♮Idol au
♮"I don't think I can do it."
"Of course you can, I believe in you.
Don't worry, okay?
I'll be right here backstage for you."
Book 3 in the Dreaming series
Book cover: @ chaaxou on instagram
You swore that you loved me but where were the clues? I died on the altar waiting for the proof
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Jisung was heartbroken. Utterly heartbroken.
There were no words, none, to even begin to describe the depth of his heartbreak. Sitting on the edge of his bed, his shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him, he buried his face in his hands.
The room was silent except for the sound of his ragged breathing, punctuated by the occasional sniffle.
His palms pressed against his eyes, the sting of tears mixed with the coldness of his skin. He felt hollow, as though a vital part of him had been ripped away, leaving behind only an aching void.
Every word Hayun had said echoed in his mind, replaying over and over like a relentless loop. He could still see the hurt in her eyes, the way she had turned away, unable to look at him any longer. He could still hear her voice, cracking with pain, and the crushing finality in her tone.
Jisung tried to steady his breath, but each inhale was jagged, as if his lungs were too small to contain the weight of his sorrow. He could almost feel the echoes of her presence in the room, the warmth of her smile, the softness of her touch, now replaced by the cold, empty space she had left behind.
His mind was a turbulent sea of regret and confusion. He replayed their moments together, the good and the bad, and wondered where things had gone wrong. The realisation that he had failed to bridge the gap between them, that he had pushed her away despite his love, was a bitter pill to swallow.
He reached for his phone, but it felt like a cruel reminder of the unanswered messages, the missed calls.
Jisung's thoughts were a whirlwind, every moment of their time together now tinged with the sharp edge of regret.
He wished he had been braver, that he had fought harder for her, that he had been able to communicate his fears and insecurities before it was too late.
But the moments of courage had come too late, and the damage was done.
With a final, shuddering breath, he let his hands fall away from his face, staring blankly at the floor. His eyes were red and swollen, and his vision was blurred by the tears that still streaked down his cheeks. The silence of the room was deafening, a stark contrast to the chaos of emotions that raged within him.
Jisung remained there, motionless, as the minutes dragged on. His heart ached with a pain so profound that it felt as though it would never heal. He was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of his broken heart pressing heavily on his chest, and the haunting realization that the one person who had meant everything to him was now gone.
Hours had passed since Jisung had shut himself in his room, the evening slipping away as he remained sat on his bed.
The room was dim, illuminated only by the soft light from the bedside lamp that cast shadows on the walls. Jisung's breathing was uneven, his chest heaving with the weight of his grief, and his tears had long since stained his cheeks.
