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Woojin doesn’t quite know to feel.
More accurately, he’s not sure how he’s allowed to feel. There’s something so incredibly selfish, about feeling bitter about his own ranking when everyone else is bidding tearful goodbyes and strained farewells. Sen and Yoonmin included — two people who he’d spent most of his time with for the last two weeks. It makes him nauseous, the thought of putting himself on the same level as the crushing feeling of defeat. But logic does nothing the quell the tears thick in his throat.
He can’t help it. He’s only human after all.
Tenth to sixteenth. It’s something akin to free-falling, tripping and landing flat on his face for everyone to see, getting up with a grazed forehead and smiling like everything okay when nothing is okay and it feels a little like he’s drowning.
He fiercely ignores the tears that threaten to fall when his name is called, that are still in his eyes when he takes a seat in the uncomfortable plastic chair and focuses his eyes on Sanghyeon to give himself something to do and less to worry about.
Woojin knows he’s not the only one. Sanghyeon too, has dropped. He’s still in the top eight, but Woojin can tell from the way his face scrunches up that he’s disappointed in himself. And how can he forget Liyu? Slipping just out of reach of those eight spots everyone was vying for — that had to hurt.
Half of the desperation he feels, bone-deep and insistent, is not even for himself. It's for the people he's been leaning on all this time, who also have nothing to show for it now.
It’s why when the tears do finally fall, after he’s dozed uncomfortably on the bus back and tuned out every conversation around him until the only voices he can hear are the doubts in his mind, Liyu’s the first person he seeks out.
They weren't in the same team anymore. Not this time. But Woojin can't help but drift towards him anyway.
He changes into his own pajamas back at his own room, taking comfort in the way the fabric drowns his lanky frame and swallows him whole. It's like an embrace, only not nearly as loving as one from Liyu, or even Sanghyeon. Then, he pads along the hall quietly, and knocks softly on Liyu’s door.
Woojin doesn’t know what to expect. He’s close with Liyu, sure. Yet, there was that lingering doubt that comes with all of the new friendships he's made here. At the end of the day, it was everyone for themselves, right? He’s never reached out to someone like this — more desperate than anything else.
He certainly doesn’t expect two voices to whisper hushedly after. Nor does he expect the sullen face of one Chung Sanghyeon to peek out, staring right back at him.
"Woojinie," He whispers, two hands on the door as he peeks into the dim light of the hallway. His voice sounds similarly groggy to Woojin's own, and he feels nothing but sympathy.
"I'm sorry," Woojin starts, panicking a little, wringing his hands together in discomfort, "I just wanted to talk to Liyu hyung. I'll leave you both alone. I'm sorry"
Sanghyeon pouts (At least, Woojin thinks. It's hard to make out his face in the dark), frowning.
"Don't be silly," He reaches out and grabs at Woojin's bony wrist, grip firm and warm, "You don't have to leave just because I'm here."
"But I thought—"
"Stop thinking," Sanghyeon sighs, pulling the door open enough to pull at Woojin's arm and get him to stumble inside, "That's half your problems, Woojinie."
The boy in question blushes a little. Sanghyeon has a way of reading people like that. Woojin was probably his biggest victim, after Liyu of course, wearing his heart on his sleeve for Sanghyeon to see and know as he pleases.
It's then that a quiet voice calls out from Liyu's corner of the room.
"Woojin-ah?"
It's so impossibly soft and fond, Woojin finds himself melting into a puddle of bones and insecurities. His feet stay frozen at the interest, and Sanghyeon is looking at him weirdly but he can't bring himself to care when there's tears burning in his eyes, everything building up at once until he lets out a strained sob, sudden and violent.
Liyu's padding over before he can even cover his face in embarrassment, grabbing both of Woojin's arms and looking up at him with a deep-seated concern etched onto his face.
"Oh, Woojin," He murmurs. A thumb reaches up to wipe a tear that's made it's way down his cheek, and Woojin only cries harder, "What's wrong."
"I—" The younger tries to speak, but his voice is caught in his throat again. Its a little like whiplash, voice getting stuck the same way it did on stage, when he was shaking with nerves and a pale white, "I just…"
Ever so patient, Liyu moves to grip his shoulder. It's impossible grounding. He doesn't say anything just yet, taking in Woojin's words and giving him time. Sanghyeon is there too, Woojin notices belatedly. His hand has made it's way to his back, rubbing it comfortingly.
"Why am I never good enough for them?" Woojin finally settles on asking. A question that barely scratches the surface of his fears, but is enough to just get them to understand.
"Don't say things like that." Sanghyeon snaps, voice so sharp that it has both Woojin and Liyu flinching. The older has dropped his hand from Woojin's shoulders, looking utterly despaired.
Woojin swallows thickly, "But it's true. Look at my score, Sanghyeon. Why was it so low? I gave my best and nobody cared enough and—"
"You're overthinking it, Woojin-ah," Liyu comforts gently. He sends a look Sanghyeon's way, who's looking down sheepishly.
"I didn't mean it like that, Woojinie," He admits, "I just don't like when you talk bad about yourself. How many times have we said that other people's opinions don't dictate your talent?"
Woojin laughs wetly, "You almost sounded mature then."
Sanghyeon hits his arm fondly, and even Liyu's giggles too, before saying, "He's right, you know. You did amazing up there. I know… no, everyone knows how worried you were. But you went out and performed anyway. The performance wouldn't have been the same without you Woojin-ah. If anyone's opinion matters, its ours. And I, personally, think you did amazing. So don't beat yourself up about it, okay?"
Liyu always seemed to have the right words today, so intricate and delicate with everything he said even in a language secondary to his own. If it was even possible, they made Woojin only cry harder, leaning his head down onto Liyu's shoulder, hand grasping Sanghyeon's where it was hanging behind him, gripping it tightly.
Sanghyeon's comfort on his back continued with his free hand, as he mumbled, "Let it all out, Woojinie."
It was a stark contrast to the energetic puppy he was used to on broadcast, or in practice rooms. They were all exhausted, bringing them down to the same level of quiet, comforting in touches rather than words. Woojin wasn't complaining though — it wasn't often he got time alone with them like this, without the pressure of any upcoming performance to crush his spirits any further.
So, he did. He sobbed, like a baby, tears staining Liyu's sleep shirt. Hand leaving red marks on Sanghyeon's palm from how tightly he was holding it. Even after five minutes or so, nobody tried to stop him. Sanghyeon simply grabbed a tissue from beside Haneum's bed and pat gently at Woojin's face, mumbling something about protecting his face from getting puffy. Liyu gently guides him to his bed, sitting him down on the comforter.
Woojin wraps his arms around Liyu's shoulder, clinging onto him for dear life. When Sanghyeon returns from putting the tissue in the bathroom waste-bin, he curls up at the end of the bed and rests his head in Liyu's lap, perfectly positioned to wipe more of Woojin's tears and grip his face gently, squishing his cheeks until his voice is muffled and they're all exploding into a fit of giggles.
When he's finally calmed down, face red and lips dry, Woojin pulls his head away from Liyu's shoulder and looks between the both of them — Sanghyeon, staring up at him from Liyu's lap, the older staring right back at Woojin with a fond gaze.
"Promise me something," He swallows, watching as their eyes widen, "No matter what happens. Can I… always come here? To you guys? I don't… I don't know a lot of people. And I know you both have each other. But, it's just a thought. You don't have to say anything, really—"
Sanghyeon sits upright, moving to ruffle Woojin's hair in an annoyed display of affection, stopping his words in their tracks.
"You're always welcome," Liyu replies, simply, "You always were."
"I told you, Woojinie. You think too much," The younger responds similarly, "Of course you can."
Woojin is so relieved, he could almost start crying again. As if on instinct, or perhaps seeing the way his lip starts trembling again, Liyu reaches forward and coos:
"Don't cry," He's stroking Woojin's hair and Sanghyeon laces their fingers together again and everything feels so right. Even if he doesn't debut, doesn't make it past the next round of eliminations, Woojin thinks he's content right here. Knows that if anything goes sideways, there's always an unconditional comfort waiting for him wherever Liyu and Sanghyeon are.
"I'm not crying."
"Your eyes are red!" Sanghyeon points out, smiling, "You're so crying."
"Am not!"
Sanghyeon pokes his tongue out at him and promptly bursts into laughter, throwing himself back on the bed.
Liyu sighs, affectionately, "You two are ridiculous."
"He started it, hyung!" Woojin whisper-yells, furrowing his eyebrows, trying his best to frown before his smile becomes impossible to hide, "He won't stop teasing me, even when I'm all sad and crying. You're evil, Sanghyeon."
"That was uncalled for," The younger crosses his arms.
"Was not."
Liyu hides his smile behind his hand at their antics. The two of them, something like a light at the end of the tunnel. Most days, he forgets that they're both three years younger than him. He feels so at home, when they're playing around, when Sanghyeon is teasing him or Woojin is coming to him for advice. He hopes, somewhere deep and selfish inside his heart, that the three of them all make it.
While the two bicker a little longer, Liyu glances at Haneum's empty bed. He's gone to Junil's for the night — not that Liyu can really fault him. An idea washes over him in the moment, and he interrupts another one of Sanghyeon's jabs to ask:
"Woojin-ah. Do you want to stay here tonight?"
The younger pauses, freezing. His mouth is a little agape and Liyu can see the cogs turning in his brain.
"Are you serious?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" Liyu shrugs.
Woojin seems to consider the offer. He's thinking too much once again, but Liyu doesn't press. Just lets him, waiting. Then, he nods. Sanghyeon, in his excitement, throws his arms around Woojin in a back-hug, knocking the breath out of him, and rests his chin on his shoulder.
"But hyung," He whines, arms tightening around Woojin's waist, "How are we all going to fit in this bed?"
Liyu opens his mouth, before closing it again and tilting his head in thought, "I didn't really think about that actually."
Woojin laughs, "We're all tired enough that it doesn't really matter, right? I don't know about anyone else but I could fall asleep standing up now, I think."
"That's true," Sanghyeon pipes up, finally releasing Woojin, "Can I take the middle?"
"If you get the middle, then I want the outside," Woojin counters.
"Are you guys saying you're leaving me with the wall space?" Liyu grumbles.
"Well hyung… If the shoe fits," The younger two tease.
Liyu finds he can't stay mad at them like this. Not when Woojin's finally smiling again, eyes disappearing as the apples of his cheeks rise. Or when Sanghyeon's finally back to his teasing ways, after coming to him so utterly dejected at his own drop in ranking, finally letting it slip that the way everyone had reacted to his score made him doubt himself, Liyu having to tell him over and over that they shouldn't have done that and it's not Sanghyeon's fault that anyone else's points dropped.
"Get in then," He caves, herding the two of them off the bed so he can neaten the covers and grab a couple spare blankets. Even in the depths of summer, something about the Boys Planet dorm is so sterile and callous that everything feels cold. It's often that Liyu finds himself shivering at night, curling up into a ball and willing the chill away.
Once the bed is made, he climbs under the covers and rolls towards to wall, staying on his side. Sanghyeon gets in next, laying an arm on Liyu's waist and snuggling into his chest. The older relishes in their soft moments like this — not many people get to see this side of him, so often forgetting how young he really is. Woojin kicks off his slippers and lays down last. He spoons Sanghyeon from behind, copying his earlier actions and securing his arms around his waist. All of their legs are tangled at the end of the bed and the duvet is barely covering the three of them and Liyu suddenly feels warmer than any other night he's slept here, but none of that is a problem. It's a comfort, having the two of them trust him and each other as much as they do.
They fall asleep like that easily. Woojin's asleep in minutes, tears long forgotten as he snores quietly and curls into Sanghyeon's back like a clingy koala. Sanghyeon's own doubts disappear as his eyes fall closed just after, hair tousled against Liyu's torso.
Liyu takes a little longer to fall asleep, watching to make sure that neither of them stay awake, plagued by problems he can't solve. When he's sure they've drifted off, he sighs, and rests his head against Sanghyeon's, worries all gone amidst the touches and hugs and endless comforts.
(When Haneum walks in only an hour later, shutting the door softly behind him, he finds the sight of the three of them crammed into one single bed impossibly adorable. He can't help but walk over until he's standing at the edge of Liyu's bed, and lean down to give each of them a quick kiss. Woojin, on the shoulder. Sanghyeon, a brief press to the cheeks. And Liyu, on the forehead, Haneum moving his hair back gently. The older stirs only slightly, cheeks curling up into a smile in his sleepiness.
If Haneum's lips linger a little longer on Liyu's skin than anyone else's, then nobody has to know.)