Kpop Sickfics / Hurtfics

🐯 Woozi - Is It Too Late? - Part 2

~ Woozi's POV ~

Something hurts, but where?

I'm kind of used to pain by now, it comes with being a performer. The many hours of training and dancing every day, the performances, where you have to push yourself to the absolute limit, sometimes even further. That comes sacrifices.

My head.

I don't think I've ever experienced this much pain. It felt like my head was getting hit, kicked, cut and crushed all at the same time. I couldn't even form a normal, full thought, I was just laying there, helplessly waiting for it to end.

But it didn't.

I opened my eyes finally, but I had to close them quickly, the lights over me were burning my retinas, and I felt like I became blind. After a minute, I tried again. This time, I was able to take in the sharp light, and could look around a bit. I was on the floor of my studio, looking at the ceiling. It was freezing in there, and I was shivering uncontrollably. My limbs felt like they were dipped in ice water, and I could barely move them.

I tried turning my head a bit, when the pain in my head became ten times worse. I tried holding my head, but couldn't move my arm. Finally, I was able to turn my head to the right, when I saw a big pool of blood. Then I pieced it together.

I must have fallen, hit my head, and then fainted. The sight of my own blood made me nauseous, so I had to turn away. I laid there for a while, trying not to throw up.

I needed help, very quickly. I needed to call somebody.

My phone was on the floor too, a few feet away from me, I had no chance of reaching it. I almost gave up, and accepted my fate, when I had an idea.

- Hey, Siri. – My voice was hoarse, and it hurt to speak.

The familiar chime of Siri listening was music to my ears. The sound came through the speakers, I knew it was a good idea to connect them to my phone.

- Call, uh, call Seungcheol. – I knew he had the passcode to the studio, and he was my best chance of being found.

- Calling Seungcheol. – All I could do, was wait and hope. Hope, that his phone wasn't on mute, that he had his phone with him at all.

- Jihun?? Are you okay? We called you like a million times, what happened? – Thank god. His voice sounded worried and afraid.

- Hyung... - That's all I managed to say, before a coughing fit rendered me speechless.

- Oh my god, what is happening? Are you okay, say something! We're on our way to the studio, we'll arrive in 5 minutes!

- Hurry, please. Help... - Sounds started trailing off, my surroundings became a blur, and I felt myself sinking down.

- Stay on the line, Jihun, don't hang up! What happened?

- ...

- Say something, for the love of god, you got me worried sick! Are you there? Hello?

I wanted to tell him, that I heard him, and I'm glad he's on the way, but even breathing seemed like too big of a task. I tried to fight the fatigue, but in the end, I was too weak.

I let go, once again.

~ Seungcheol's POV ~

- Say something, for the love of god, you got me worried sick! Are you there? Hello? – When I saw him calling, I was relieved at first, but it quickly turned into more fear. His voice was distant, as if he was in the other end of the room. But more importantly, he sounded so ill.