my silly kpop non-idols au

Yesung's nightmare (💙SUJU)

The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow across the room. Yesung, a young man in his early-fourties, lay sprawled across his unmade bed. His dark hair stuck out in every direction, a testament to his restless sleep. The digital clock on his nightstand blinked 10:20 AM, and a groan escaped his lips. He had overslept again.

With a heavy sigh, he threw back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His bare feet touched the cool hardwood floor, and he took a moment to stretch out the kinks from his body. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted from the kitchen, a beacon calling him to face the day. As he shuffled towards the bathroom, the shuffling of his feet on the floorboards created a gentle rhythm.

The bathroom door was already closed, and he could hear the shower running. "Damn," he murmured to himself. Yesung's roommate, Kyuhyun, had beaten him to it. He leaned his forehead against the cool wood, feeling the mist from the steamy shower against his skin. It was going to be a race against the clock now to get ready for work. He glanced around the hallway, his eyes landing on the pile of clean laundry he had meant to fold the night before. It seemed to have multiplied overnight.

But as he turned to head back to his bedroom, his heart skipped a beat. The door was closed and blocked just like the bathroom. Panic began to set in, his mind racing. "This isn't possible," he whispered, reaching out to touch the doorknob. It was cold and unyielding, as if the room had swallowed it whole. The same inexplicable force that had trapped him in the bathroom now barred his way to his sanctuary. He stepped back, trying to gather his thoughts. The hallway was eerily silent except for the distant hum of the shower.

Yesung took a deep breath and moved down the corridor, his hand hovering over the other doors. Each one met the same fate, refusing to budge. He knocked softly, calling out to the other members of their shared house. Silence answered his pleas. A creeping dread began to fill his chest, tightening like a vice. He tried the last door, Kyuhyun's room, and found it also blocked. His mind raced with possibilities, none of them good. Where was everyone? Why couldn't he get in?

The only escape was the front door, but as he approached, his stomach dropped. The same cold, unyielding force sealed it shut. He could see the outline of the door through the frosted glass, the outside world just out of reach. The house had become a prison, each room a silent, untouchable cell. His eyes darted around the entrance hall, searching for anything that could help. The only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall, each second a painful reminder of the time slipping away.

In a moment of desperation, Yesung dashed to the living room and peered through the window. His breath fogged up the glass as he squinted into the sunlit street. His heart pounded in his chest as he saw the city beyond, eerily still and silent. The buildings stood tall, but the roads were empty of cars, the sidewalks bare of pedestrians. The leaves on the trees outside were frozen in place, as if time itself had paused. It was as if the whole world had been put on hold, except for the relentless ticking that echoed in his ears.

He turned to the dining room, where the large bay windows offered a clear view of the neighborhood. There it was, the hospital where he worked, a block away. But something was wrong. The lights inside were off, the doors shut tight, and the parking lot was empty. It looked abandoned. Yesung's eyes grew wide with horror as he realized that the same force that trapped him in the house had sealed the hospital, too. He could see the ghosts of his colleagues moving about in the dim light, but they were trapped as well, going through the motions of their jobs without ever leaving their stations.

The world outside had transformed into a silent, unmoving tableau. The sight was surreal, and his breath hitched in his chest. It was just a dream, Yesung told himself, his heart racing. He had to wake up. He pinched his arm hard, but the pain didn't dissipate the image before him. He stumbled backward, his legs giving way, and fell into a chair. The chair felt cold and solid under him, a stark contrast to the unreality of the scene outside.

Forcing himself to move, Yesung pushed himself to his feet and made his way back down the hallway. Each step echoed through the empty house, amplifying his fear. He reached the bathroom door, his hand shaking as he tried the knob again. This time, it turned with ease. The shower was still running, steam billowing out into the hall. He stepped inside, the tiles cool under his feet, and turned the faucet to full blast. The sound of the water was reassuringly normal, a comforting cacophony amidst the silence.

To his surprise, the bathroom mirror didn't show his reflection, but instead, it revealed a scene from the house. The members of their household, dressed and ready, were casually leaving their rooms. They talked and laughed as they gathered in the living room, their voices muffled by the barrier that separated him from them. They didn't seem to notice anything amiss, and as he watched them, Yesung felt the panic begin to recede. If they could move freely, then maybe it was all in his head. Maybe it was some sort of bizarre nightmare.

With trembling hands, Yesung turned off the shower and opened the bathroom door. The hallway was once again open, and the sounds of life filled the house. He took a deep breath and stepped out, trying to shake off the last remnants of fear. Kyuhyun emerged from his room, looking surprised to see him. "You okay?" Kyuhyun asked, a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still damp from the shower.

"Yeah," Yesung replied, his voice shakier than he'd have liked. "Just had a weird... I don't know, a weird moment."

Kyuhyun studied him for a moment before nodding and heading back into his room. Yesung took the opportunity to quickly dress, pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and made his way downstairs. The aroma of breakfast filled the air, a comforting scent of eggs and toast that seemed to anchor him back in reality. The sound of plates clinking and muted laughter grew louder as he descended. His bandmates, Donghae, Eunhyuk, and Ryeowook, were all sitting around the dining table, digging into their meals with gusto.

They looked up as he entered, and for a split second, their expressions shifted to concern before quickly morphing back into smiles. "Finally up, sleepyhead," Donghae teased, throwing a napkin at him. "You're going to be late for work again."

"Thanks," Yesung mumbled, trying to push the unease aside. He grabbed a plate and filled it with food, his appetite returning with the normalcy of the scene. As they ate, the tension in the room dissipated, and the banter picked up as if nothing had happened. They talked about their plans for the day, upcoming rehearsals, and the latest gossip in the K-pop world. It was easy to get lost in the conversation, to let the warmth of their company wash over him like a blanket.

Once breakfast was finished and the dishes cleared, Yesung checked his watch. It was already 10:45 AM. He'd have to rush to make it to work on time. "Let's go," he said, leading the way out of the house. The door opened without issue, and the crisp autumn air greeted him, bringing with it the sounds of the bustling city. The sight of the bus stop was a welcome relief, a piece of the world that made sense in this puzzle of a morning.

As they stepped onto the sidewalk, Kyuhyun nudged him playfully. "Look who's eager to face the music," he said, grinning. Yesung managed a chuckle, his heart still racing from the odd events inside the house. But as they approached the corner, his smile froze. There they were, lined up on the street as if waiting for a parade that would never come: Siwon, Leeteuk, Shindong, Heechul, Sungmin, Zhoumi, Hangeng, Henry, Kangin, and Kibum. They were all dressed in their Super Junior outfits, their faces a mix of surprise and confusion.

Heechul looked up from his phone and called out, "What's got you spooked, Yesung?" The others turned, and their eyes grew wide when they saw the fear in Yesung's eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. How could he explain the impossible? How could he tell them about the silent house, the unyielding doors, and the trapped reflections in the mirror?

Donghae clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You're not going to believe this," he said, his voice low. "But we all had weird dreams last night. Maybe it's some kind of... I don't know, collective subconscious thing." Yesung felt a flicker of hope. Could it be that simple? A shared nightmare, a trick of the mind? He took a deep breath, letting the normalcy of the street noises wash over him. The honk of a car, the chatter of passersby, the rustle of leaves underfoot—it was all so real, so alive.

They walked together to the subway station, their laughter echoing off the concrete walls. The train pulled in with a screech, and the doors slid open. The group piled in, finding seats and resuming their conversation as if the morning's events were already forgotten. Yesung leaned back, watching the scenery pass by. The city was alive and vibrant, a stark contrast to the stillness of his earlier vision. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, though. As if the world outside the window was a painting that could shift and change at any moment.