too smart for that. You’re too smart for that. You’re not fine, you haven’t been fine all day.”
“That’s not true, I was fine this morning.”
“Yeah, 18 hours ago.”
Jeongguk didn’t respond to that. What could he respond to being called out in such a way?
“I didn’t want to bother any of you.”
“You’re not a bother.” Yoongi said it so matter-of-factly, that Jeongguk almost believed him. “We care about you. If you haven’t noticed that by now, I don’t know what I could tell you.”
The maknae said nothing again, turning back to his mug and sipping at the liquid. Coffee probably wasn’t the best plan at the time it was, but Yoongi probably assumed neither would be sleeping.
But as he thought about it… Yoongi was right.
Even if none of them had called him out before, there were little things they all did when Jeongguk was having a bad day, even if he’d never realised it before.
Seokjin would order in Jeongguk’s favourite food when they had their lunch break. It would always be coincidental of course, it just happened to be what everyone had wanted that day…
Yoongi would sit closer to him, a hand patting his knee passively as neither spoke.
Hoseok would smile brighter, throw his arm around Jeongguk’s shoulder and pull him into a casual hug whenever the two were naturally close enough to do so.
Namjoon would praise him more, every right movement was met with pride and proud words. Every mistake was met with reassurance and comfort, more so than he would normally.
Jimin would lie his head on Jeongguk’s thighs, a passive comfort while never mentioning why he was suddenly so clingy that day. Why it just so happened to be the day that Jeongguk was feeling low that Jimin was seeking human contact more than usual.
Taehyung would thread his fingers in Jeongguk’s hair, gently massaging his scalp in silence while they watched a film or he played a game, often playing worse than he otherwise would with one hand preoccupied.
They all knew.
They all knew when he was bad, and they knew how to help without making it too obvious.
They loved him.
“Why don’t we get back inside, Jeongguk.” Yoongi said, now sounding particularly more awake than he had when first greeting him. “We’ll reheat some food and watch something for a few hours until the others are awake. Sound good?”
Jeongguk hesitated. “Yeah, hyung. Sounds good.”
With a helping hand from Yoongi, the two got to their feet and walked off the roof, back into the warmth of the dorm within minutes.
But this time, the warmth wasn’t suffocating.
Yoongi’s hand within his own kept his lungs open.
A spotlight breaking through the fog.