Archive of Our Own

It wasn’t that late when Jongho’s phone rang. So far, the day had been relatively normal. Jongho’s day had been packed with dance and vocal practices as well as the occasional filming of social media content that was expected from him as an idol. Overall, not too taxing in the sense that Jongho was so used to the exhaustion following the day that he wasn’t able to imagine a different life.

Point was, Jongho had always thought that big, life-changing messages somehow held a power over the universe and came with foreboding, messy days and not ordinary ones. At least that’s how it had always been portrayed in movies and books. But as it was, Jongho hadn’t expected bad news today and maybe that was why he had been caught so off guard by them.

Jongho answered the phone without checking who was calling because honestly, he wasn’t thinking much about it and it was mostly likely one of his friends asking for his evening plans. Looking back, Jongho concluded that that was his first mistake.

Hongjoong and Wooyoung both still weren’t home. Jongho actually wasn’t sure what their plans had been because either he had forgotten in the chaos that work had been the last few weeks or they hadn’t told him. Maybe being alone was his second mistake, or rather everything would’ve turned out different if he hadn’t been.

“Hyung”, Jongho startled at the voice of his younger brother. They rarely ever called each other so even if he’d had to guess who could’ve been calling except for his members, his brother or generally his family would’ve been on the bottom of the list. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

More often than not, his brother and him texted and even then, it was mostly more a sign of courtesy and respect than actual chatter between brothers. Both of their lives were busy, practically always on the move and Jongho couldn’t blame his brother (nor himself) for their slowly dwindling relationship. Calling out of the blue was a great deviation from normal so Jongho was immediately on alert.

“Sure, what’s wrong?” Jongho shuffled on the coach where he had been slouching before. He figured the theme of conversation would be more serious and thought it more appropriate to at least sit up even though his brother couldn’t see him. It was silent for a few moments too long, as if he had to prepare himself for his next few words.

“Dad is sick.” Jongho blinked, processing the words. A weird, queasy feeling in his stomach erupted and he felt like throwing up. It was weird for his brother to call him just because his father had caught a cold or whatever. His father had always been the type of guy to keep sickness or weakness quiet and had raised his sons to follow his principles. So, honestly, he couldn’t figure out why his brother was even informing him of this.

“Why are you telling me this?” Jongho had always been blunt when it came to his family, none of them were known for dancing around the topic. Especially since they mostly ignored the elephant in the room (read: emotions) in general.

When talking with his group members (or strangers and fans), Jongho had learned to turn down his bluntness. Mostly because Wooyoung and Seonghwa seemed upset about his ignorance. It wasn’t like he didn’t care about it; it just had taken him a bit of time to process that talking about feelings and daily activities was a sign of caring for each other. And Jongho really wanted to care for his friends (read: second family), so he was trying to show it to them in a way that was totally unknown to him before (and frankly quite terrifying since talking always brought a vulnerability that Jongho despised).

“Hyung”, his brother’s voice wavered a bit, giving away a desperation before he managed to stabilize it again. Jongho felt as if he was missing an important part to the story. “He’s really sick. We’re going to the hospital tomorrow so the doctors can decide if they’re able to start chemotherapy right away.”

Suddenly, Jongho was really glad that he was already sitting on their couch as it felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under his feet. Chemotherapy. Cancer, his brain usefully supplied and he kinda wished it hadn’t. Living in ignorance had never seemed more peaceful to him than now.

He didn’t know why his little brother was calling him right now to deliver the bad news. Why his mother or father hadn’t taken it upon him to inform him and instead passed the burden onto him. Jongho didn’t even know why he was only being told now. How long that diagnosis had been hanging over his father and why no one had deemed it necessary to send him a warning about it even if it hadn’t been confirmed.

And Jongho was very aware that he was always busy. That his family hated to impose on the little free time he had and always waited for him to call or visit. (Which hurt, but Jongho wasn’t a little child anymore, so he hated that sometimes he still felt like one.) And Jongho was aware that it wasn’t archery season and that that was why his younger brother was even visiting their parents right now. Most likely, it wasn’t them trying to exclude him on purpose and with different timing it might have just as well been him calling his younger brother. (As it should’ve been, he felt guilty for not being able to spare his younger brother the burden.)

Jongho had been quiet for a few moments too long as he pondered over everything. His brother hadn’t said anything for just as long, but Jongho could practically feel his uneasiness rising with every passing second.

“We’re fine, you don’t have to come over. We know you’re busy.” Jongho doesn’t miss the way his brother was talking for his entire family. Jongho also doesn’t miss the way he was immediately giving him an out, as if Jongho didn’t even want to care and step up to visit his maybe dying- Jongho hysterically pushed away this thought as quickly as possible because it didn’t help at all- father.

“I’ll send you over some money.” And Jongho was a coward and absolutely not ready to confront this new reality. Not ready to drop every single thing right now and turn up on the doorstep of his parent’s home just so they could all awkwardly sit in the living room in silence because none of them had the courage to talk about what to do when medicine fails. Besides, there were so many interviews planned in tomorrow’s schedule. (Jongho ignored the fact that Hongjoong would personally see to it that every single one of his responsibilities would be cleared because for that to happen, he would’ve to talk to Hongjoong about it in the first place.)

“You don’t have to”, his younger brother reminded him. And Jongho knew that of course. South Korea’s healthcare system was easily covering doctor’s appointments and even the personal contribution wasn’t high enough that his parents would struggle to pay it. It covered eastern and western medicine the same as well, so there truly wasn’t a need to. But Jongho felt like he had to do something and being there in person wasn’t in his capabilities right now. Not when he had barely wrapped his head around this whole thing in the first place.

“I’ll order food for after the appointment tomorrow. So Mom doesn’t have to cook. Just shoot me a text when you’re done”, Jongho offered, fiddling with a loose thread on his trousers that he hadn’t noticed before. The sigh his brother let out almost made him drop his phone even if it wasn’t disappointed or directed at him.

“Hyung, I’m not even sure if Dad will come home with us afterwards.” Jongho froze, the nausea in his stomach doubling as he realized that he wasn’t even sure what his dad’s condition was. Or that he wasn’t sure if he could stomach any details right now. There was an awkward silence again, neither of them really sure what to say. It wasn’t a surprise really, they rarely had a lot to tell each other in a normal conversation when Jongho didn’t feel like drowning from the newfound revelation that his father wasn’t invincible. And he was sure his brother felt similar even if he’d never admit it.

“I’ll text you after the appointment tomorrow, okay?” Jongho recognized it as a sort of olive branch. His brother allowed some vulnerability so Jongho could feel a little bit better and be there for him in a way that was bearable for him right now. Guilt joined the nausea from before and Jongho was sure he’d throw up any second now.

“Okay”, Jongho replied, barely able to speak because of his throat closing up. He went back to fiddling with his jeans, probably damaging them even further but right at this moment he couldn’t care less.

“I have to go, Mom is almost finished with dinner.”

“Okay”, Jongho repeated like a broken record. “I’ll come visit you soon.”

“Sure, hyung”, his brother agreed even though they both knew that soon was nothing concrete. But he couldn’t hear any form of accusation in his brother’s voice which made the guilt and nausea festering in his body even worse.

They didn’t say any goodbyes and Jongho sat in silence with the phone pressed to his ear long after his brother had hung up on him. He ignored the nausea sneaking up on him in waves, he couldn’t quite manage to ignore the helplessness and fear threatening to swallow him up. That was probably why he placed the delivery order of multiple bottles of soju on a Wednesday. Even though it was barely five pm.

Jongho was ashamed to admit that he didn’t truly have a healthy way of coping with his emotions. But on the other hand, how could he when his mother barely spoke about them and his father only ever pretended that he didn’t have any. He imagined them sitting at the dinner table right now, his father stoically pretending that everything was fine while his mother tried to hide her sadness so his brother wouldn’t see. It only led to him taking another shot of soju. He didn’t know how many it had been at this point; he only knew that it were a few too many considering the fact that it was 6:30 pm and his delivery had arrived half an hour ago.

Truly, Jongho had an ambivalent relationship with alcohol. He enjoyed having a lazy, buzzed evening with his friends and the alcohol loosening his tongue, so he’d finally feel comfortable to share something of his with his most important people in the world. (It’s not that he didn’t trust them sober or wanted to tell them, it’s just that every time he tried, his throat constricted and it seemed like he was unable to speak Korean.) And Jongho didn’t need alcohol often to deal with his feelings. He was an easygoing guy, truly not bothered about most when he said he wasn’t.

Right now, he had to admit that he might not be drinking for the sake of drinking. But since he was a coward when it came down to it, he chose to ignore it and instead refilled his glass.

The front door buzzed as someone opened it with their code and even in Jongho’s inebriated, slower working mind he hoped it would be Wooyoung. Because while it was embarrassing to be caught drinking alone in the middle of the week either way, it’d be way more shameful to have to look their leader in the eye and admit that he wasn’t okay. Because Hongjoong was always responsible when it came to their mental health, he’d ask concerned what was wrong with Jongho and if that was a regular occurrence. If he needed help. (Jongho might, but it truly wasn’t because of his alcohol consumption.)

“Aish”, Wooyoung appeared in his vision, sporting a concerned frown as he took in the empty soju bottle in front of him before he plopped down next to Jongho on the couch and stole his refilled shot glass from him. And then Jongho watched him taking the shot instead of him. Wooyoung’s face didn’t twitch at the bitterness of the grapefruit-flavor that Jongho had chosen even though Wooyoung was normally more a fan of the overly sweet ones like peach.

“Why are we drinking?” Wooyoung asked as if it was a normal occasion for Jongho to be drinking in the middle of the week. Jongho chose not to answer, instead opening another bottle of soju and refilling the glass that Wooyoung had been holding. And another one for himself, even though he felt a bit drowsy as the alcohol in his blood started to work. He should slow down. But he could still think and that was a problem for Jongho right now. His brain hadn’t gotten the memo that he didn’t want to think.

Wooyoung took his not-answer in stride and instead took the shot glasses out of his hands. At this point Jongho was very aware that Wooyoung was downing them not because he truly wanted to but because he was concerned for Jongho’s liver.

“How much did you have already?”, Wooyoung pressed afterwards, clutching the shot glasses tighter to his chest as if scared Jongho would take them from him again. Which was nuts, he still had enough unused ones piling up on his side of the table, but he chose to give Wooyoung a break for the moment.

“Not enough”, Jongho grumbled. And see, he was even able to speak without slurring. Too much. Wooyoung gave him a look that screamed with his disbelief and Jongho rolled his eyes, closing the soju bottle before leaning back on the coach. “It’s none ’f your business.” And okay, maybe he was slurring the words together a bit too much to truly be considered appropriately drunk for a Wednesday evening.

Wooyoung only hummed, placing the glasses back on the table before turning back to face Jongho. “Do you want to talk about it anyway?” Wooyoung had this way of offering comfort without making Jongho feel bad about reclining his offer almost every single time. So he did and just shook his head, not wanting to make any sense of his jumbled thoughts when he had barely grasped what his father’s cancer meant to him.

Wooyoung gave him another look, probably trying to assess if it was worth it to push him a bit further but apparently deciding it to let go because he filled the shot glasses once again and offered one up to Jongho. Which he of course took, thankful.

The next morning, Jongho’s head hurt like hell. And he wasn’t sure if it came from the sheer amount of alcohol he had consumed or if he somehow still had ended up crying in Wooyoung’s arms. Because while the alcohol might explain his headache and the puffiness of his cheeks, it didn’t explain his red-rimmed eyes and Wooyoung’s concerned glances when he tumbled out of his room (already too late for his standards, considering they had to leave in half an hour). He truly hoped his headache wasn’t because of the latter.

To be fair, Wooyoung didn’t seem to be faring any better than him if his slightly pinched expression was anything to go by. Jongho was thankful for the coffee pushed into his hands as soon as he entered the kitchen and both of them waited for the rice that Wooyoung had put in the rice cooker for breakfast in silence.

When Hongjoong entered the kitchen, it was with a concerned frown in their direction as they ate their rice with left-over vegetables in quiet. “And what have you two been up two last night?”, he asked, trying for some humor but all Jongho could hear was pity which did not make his mood any lighter. Thankfully, Wooyoung answered him because Jongho did feel at mercy of his own emotions and right at this moment he couldn’t guarantee that’s he’d reply with the socially accepted one.

“We’ve just had a bonding night and went to bed late.” Wooyoung probably also wasn’t keen on listening to the usual Don’t-drink-too-much-especially-not-on-workdays-schtick that Hongjoong would surely give them. “Besides, it’s not like you came home early as well. I’ve heard you coming in around two am.”

And that had been the end of the conversation since Hongjoong couldn’t reprimand them without looking like a total hypocrite. Well, and Wooyoung was known to play dirty, and he’d totally rat Hongjoong out to Seonghwa for working late in the studio again if the older would bring their tiredness (or rather hangover) up in front of the others.

Jongho was starting to regret drinking so much the night before. Even if he had taken some painkillers before leaving, they had long since stopped helping his headache. The bright studio lights shining on them certainly didn't help him either. At this point, Jongho couldn’t really tell anymore if the remaining nausea in his stomach was because of his hangover or because he had been sitting there for hours and forcing himself to smile when all he really wanted to do was curl up in a tiny ball and black out the entire world. Maybe then he would wake up in a different reality again, one which wasn’t quite so tragic or dramatic.

Next to him, Yeosang sent him a concerned glance again. Every one of his friends had long since noticed that he was especially quiet. It wasn’t that he was the loudest or boisterous in interviews in general but even engaging in their usual banter was proving to be hard for Jongho today. Maybe he should’ve told Hongjoong about needing some time for a family emergency, he probably wouldn’t have had to tell him what it was about exactly as long as he promised to talk to him about it later if he needed to. At least then he wouldn’t have to sit here and answer to the question of Who is the hardest to manage, Hongjoong-ssi for the twentieth time since their debut. (It was stupid, Hongjoong’s answer hadn’t ever changed as well. Just so he could draw a reaction out of Wooyoung even if it weren’t the truth.)

Jongho sent Yeosang a smile that he hoped was reassuring but he didn’t think he succeeded as the other’s eyes narrowed even more in worry. Whatever, he’d deal with him after the interview as at least it was their final one for today. And then he’d check his phone. Because his brother had surely sent a message by now, but Jongho had been too scared of its content to check it during filming. Maybe he should check it at home, he still had some soju left. But at the same time, if Wooyoung caught him drinking during the week again, he’d surely stage an intervention. He’d probably sign him up for a self-help group and therapy without even asking Jongho.

Which surely would be nice if Jongho had an alcohol problem. Which he hadn’t. He was just very overwhelmed to come to the realization that his father might be dying. Honestly, that shouldn’t come as a surprise to him. All humans had to die eventually, and his parents were only getting older. Still, he hadn’t prepared to be reminded of the possibility so soon.

The interview ended and Jongho didn’t even catch the last three questions, too busy mulling about the guilt, sadness and fear in his chest to pay attention. At least it hadn’t been too noticeable since none of the managers gave him a stern talking to and only his members gave him a few concerned looks.

It didn’t take Seonghwa long to corner him in the dressing room though, Jongho had only just taken off his accessories to give them back to their stylists.

“What’s going on with you?” Jongho blinked, a bit surprised at the bluntness as he carefully started to undress and change into his street clothes.

“Nothing?” And that was probably his third mistake in general, lying about being good was always his downfall. There was a weird dissonant feeling whenever he even thought of going back on his words.

“Are you okay?” Of course, Seonghwa knew this. After all this time and hurdles they had faced, it would be more surprising if he hadn’t picked up on Jongho’s usual too quick insistence that he was fine.

“I’m just tired, Wooyoung and I stayed up late last night.” Jongho hated that he chose to lie or diminish his feelings anyway. At least he wasn’t directly dishonest, he had stayed up late with Wooyoung drinking. Just tired was a stretch though.

Seonghwa hummed, unconvinced. But before he could press further, Yunho and Mingi entered the dressing room while bickering about something again and immediately tried pulling Seonghwa into their discussion as mediator.

Jongho used the quick distraction to leave the room as he had actually finished changing out of his outfit. So before Seonghwa could remember what they had been talking about, Jongho was already texting Wooyoung and Hongjoong a text to drive without him and making up some excuse about needing to go to a store close by.

Dad’s staying at the hospital. They want to monitor his vitals since they already started the therapy. The doctors said that his chances are good as we’ve caught it early. Mom’s already busy in the kitchen. You know how she is. She can set a plate for you, if you’d like?

It was easy to find a taxi that took him to their dorm, not worried about Wooyoung and Hongjoong getting home too soon as they either had plans with other members or wanted to go to the company. It was easy to sent his brother a text in which he pushed visiting to Saturday, after their big performance for the week. It wasn’t as easy to ignore the guilt making it harder to breathe afterwards. But he promised himself, he’d talk to his members after the performance. He didn’t want to distract them or himself right now. And maybe then he’d be ready to face his family. (Besides, his father wasn’t there right now either. It’s not like they needed him to be there.)

Maybe Jongho had to admit that this was starting to become a problem for him. This meant more specifically his newfound inability to work through his emotions and problems without alcohol. Or rather he couldn't bear to be alone with his own thoughts any longer.

Rationally, he recognized that hiding away with alcohol in his room so he could escape the inevitable judgement from his flat mates was concerning and very far from his usual behavior. After all, he rarely thought that alcohol consumption was something to be ashamed of if done responsible. Needless to say, there was a part of him very aware that he should be handling this differently, but it seemed like a lot of effort. Emotionally, Jongho took another sip of his glass and watched the sloshing liquid as he swirled it thoughtlessly.

 Just one more day.

Jongho wasn’t even sure what that meant. It wasn’t like he wanted to drop everything and visit his family right away (though the need was growing stronger the longer he thought about it and more importantly, the more alcohol he had in his blood). The thought of just doing it, made him even more uneasy so he took another sip and let his thoughts wander again.

Admittedly, Jongho wasn’t in his top state at the moment. Otherwise, he might’ve realized that hiding away in his room wouldn’t deter Wooyoung from checking up on him after his pitiful performance yesterday and his glorious sneaking away earlier. Maybe he would’ve locked the room or went out to a shady, low-level bar. Maybe a part of him wanted to be found and cared for.

“You’re kidding me.” Wooyoung should stop frowning at him like that. He was always complaining about wrinkles, Jongho thought this wouldn’t help avoiding them. Besides, his eye twitching in irritation looked stupid. Jongho took another sip to avoid chuckling. Because he had long since learned that laughing at an irritated Wooyoung quickly led to dealing with an angry Wooyoung. Which definitely was too much of a hassle right now.

“What’s going on?” Great, Hongjoong nudged Wooyoung a bit to the side so Jongho now had two hovering people standing on his doorstep. They were like vultures, way too eager to judge his every move. Out of protest, Jongho took another sip and realized he should refill his glass.

Wooyoung ignored Hongjoong’s question and instead stepped into the room to sit beside him on the bed. Unsure, their leader stood still in the door and Jongho rolled his eyes at the awkwardness emitting from that side of the room.

“Jongho, I thought yesterday was a one-off”, Wooyoung said in that awfully disappointed tone. Jongho immediately wanted to take another shot just to prove him that he could. Because he was a grown adult who could make his own decisions. Instead, he focused on refilling his glass. Making a mess of his bed was the last thing he needed right now, he was in enough of a mess already.

“Will you tell me what’s going on?” Evidently, Wooyoung didn’t like being ignored. At least if Jongho interpreted his pointed look correctly. Jongho fiddled with the cap of the bottle. Now that he was asked directly, his heart beat a lot faster, and it made him feel queasy.

“I’m fine”, he still lied and ignored Wooyoung’s scoff that followed. Hongjoong looked at them warily, most likely imagining the fight between them that would start any second now. Usually, they had the policy that only the affected members would try to resolve their issues if they didn’t ask for a mediator. Jongho was unsure if Hongjoong would be an affected party. Also, he was a bit too tipsy to think about it too hard.

“Sure”, Wooyoung said while reaching for his glass. Jongho sent him a scalding look which made him stop but Jongho could see the annoyance in his eyes. “That’s why you’re getting wasted two days in a row. Two workdays.”

Hongjoong practically vibrated with concern with the new information. Jongho just hoped he’d stay out of this, dealing with another friend trying to patronize him when he was just trying to forget everything for a bit was annoying. They care for you, a voice in his head reminded him. Jongho told it to shut up.

“I’ve been fully operational today”, Jongho told him stiltedly. “I won’t make a mistake tomorrow either, you won’t even notice.” It was a bit off an asshole move, framing it as if Wooyoung was concerned for the group image and not Jongho’s wellbeing. But it did make Wooyoung throw his hands up in anger and for a moment Jongho thought he had successfully driven him away but the older just took a deep breath.

“This is so not what I was talking about, and you know it.”

Hongjoong leaned awkwardly against the doorframe and Jongho was very aware that he was watched. It didn’t help the rising tension since Jongho still hadn’t answered and frankly wasn’t planning to. After all, it was his problem and Wooyoung didn’t need to help him. He was fine, thank you very much. Absently, Jongho watched Wooyoung’s frustration grow again.

“Just talk to me”, Jongho could tell that Wooyoung was very close to storming off, his tone was even more clipped. “I want to help you. You can’t just drown all your sorrows in alcohol. I’m sure that whatever it is, won’t just go away if you fuck yourself up long enough.”

Jongho might be an asshole as well as a coward, he decided. Because instead of telling Wooyoung what was wrong or that he didn’t want to talk, he took another big sip from his glass while looking him dead in the eyes. Shock and realization entered Wooyoung’s eyes, quickly followed by frustration and a huff as he threw his hands up and stormed out of the room. Jongho couldn’t quite catch what he was muttering under his breath, but he was sure it wasn’t anything nice towards him.

Hongjoong was quietly looking at him for a few more seconds, the judgment rolling off of him in waves. Just as Jongho asked himself if he needed to drive him away as well, he sighed disappointedly.

“I’ll go after him. Just stop drinking. We need to be up early for the performance tomorrow.”

Hongjoong left and Jongho did in fact not stop drinking.

The next morning, Jongho felt as if he was dredging his way through a honey block. Which might have to do with his pounding headache and the painkillers he had taken afterwards. They made him drowsy.

Thankfully, Wooyoung was still mad at him and kept his spitefulness to glowering from the distance. Hongjoong had only taken one look at him this morning and sighed. Jongho was sure that Seonghwa would be informed of his misdeeds at the final rehearsals at the latest.

Mom’s asking what you want to eat tomorrow? What time will you stop by? Dad has called as well; he’s complaining about the hospital food. I’ll ask the doctors if we can bring him some food tomorrow. Good luck today.

Jongho swallowed down the panic that threatened to rise at the message with all the overwhelming emotions encompassing him. He wasn’t sure why the fact that his brother had thought of him made him so emotional, it’s not like he had ever missed it before. Maybe if he hadn’t been such an ass yesterday, he could’ve asked Hongjoong to cover for him so he could go to his family immediately. Right now, he thought he’d be swallowed by shame if he dared to fall back into his group’s safety net after so blatantly refusing just hours before.

Thanks, I’ll be over for lunch at the latest. Depends on the traffic but I don’t have anything else. I’d be fine with galbi-Jjim. It’s been long since I last had it.

When Jongho looked up from texting, he caught Hongjoong and Wooyoung quickly looking away. All of them pretended that they hadn’t noticed and their remaining car ride was awkwardly silent.

Jongho thought the performance might’ve gone well but he honestly couldn’t remember much of it. It was all a blur, the lights and loud crowd not really helping his headache but then, it was his fault. Judging by the unimpressed look Hongjoong gave him when he herded them off the stage, their captain thought the same.

Since word traveled fast in their friend group, Jongho was sure that everyone knew of the argument yesterday. Because Hongjoong would’ve probably told Seonghwa. Wooyoung had definitely told San and Yeosang. And somehow Yunho had found out who had in turn told Mingi. So, it’s safe to say that Jongho felt either judged or smothered with concern right now (depending who was tasked with keeping an eye on him for the moment).

Personally, Jongho didn’t think he could be blamed for slipping away in the chaos of stylists herding them to their cabins and the sound tech guy trying to get his mics back. He released a relieved breath when he stepped into an empty hallway and away from all the noise. It was easier on his head for sure.

Jongho leaned against a wall and closed his eyes for a bit, willing his ears to stop ringing and his heartbeat to slow. The adrenaline from the performance was only slowly declining but Jongho knew he’d crash badly once it had run it’s course. Jongho let himself slide down the wall to sit because there was no one here to watch. It seemed like a rather isolated hallway as well, so no one should stumble over his little moping session.

Exhausted, Jongho laid his head on his knees. He definitely hadn’t slept enough the last few nights and had definitely felt too many emotions in the last few days in general. Suddenly, Jongho felt like crying. Which was weird, because Jongho wasn’t usually one to cry. It just felt so unfair.

Voices echoed down the hallway, familiar though Jongho couldn’t place them right away. Maybe he had been wrong and idols were drawn in by isolated hallways like moths to the light. Maybe he just had bad luck which seemed more likely right now. Jongho considered standing up as the footsteps drew near, but he honestly was a bit scared he’d faint or stumble if he tried.

“Hyung?” Jongho didn’t even raise his head, maybe they’d just ignore him if he pretended that he wasn’t there.

“It’s okay, Innie. Go find Chan-hyung and tell him we’ll need to delete this footage.”

With the names, everything seemed to click for Jongho. Jongho had only talked to Changbin a handful of times, but Wooyoung’s friend had always seemed polite and nice. Which meant that his chances of being ignored dropped to zero but at least he knew that no one would start any rumors and it was slightly less humiliating than being found by an idol he didn’t even really know.

Footsteps grew distant, Jeongin had probably followed Changbin’s suggestion. The air shifted as Changbin crouched in front of him.

“Are you okay?” Jongho sighed heavily, too tired to give Changbin the obvious answer. Because would he be sitting alone on the floor if he truly was okay?

“Sorry, stupid question”, Changbin amended at his reaction, luckily not seeming offended by Jongho’s reaction at all. “Let me try again: What’s up?” Jongho huffed in amusement at the equally bad try but maybe that was Changbin’s goal all along. Changbin’s clothes rustled as he switched positions to sit right next to him, Jongho tilted his head and looked at the older idol.

“Don’t you have better things to do than sitting with a moping stranger?”

“Eh”, Changbin huffed noncommitting. “Not really, we’ve already performed like hours ago. We’re just around to film some more content. Besides, you’re not a stranger. You’re my friend’s little brother.” Jongho’s heart did a weird thing at the words, as if it couldn’t decide between feeling happy or sad.

“I don’t think he likes me very much right now”, Jongho offered and he honestly couldn’t tell why he was even opening up to Changbin right now. Maybe because it didn’t seem like he expected anything from Jongho, maybe because though they weren’t complete strangers, their lives were barely interwoven.

“I don’t think that’s possible even if you’ve had a fight”, Changbin said lightly. “Wooyoung might be hotheaded but he’s not easy to get rid of. Even mad, he’ll admit to loving you and cling to you like a leach.”

Jongho bit his lip because he wouldn’t cry in front of Changbin of all people. He didn’t even know why he was so emotional right now. “I think I’ve really messed up”, Jongho admitted out loud for the first time. To Changbin’s record he only tilted his head in thought. “And with no reason as well.”

“Did you murder someone? Or committed any other crime?”

Jongho thought of the empty soju bottles standing in his room. “Not really”, he said hesitantly, not really seeing what Changbin was going for.

“Well, then I think it’s probably solvable.”

“You’re oddly optimistic even though I haven’t told you anything”, Jongho pointed out critically. Changbin shrugged, smiling at him gently.

“Do you want to tell me?”

And this time, Jongho actually considered. After all, it’s not like he had anything to lose. He truly wanted to tell his friends as well what’s been wrong with him. But it had felt as if he had driven himself into a wall with all his lies and evasion. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to start with low stakes like telling Changbin.

“My dad got diagnosed with cancer.”

“Well, that sucks.” Jongho chuckled, a bit startled at the heartfelt response. Honestly, he was a bit surprised that Changbin didn’t immediately start spouting any platitudes. Noticing his surprise, Changbin only shrugged. “What? Did you want me to lie? It sucks, and I’d rather you didn’t have to deal with this. Me telling you I’m sorry doesn’t make it better, does it? I think it’s a given anyway. It also feels so final, doesn’t it?”

“No, no, it’s fine”, Jongho said while realizing that it was fine. Just imagining Changbin telling him he was sorry with a pitying look would make him feel like his father was already dead. “I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

A comfortable quiet spread between them, Jongho relaxed again when he realized that Changbin wasn’t intending on pressing for any more details. That’s probably why he found the courage to continue a few moments later.

“I haven’t told any of them, instead made some questionable life choices and didn’t even visit my dad.” Jongho shuffled a bit, trying to find a bit more comfortable position because his leg was slowly falling asleep. “I started a fight with Wooyoung because he asked me if I was okay and lied to him. I don’t think I can even tell them now when I should’ve told them two days ago.”

Changbin hummed and took a few seconds to ponder over Jongho’s words which made Jongho feel validated. “Obviously I can’t speak for your friends. But if one of my group members came to me with something like that, I wouldn't care how long they'd kept it to themselves. I'd feel honored to be able to support them through it. It’s yours to share, you don’t have any obligations in that regard. Take it from me, as a hyung: the only thing I might be upset about is that I didn’t make you feel like you could come to me. Whether it’s day or night, two days or three months later.”

Shortly, Jongho felt floored as the words settled into his body. Sure, he knew the general concept of friendship and family. After all, it’s what he would think if any of his friends came to him. But Changbin had a way with words, the simple and direct way released a knot in Jongho’s chest that he hadn’t even been aware of before.

“I’m scared”, he admitted a few moments later.

“Honestly, I think that’s normal. I’ve never been in your situation, so I won’t pretend that I know what it feels like. But sometimes I’m even nervous about asking Chan to go to the gym together if it’s the wrong day.” Honestly, Jongho couldn’t imagine Changbin being scared or nervous of anything. The other man always seemed so self-assured. But then, people might say that about Jongho as well.

“What do you want to do now?”, Changbin asked after a few more moments in silence. But it wasn’t in an impatient manner, rather a genuinely curious way.

“I’m not sure”, Jongho admitted because he wasn’t. The thought of going back to Ateez’s dress room was overwhelming, just leaving the concert avenue felt cowardly even if Hongjoong would most likely cover for him anyway.

“No pressure but if you want, I’ll bring you to your room. And stay for your talk if you want a neutral buffer.” Jongho had to admit, the thought was alluring. That way he wouldn’t have to bear the complete attention of his members. But Changbin surely had better things to do than playing babysitter. He told him as much.

“Eh”, Changbin huffed again, raising an eyebrow at him. “As I said: we’ve long since finished the official part. And I’m old enough to stay here without supervision.”

Jongho didn’t think he could deal with the mortification of inviting Changbin to their talk like a little child, but he did take Changbin up on his offer to escort him to their dressing room.

“Thank you”, he told the other idol sincerely. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Changbin just smiled at him and gently clapped his shoulder because he also somehow had the magic ability to tell that Jongho didn’t want a hug right now. “Don’t mention it. Wooyoung’s little brother is my little brother after all.” And then Jongho was left alone to stare at the door and try to convince himself to just open it.

Somehow, he wasn’t ready for the chaos that enveloped him when he finally found his courage. Hongjoong and Seonghwa were animatedly talking with the staff while Yeosang, Wooyoung, Yunho, Mingi and San were in the other corner. San sat silently with a phone to his ear and a frown to his face, Jongho was wondering who he was trying to call. Wooyoung was rapidly talking to someone over phone as well, almost frantic in his gesture so Jongho didn’t think it was a particularly good conversation. Mingi appeared to be texting with someone? Or at least typing on his phone like he was running out of time. Yunho and Yeosang were talking with each other and though Jongho couldn’t catch what they were saying, they kept looking over to the door. Which was why they spotted him first of course.

“Jongho!”, Yunho’s voice was unusually shaky and Jongho couldn’t really understand the following visible relief rippling through the room as everyone turned around to look at him. Wooyoung ended his call without saying goodbye. Had something happened? Jongho voiced that question and his friends looked even more weirded out.

“You just disappeared, Jongho”, Seonghwa said gently. At the same time as Wooyoung said:” We should be asking you that! Where have you been? What happened?” Jongho blinked, a bit confused before realizing that that entire havoc had been caused by his own disappearance. Huh. Somehow, he hadn’t even thought about that before slipping away, too preoccupied with his own feelings at the time. Jongho decided the time was as good as any to take Changbin’s advice.

“I’m sorry”, he started with and cringed at his own awkwardness. He really wasn’t good at this thing called emotions. “I didn’t mean to worry you; I just needed some space to think.” Jongho watched as the remaining staff filtered out during his talking, probably grasping that there was an emotional conversation to be had. Their manager quietly said something to Hongjoong before leaving the room as well, leaving their group alone.

Jongho took a deep, shaky breath before continuing. “I need to tell all of you something.” Distantly, Jongho was impressed how a single sentence, spoken in a particular way, could cause the tension in the entire room to rise. All of them braced for bad news and Jongho found himself wondering what kind of message they were expecting. However insensitive it might be, he didn’t think they’d come close to the truth. It was morbid to think that way, Jongho thought, because it made him wonder whether he’d rather tell his friends that he was leaving the band or that his father might be dying. Disturbingly, he didn’t know which he preferred at that moment.

When Yunho cleared his throat, Jongho noticed that he had drifted off with his thoughts and was still met with expectant stares. Jongho figured Yunho hadn’t meant it in a hurry-up-way, rather in a my-nerves-are-closing-up-my-throat-way. Probably, because Jongho could relate, it seemed as if his words tried to escape him once again. Either way, it prompted him to continue.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you.” Jongho winced, realizing that it didn’t come out as expected. Vaguer than he had wanted to be. Before any of his friends (especially Mingi looked like he wanted to shake the answer out of him) could ask for any clarification, he continued: “My dad is sick.”

Embarassingly, that’s when all the emotions from the last few days exploded in his face. More embarrassing, it took him a second, his members’ alarmed faces and his breaking voice on his added my dad has cancer to cue him in that he was crying. Once he started, it was out of his way to stop the emotions rushing over him. But it frustrated him - he actually wanted to apologize and not force anyone to feel sorry for him, but with all the sobbing, it was hard to even get another coherent sentence out.

His vision blurred from the tears, so Jongho roughly wiped them away. A gentle hand on his wrist startled him out of his spiral of self-hatred. San smiled at him sadly as he turned his hand and placed a napkin in it. “I didn’t have a handkerchief”, he explained when he mistook Jongho’s startled look for confusion about the napkin and not his general emotional turmoil. It warmed Jongho’s heart so he just dabbed away his tears with it without a snarky reply. “Do you want a hug?”

San’s question was surprising in the sense that Jongho could very visibly see that San was holding himself back from giving into the impulse to embrace him. Jongho hadn’t truly registered that he had nodded when San drew him into his arms and Jongho couldn’t help but cry a bit more. It didn’t help (or well, it did, it just made Jongho cry more) that San didn’t try to placate him with empty reassurances and just let him wet his stage-outfit with his tears. It didn’t help that when he looked up, he saw the sympathetic faces of his friends. They engulfed him like vultures in a group hug when he broke down even more.

An undetermined time later- because time felt slippery since his brother’s first call more often than it didn’t- Hongjoong leaned back from the hug and asked: “What can we do for you, Jongho?” Somehow, Jongho had regained at least some of his usual stoic composure and didn’t break out into another round of sobs even though the question made him all fuzzy and loved.

“I’m not sure”, Jongho said, barely able to grasp what he was feeling let alone putting it in words. The arms around him loosened, as if wanting to give him some space to think and Jongho was thankful for it. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier.”

Wooyoung looked ready to punch him- or give him a stern-talking to. To be fair, he probably was still a bit fed up that Jongho had so obviously lied to him. “That doesn’t matter right now”, Yunho pointed out, a fiery look in his eyes and Jongho watched as Wooyoung nodded along ferociously.

“I’ll go and talk to the managers”, Hongjoong offered, visibly already making plans in his head. “Tell them that you will need some time-“ Seonghwa cleared his throat pointedly and Hongjoong startled.

“Do you want to go to your family?”, Mingi asked at the same time and Jongho started to feel a bit overwhelmed with the entire well-meant attention on him. “We should head back to our apartment first probably”, Wooyoung jumped on, his friends seemed eager to get moving. Jongho couldn’t blame them, the restless energy in the room made him queasy.

“Should one of us come with you?”, asked Yeosang and made Jongho’s head spin. It was nice that they all cared for him, he supposed. Seonghwa cleared his throat again and everyone quietened down. “Guys, how about we let Jongho talk and decide?”, he said fondly. Jongho couldn’t help but return the soft smile when everyone nodded their agreement and settled down again.

“Let’s get out of this sweaty stage outfit first?”, Jongho suggested. Who would've thought- one minor emotional breakdown later, and suddenly you're back to caring about that disgusting feeling of sticky, sweaty clothes clinging to your skin. Same old, same old.

Jongho was fiddling nervously with his phone. The uber driver kept glancing back at him through the rearview mirror, probably because his nervous fidgeting got worse the less time was left on his GPS. Jongho wondered if he was the first client that regretted his destination the closer he got to it. Probably not. He must’ve driven at least one person to an exam or job interview.

Yesterday, after the performance, Jongho had actually mustered up all his courage to talk a little more about the whole my-dad-has-cancer-thing. And had tried to answer some of the questions but admittedly he only felt bad again when he realized that he didn’t have a lot of information to go off on because he hadn’t asked any follow-up questions. He didn’t even know the type of cancer that his father was currently battling. Though Yunho had reminded him that he could ask everything today and No, you’re not a bad son. It’s okay to need some time and not immediately ask all these questions. Jongho begged to differ but as Yeosang reminded him helpfully You’re always a perfectionist. No wonder you hold yourself to such high standards in this, too.

Suddenly, Jongho realized that the car had stopped and that the surrounding neighborhood was the same that he had grown up in. The uber driver hadn’t said anything, only tapping on the driver’s wheel a bit impatiently, so Jongho figured he couldn’t have been zoned out for too long. Either way, he mumbled his thanks and made his way out of the car.

Every single one of his friends had offered to come along. Overwhelmed by the support and with the knowledge that he needed to do this alone, he had declined. Now, he wished for someone that would take the last steps for him because the last meters to the front door appeared especially hard. Just the thought of ringing the bell (or searching for his keys) was taxing and Jongho considered turning around again for a brief moment.

The door opened before he had completed the last few steps. His brother smiled at him weakly. Jongho noticed that he had a slightly different hair cut than when he had last seen him, it’s been how many months now? Three? “Hey”, Jongho greeted softly.

“I’m glad you’re here”, his brother said instead of a greeting and stepped to the side to let him inside. Me too, Jongho thought and realized that he actually meant it.

“How’s dad?”, Jongho asked after they had eaten dinner and had mostly ignored the sword of Damocles hanging over the table. He rather asked that instead of asking how are you, mom or are you upset I haven’t been here earlier because he was scared of the answers and his mother seemed tired.

“The doctors are optimistic”, said his brother.

“He wants to come home”, his mother said shortly after. “He hates the hospital food.”

His brother sighed exasperated as if they had this exact conversation multiple times. Jongho could imagine it all to well, his mother had always had the tendency to try and take care of her boy by herself even if it lay outside of her capabilities. Sometimes, Jongho thought it might have to do with both her sons leaving the nest so early to pursue their careers, most of the times he knew it just lay in her nature.

“You know how dad is”, his little brother said to no one in particular. “Complaining about the little things makes him happy. He wants to get healthy again even if it means eating mushed, bland food.”

Not long after that, Jongho’s mother cleaned up the table and started bustling in the kitchen. Mind you, Jongho had tried to help but had stopped when his mom had only raised an eyebrow at him and told them have fun, boys. He wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to have fun when all he could think about was his hospitalized father, but he understood the underlying sentiment.

“We can go visit him later”, his little brother offered. He hadn’t even tried to help clean up, probably already too used to their mother’s insistence on doing it alone. “He would be happy to see you.” Apparently, his brother had decided that some things shouldn’t be left unspoken any longer because Jongho couldn’t remember the last time they talked about feelings before this entire mess. Either way, Jongho agreed before he could think of it differently.

“How’s mom?”, Jongho asked when he was sure that his mother was busy with washing the dishes.

“Doing as well as expected, I guess. She’s keeping herself busy. I think she’s scared and can’t help the what-if’s. But she won’t really talk about it. I just hear her getting up in the middle of the night.” Jongho hummed, not really knowing what to say to that. He wished to just make it all better with a snap of his fingers, but he hadn’t figured out magic quite yet.

“How are you?”, Jongho asked after the brothers had stopped talking for a while. His brother smiled at him tiredly. I hear her getting up in the middle of the night, Jongho remembered and could relate. His own night had started long after he had gone to bed and ended way too early though his alarm hadn’t even gone off.

“I’m fine”, his brother said in the same way someone with a torn muscle would say it. Not screaming from pain most of the time, but through gritted teeth and exhaustion.

“I’m not”, Jongho admitted, surprising them both. “I’m not fine. This sucks. I’d rather we hadn’t had to deal with this.”

Startled his brother chuckled humorously. “I guess you’re right. This sucks.”

Jongho didn’t press for him to say it, but he heard the I’m not fine but I don’t know how to admit it anyway.

“Jongho”, his father greeted him when he stepped into the hospital room, looking way livelier than Jongho had imagined for someone diagnosed with cancer just a few days ago. But then again, the idea that he might have cancer had probably been floating around in his father's mind for a longer time. At least Jongho thought so after his mother had mentioned multiple doctor’s visit in the last few months.

His brother had been right, his father loved to complain about the little things. To be fair, Jongho imagined that not a lot would happen in a hospital otherwise. At least nothing that made for light-hearted topics. Apparently, there was a nurse that wouldn’t stop talking, one nurse that gave the plastic plants water (Jongho’s dad insisted he had checked and that they were indeed plastic) and not to forget about the one neighbor that would still go out to smoke after having throat cancer. Honestly, Jongho wasn’t sure if the nurses were the same person or if his father had just made up the stories.

Interesting enough, Jongho had never heard his father talk this much. It probably had to do with the fact that his mother was unusually quiet, and someone had to fill the silence. Well, and that there wasn’t much to do in a hospital.

“The doctors told me I could go home next Wednesday. By then I should’ve finished the first round of chemotherapy, and they’ll do some more tests.” That was good news, Jongho knew that. But still, the unshakeable knowledge that his parents were only human had his claws in the back of his neck as if he was waiting for the shoe to drop.

Later, when Jongho’s mother and brother had left them alone to go and speak with the doctors, Jongho sat at his father’s bedside and couldn’t help but notice the graying hair and wrinkles on his face.

“Son, I’m glad you’re here”, his father said quietly and Jongho stilled for a moment.  Emotional words weren’t the norm in his family; he couldn’t remember the last time his father had genuinely shared something like this to him. It wasn't as if Jongho didn't know his parents must be proud of him. After all, they told their friends about their sons' accomplishments. But it was more a case of show, don't tell.

“I’m glad I’m here, too”, Jongho said, nevertheless. Because after all, you couldn’t exactly say that he was living a normal situation after all and what was a bit of emotional talk in the face of fighting cancer?

“Don’t worry about me”, his father said when Jongho was about to leave to join his mother and brother. “I still have a bit of fight left, son. I have a lot of things I want to see.” Weirdly enough it made Jongho hopeful. Or maybe it wasn’t too weird. Because wasn’t believing in oneself part of the fight against cancer?

Jongho was exhausted when he got home. Though it was more of a mental exhaustion, it felt like he had taken a ride on a wild rollercoaster of emotions and he couldn’t think of anything better than falling into bed right now.

There were more pairs of shows in the entrance than usual. Jongho narrowed his eyes, they were very familiar. While his friends owned a lot of shoes, he was proud to say he recognized at least their favorites most of the time and he was pretty sure he spotted Mingi’s current favorites among them.

“Oh, you’re back already”, Hongjoong said, suddenly standing in the doorframe to the living room. “I hope you don’t mind, but I really couldn’t stop the guys from coming over to wait for you. I can send them away if you’d rather be alone?”

Jongho’s heart warmed at the thought of his friends waiting for him and the corner of his mouth tugged upwards into a smile. “Oh no, it’s fine”, he reassured their captain. Better than fine, if he was honest.

“Jongho, is that you?”, San popped up behind Hongjoong, his eyes sparkling happily though his face was schooled carefully. Probably trying to gauge Jongho’s mood since he reciprocated his smile easily. “You don’t understand, I’m so thankful you turned up right now. Because Wooyoung keeps insisting we watch the bee movie, Yunho wants to watch the minions and no one else is saying anything sensible either.”

Jongho blinked and his eyebrows raised because that was a lot. “Those are certainly some choices”, Jongho settled on and couldn’t think of any worse way to spend the evening (which was a lie that he told himself but whatever).

In the end, they decided for a completely different movie. Or Jongho pretended not to notice that they just agreed with him enthusiastically. And no one had to know that he had only picked that movie because he wanted to see the rest of them hold back their critique if they thought he genuinely liked it. Finding pleasure in little things or something.

Somehow, during the movie Wooyoung gravitated closer to him. Jongho wasn’t stupid, he knew it was Wooyoung’s ploy to talk to him without being able to run. Not that he would, he was very aware that he should still apologize even though the other had brushed his tries off yesterday.

“How are you?”, Wooyoung asked not long after securing the place next to Jongho. Somehow, he had managed to wrap his arm around him and had only noticed when it had been too late to stop him (as if he wanted to).

“I’m sorry”, Jongho said, only shortly glancing over to Wooyoung before looking back on the screen.

“That’s not an emotion I support right now”, Wooyoung said skeptically. “Not even sure if that counts as an emotion anyway.”

“I am though, I haven’t been nice to you when you only wanted to help”, Jongho muttered. Maybe he got a little bit annoyed at Wooyoung’s continued insistence that while he might’ve been upset in the moment, he understood why Jongho had been acting like he had and didn’t need to apologize anymore.

“How about instead of apologizing, you just promise me that you won’t suppress your emotion until they come up and explode? That’s got to be exhausting at some point.”

Jongho hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll try”, he said after a few moments.

“That’s all I’ll ever ask for”, Wooyoung agreed smiling and gave him a kiss against his temple despite his very genuine protests. In the end, no one said anything when Jongho leaned more into Wooyoung’s embrace. Wooyoung just drew him in closer.