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His head hit his pillow again and he sighed. He wanted to move, he wanted to calm the raging water in his mind, but it wasn’t working. The ceiling was his friend as it had been for the past…how long had it been?
Did it really matter how long it’d been? It wouldn’t change the fact that he brought nothing to Ateez, that he brought nothing but his vocals, and everyone knew that. He was only ever praised for his voice, but… why couldn’t he be praised for his dancing?
It wasn’t like he didn’t want to go ‘full out’ and ‘tear up the stage’ as San would say, but his high notes would always hold him back and management didn’t ever want him to sound strained: he didn’t want to sound strained either though but it was just–his groan echoed in the otherwise silent room.
Had any of his Hyungs even noticed that he wasn’t in a good mood? It wasn’t uncommon for him after a practice to slink off to his room and rot away, but lately he had been doing good. He’d come back and talk to someone; it was mainly Hongjoong as the man was near nocturnal nowadays and would be up even when he would come home late, but it was still someone.
What day was it even? Was it Wednesday where he was always informed of what everyone was doing the next few days by Wooyoung? Could it be Friday simply because he was drained of all energy?
A shiver wrecked his figure and he wondered if the ac unit was running. Could he peel himself from the blanket under him that he had melted to and check? Did he want to?
His attention slid to the door as he heard the lock click of their dorm and he couldn’t help but wonder who came home. Maybe it was all of them. Maybe it was none of them.
Cackling echoed in his ears and he closed his eyes, the realization that it was Wooyoung making him nauseous. He was going to have to move and at-least pretend to be ok. If Wooyoung was back then that meant Yeosang was back, and if Yeosang was back then that meant that San was probably back too.
The sound of talking made him open them back up with the false mask that he hadn’t worn since their trainee days slid onto his face, and by the time the knob turned he was already sitting upright against the wall scrolling through his phone.
“Hojong-yah!” Wooyoung yelled and a piece of his heart shattered as he caught the hug.
None of them had noticed.
Ice covered his heart.
The first incident happened when Mingi went on hiatus and there wasn’t anyone to try to comfort him because they were being swarmed with schedules. Between Kingdom, Imitation, and preparing for their comeback: there wasn’t any time for a member to check in on him.
Seonghwa was busy with Imitation, Yunho was a lead in the drama, San was trying to help members learn choreography, Wooyoung was with San most the time, Hongjoong was trying to perfect an already prepared song, and Yeosang was trying to keep whoever he could company.
Everyone was tired and he wasn’t trying to push anyone past their breaking point, but he did. He just seemed to also pick the worst one to do it to.
“Are you busy, Hyung?” He had asked after being given the go ahead to enter Hongjoong’s studio, and Hongjoong had scoffed.
“Jongho, I'm always busy. Don’t ask a dumb question like that. What did you need?” His teeth clamped into the inside of his cheek as he tried to figure out how to ask if they could talk. But Hongjoong ended up beating him to it.
“Did you need something at all, Jongho? You did right, if not I need you to not bother me as I need to get this finished. I’d rather not stay here until midnight again.” He took a step back and crossed his arms over his stomach.
Right, he was wasting his time. Again.
His tone was quiet, near nonexistent, that he was surprised Hongjoong could even hear him, “I just wanted to talk.” I miss you went unsaid and Hongjoong stared at him when he swiveled back around in his chair.
“You came all the way to my studio to ask if I could talk to you.” Suddenly he wasn’t with his Captain anymore and he was back at his old entertainment, his stance shifting slowly to prepare to bow, when he continued, “I don’t have time to talk Jongho. Some of us are busy, I’m busy. If you’re bored then go, i don’t know, practice going over your part for our next Kingdom stage.”
He bowed, ears ringing as he mumbled an apology and hurried out of the room. Right. He could make himself useful because he never was going to be anything like that, was he?
The ice spread further.
The second incident was whenever he had stumbled in the choreography and had ended up hitting the ground a bit too hard. Normally he would’ve just scrambled back upright but this time his leg kept buckling, and when he looked up he realized that none of them had actually stopped to help him but instead to go take a water break.
For a moment the mask was teetering on his skin and he almost broke down then. Already he could feel the tears brimming in his eyes, frothing to be released. His hands were shaking when he placed them against the ground and stood up with most his weight on his non-throbbing leg.
“Jongho!” Yunho called and he prepared himself for the coddling the members received if they fell, but it didn’t come, “Thanks for the water break Makdoongie!” What?
His brows scrunched and he turned slightly to see that Yunho was smiling at him. Smiling at him after he just fell and potentially messed up his knee more. Did they not realize how he wasn’t standing normally? Did they not notice how he was struggling to stand upright as it was beforehand but now he was near death-gripping the wall?
Yunho’s smile dimmed and for a second time he was prepared but it still didn’t happen, “Jongho if you can’t do the choreo we can change it. It isn’t that difficult.”
The words spread the ice from his heart further through his body and he struggled not to shiver.
“No it’s ok Hyung. I can do it.” His voice quivered in his response but he didn’t seem to notice.
Or maybe he didn’t care. It isn’t that difficult, Jongho. The voice slithered across his brain, coiling and squeezing as he fought against his rapidly increasing heartbeat.
They’d notice, they had to have caught on by now how his seams were fraying, and then one of them would hug him even if he weakly protested against it. Right? Wooyoung would come over any second now and coddle him with all he could, right?
Except nobody did and they all resumed their positions while he stood there with his heart crumbling more. Yunho not even looking at him anymore.
“Maknae hurry up, we’re waiting for you.” San teased and he bit back his whimper of protest to slide into his place in the formation. His head down and then they resumed.
Ice started floating through his veins.
There wasn’t a third incident or actually, there wasn’t anything for months. He would wake up, take a painkiller for his throbbing knee that soon turned into his knee and ankle, and then he would go about his schedule for the day.
But he couldn’t do it that day and he wasn’t able to figure out why.
“Makdoongie you’re going to make us late!” Wooyoung whined from outside the door and yet he still didn’t move. He couldn’t move at all and his body was aching and–a whimper ripped itself out of his chest as he realized that everything was catching up to him.
He hurried to yell back, “I can’t m–just go without me, I’ll get a ride over. I don’t want you guys to get in trouble for me.” For a moment there wasn’t any sort of response and then he heard their dorm door slam shut.
He left. Wooyoung actually left.
The ice cracked and he started gasping for air, tears clotting his vision as he realized that he was right. He was useless to Ateez.
They weren’t noticing which meant that they didn’t care. They didn’t care and–
“Jongho-yah?” He wasn’t real, he knew that he wasn’t real because his Mingi-hyung was on hiatus and wasn’t going to be back for–A hand grabbed his leg and he jerked, voice hoarse as he screamed. The ice gave way to fire at his knee and he cried harder.
“Jongho!” The hands gripped his face and he sobbed as he realized, yes this was real. Yes Mingi was holding his face and trying to calm him down.
“Fuck–What happened, why did–I’m here Jjong, I’m here now.” and then he was being forced into Mingi’s lap, his hands gripping onto his jacket as he broke.
Mingi’s arms pressed against his back firmly and muttered in his ear as he sobbed.
“I wasn’t–I’m not good, I’m sorry–” He gasped out, lungs spasming as he tried to breathe.
Mingi’s arms squeezed a bit tighter around him and that was that. Jongho broke apart in his lap and Mingi let him.
Eventually, after he physically couldn’t cry anymore, did Mingi rest his head on his shoulder.
“Jongho, you’re everything to us, to me. What are you talking about? You aren’t good? What is that supposed to even mean?” Mingi whispered, and he sniffled.
“I’m not–I’m not like Yunho-hyung or San-hyung who are constantly practicing in order to help us learn the choreography, plus they were both working overtime with Imitation and then Hwa-hyung.. him and Yeosang were trying to keep everyone together since tensions weren’t exactly calm and–” Mingi cut his rant off by pulling away a little.
“What do you mean tensions were high? We’ve worked under stress before, why were tensions high this time?” He seemed genuinely confused and it made his head hurt more.
“Hongjoong-hyung and I got into a ‘thing’ and the members noticed how upset he was. He kept avoiding us for the most part and then Seonghwa got involved which led to an argument between them and–It’s all my fault Hyung, I caused it.”
Mingi cupped his cheek again and he shivered, “Jjong, It wasn’t your fault. You all were stressed and arguments are bound to happen–”
He shook his head sharply and interrupted, “I caused it. I wanted to talk to Hongjoong and then he was busy so he told me to leave him alone but then I–”
His body was jerked back into a tight hug, “I’ll talk to Hyung. I’ll fix this. You need to just…relax, and let me enjoy my Maknae time.”
Mingi pulled him forward until the two of them were laying down on the bed, and then he was holding him even closer as if he would disappear.
“I’ve got you, ok?”
“My knee–Hyung it hurts so bad.” he sniffled into his shirt and the body tensed.
“I’ll handle all of it. I promise Jjong, just calm down and then I'll handle all this.”
His hands shook as he grasped onto his shirt and buried his face in the material, nodding pitifully into it.
Let him handle this, let him warm him back to the right temperature.