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The fluorescent lights of the practice room hummed with a clinical coldness that seemed to vibrate right through Jeno’s skull. They were filming the behind-the-scenes content for their latest comeback, and while the cameras captured a polished version of hard work, the reality was much grittier. Jeno was a ghost in his own body. Having come straight from a grueling overnight drama shoot with Jaemin, he had reached a level of exhaustion where his vision blurred at the edges. While Jaemin had retreated into a quiet, observant stillness—leaning heavily against a wall to conserve energy—Jeno forced himself to stay upright.
"Okay, let's take ten!" Haechan called out, his voice cutting through the heavy air. The room shifted into casual chaos. Haechan, ever the energizer, tried to wrap Renjun in a suffocating hug, only to be met with a dry, "Really..." and a judging shove. Unbothered, Haechan turned to Chenle, who was currently lauging with Mark while watching their recorded dance practice.
"Jeno-ya!" Chenle’s voice was high and sharp, cutting through Jeno’s brewing migraine.
Chenle bounded over, his energy completely mismatched with the heavy silence radiating from the corner. He flopped down next to Jeno, his sweaty shoulder bumping into Jeno’s with a force that made the older boy flinch. To Chenle, Jeno was the immovable object, the one who would always catch him, the one who tolerated every poke and prod. "Jeno, look at Mark. Don't you think he made a mistake here?" Chenle laughed, shoving his phone inches from Jeno’s face. Jeno didn't look. He kept his eyes on his water bottle. "Not now, Chenle. I’m tired."
"Oh, come on! Just one look," Chenle persisted, his oblivious nature preventing him from reading the dangerous tension in Jeno’s posture. He leaned closer, invading Jeno’s space until their sides were pressed together, and began playfully poking Jeno’s ribs. "Aigoo, look at him." "Chenle, stop.." Jeno muttered, his voice dropping into a low, jagged register. "Wow, you're really no fun today. Just one look, don't be so boring! Look how funny Mark is." Chenle insisted, his voice getting louder as he tried to goad a reaction out of his favorite hyung. Something inside Jeno snapped—a clean, violent break of his usual patience. "I SAID STOP IT!" Jeno didn't just shout; he roared. He wrenched his face away from Chenle’s hand and shoved the younger boy back with enough force that Chenle’s phone skittered across the polished floor.
The room went deathly silent. Mark froze with his hand in the snack bag. Jisung, who has been talking to the camera in the corner, turned with wide, frightened eyes. Jaemin stood up slowly, his exhaustion vanishing in favor of sharp, protective alertness. "Just... shut up for once." Jeno hissed, his chest heaving as he loomed over a stunned Chenle. The "gentle giant" was gone, replaced by someone raw and unrecognizable. "I’ve been awake for twenty-four hours. My head feels like it's exploding, and all you do is yap and pull at me and demand my attention. I don't care about the video. I don't care about your jokes. Just stay away from me, Chenle. You’re being incredibly annoying."
Chenle sat on the floor, his hands braced behind him. The nonchalant, playful mask had shattered, leaving his face pale and his eyes shimmering with a sudden, stinging hurt. He looked up at Jeno, waiting for the "just kidding" or the eye-smile that always followed a reprimand, but it didn't came.
Jeno grabbed his hoodie, his movements jerky and filled with a cold, vibrating rage. He didn't look back as he slammed the practice room door, the sound echoing like a finality against the silence. Chenle looked at his phone, lying face-down on the floor, and for the first time in a long time, the loudest member of the group had absolutely nothing to say.
The practice room felt like a vacuum, the air sucked out by the force of Jeno’s exit. The camera crew awkwardly lowered their equipment, sensing that the "behind-the-scenes" footage had just captured something far too real. Mark didn't hesitate. He dropped his madeleine, his face instantly shifting from the laughing leader to the responsible captain. He shared a brief, heavy look with Haechan. For all of Haechan's mischievousness, he was the first to recognize when to be serious and when to be not. Without a word, the two of them slipped out the door, headed for the only place Jeno ever went when the world felt too small: the rooftop.
The air outside was biting, but Jeno didn't seem to feel it. He was bent over the railing, his fingers white-knuckled as they gripped the cold metal. His breathing was still shallow, his shoulders trembling with the weight of a fatigue that ran deeper than bone.
"Jeno-ya." Mark’s voice was soft. Haechan stayed a few paces back, his usual playfulness replaced by a quiet, respectful distance. He knew that right now, Jeno didn't need a hug—he needed air.
"Go away, Mark." Jeno rasped, his voice cracking. "I’ll be back in five minutes. I just... I can't be in there."
"You're not going back in there." Mark said firmly, stepping up beside him. He placed a hand on Jeno’s shoulder, ignoring the way Jeno flinched. "I'm calling it. We're finishing practice early. You’re going back to the dorm so you can sleep."
"We have the showcase—"
"The showcase can wait. You have to prioritize your health." Haechan chimed in, his voice uncharacteristically serious. He stepped forward, leaning against the railing next to Jeno. Jeno finally let out a long, shuddering breath, his head dropping forward. "I shouldn't have yelled at him. I know he didn't mean it. It’s just... the noise. The touching. It felt like needles."
"He'll understand," Mark reassured him, squeezing his shoulder. "But you need to have a good sleep before you can talk to him. Let’s get you home."
Back downstairs, the silence was even more suffocating. Chenle was still sitting on the floor, staring at the spot where Jeno had stood. His phone lay forgotten a few feet away. Jisung was standing awkwardly beside Chenle, thinking of ways to soothe him.
Renjun sighed. He walked over and sat down cross-legged in front of Chenle. "Lele..." Renjun said softly. Chenle looked up, his eyes glassy. "I was just joking. He always likes it when I joke." "He does..." Jaemin intervened, approaching them. He had been observing the whole thing with a heavy heart, knowing exactly how Jeno’s brain was misfiring from the movie set exhaustion. "But Chenle, you have to stop and think for a moment. You saw him this morning. You saw that he couldn't even keep his eyes open."
"I just thought... if I made him laugh, he’d forget how tired he was for a second. I didn't mean to make it worse." Chenle whispered, his voice small. "Jeno isn't like the rest of us." Jaemin said, crouching down so his gaze was level with Chenle’s. "When he’s at his limit, he doesn't just fade into the background like I do. He absorbs everything—the tiredness, the noise, the pressure—and he just endures until he can’t hold it anymore."
Renjun reached out and pulled Chenle into a firm hug. "He loves you, Lele. But even Jeno has a breaking point. You kept pushing when he was clearly asking for peace, and that shout was just him finally reaching his limit." Chenle nodded slowly, a tear finally escaping. "I messed up," Chenle admitted, his voice thick. "You did," Jaemin said, not sugarcoating it but offering a small, tired smile. "But he's Jeno. He’ll forgive you. Just... give him the one thing he asked for right now."
"Space?" Chenle asked.
"Space." Jaemin confirmed. "And maybe some food for when he wakes up."
The rooftop air was bitingly cold, but it served its purpose in numbing the jagged edges of Jeno’s nerves. After a few more minutes of heavy silence, Mark and Haechan successfully guided him back downstairs. Mark had already made the decision: practice was over. The van ride back to the dorm was draped in a heavy, velvet silence. Jeno slumped on the seat beside their manager, his forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window. He looked exhausted, the adrenaline of his outburst having completely evaporated, leaving behind a hollow shell of guilt. Beside him, Renjun sat in his usual "sleepy brother" state, but he remained awake just enough to keep an eye on Jeno.
Jisung sat in the back, fidgeting with his phone; while stealing some glances on the back of Jeno’s head with a worried look.
"Jeno-ya" Renjun whispered, his voice barely audible over the hum of the engine. He didn't try to hug him—he knew Jeno was touched-out—but he reached over and draped his own padded jacket over Jeno’s shivering frame. "Don't think about it right now. Just close your eyes. We're almost there." Jeno let out a shaky breath, pulling the jacket closer. "I shouldn't have shoved him, Injun-ah. I saw his face. I’ve never seen him look at me like that."
"He's a tough kid." Renjun reassured him softly, leaning his head back. "And he's smart. He’ll realize he pushed too hard. But you won't be able to fix anything if you're hallucinating from sleep deprivation. Just sleep."
Jisung leaned forward slightly from the back seat, his voice tiny. "Chenle will be okay, hyung. Just rest."
Jeno nodded weakly, the rhythmic passing of streetlights across his face finally lulling his brain into a forced surrender. When the van finally pulled up to the dorm, Jeno was barely conscious. Renjun and Jisung had to practically haul him out of his seat, his legs feeling like lead weights that didn't quite belong to him anymore. As they entered the dorm, the familiar scent of home did nothing to wake him, if anything, the warmth made his eyes even heavier. Jeno began stumbling through the narrow hallway, his shoulder clipping the wall as he navigated toward his room in a hazy, autopilot daze. The moment his weight hit the mattress, his body seemed to cave in, surrendering to a sleep so deep it felt more like a blackout than a rest.
An uncharacteristic quiet settled over the dorm the next morning, it was a soft, apologetic silence, as if the walls themselves were trying not to wake Jeno up. Jeno had slept for nearly fourteen hours straight—the kind of heavy, dreamless sleep that only comes after a total collapse. When he finally blinked his eyes open, the first thing he noticed wasn't the lingering headache, but the rich, spicy aroma drifting through the crack in his door. It was the scent of home—specifically, the scent of Chenle’s cooking. Jeno walked out of his room, his hair messy and eyes still a bit puffy. He stopped at the kitchen entrance. The morning light was soft, reflecting off the countertops where Chenle was moving with uncharacteristic quietness. There was no loud yapping, no dolphin-pitched laughter. Just the rhythmic clack-clack of a spatula against a pan. On the table sat a steaming bowl of soup. Beside it was a plate of stir-fried eggs with tomato, glistening and soft—Jeno’s favorite comfort food.
Chenle turned around, holding a ladle. When he saw Jeno, he froze. His usual straightforward gaze was hesitant, flickering with a touch of the previous night's hurt before settling into something soft. "You're awake." Chenle said, his voice unusually low. He didn't run over. He stayed by the stove, respecting the space he had so loudly invaded the day before. "I... I made breakfast. Or lunch. I didn't know what time you'd wake up."
Jeno felt a sharp pang of guilt in his chest. Seeing Chenle this subdued felt wrong—it was a reminder of the shout that had silenced him.
"Chenle.." Jeno started, his voice gravelly from sleep. He stepped into the kitchen, closing the distance slowly. "About yesterday... I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. I shouldn't have pushed you. I was just—"
"You were tired..." Chenle interrupted, shaking his head. He set the ladle down and finally looked Jeno in the eye. "I was annoying. I didn't listen when you told me to stop. Jaemin-hyung explained it to me... I'm sorry I pushed you to your limit." Chenle gestured toward the table. "Eat the soup while it's hot - it will warm your body up. And the eggs are... well, they're better than Jisung's burned toast." Jeno sat down, picking up the chopsticks. He took a bite of the eggs, the familiar, savory-sweet taste grounding him instantly.
Chenle hovered for a second, then tentatively sat in the chair across from him. He kept a deliberate, respectful distance—not squeezing into Jeno's space or leaning against his shoulder as he usually would. He watched Jeno take a large spoonful of tomatoes, his eyes wide and tracking Jeno’s every expression with a mix of hope and lingering caution. "Is it... is it okay?" Chenle asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft. He bit his lip, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of a napkin. "I was worried the broth was too spicy since your stomach was empty, or that I made the eggs too salty. I tried to be careful with the seasoning."
Jeno looked up, a genuine eye-smile finally breaking across his face—the first real one in days. The tension that had held his shoulders captive for a week finally dissolved, replaced by a wave of warmth for the boy who had clearly spent his morning trying to take care of him. He reached across the table, his hand finding Chenle’s on the tabletop and squeezing it gently, anchoring them both. "It’s perfect, Lele. Not salty at all." Jeno murmured, his heart finally feeling light again as he took another comforting bite of the eggs. "It tastes like exactly what I needed. Thank you for cooking for me."
The energy at the Beat It Up showcase was electric, a stark contrast to the heavy, tear-streaked silence of the practice room just a few days prior. The stage lights were blinding, and the screams of the fans filled every corner of the venue. The Dreamies stood center stage, breathless and glowing after an intense performance, their chemistry more synchronized than ever. During the talk segment, the members fanned themselves and scanned the rows of neon green lightsticks. In the front row, a fan held up a bright, glittery banner that caught Jeno’s eye. It read: "Any TMI during your dance practice?"
Mark leaned into his microphone, laughing. "TMI? We have a lot of those. Most of them involve Haechan-ah being a menace or Jisung falling asleep standing up." Haechan gasped, offended. "I am the soul of the practice room! Renjun-hyung, tell them!" "You're a headache.." Renjun deadpanned, though he was smiling. Jeno stepped forward, his eyes crinkling into that famous, crescent-moon eye-smile that the fans loved. He looked over at Chenle, who was standing a few feet away, looking sharp and confident. "Actually.." Jeno said, his voice smooth and steady through the speakers. "I have a good one. A few days ago, I was really, really tired. I came straight from filming and was feeling a bit down."
He paused, the crowd letting out a collective "Aww." He caught Chenle’s gaze, and for a second, the thousands of fans disappeared. It was just a shared moment of understanding between the two of them.
"Chenle cooked for me." Jeno announced with a wide, proud smile. "He made me soup and tomato-egg stir-fry. It was the best meal I’ve had in a long time. It gave me the strength to be standing here today." The crowd erupted into deafening cheers. Chenle’s ears turned a bright shade of pink, and he ducked his head, a shy but genuine grin breaking across his face. He didn't say anything for once; he just looked at Jeno with eyes full of affection.
Beside them, Jisung leaned into his own mic, a knowing smirk on his lips as he observed his two members. "It’s true. I smelled it from the hallway and he wouldn't even let me have a single bite. Very exclusive service for Jeno-hyung." Jeno laughed, the sound bright and free, and reached out to ruffle Chenle’s hair as they moved into the next song.