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“I’m just going to the bathroom, Hyung.” Junhui called over to Seungcheol, standing up from his seat between Jeonghan and Minghao.
Seungcheol nodded. “Do you want anyone to come with you?”
“No, Hyung. It’s just the bathroom.” Junhui smiled at his Hyung's concern.
He walked away from the group, pushing open the doors to the backstage area. He quickly flashed his pass at the security guard and walked through to the bathroom.
“Are you Wen Junhui?” Someone asked as he was washing his hands.
Junhui glanced up at the man and nodded. “Yes, I am Junhui. May I ask why?”
“There’s been a change of plan on your groups' performance. You’ve also been moved to a different seating area. We’re guards and we’ve been sent to escort you there.” Two other men revealed themselves.
Jun nodded again, drying his hands with a paper towel. “Oh, of course.”
Junhui threw the towel in the bin and followed the three men.
They led him in the opposite direction, through the more desolate corridors of the venue.
Just as they passed by one of the fire exits, two of the men grabbed him, one hand each in his hair and the other on his arm. Junhui cried out at the hands in his hair, pulling harshly as they dragged him towards the exit. The door with kicked open by the third guy and Junhui was dragged towards a black minivan. The doors were opened and he was thrown into the van, doors locking shut as they closed behind him.
Junhui didn’t fight. He curled up in the corner, his knees were drawn up to his chest before he let out a pained sob.
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“Where’s Junhui?” Minghao asked Jeonghan when the elder handed across a water bottle.
Jeonghan shrugged. “He went to the bathroom. Hasn’t come back yet.”
“I think he’s been gone too long.” Seungcheol sighed, getting to his feet. “I’m going to look for him.”
Seungcheol walked off through the same door Junhui had and looked around. Everything was normal, stylists and managers and idols all walking around.
The leader headed off in the direction of the bathroom, looking around in all directions for anywhere Junhui could be. Seungcheol checked all the corridors, the bathrooms, even the empty changing room.
Junhui was nowhere to be found.
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Junhui woke up locked in a small bedroom. He was lying down on a fairly comfortable bed, one wrist handcuffed to the bed. He was still in his suit from the music show, hair styled and makeup on.
He forced himself to sit up and winced at the pain in his head. He raised his uncuffed hand to his head and felt a bruise just under his hairline.
With a loud groan, Junhui lay back down and closed his eyes just as the door opened.
Two young women walked in, one holding another set of handcuffs and the other what looked like half of a pair of nunchucks, just a plain silver baton. The one with the handcuffs had bleached blonde hair, the one with the baton was taller and brunette.
“Ah, great. You’re awake.” The blonde woman said, cuffing Junhui’s free hand to the bed.
“Who the fuck are you and where the fuck am I?” Jun demanded, sitting up to the best of his abilities.
The women giggled. “Well,” the brunette started. “We’re just two antis. We don’t like you or your music. Your group is pathetic, and we think you need punishment for unrightfully winning against our biases.”
“Then why me?” Junhui asked, voice suddenly weak.
“Well, you were easy to get to.” Blondie smiled before Junhui saw the baton being swung at his head and he lost consciousness.
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“I’ve tracked his phone, Hyung.” Minghao called across to Seungcheol.
Only Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Minghao knew Junhui was missing. Minghao had been working on accessing Junhui’s location as his emergency contact. Seungcheol was making calls to other groups' managers to find out if anyone had seen Junhui recently. Jeonghan was just sitting in silence, an anxious wreck, shivering and crying silently so the kids wouldn’t hear.
“Where?” Seungcheol demanded, looking across to Minghao’s phone.
Minghao gave him the location and Seungcheol nodded, rushing off to see the security team with a quick, “thank you.” In Minghao’s direction.
The worried leader quickly checked with the security team who confirmed Junhui had been taken by a few men less than an hour ago. Seungcheol thanked them before going to SEVENTEEN’s room and calling the police.
He gave them the address and all the evidence he had before ending the call and heading back out to the group.
Seungcheol felt terrible leaving Junhui to finish their night at the award show, but their fans and the group needed their leader.
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It was twenty-four hours later when Seungcheol finally heard anything. Junhui was back and he was in the hospital.
Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Minghao rushed there immediately, leaving Joshua behind to make sure nobody left the dorms.
The drive was silent, apart from Minghao’s quiet crying and Jeonghan’s hushed reassuring.
Junhui was unconscious on the bed, wearing his performance outfit although his shirt and blazer had been removed. There was an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, chest rising and falling regularly.
Minghao was immediately by his side, taking his bandaged hand and placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.
Junhui’s face had a few cuts, none deep enough to scar but enough to cause concern. There was a larger one on his cheekbone that was held together by surgical tape and a few large bruises on his jaw and arms. His left arm had deeper cuts on, all of which looked deliberate. They were all held together by either tape or stitches. Junhui’s right hand was in a cast, the rest of the arm was completely bandaged up to halfway up his bicep. His foot was also bandaged up, his ankle was very bruised and swollen and his whole body was pale. His chest was heavily bruised, rising and falling slowly as he breathed.
Seungcheol sat on Junhui’s right side, gently running his hands through Junhui’s hair. “Hey, Junhui.” He whispered softly.
After about a minute, a doctor walked into the room. “I was informed the family of Wen Junhui had arrived. Well, it was bad. Not life-threatening but bad. He won’t be doing much for a few weeks.”
Seungcheol nodded. “That’s all the information we really need. Better to tell him when he’s awake.”
The doctor nodded and bowed. “Of course. I’ll leave you guys to it.”
Jeonghan bowed to the doctor as he left before sitting on the end of Junhui’s bed. “He’ll be okay, right?”
Seungcheol sighed. “I don’t know, Hannie. Hopefully, he will. He’s a strong kid.”
Minghao silently nodded his agreement, keeping his eyes on his injured boyfriend.
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Junhui woke up the next day. Unfortunately, nobody was at the hospital with him but the moment Seungcheol got the call he and Minghao rushed off to the hospital.
They got there in under ten minutes. Junhui had his eyes closed, oxygen mask still over his face, but the moment Minghao took his hand, he startled awake.
“Hey, HuiHui-Gē.” Minghao whispered, getting into the bed beside his boyfriend and holding him close.
Junhui removed the oxygen mask and smiled. “Hey, HaoHao.” He said, voice a little weak around the edges.
Minghao smiled more than he had in the past few days. “I was so worried. You have no idea.”
“Yes I do. I can imagine.” Junhui smiled, using a bandaged hand to brush the hair out of his face.
Minghao giggled and curled up against Junhui. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”
“I’m so glad I’m awake.” Junhui whispered, kissing the side of Minghao’s face gently. “I love you.”
“Love you too, GēGē.”
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Junhui was discharged at the end of the week. His hospital stay hadn’t been miserable, considering they’d struggled separating their Chinese members for more than an hour.
Everyone knew what was going on by the time Junhui woke up, so they were all really excited to get to see him again.
Minghao brought Junhui some fresh clothes and helped him get changed with his limited limb movement. He made sure Junhui was signing the discharge papers right before helping him down to the car with Seungcheol.
“It’s good to have you back, kid.” Seungcheol said to Junhui in the backseat as he started the engine.
“It’s good to be back.” Junhui replied with a smile.
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