Chapter Text
His head was pounding. There was this immense amount of pain, like a screw twisting through his temples as he tried to focus on the bright computer screen. He was getting frustrated with himself. The drums sounded awkward, the beat was off, and the flow of the rap was not quite right. He couldn’t tell what was wrong. It was just off. He let out a loud sigh before resting back, his hands rubbing his dry eyes.
“Hyung. Can we continue tomorrow?” Mingi asked, tired eyes directed at Hongjoong. He knew how much of a perfectionist Hongjoong was, not letting himself rest until he got this beat right.
“You can leave. I need to finish this.” Hongjoong mumbled behind his hands. Mingi sighed disapprovingly, knowing his hyung would say this, but still disappointed. He was aware Hongjoong was overworking a lot, maybe too much lately, and Mingi could not do anything about it because he was way too stubborn.
“I’ll wait.” Mingi crossed his arms, leaning back on his chair. He hoped Hongjoong might change his mind if he was not the only one who had to stay over. Hongjoong removed his hands, looking at Mingi with heavy-lidded eyes.
“No, Mingi, you should really-“
“No, I said I’ll wait.” Mingi cut Hongjoong off, raising his eyebrows. Hongjoong might be stubborn, but Mingi was no better than him. “We can leave together. Plus, I want to watch you work on this track too.” He shrugged, turning his gaze back to the screen.
Hongjoong’s hand was hovering on the microphone that was attached to the system now, nodding before grabbing it. It was a demo track, so they didn’t need it to finalize it now, but Hongjoong was still too determined to at least finish this verse. He clicked the record button, rapping his part that he now knew by heart. He wrote this verse himself and recorded it plenty of times. Words were spilling from his mouth in a steady flow as he held the mic close to his lips. Until suddenly he stopped halfway through the lyrics. Silence filled the booth. The next line disappeared from his head completely.
“…Fuck.” The words just vanished, slipping from his mind in a second. He wrote this verse just two days ago. Why couldn’t he remember it?
He frowned, the only sound filling the room now being the background beat he had worked on for days.
“Hyung?” Mingi looked at Hongjoong, his tone filled with slight worry. Hongjoong looked back at him, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to remember what the next damn lyrics were. His heartbeat throbbed painfully in his ears. This has never happened to him before.
“Hyung… maybe we should stop for tonight,” Mingi told him, standing up from his seat slowly, eyes still glued on Hongjoong.
“Yeah... you are right,” Hongjoong mumbled quickly, eyes not meeting Mingi's as he felt embarrassed by this whole situation. He quickly unplugged his laptop and pressed it against his chest before standing up. Then he walked past Mingi without meeting his eyes.
Mingi gathered everything that was left in the room, and he didn’t mention that Hongjoong forgot his bags and his phone.
—
The car ride was silent. Hongjoong was watching outside the window while still holding his laptop closer to his chest. His mind raced through the lyrics over and over again, getting frustrated by how he still couldn’t remember the line.
“You are overworking yourself hard. That’s why.” Mingi spoke as if he had read his mind. He glanced at Hongjoong from the rearview mirror, one hand on the steering wheel. “You need to rest, hyung.”
“I’m fine,” Hongjoong stated shortly, eyes drifting back to the window. He also didn’t know why he insisted on overworking himself this much. He just didn’t know what else he could be doing. This was his passion and his dream.
“Let me feel all these senses,” Mingi mumbled, causing Hongjoong to frown at him. He met his eyes in the rearview mirror again.
“Huh?”
“That’s the missing lyric,” Mingi said. Then everything fit in Hongjoong’s head like a puzzle. Of course it was. He didn’t respond but nodded at his friend, feeling a slight embarrassment. He should have felt relieved now that he remembered it, but the uneasiness still lingered beneath his skin.
—
Wooyoung opened the door for him. Hongjoong was quite surprised that his housemate was awake at 3 am.
“You said you were going to come back before midnight.” His annoyed tone made Hongjoong feel guilty. Wooyoung was probably still awake because he was waiting for him.
“Sorry, work took over. I needed to finish the new song.” He dropped his stuff on the couch before making his way to his bedroom.
“I asked Mingi to finish early today. I swear to God he just can’t say no to y-“
“Wooyoung, please,” Hongjoong whined, looking back at him over his shoulder. Wooyoung’s expression softened slightly at the sight of his friend looking actually drained and kind of defeated.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I just get worried because I need you to take care of yourself. We were supposed to have a movie night tonight.” He pouted. It was clear that Wooyoung was missing spending time with his best friend. Hearing that made Hongjoong feel even guiltier because he, of course, forgot about the movie night too.
“I’m sorry… I promise tomorrow we will. I can invite Mingi, too?” He tried to smile, his tired eyes trying to focus on his friends’. He was so exhausted, feeling slightly dizzy from the lack of sleep. He gripped the door frame harder.
“Sounds good. I will order takeout, maybe get some drinks! Oh, can we also invite San too? He should be free tomorrow… Oh maybe… How about…?” Wooyoung chimed in far too energetically for 3 am, excitedly listing all the options and ideas.
Hongjoong just felt like he could hear portions of the phrases, not quite making them into full sentences in his head. He felt the world spinning around him; his friend was too distracted as he talked about whatever he was thinking about to notice him.
His head pounded even more. Suddenly, the only thing he could hear was his heart beating louder again. He could see Wooyoung’s mouth moving, but everything was in slow motion and sped up at the same time. He felt hot, knuckles turning white from gripping the doorframe.
“Hyung?” Wooyoung’s voice suddenly cut like a knife, pulling Hongjoong back to reality. He blinked twice, and abruptly everything went back to normal.
“What?” He asked, not quite understanding what had just happened. Stress, he thought.
“You look a little pale. Are you okay?” worry laced his voice. He didn’t move, not really knowing how he could help.
“Yeah, sorry, Wooyoung… I need to sleep. But please invite San, I also missed him.” He mumbled, closing the door without expecting an answer back, feeling too exhausted to hold the conversation.
The last thing he saw was the pillows before he crashed on the bed, quickly drifting to sleep.
—
Hongjoong woke up to the sounds coming from the kitchen. The frying sounds suggested that Wooyoung was preparing breakfast. He finally felt less tired. Not fully rested, but enough to function or at least to think straight.
He grabbed his phone, trying to ignore the still lingering headache as he turned it on to check the time. The bright screen caused a sharp, throbbing pain in his temples, causing him to wince sharply.
4 pm.
“Oh my god…” He scrambled to get out of bed abruptly, making his way to the kitchen. The quick movement made his head pound harder, a knife through his temples.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” He burst through the door, still feeling disoriented from just waking up. Wooyoung turned around to face him from the stove, where he was stirring something on. “It’s four!”
“Well, good morning to you, too.” Wooyoung rolled his eyes playfully, amused by the annoyed expression on Hongjoong's face. “You were sleeping peacefully. Plus, Mingi texted me he won’t be able to go to the studio today, so I just let you rest.” He shrugged.
Hongjoong rubbed his eyes with his fisted hands. Wooyoung was right; he needed this sleep.
“I'm starving.” He walked next to his friend, glancing at the pan on the stove. The smell was filling the kitchen deliciously.
“Instead of ordering, I decided to cook for us. I wanted to make your favorite hyung.” Wooyoung grinned proudly, excited to show off his cooking skills. Hongjoong could feel his stomach growling as he looked at the stir-fried noodles. “San and Mingi will come soon, too,” he added.
They prepared the living room for all four of them, drinks on the coffee table, and blankets scattered around. Hongjoong, however, still felt tired even after sleeping almost 13 hours. Carrying the plates felt like a heavy task, each plate stacked on top of the other, adding more to the weight on his hands. After placing each item on the table, he found himself sitting on the couch to rest for a couple of minutes.
“You still seem tired.” Wooyoung frowned, placing the other plates on the table.
“I’m fine. Just a headache.” He winced a little as if mentioning the pain made it worse. He watched Wooyoung bring the cutlery, dropping it all on the table messily. He hissed at the sound of the metals clinking together, another sharp pain striking his temples.
While Wooyoung was portioning the food on the plates, Hongjoong went back to the kitchen to bring the glasses. He heard the door ring from a distance, followed by some footsteps. They all felt very far from where he was standing near the counter. He was trying to ignore the room spinning around him, his vision shaky and blurry. He looked down at his hands holding the glasses, and suddenly his limbs felt very long.
He could feel the hot sensation crawling from his spine to his face, spreading from his arms to his fingertips like a burning fire. His breathing got faster, and his heart was beating in his ears on a loud thud. He could feel he was frozen… or was he moving? He looked around, eyes moving rapidly to every corner of the kitchen that suddenly felt unfamiliar. Who moved all the furniture?
The fingers holding the glasses tightened around them as he stood still, his body feeling very stiff. His heart was beating now in his throat. Loud pumps. Too loud.
“Hongjoong?”
He heard the voice coming from a distance. Like miles away. It sounded like Wooyoung, but also not really like him. Was he screaming? He turned towards the door where Wooyoung was standing, but everything felt like it was in slow motion. His friend looked scared. He couldn’t really tell.
“Oh my god!” Another scream from his friend, but this time it felt closer. Then a sharp pain shot up from his feet like a lightning bolt, causing him to look down.
Blood. Everywhere. Glasses were scattered around the floor, and he was standing on them. They were cutting under his feet. He flinched back, every step hurting like hell before falling back and collapsing to the floor. Then the situation registered completely. Almost at the same time as the complete pain.
Then he shouted too. Like he suddenly got aware of every little piece of glass that was in his skin. Too aware and too painful.
He heard more footsteps rushing towards him. Mingi hoisting him up and San stopping right at the door next to Wooyoung.
“Jesus!”
He heard Mingi gasping, looking at the scene. There was blood everywhere.
“Should we call the ambulance?” He heard Wooyoung say, panic lacing his voice. He sounded like he was crying.
“No!” Hongjoong protested with a scream. Suddenly, the thought made him scared even more than what had just happened.
“Bring me a cloth. Will you?” Mingi asked, his voice trembling, carrying Hongjoong to the living room.” And some tweezers.” He tried to sound calm, but it was evident from his voice that he was close to a breaking point.
Hongjoong was shaking now, his heart beating too fast, his mind racing even faster, tears in his eyes.
“How long have you been standing on them?” San asked, horrified, rushing towards the couch where they were settled. Hongjoong looked at him, confused. He didn’t know.
“I don’t know,” he replied shakily. Tears were falling from his cheeks, and the stinging pain was very uncomfortable now.
Then he felt another sharp pain in his feet before his eyes snapped there. Mingi was cleaning the blood with what seemed like a wet cloth. “Ah!” he reacted with a wince when he pulled the first glass shard with the tweezers.
“Stay still, Hongjoong,” Mingi said, pulling another one out. Hongjoong was twitching and squirming at the stinging feeling. San was holding him, trying to keep him grounded, but Hongjoong couldn’t focus on anything but the pain which suddenly amplified ten more times.
His heart was beating incredibly fast, like it was going to rip through his ribs, each beat somehow faster than the last. He shakily placed one of his hands on his chest, breathing shallowly through his tears. A broken whine slipped through his trembling lips. “I think I’m going to faint,” he murmured, so quiet it almost got lost in the room. But San heard him.
He looked down, pushing Hongjoong’s hair back gently despite his cold, trembling hands.
“You feel really hot, hyung.” He said, his heart breaking at the sight of the wincing on Hongjoong’s face every time Mingi pulled another shard.
He heard Wooyoung step out of the room, followed by the loud clinks of glass shards thrown into the bin from the kitchen, the sound barely covering his sobs. Twenty minutes passed like eternity, Mingi shakily trying to pull every piece of glass out while San held a flash to help him see better. Hongjoong’s breathing slowly began to settle, his sobs fading into shaky gasps each time another piece was removed.
“All done.” Mingi finally said, voice tight. He stood up, avoiding eye contact, making his way back to the kitchen to help Wooyoung. San saw the glimpse of the tears brimming in Mingi’s eyes, but he didn’t mention it.
San turned to look at Hongjoong, who weirdly went silent all of a sudden. “Are you okay?” he asked, still horrified. Hongjoong looked disoriented. He stared at his puffy eyes, expecting a response, but Hongjoong was looking at a distance, his gaze blank and empty.
“Hongjoong?” He asked, trying to get the older man's attention, gently shaking his shoulders. It felt like the question wasn’t even reaching him.
“Yes…” Hongjoong answered eventually, eyes focusing back on San. Weird, San thought. Hongjoong seemed like he wasn’t reacting to pain anymore. He looked like his entire system just… shut down.
“Are you still in pain?” San asked, frowning. Hongjoong didn’t answer immediately; instead, his gaze became unfocused. Then he blinked slowly.
“No,” He said quietly. Barely audible.
San hesitated. “Hongjoong?”
However, Hongjoong was already shifting to the side of the couch, gravity pulling him down the couch. “I’m tired.” His eyes felt very heavy, and it felt like even standing straight was a hassle now.
“Hey, stay with me for a second,” San said, gently placing his hand on Hongjoong’s ankle.
But Hongjoong was slowly drifting off to a state of sleep. His breathing was steady but slightly shallow.