untitled ; 2024

shattered road

The past few days had been a blur of sorrow and exhaustion. The weight of Donghae's father's passing had settled heavily on the group, and they had all rallied around Donghae, doing their best to comfort him through the devastating loss. The trip to Mokpo for the funeral had been somber, with an air of quiet support among the members. Hyun-jeong had stayed by Donghae's side, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of grief that threatened to overwhelm him.

Heechul had been one of the last to leave the small, humble funeral home in Mokpo, lingering to offer a few more words of comfort to Donghae and his family. As he finally headed out to the car waiting to take him back to Seoul, he had felt a strange sense of foreboding, though he brushed it off as the lingering weight of the past few days.

The roads were dark and quiet as Heechul sat in the backseat of the car, staring blankly out the window. The trees blurred past, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers. His mind wandered, replaying the scenes from the past few days. The sight of Donghae crumbling at the news of his father's death. The tearful goodbyes at the funeral. The cold, unyielding grip of mortality that had seemed to tighten around all of them.

Heechul sighed, leaning his head back against the seat. The exhaustion was starting to take its toll, and he let his eyes drift shut, trying to shut out the persistent ache in his heart. But sleep wouldn't come, only a heavy, restless unease.

Suddenly, the car lurched violently, snapping Heechul's eyes open. The world tilted, and in a heartbeat, everything descended into chaos. There was a deafening crash, the sound of metal twisting and tearing, and then pain—searing, blinding pain.

Heechul didn't remember much after that. The world went dark, his consciousness slipping away as he was thrown into the void of oblivion.

The news hit the members like a sledgehammer. They had just begun to recover from the emotional toll of Donghae's father's death, trying to find some semblance of normalcy, when the call came in.

"Heechul's been in an accident."

The words echoed in Hyun-jeong's mind, her hand gripping the phone so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest. She was back at Donghae's home, having stayed behind with his family while the others slowly trickled back to Seoul. The world seemed to spin, the ground falling away beneath her feet.

"What? What do you mean he's been in an accident?" Hyun-jeong's voice trembled, barely above a whisper. Her mind raced, a thousand terrible scenarios flashing before her eyes. The memory of Donghae's sobs was still fresh, she couldn't bear the thought of another tragedy.

The voice on the other end of the line was calm but serious. "He was in a car accident on the way back from Mokpo. It's bad, Hyun-jeong. He's in surgery now."

Her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the floor, the phone slipping from her hand. She could hear voices in the background, distant and muffled, as though they were coming from another world. The image of Heechul, always so vibrant and full of life, flashed in her mind, now broken and fragile.

Donghae appeared in the doorway, alarmed by the sound of her falling. "Hyun-jeong, what happened?" His voice was hoarse, still raw from days of crying.

She couldn't bring herself to look at him. How could she tell him that the man who had just been at his side, comforting him in his darkest hour, was now fighting for his own life? The cruel irony of it twisted her heart.

"It's Heechul oppa," she managed to choke out, her voice cracking. "He... he's been in a car accident."

Donghae froze, the colour draining from his face. For a moment, he looked like a ghost, all the life drained out of him. He swayed on his feet, gripping the doorframe for support. "No," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Not Heechul hyung."

Tears welled up in Hyun-jeong's eyes, spilling over as she reached out to him. "They said it's bad, oppa. He's in surgery. We... we need to go to the hospital."

The drive to the hospital was a blur of flashing lights and muted sirens. Hyun-jeong sat in the backseat, Donghae beside her, both of them clinging to each other as if they could somehow stave off the impending tragedy. The weight of the past week pressed down on them like a vice, squeezing the air from their lungs, leaving them gasping for breath.

When they arrived, the rest of the members were already there, gathered in the sterile, too-bright waiting room. The atmosphere was thick with fear and uncertainty, each of them grappling with the terrible reality that had once again descended upon them.

The hours dragged by in a torturous haze, punctuated only by the occasional murmur of doctors and nurses passing by. No one spoke much; the silence was too oppressive, too filled with the weight of what could be lost.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the surgeon emerged, his expression grave. Everyone rose to their feet, hearts in their throats.

"He's stable," the doctor said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "But it was close. He sustained multiple fractures in his leg, and we had to insert metal rods to stabilize the bones. He's going to need a lot of time to recover, and even then... there may be long-term effects."

The relief was palpable, but it was tinged with the bitter sting of reality. Heechul would survive, but he wouldn't be the same. The vibrant, fearless man they all knew would have to face a long, painful road to recovery, and none of them could predict what the future would hold.

Hyun-jeong felt a tear slip down her cheek, followed by another, and another. She couldn't stop them, nor did she try. The overwhelming sadness, the fear, the relief—it all came crashing down on her at once. Donghae squeezed her hand, his own eyes red and swollen, and together they sank back into their seats, trying to process the new world they now found themselves in.

This was not the end of their struggles; it was merely another beginning. A darker, more uncertain path lay ahead, one filled with more pain and heartache. But as they sat there, surrounded by their friends—their family—they knew they wouldn't face it alone.

Yet, the lingering sadness, the hollow ache in their chests, would stay with them for a long, long time.