As I held him, something else caught my eye—a stuffed panda. Its once white fur had turned a dull gray, a testament to years of loving wear, and dust clung to its glassy, golden-silver eyes. It seemed to call my name, whispering from a place deep in my memory. My gaze then fell upon a lavender dummy with a dolphin attached. It, too, seemed to beckon, the name "Cheolie" echoing in my mind. The pull was strong, but I forced myself to look away before the urge to take it overpowered me.
I pushed the feelings aside, convincing myself I didn't need these remnants of childhood. I was an adult, after all. I held Woozi closer, his soft hair slipping through my fingers like silk, trying to block out the persistent call of the box that held the toys.
In the kitchen, I set Woozi down, ensuring we were far from the box. We all gathered there, enjoying a rare, peaceful meal together. Today's schedule was different; Woozi was in his studio, the Hip Hop Team (Wonwoo, Mingyu, Vernon, and I) had rap practice, and the Performance Team (Hoshi, Jun, The8, and Dino) had special stages on SBS. The rest of the vocal unit stayed with Woozi, adhering to our unspoken rule of never leaving him alone due to his fears of thunderstorms and the dark. Despite my hidden fears, I remained silent, worried no one would believe me given my strong façade.
After practice, about four and a half hours in, a sharp headache struck me. The room started to spin, and I excused myself, making my way to the dorm. Just as I reached the entrance, darkness enveloped me, and I fainted.
When I woke, I found myself in my bed. Glancing around, I saw the Dummy and Suffer Panda on my nightstands. Smiling, I cuddled the stuffed animal, momentarily forgetting everything else. Quietly, I slipped out of bed and headed to the living room, where I saw our manager. His presence, though mundane, brought a fleeting sense of reassurance.
Alone again, I sank into the couch, closing my eyes as every sound outside seemed to magnify. The room felt suffocating, my headache worsening with each passing moment. I groaned, the spinning sensation returning, and nausea rising. Desperation welled up in a whine, just as a familiar voice pierced through my discomfort.
"Seung, are you okay?" Woozi's arms wrapped around me, and I instinctively snuggled closer, seeking solace. His heartbeat was a calming rhythm that lulled me into a peaceful sleep, shielded from the overwhelming world around us.
As I sat in the kitchen, memories of our past activities flooded my mind. The kitchen was filled with the sounds of clinking cutlery and soft chatter. The aroma of home-cooked food mingled with the scent of fresh coffee, creating a comforting atmosphere. Each member was engrossed in their meal, yet there was an unspoken bond that tied us together.
Woozi, always so focused on his work, seemed more relaxed today. His usually furrowed brow was smooth, and a soft smile played on his lips as he chatted with Mingyu about a new song idea. Wonwoo and Vernon were deep in conversation about a new book Wonwoo had recommended. Their animated discussion added a lively energy to the room.
Hoshi, Jun, The8, and Dino were excitedly talking about their upcoming performance, their eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. Their passion was contagious, and even though I was tired, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and camaraderie.
As we finished our meal, the sunlight streaming through the window bathed the room in a warm glow, adding to the serene ambience. We cleaned up together, each movement synchronized from years of practice. There was a sense of routine, yet it never felt mundane. Every moment spent together was cherished, even in the simplest tasks.
We prepared to go our separate ways for practice. The Hip Hop Team headed to the practice room, while the Performance Team left for SBS. Woozi and the vocal unit returned to the studio, each of us ready to tackle the day's challenges. Despite the busy schedule, there was a sense of unity and support that kept us grounded.
As the hours passed, the relentless pounding in my head grew worse. The mirrored walls of the practice room seemed to close in on me, each reflection distorting into a nightmarish version of myself. The fluorescent lights above flickered ominously, casting eerie shadows that danced and twisted, amplifying my growing sense of dread.
I pushed through the routine, each beat of the music a sharp jab in my temples. Sweat dripped down my face, but it felt cold and clammy. My vision blurred, the edges of my sight darkening as if I were peering through a tunnel. My movements became sluggish, and I knew I couldn't keep this up. I needed to rest.
"I need a break," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. No one seemed to hear me at first, but as I staggered towards the door, I felt a few concerned eyes follow me. Each step felt like I was trudging through quicksand, my legs heavy and uncooperative. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly before me, the fluorescent lights casting harsh, sterile beams that only intensified the throbbing in my head.
The cool air hit my face as I stumbled over the sidewalk, I walked through the dorm entrance, but it did little to alleviate the dizziness that overwhelmed me. My breathing grew labored, and the walls seemed to pulse with my heartbeat, closing in and out like a living organism. My vision swam, and I could barely make out the familiar shapes of the surrounding furniture.
Darkness crept in from the corners of my eyes, a shadowy fog that dulled my senses and heightened my fear. My mind raced, thoughts jumbled and incoherent. Each step felt like a battle, my body refusing to cooperate. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing like a drum, and the world around me began to spin violently.
I reached out to steady myself, my hand brushing against the wall, but the cold, solid surface felt unreal, like a mirage. My knees buckled, and the last thing I saw was the floor rushing up to meet me.
Darkness engulfed me, and I collapsed, unable to fight the overwhelming fatigue any longer.
When I awoke, the familiar surroundings of my room greeted me. The sight of Dummy and Suffer Panda on my nightstands brought a sense of comfort. Their presence was a reminder of simpler times, a connection to the past that grounded me in the present.
I quietly slipped out of bed, the lingering headache a dull throb. Making my way to the living room, I found our manager. His calm demeanor was a reassuring presence. He noticed me and gave me a small, encouraging smile before leaving, understanding that I needed some space.
Alone in the living room, I sank into the couch and closed my eyes. The world outside seemed louder, each sound magnified by my headache. The distant hum of traffic, the chirping of birds, and even the rustling of leaves seemed to penetrate the walls. I tried to block it out, focusing on my breathing to center myself.
The headache worsened, and I felt the room spinning once more. I groaned, frustration and pain mingling as nausea rose. Desperation welled up, and I let out a whine, feeling vulnerable and overwhelmed.
"Seung, are you okay?" Woozi's voice cut through the fog of my discomfort. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a warm embrace. I instinctively snuggled closer, seeking solace in his presence. His heartbeat was a steady rhythm, a soothing melody that calmed my racing thoughts.
I buried my face in his chest, blocking out the harsh light and noise. The world outside faded away, and I focused on the steady rise and fall of his breathing. His hand gently stroked my hair, each touch a reminder that I wasn't alone.
Slowly, the tension in my body eased, and I allowed myself to relax. The warmth of Woozi's embrace, the steady beat of his heart, and the gentle rhythm of his breathing lulled me into a peaceful sleep. In his arms, I found the strength to face another day.
