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Some scream out in pain, others suffered silently; no response except a slight grimace on their face.
Chan would proudly state his pain tolerance was high, even feigning ignorance when one of the members jabbed him or pinched him, always wanting to seem strong, always wanting to stand proud. That’s what comes with being the youngest, always making yourself bigger than you are; and the boys knew...of course they knew Chan’s pain tolerance wasn’t as high as he made it seem but as all loving (and teasing) brothers do they pretended like they believed. They pretend they didn’t notice him when he stubbed his toe and said it didn’t hurt, they acted like they didn’t see him when he cut his finger with a knife whilst cooking and he blinked the tears away because indulging him was easy and it was cute to see him come for a cuddle instead of them practically forcing him into their arms.
Pain tolerance varies and Chan knew that yet the excruciating agony of having his leg trapped under a tractor was pain like no other. His lungs stoped as his throat croaked in torture, unable to even breathe through the torment his body was put through. It burned and slithered through his leg as his body turns numb from the weight.
None of this was supposed to happen.
Chan was never supposed to wake up in a hospital bed with his left leg gone.
Weary from the induced coma he had just awoken from and the sizzling sting of something not being quite right under his skin, the explanation from the doctors of how they “unfortunately had to amputate his leg, there was no other way” didn’t truly sink in.
It didn’t sink in when the members visited him: some sorrowful, others empathetic, others jolly, comforting him and distracting him.
It didn’t sink in when he had his bandages changed and was told how his leg was healing really well.
It didn’t sink in when he met with the hospital assigned therapist and they talked about all his options and how he was feeling during this “difficult time”.
None of it sunk in.
Maybe because he didn’t want it to or maybe because his brain couldn’t handle the idea of no longer having two legs. Chan didn’t like to think about it. Thinking about it made it real.
Ignorance is bliss.
Ignorance was Chan’s only choice because once he acknowledged it, accepted that he’d never be able to dance, never be able to run, never be able to perform again he’s not sure he’d be able to live.
Those shitty stories about recovery that were shoved down his throat by the nurses, therapist, doctors, members his family and anyone else that was holding out idiotic hope about him still having a life only lived to serve themselves. Only spoke to make themselves feel better about having a damaged son, a useless member, another patient to fix. He’d never say that aloud though, afraid to voice the darkest thoughts that he was sure would spur out of him if he even hinted towards anything negative about himself but it was hard to ignore when it became the only thought in his head.
Listening to the members as they talked about how much they missed him in the dorm and couldn’t wait for him to move back became overridden with self deprecating thoughts of death; of how much better it’d be if he just died. He had no use anymore. He was 22 with one leg. What was the point?
Chan was sick to death of Jeonghan promising him lies “it’ll get better, there’s so many options nowadays” sick of having to sit through hours of members comforting him when he never even asked. Never asked to have to listen to them talk about something that they’d never experienced. Never asked to put all this extra burden on the members. Never asked to lose his leg.
Because his life was over. His life was over and there was nothing he could do about it.
Looking down at what once used to be his leg and now was nothing was a mental anguish Chan would wish on no one; yet a bitterness grew as he lay immobile in his bed, watching Seungcheol walk in with that irritating smile on his face, he couldn’t help but envy Seungcheol for his legs and wonder how different things would of been if he got stuck under the tractor. If Seungcheol had to learn to deal with a disability, if Seungcheol had to suffer through not just physical pain but mental pain which comparatively felt worse.
If only that stupid reality show never happened, if only the stupid fucking crew didn’t enjoy making them suffer through “entertaining” challenges which cased them risk to their lives. If only Chan never became an idol.
Yet without being an idol Chan would have never found dance.
Without being an idol Chan would have never lost dance.
Through loss there can be courage, strength and determination yet Chan just wasn’t sure he could make it far, wasn’t sure he could learn something as basic as walking again. Wasn’t sure he wanted to learn any of it again. The struggle didn’t seem proportional to the outcome because without dance Chan was nothing and without a leg Chan would never be able to dance how he once did. Never able to move with so much fluidity and comfort he once had. His leg was gone and it was never going to come back.
Another life may be sweeter.