Chapter Text
“Hyunjin, did you just hear me?”
Chan's concern was laced in his voice as he stepped into the room, his eyes immediately fixating on the shattered mirror fragments scattered across the floor once more. His eyes slowly shifted to Hyunjin, his eyes just staring blankly back as he tried to think of every and any excuse to protect himself. Panic crept in the younger boy’s throat, unable to formulate a lie that would change Chan’s mind from what was in front of him.
"Hyunnie, what happened?" Chan tried again, looking for any kind of response.
Hyunjin's heart slammed in his chest as he met Chan's concerned gaze, the weight of his friend's worry striking a nerve he didn’t know he still had in him.. He couldn’t tell him the truth, it was a door he wanted to keep closed. So, he forced a tight-lipped smile, trying to appear casual despite the unease gnawing at him. "The mirror was falling, and I just tried to stop it with my hand," he muttered, his voice a careful mix of nonchalance and defensiveness.
Inside, his emotions were a tangled mess of guilt, embarrassment, and something foreign. He knew he liked it when Chan called him 'Hyunnie,' the nickname a soothing balm to his weary soul. But right now, he had to keep himself distant, emotionless. Letting anyone in to see how fractured he felt would push them away further. He watched as Chan's brows furrowed, his expression a mix of disbelief and questioning. He could feel Chan's gaze penetrating his defences, see right through the veneer he had constructed. A torrent of self-doubt surged within him—had he done enough to convince Chan, or was his secret poised to be exposed?
Seeing Chan move towards him, an instinctive flinch swept through Hyunjin. The prospect of exposure was a double-edged sword that triggered a raw vulnerability within him. He recoiled subtly, his body language betraying the turmoil he fought to keep hidden. He looked away for a moment, his attention landing on the scattered fragments of the mirror. The tension in the room seemed to thicken, the unspoken truth hanging heavy in the air. With a lingering look, Chan turned and approached the broken mirror, leaving Hyunjin alone with his thoughts and the heavy weight of his secret.
“I can clean this up for you,” Chan paused to look back at Hyunjin, “do you need my help?”
He didn’t get a response, he barely did. The elder meticulously gathered the mirror fragments with a dustpan he had retrieved from Hyunjin's bathroom, Hyunjin's focus remained fixed on the unfolding scene. His emotions were a tempest of contradictions—gratitude for Chan's concern, embarrassment at the mess he had created, and an overwhelming desire to retreat further into his thoughts. His attention shifted momentarily from the mirror shards to the plate that had been left on the bathroom floor, desperately wanting to avoid explaining why it was there.
The silence in the room hung heavy, the tension stifling as Chan worked to clean up the mess. A sense of unease settled in Hyunjin's chest, a battle between wanting to open up and the fear of revealing too much. He chose silence, disattaching was easier than facing the consequences.Chan's movements were controlled, but the frustration beneath the surface was evident in the way he clenched his jaw.
"Hyunjin, please," Chan's voice was softer this time, tinged with a hint of exasperation. "Can you at least tell me what happened?"
Hyunjin's gaze remained distant, his focus seemingly fixed on the wall as if it held all the answers he was searching for. He could feel Chan's eyes on him, the weight of the unspoken questions hanging in the air. His throat felt tight, the words he wanted to say lodged within him like stones. His mind was shutting down, the intrusive thoughts returning with a vengeance, each one a reminder of his perceived shortcomings, his inadequacies.
Chan's voice, gentle yet persistent, cut through the torrent in his mind. "Hyunjin, please talk to me. I'm here to help."
But the words seemed to slip through the cracks in Hyunjin's defences, his heart racing as the thoughts intensified. He closed his eyes briefly, his grip on the edge of the bed tightening as if to anchor himself. The battle within him raged on—the urge to share his pain, his fear of burdening Chan with his struggles, and the overwhelming compulsion to protect the facade he had so carefully constructed.
A sense of resignation washed over Chan, his frustration giving way to a deeper concern. He continued to clean up the broken mirror. As the pieces of glass were carefully collected, it was as if they were trying to piece together not just the mirror, but the fragments of their friendship that had been shaken by Hyunjin's silence.
Finally, Chan stood up, the dustpan in hand. He turned to Hyunjin, his gaze a mix of worry and uncertainty. "I'm finished, call me if you want me" he said softly, a gesture of understanding that held more than just the promise of tidying the physical mess. With that, Chan left the room, leaving Hyunjin alone with his thoughts once again. As the door closed, the weight of his silence pressed down on him, a heavy burden he wasn't sure he could continue to carry.
Like it had been timed, the tears broke free once more.
-
It was some time before the stinging in his left arm prompted him to do something about it.
Alone in the bathroom, Hyunjin let out a shaky breath as he examined his injured hand, the makeshift bandage still clinging to his skin. He felt a sense of detachment, as if he were watching himself from a distance, his emotions walled off behind a barrier of numbness. His fingers trembled as he carefully unwrapped the t-shirt fabric from around the cuts, revealing the raw wounds beneath. He turned on the faucet, letting the water flow over his hand, mingling with the blood that seeped from the small cuts. He watched as the crimson ribbons wound their way down the drain, disappearing into the darkness below.
His tears fell in silence, tracing a path down his cheeks as he continued to rinse his injured hand. The more he cleaned away the wound, the more a feeling of wanting to wash himself away overtook every nerve ending he had. But the water that sluiced down the drain only took the blood, it didn’t touch the evidence of his pain, his suffering. He felt nothing. The tears were a release, but they offered no catharsis, no solace from the numbing void that gripped him.
Like the water that disappeared, a sinking feeling settled in his chest, a familiar darkness that he had grown all too accustomed to. The emptiness of his emotions seemed to magnify the weight of his sadness, like an anchor pulling him deeper into the abyss. He was drowning. His dark eyes remained fixed on his hand, on the patterns the blood made as it mixed with the water, a morbid fascination that mirrored the way he was often drawn to his own pain.
With a heavy sigh, he turned off the faucet, his hand dripping water onto the basin. He reached for a towel, his movements slow and methodical, working operating on autopilot. Wrapping the towel around his hand, he felt the echoes of his own helplessness, the way he was trapped in the same cycle that never released him.
All he could do now was leave the bathroom, let the weight of his sadness envelop him once again, a shroud that he had momentarily tried to cast off. The tears had come and gone, leaving behind a hollow mark, a cavern that seemed to swallow up any glimmer of light. He stood there for a moment, his emotions pressing down on him, before he moved to his bed, sinking into its comfort as if seeking refuge from the storm within.
His eyes stared blankly at the wall, he still couldn’t find the answers he looked for on it. Disturbing the silence, his thoughts began to creep in, the intrusive whispers wrapping their arms around his frame once more. He’d been through this so many times before. It didn’t matter if he stared, or screamed, or begged, he never found the miracle he was searching for.
He wasn’t even sure he knew what that miracle was. Maybe something to feel alive, a breath to revitalise. Instead he had nothing, his ownership matching his value. As the minutes stretched on, he felt himself being pulled deeper into the ocean, the emotional numbness giving way to an overwhelming wave of sadness that threatened to consume him once again.
-
In the depths of his restless sleep, his dreams were chased away by a nightmare slowly sinking its claws into his essence. He stood in a bleak landscape, surrounded by the familiar faces of his fellow members. Yet, there was a chilling detachment in their eyes, a hardness that struck him like a blow. His heart pounded in his chest as he slowly came to the realisation that something was wrong and he was at the centre of it. .
Looking around, Hyunjin's unease deepened. His friends, his brothers, were casting him cold, judgmental glances. He tried to speak, to defend himself against the accusations he couldn't even comprehend, but his voice was trapped within him, rendered mute by an invisible force. He could feel his heartbeat in his head, weeks of self doubt manifesting itself in front of him and he was so weak he couldn’t even turn away from it. One by one, he watched words tear him apart.
"Look at him, thinking he's special just because he's in the spotlight."
"He's nothing without his looks, can't even hold his own."
"Why is he even here? He's just a pretty face, not talented."
Desperation clawed at him as he attempted to plead his innocence, to bridge the gap that had suddenly formed between them. He stretched his arms out, his voice a silent scream within him, but the words never left his lips. His bandmates' scornful expressions only deepened, and he could feel the weight of their disappointment pressing down on him.
There was no reprieve from the attacks, Hyunjin felt more and more powerless. The words of criticism cut deep, like daggers to his soul, and he was defenceless against it all. He saw his own reflection in their eyes, and it was distorted, twisted by the cruel judgments he had long tried to suppress. He wanted to explain, to make them understand the torment he had been through, but the suffocating grip of silence held him in its clutches.
A surge of panic jolted Hyunjin awake. He gasped for air, his heart racing, his body drenched in sweat. Around him, he could still hear the echoes of his insecurity, the weight of the imagined rejection heavy on his chest. He turned to the red digital clock on his bedside table, the numbers illuminating the darkness. It was 8pm—time had slipped away from him as the nightmare had held him in its grip.
Noises began to cut through the fog. The sound of laughter and chatter floated into his room, a stark contrast to the isolation his dream had created. He could hear the voices of his fellow band members in the common space, their joyfulness a soothing balm to the wounds his subconscious had inflicted. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a shaky breath as he tried to ground himself in the present.
Pushing himself up, Hyunjin swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet meeting the cool floor. A sleepy haze still kept him numb around the edges, somewhere between flinching at the temperature under his feet and relaxing into it. Sometimes it was impossible to feel anything at all, he had to have small reminders that he still existed.
He walked over to the door, his hand resting on the doorknob as he hesitated. It shouldn't be this hard. It’s just dinner. It’s just the boys. The voices of his friends continued to drift into his room, god he wanted to be a part of it. The isolation was suffocating. He swallowed hard, too many thoughts racing in his head to even pick a single one out. For someone who loathed being alone, Hyunjin had got very used to the feeling.
For a moment, he contemplated opening the door, pretending that nothing had changed and he was still the same Hyunjin they all knew and loved. But uncertainty gripped him, and he found himself retreating, hand slipping away from the handle. He leaned his forehead against the cool wood, his heart shouldn’t be beating this hard. Cracking at the seams, he couldn’t bring himself to be so vulnerable in front of them. He had no right to be that selfish with everything he had put them through.
He stared blankly at the closed door, his thoughts whirled. The air conditioner hummed, his phone vibrated infrequently, his breaths came out heavy. The soft swirls of laughter danced at his heartstrings, lulling him slowly into twisting the doorknob finally and padding down the corridor. He’d had enough of his own thoughts today, he could pretend for a little while.
-
The soft glow of the kitchen beckoned to Hyunjin like a distant sanctuary, its warm light spilling into the hallway. He could find some safety in it. If he had the energy, he would have found a joke about coming out of the dark and into the light. Cold floor met each footstep as they echoed. Gentle creaks mixed with his breathing as he brought himself closer and closer to the stairs. It wasn’t too late for him to run away and hide under his covers, Hyunjin almost laughed at the absurdity of his nerves.
Sounds of clinking utensils and soft laughter grew clearer and he crept down the stairs into the shared living space. He let himself take in the familiarity of the room, nervously tugging at the sleeves of his jumper until they hovered his hands. The kitchen was a hive of activity, most of the boys gathered at the table with the exception of himself and Felix. The small boy moved with an easy grace, his focus on plating food for everyone gathered around the table. It was like he was always dancing, something Hyunjin used to find endearing.
Felix looked up, his eyes meeting Hyunjin's. A warm smile graced his lips, a genuine expression that almost caught him off guard. "Hey, Hyung," he sang. His voice cut above the rest, like it was the only thing Hyunjin could focus on.
Hyunjin froze on the spot, he’d hoped he could slip in and not have anyone take notice, his heart was already beginning to race. He felt exposed, the irrational panic that Felix could see inside his head starting to stifle the tall boy. He hummed politely in response, holding his composure together with fingertips. It’s just Felix. Why was he so highly strung, it was just a hello.
Felix put his loaded plate down and skipped to Hyunjin, his smile inviting. "You hungry? We're almost ready to eat," he offered. His head tilted slightly with the question and his eyes wrinkled with the size of his smile.
Hyunjin wanted to say yes. Or did he? He was hungry, he couldn’t deny that but he had failed earlier with his exercises, he didn’t deserve to eat. The boys barely wanted him in the dorm, let alone to sit down and eat with him so why was Felix lying to him? Hyunjin’s brain was racing with insecurities and the urge to retreat surged within him. He would be safe in his room, he wouldn’t be forced to be fat. He could feel the words bubbling up within him, words he had become all too familiar with—denials, dismissals.
"I'm fine," Hyunjin replied curtly, his voice laced with an edge that would have made him flinch if he had been on the receiving end of it. He looked away, not wanting to see the reaction on Felix’s face. He could have said that kinder but the more he pushed them away, the safer he would be. Leaving his room had been a mistake, too many eyes on him now and too much pressure. From the corner of his eye, Hyunjin could see the other boys taking notice.
Felix's smile faltered for a fraction of a second, a flicker of disappointment that he quickly masked. He just continued to stare at Hyunjin, trying to find the right words to say that might help him. "You know, I used to struggle with food too," he admitted, keeping his voice low to not embarrass either of them.
Hyunjin's eyes snapped back to Felix. This is what he had been trying to avoid. The accusation was evident. The pity that came with it like they could possibly understand what he was going through. None of them would ever understand how it felt, how could they? They would want to take away the only thing he had ever had control over in his life.
His defences were quick to flare up, his walls he built around himself fending off any concern in his delusions that he was better off the way he was. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," he snapped, his voice sharper than he had intended. The words were a heavy lie but admitting it would be harder than hiding it. At least Hyunjin could pretend.
Felix looked defeated, the disappointment evident in his face. He nodded slowly, not wanting to anger the taller boy. "Alright, Hyung," he said soft, too soft. Anger bubbled up in Hyunjin with the sympathy offered to him but he swallowed it down. He didn’t want this, the fake pity made him feel sick and all that was good for him would be if they just left him alone. They were going to leave him anyway, why did they insist on dragging out the inevitable.
He let out a sigh and dragged a hand through his dark hair, ignoring everyone else in the room and retreating back to his room. His steps felt just as heavy as they had coming downstairs but at least he knew he would be safe at the end of it. A bitter tinge of guilt was coating his mouth and he wanted to whisper apologies to his friend, if he would even accept them. He would text him later, tell him he was tired and he didn’t mean to be so rude.
Reaching his room, he closed the door behind him, sealing himself away from the outside world again like it was what he needed. He looked around his room until he saw what he needed, walking to his desk, eyeing the only food he had left hidden in there. Salted rice crackers and water, the only thing he ever managed to keep down at the moment. The irony of his choices wasn't lost on him—the stark contrast between his attempts to control his intake and the support he had just turned away.
In the solitude of his room, something that should be so easy began to swell and bring panic—the simple task of nibbling on a few crackers. He held one gingerly, studying it like he did every time. Numbers flashed through his head, he knew everything on the packet to memory. Anxieties couldn’t be pushed down but the increased groaning from his stomach was so distracting that he had to shut it up.
His fingers trembled as he raised the cracker to his lips, hesitating to even bring it close like proximity to food was as bad as eating it. Each bite was cement in his mouth and his brain screamed relentlessly for him to stop. He chewed with deliberate slowness, delaying swallowing as much as he could as if it would choke him. He’d swallow it whole if he thought he could but having tried that in the past, he knew this was the next best thing.
The panic was overwhelming, Hyunjin was starting to drown in the intrusive thoughts. God, he just needed to eat something small so he could keep up appearances, why was it so impossible? He’d grown up eating these crackers, they were safe, he knew they were safe. He just needed enough bites so the rumbling stopped, the black dots would disappear and no one asked any questions. Hiding, it was all he needed to do, just hide it all away.
Screaming internally, his mind was telling him to stop. Chastising him for doing something so necessary. What was he even thinking? How could he let himself down like this? His imagination conjured images of his reflection distorting before his eyes, his body ballooning in size with each swallow.
Hyunjin wanted to disattach his brain from his body. He was so aware of how foreign the food felt in his mouth that it was harder and harder to stay calm. All he could do was stare at this single spot on his wall, his vision blurring as it grew more and more out of focus and his jaw moved on autopilot. Numb, he needed to be numb. Ignore the voices and the feelings and just exist.
With each bite, the panic began to fade away with the edges of the room. He was working on autopilot now to just try and get through it.He swallowed each bite, his throat tight with buried emotions. The self loathing stung, Hyunjin didn’t know when it had started but being stopped from doing the thing he loved most for five months hadn’t helped it go away. He was slowly losing control of everything and now he couldn’t even manage to stop himself from eating, he was so pathetic.
He carried on though until the last cracker was gone. He hadn’t even realised he had finished the box until his hand stroked the bottom of it and the world came back into focus. A shaky breath escaped him, his head trying to formulate how it felt. He wiped his trembling fingers on a scrap piece of paper, his eyes locked on the empty box as if it held the answers to everything that continued to race through his head.
The room felt quieter now, the blood wasn’t rushing in his face anymore and his heart hadn’t jumped out of his chest. He was still hungry, just slightly less so. Any noises that came from his stomach could be ignored now they weren’t vibrating in his skull. With a heavy sigh, he collapsed on his bed. His eyes traced the patterns on the ceiling as he tried to ignore the growing noises from his fear.
He rolled over slightly, staring at the closed door, the echoes of his encounter with Felix bringing back guilt that settled next to what was already there from eating. He needed to text him but his phone was still abandoned on the other side of the room and nothing was going to make him get out of bed again that night. Instead, he let the seconds tick by and those red numbers on the clock taunted him once more.
-
It was pitch black out and Hyunjin was still lay on his bed, the dorm now wrapped in a heavy silence. The soft glow of his desk lamp cast a warm pool of light on the ceiling above, creating a canvas of shadows and ethereal shapes. His fingers danced aimlessly, tracing invisible patterns against the off-white expanse.
Everything was still now, the only thing to be heard was the rhythmic hum of his breath and the distant sounds of life outside his window. He focused on the world above him, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as if it held the answers to the questions he couldn't voice.
Fingers moved with a grace born of habit, sketching intangible forms in the air. Yet, despite his attempts to give shape to his emotions, they remained elusive, slipping through his grasp like smoke. The emptiness within him was a void he couldn't fill, a vast expanse of nothingness that seemed to stretch on forever.
He used to love painting, it was all he could think about. He had dipped his brushes into colours he didn’t even think he could have imagined and he would let all of his emotion come to life on whatever he had to paint on. But now, the paints and canvases lay untouched, gathering dust in a corner of his room. He couldn't remember the last time he had the strength to even look at them.
His fingers continued their silent dance on the ceiling, he tried to will his imagination to take shape, to materialise into something he could understand. But they remained stubbornly formless, remaining a mess he didn’t have the will or want to untangle.
Hyunjin's attention remained fixed on the ceiling, his silence starting to feel more and more isolating. He longed for the days when he could express himself through art, when he didn’t need to talk about it because he could get all the anguish out. But now, he felt trapped within the confines of his own emptiness, unable to break free.
Night passed by around him, the room growing darker as it all ticked by. Hyunjin's fingers gradually stilled, his movements slowing until they came to a halt. He closed his eyes, longing growing in his chest.
The room became cloaked in inky night, the tall boy clicking his lamp off. Hyunjin didn’t move, afraid even a twitch would invite the walls to crash down and consume him. The ceiling disappeared and his covers itched. But not a centimetre, not even a hair movement. He could keep it all away if he just stayed still and pretended it didn’t exist anymore.