broken glass | woosan

~25~

WOOYOUNG'S POV

The incident with the CEO left a thick tension in the practice room . Hongjoong, ever the leader, decided to call it a day. We all nodded in agreement, the weight of what had just happened still hanging heavy in the air.

As the others began to gather their things, San approached me with concern etched on his face. "Where are you going?" he asked softly.

I gave him a small smile, trying to reassure him. "I just want to do some vocal lessons or maybe work on some choreography."

San's expression softened, but his eyes still held a hint of worry. "Don't work too hard, alright? And call me if you need anything."

With a quick kiss, we parted ways. San headed off to the gym with Yeosang, Yunho, and Mingi, while I stayed behind in the practice room. The silence that followed was almost comforting, a complete contrast to the chaos from earlier.

As the door closed behind them, the quiet of the practice room began to feel oppressive. I look over to the floor, the place San found me just a week ago. A shiver travels down my spine recalling his cries and pleas.

Old doubts and fears began to resurface, swirling around me like a dark fog. The practice room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a prison. Memories of past failures and harsh criticisms echoed in my mind, each one chipping away at my confidence.

I tried to shake it off, moving to the center of the room to work on some choreography. But with every step, I felt myself slipping further into that dark place. My movements became frantic, driven by a desperate need to prove myself, to escape the suffocating weight of my own expectations.

The mirrors lining the walls seemed to mock me, reflecting the worst version of myself. The one who wasn't good enough, who would never be good enough. I could feel the panic rising, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

I sank to the floor, my body trembling with exhaustion and frustration. The practice room, once filled with dreams and aspirations, now felt like it was haunted by my own insecurities. I buried my face in my hands, fighting back tears.

In that moment of despair, I remembered San's words. "Don't work too hard."

I took a deep breath, trying to focus on San's voice in my mind. His warmth, his unwavering support. Slowly, I lifted my head and looked around the practice room. It was still the same place where we had shared countless laughs, where we had poured our hearts into our dreams. But now, it felt like a battleground, a place where I had to confront my darkest fears.

I stood up, my legs shaky but determined. I walked over to the mirror and stared at my reflection. "You are not the worst version of yourself," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "You are stronger than your doubts. You are more than your failures."

The words felt hollow at first, but I kept repeating them, louder and more confident with each repetition. I could feel a small spark of hope igniting within me, pushing back against the darkness. I wasn't alone in this fight. I had my members, my friends, and most importantly, I had San.

With renewed determination, I started to dance again. This time, not to prove anything, but to remind myself of who I was and why I loved what I did. The music flowed through me, each movement a testament to my resilience and passion.

As the last notes of the song faded, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. The practice room no longer felt like a haunted space. It was a place where I could confront my fears and emerge stronger. I knew the journey ahead wouldn't be easy, but I also knew I had the strength to face it.

I gathered my things. Just as I was about to step out of the practice room, my phone buzzed. It was a message from San: "I'm outside. Thought you might need some company."