Chapter Text
pain demands to be felt.
i.
Jongseong can count on his fingers the amount of times he felt something like regret. Something close to the word, some similar feeling he can't quite put a name to— something he can easily brush off, forgets and move on.
It's not that he's cold and emotionless, but because he had trained himself to be that way; keep your expectations low. No disappointments. No regrets. Fucking easy peasy.
"Everyone," He says sternly into the mic, shushing thousands of fans into listening to whatever he was supposed to say. He tried to swallow, forcing himself to stay calm and collected and that he has no reason to fuck it up. He had practiced the phrase in front of the mirror a couple of times earlier, maybe if he speaks it out loud enough, he might actually mean them; words foreign and syllables unfamiliar. His throat tightens. "Enhypen is six."
He almost chokes from the loud cheers and flashing of lights coming from the crowd in front of him. They weren't supposed to agree with him. Even though what he just said was a mere fact.
But— he catches Jungwon nodding from his peripheral vision, as if the younger was convincing himself more instead of every one else while the rest of them remained a neutral facade, even though Sunoo keeps a smile to his face that doesn't quite reach his eyes.
Jongseong tries so hard. Really, but each sound suffocates him, each flash of camera blurs his vision and he just wants to take it back— that those words doesn't mean anything. That they're just numbers and numbers weren't supposed to hurt you.
But maybe he counted wrong— that there's seven of them right now and Heeseung—
("Jongseong-ah," Heeseung calls out to him, his voice gentle and boyish, barely fourteen years old and yet he was so wise, he already knows how to deal with Jongseong's outburst. "Listen to me, give me five things that you can see."
"Rainbow." Jongseong responds after a couple of seconds, his eyes trails behind Heeseung, collecting data. "Clouds. A swing. A dog. And God."
Heeseung chuckles, "You can't see God, Seong-ah but fine, i'll take it. Now give me four things you can feel—")
And then there's nothing but silence. His eyes roams the crowd, each head bowed into their mobile phones. And then there's a gasp. Numerous. And distinct murmurs.
It agonizes him— not knowing what it is about. Maybe he said something wrong? maybe someone had a wardrobe malfunction?
His eyes met with Jungwon's confused one.
He could ask the crowd but he can't find the right words— until he sees one of their managers from the side of the stage.
ii.
"What was that about?" Riki asks in mild annoyance right after the dressing room door clicked shut.
"Maybe they're trying to surprise us or something." Sunoo responds while wiping the sweats on his forehead with a tissue. "Not like it hasn't happened before."
"But have you seen their faces, though." Jaeyun argued back. "Like they've seen a ghost."
"Hyung," Jongseong calls out to one of their managers, the same one from before. Not Yuki. Yuki's with Heeseung right now. "You know something."
The manager looks like he wants to vomit himself, "I'm not supposed to tell you anything until the concert's over but–"
"What hyung?" Jungwon asks, walking closer. "Tell us already."
The manager let out a tired sigh. "There has been an accident–"
"In the venue?" Jaeyun cuts him off.
The manager shakes his head no. "There has been an accident in Seoul— during Heeseung's fan meeting."
Sunoo gasps. "What? i was just on the phone with Heeseung hyung an hour ago. Are you sure it was his?"
"Is he alright, though?" Riki follows up. his voice filled with concern.
The manager breathes out a long, shaky inhale. "Heeseung's in critical condition."