𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙢𝙮 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯

[❁] thirty-seven

San 😺🌋
I have Selective Mutism.

Wooyoung had put together a puzzle inside his head. All messages, all interactions with San were neatly assembled, one puzzle piece next to another. Only up to this moment, he hadn't been able to understand the picture.

And it had been the most beautiful of pictures, until he found colours he didn't know, shapes he couldn't explain and a creeping feeling that there must be more to it. The answer had been lying on the tip of his tongue, so close he could taste it, still, he simply hadn't found a way to make sense of it all. Staring at the pieces for hours, he wasn't willing to give up as he had not yet lost faith in its goodness. So he tried to find the missing piece, tried to find what dared to sabotage its beauty.

Wooyoung could hear the wheels turning inside his head, his thoughts spiralling, going over every single thing he knew about San, only this time he had that piece of knowledge he couldn't even begin to imagine before. He remembered a post from a few weeks back when everyone in the comment section had known what was going on, only he was left confused at what had sparked San's resignation about other people's ignorance. No doubt, he had been talking about their ignorance towards a person with selective mutism, with certainty having been confronted with some sort of conflict that day. He also thought back to his absolutely idiotic phone call on his birthday and that, the next day, he had annoyed San with endless questions about what the other had talked about, because he couldn't recall his voice. Oh god, he had pestered San back then. If only he had known that there was nothing to remember because San had in fact not spoken a single word.

With an uneasy feeling he realized that every mysterious message, all the things San had ever left unsaid, could possibly be lead back to this one fact; Choi San suffered from selective mutism.

His nervousness about finally finding out what San had been struggling with had melted into thin air at the arrival of San's message. Instead his eyes were fixed on those black letters of the message and his mind had fallen into stillness. Wooyoung didn't know how to react. He could barely comprehend what San just told him, much less know how to deal with it. What was the appropriate reaction to your friend, who you trust and genuinely care fore, telling you he had a serious medical condition?

A ping rang through the silent room as a new message arrived.

San 😺🌋
please say something

It was a pang to his heart. Wooyoung didn't have to lift his gaze to see the vulnerability and uncertainty on San's face, the message spoke for itself. His eyes found San anyway. He was looking at him, his guard was down and Wooyoung could feel his heart beat increase as he felt San's nervousness tug on his heart.

He just didn't want to believe it. The sheer truth felt heavy on his chest as he fought off the thoughts of what San must have gone through, must go through every single day. San couldn't be mute, he shouldn't be. Wooyoung wanted to believe this was a joke, a prank to fool him like his group members liked to play them. But despite his best efforts to convince himself that the world wasn't so cruel to condemn innocent people into a life of silence, he knew in his heart, there was no point in denying it.

He looked into San's eyes and all he could see was the pain that it caused him, the gravity of the situation slowly dawning on him. As much as he wanted to believe it to be untrue, it wasn't. It was reality and he would have to deal with it.

Shakily, he took a breath and opened his mouth to speak, but a lump in his throat prevented any sound from coming out. As inconspicuously as possible he coughed. His voice still sounded croaky, this time, however, he didn't care. Although he was barely able to comprehend this situation, he had to try. For San. "How long? Since when are you..."