Hoshi pushes himself too hard, constantly feeling like he has to prove himself as the group's choreographer. The members start to notice his health declining, but Hoshi brushes off their concerns, desperate to maintain his reputation.
Eventually, Hoshi collapses from exhaustion during practice, forcing the members to confront the unhealthy expectations they've placed on him and that he has placed on himself.
The group struggles to balance their anger at his recklessness with their guilt for not seeing how much pressure he was under.
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Seungcheol paced the hallway outside the practice room, his mind racing with worry.
Inside, the rest of the members murmured in low voices, their faces etched with concern.
Seokmin leaned against the mirrored wall, his brows drawn together as he stared at the floor, lost in thought.
Even Wonwoo, normally so calm and collected, had his arms folded tightly across his chest, his expression tense.
No one knew what to say.
They had all seen the signs, Hoshi's late nights at the studio, the increasingly deep circles under his eyes, the way he would stumble from exhaustion but laugh it off as if it was nothing.
But no one had pressed him too hard.
Hoshi was their choreographer, their dance leader, and he carried that title with pride.
The last thing they wanted was to make him feel like they doubted him.
Yet now he lay in a hospital bed, and the guilt hung over them like a weight they couldn't shake.
Joshua was the first to break the silence.
"I knew he was pushing himself hard, but -"
His voice trailed off, guilt lacing every word.
"We all did,"
Seungkwan muttered, his voice barely a whisper.
"But he wouldn't listen, and none of us wanted to push him too far."
"So we just let him?"
Mingyu's voice was uncharacteristically quiet, a mix of anger and sadness.
He clenched his fists, and Seungcheol could see the frustration in his eyes.
They were all feeling it, the shame, the anger, the regret.
It was like a mirror had been held up, forcing them to confront the reality they'd all ignored.
"He didn't want us to worry,"
Jun added softly, but his voice held a tinge of bitterness.
"He probably thought he'd be fine if he just held on a bit longer, kept working just a bit harder."
