𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃

𝟎𝟎𝟏

The bright lights of the stage flickered, casting long shadows across the room as the members of Enhypen wrapped up another rehearsal. Jake stood at the edge, drenched in sweat, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He could feel the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders, the noise around him fading into a distant hum. His brothers, his fellow members, were laughing, joking, oblivious to the storm that raged inside him.

For weeks now, something had been eating away at him, clawing from the inside out. The expectations, the pressure, the relentless pace of being Jake Sim-the idol, the perfection everyone saw-was slowly suffocating him. But he hadn't told anyone. Not Heeseung, who was always watching out for the group like an older brother. Not Jay, who could see through everyone's facade but somehow never questioned Jake's. Not Sunghoon or Jungwon or Sunoo. Not even Ni-ki, the maknae with his ever-watchful gaze.

It wasn't that Jake didn't trust them. He did, more than anyone else in the world. But the idea of burdening them with his darkness, his unraveling, felt too heavy. They already had so much on their plates. Who was he to add more? He was supposed to be strong. He was supposed to be the one holding everything together.

But he wasn't.

He ran a hand through his damp hair, letting out a shaky breath as he glanced at the mirror. His reflection stared back, hollow eyes framed by dark circles he could no longer hide with makeup. His skin looked pale, almost ghostly under the harsh lights, and for the first time in a long while, he barely recognized himself.

"Jake, you okay?" Heeseung's voice pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts.

Jake forced a smile, the same one he had perfected over the years. The same smile that had become second nature, even when it felt like a lie. "Yeah, I'm good. Just tired."

Heeseung gave him a look, one that lingered for a moment too long, but he nodded, turning his attention back to the others. Jake exhaled in relief. It was always the same. Just keep smiling. Just keep pretending. It was easier that way.

As the members gathered their things and started heading out of the studio, Jake lagged behind. His legs felt heavy, his chest tightening with each breath. Alone now, in the quiet of the empty rehearsal room, the walls felt like they were closing in. He leaned against the mirror, his forehead pressing against the cold glass.

For the first time, he let the mask slip. His hands clenched into fists, and his body trembled as the emotions he had been holding back for so long threatened to tear him apart. He didn't cry-he hadn't cried in months. But the pain was there, raw and relentless, burning beneath his skin.

I can't do this anymore.

But he had to.

The silence in the studio became oppressive, thick with the weight of Jake's thoughts. His breath hitched as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold it all in, to push it all back down where no one could see. He had become an expert at that-locking his pain away, hiding behind his smile. He had to. For the fans. For the group. For everyone.

The door creaked open, and Jake froze, his heart leaping into his throat. He hastily wiped at his face, even though no tears had fallen.

"Jake?"

It was Sunghoon. Of course it was. Out of all the members, Sunghoon was the one who always seemed to notice when something wasn't right, even when Jake tried his hardest to hide it.

Jake straightened, forcing another smile. "Hey, didn't realize you were still here."

Sunghoon didn't respond immediately. His eyes flickered across Jake's face, his usually unreadable expression shifting into something more concerned, more cautious. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

"I forgot my phone," Sunghoon said quietly, though Jake had the sinking feeling that wasn't the real reason he had come back. "But... are you okay? You've been acting kind of off lately."

Jake's heart pounded in his chest. He hated this-hated that Sunghoon could see through him so easily. But the words were on the tip of his tongue, the truth that had been festering inside him for months. He wanted to tell someone, anyone, just how much he was struggling, how everything was falling apart. But the thought of burdening Sunghoon, of admitting that he wasn't the strong, dependable Jake that everyone expected, made him feel sick.

"I'm fine," Jake said quickly, too quickly. He could see the disbelief in Sunghoon's eyes, but he pushed forward. "Just tired, like I said before."

Sunghoon didn't buy it. He took a step closer, his voice soft but firm. "Jake, come on. You can talk to me. You know that, right?"

Jake's smile faltered. His chest ached with the pressure of holding it all in, of pretending that he was okay when every day felt like he was drowning. He wanted to say something, to admit just how lost he felt. But the words wouldn't come.

"I... I don't want to drag you guys into it," Jake muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "You all have enough to deal with. I can handle it."

"Jake, that's not how it works," Sunghoon said, his voice strained with concern. "We're a team. We're supposed to help each other, not go through this alone."

Jake's breath hitched again, and he bit his lip, trying to keep the tears at bay. But it was too much. The exhaustion, the loneliness, the constant pressure-it all came crashing down around him.

"I can't do this anymore, Sunghoon," Jake whispered, his voice cracking. "I don't even know who I am outside of this. Outside of Jake from Enhypen. And I'm so tired. I'm so tired of pretending like I'm okay when I'm not."

The words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Sunghoon's eyes softened, and for a moment, he didn't say anything. He simply closed the distance between them and placed a hand on Jake's shoulder, his grip warm and steady.

"You don't have to pretend with us," Sunghoon said quietly. "You don't have to do this alone."

Jake's breath hitched again, and this time, he couldn't stop the tears from spilling over. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, as if that could somehow stop the flood, but it was too late. The dam had broken. Months of pent-up frustration, fear, and exhaustion poured out of him, shaking his entire frame.

Sunghoon pulled him into a hug, firm but gentle, like he understood how fragile Jake felt in that moment. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Jake let himself fall apart.

"I'm sorry," Jake choked out, his voice muffled against Sunghoon's shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," Sunghoon whispered, holding him tighter. "You're human, Jake. You're allowed to feel like this."

The studio was quiet, save for the sound of Jake's ragged breathing and Sunghoon's calm, steady presence. For the first time in months, Jake felt like he wasn't alone in his suffering. And maybe, just maybe, he didn't have to carry it all by himself anymore.