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"Soobin, hurry up! We're going to be late!" Yeonjun's voice echoed through the crowded hallways of Big Hit Entertainment. The young boy's heart raced as he rushed to keep up with his group's frantic pace, his heavy dance bag sliding off his shoulder with every stride.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Soobin panted, his eyes scanning the corridor for any sign of their practice room. The walls were plastered with posters of their group, TXT, and the pressure to perform well today was suffocating. They had a big performance coming up, and the choreography was still giving them trouble.
"Guys, slow down," he called out, his voice barely audible over the stomping of their sneakers on the linoleum floor. But his pleas fell on deaf ears, lost in the sound of echoes and distant laughter. The five members of TXT were a tight-knit group, but today, their unity felt like a whirlwind pushing him further behind.
Finally, the practice room door loomed ahead, and Soobin took a moment to catch his breath. He pushed the door open with a sigh, his eyes immediately drawn to Hueningkai, who was already stretching out on the floor. "You're the last one," Hueningkai said without looking up, a smirk playing on his lips. Soobin rolled his eyes, "Always the welcoming committee."
The room buzzed with energy as the members greeted each other, their laughter bouncing off the walls. Soobin felt his own spirits lift a little, the warmth of their camaraderie briefly chasing away the shadows of exhaustion that had been clinging to him all day.
Their choreographer, a stern-faced woman named Mina, clapped her hands sharply. "Alright, let's get started," she announced, her voice cutting through the chatter like a knife. The group fell into their positions, the beat of their latest track filling the room. Soobin took a deep breath and focused, pushing his fatigue aside.
The practice began, a blur of motion and sweat. They danced, they sang, and they stumbled. They corrected each other with gentle nudges and playful jabs. Soobin felt his body moving on autopilot, his mind racing through the steps, trying to keep up with the relentless rhythm.
And then it happened. In the midst of a particularly intricate move, Soobin's foot slipped out from under him, and he stumbled forward. His eyes widened in horror as he watched his sneaker come down hard on Hueningkai's foot. Hueningkai yelped, his eyes snapping shut in pain.
The music screeched to a halt, and the room was filled with the sound of the members' gasps. Soobin froze, his heart in his throat. He looked down at Hueningkai's face, twisted in pain, and felt his own stomach drop. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, his voice thick with guilt.
But before he could apologize further, the room erupted. "What the hell, Soobin hyung?" Beomgyu shouted, his fists clenched. "You're so careless!"
"This is the third time this week!" Taehyun added, his voice rising in frustration. "What's wrong with you?"
Soobin's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, his eyes darting around the room as the others chimed in with their complaints. "Guys, I said I'm sorry," he tried to defend himself, his voice shaking.
But the barrage of accusations didn't stop. "You're always tired, always messing up," Yeonjun said, his voice tinged with disappointment. "We can't keep carrying you like this."
The words hit Soobin like a ton of bricks. He had been pushing himself too hard, trying to keep up with the demanding schedule and the pressure to be perfect. The exhaustion had been building up, but he had ignored it, not wanting to let his group down.
With a trembling hand, he bent to help Hueningkai up, who winced but managed a weak smile. "It's okay, Soobin hyung," he said, gritting his teeth. "Let's just keep practicing."
But Soobin had had enough. The weight of their words crushed him, and his eyes filled with unshed tears. "I'm sorry," he said again, his voice cracking. "I'm just so tired."
The room went silent, the members exchanging awkward glances. They knew their leader was under a lot of pressure, but they had never seen him like this. "Soobin," Hueningkai started, his voice gentle, but Soobin didn't let him finish.
He screamed, the pent-up frustration and exhaustion exploding from his chest. "I'M TIRED, OKAY?!" His voice reverberated off the walls, leaving an echo that seemed to hang in the air longer than it should have. The sudden silence was deafening. The only sound was Soobin's harsh breathing. His chest heaved, and his eyes searched the faces of his bandmates, all looking at him with a mix of shock and concern.
Taehyun took a tentative step forward, "Soobin, we didn't mean—"
"Don't," Soobin held up a hand, cutting him off. His vision blurred, and the room started to spin. He staggered, the world around him fading to black.
The next thing he knew, he was being cradled in someone's arms, the cold floor against his cheek. He could hear the panicked shouts of his bandmates, their footsteps racing around the room. "Soobin, Soobin!" They called out, their voices muffled and distant. He tried to move, but his body felt like lead.
"Call an ambulance!" He heard the choreographer, Mina, yell into her phone. His mind swam with confusion, the edges of his consciousness fading in and out. He was vaguely aware of the room spinning, the lights above becoming a blur of white and fluorescent.
The ambulance ride was a blur of sirens and flashing lights. The cool air stung his face, and the medic's calm voice was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. "You're okay," the medic reassured him. "You've just had a panic attack. We're taking you to the hospital to check you over."
At the hospital, Soobin was hooked up to machines, his heart racing as the doctor listened to his chest and shone a light into his eyes. The doctor's voice was soothing, but the words didn't register. All he could think about was the look on his bandmates' faces when he passed out. The fear, the worry.
The doctor's voice grew more insistent, and Soobin realized he had zoned out. "You need to rest," the doctor said firmly. "Your body is under a lot of stress. No practicing for a week, understand?"
Soobin nodded, his eyes welling up with tears again. "But the performance..."
The doctor's expression softened. "Your health comes first. Your group will understand."
The words echoed in his mind as his bandmates filed into the hospital room, their eyes red from crying. They looked so scared, so worried. Soobin felt his resolve crumble. Maybe it was time to face the fact that he couldn't do it all. Maybe it was time to let them carry him, just for a little while.