Kpop Sickfics & Hurtfics

Lost Steps (Chris)

The hum of the practice room lights was a familiar, almost soothing background noise as Chris went through the choreography again, but his movements felt sluggish, out of sync with the sharp, fluid motions he had envisioned. Sweat dripped down his temple, his breathing labored, yet he refused to stop. Just one more time. He could get it perfect. He had to get it perfect.

It had been months since Chris first started feeling it—the gnawing sense that he wasn't quite keeping up. No matter how hard he practiced, he couldn't shake the idea that he was falling behind. As the rapper, he knew his primary role was to deliver verses, to add energy and flair, but he wanted more than that. He wanted to stand on equal footing with the others in dance as well. After all, they were all dancers, and he didn't want to be the one dragging the team down.

His legs wobbled as he tried to hold the ending pose, but his body protested, trembling under the pressure. Suddenly, he stumbled, nearly falling as his ankle twisted awkwardly.

"Chris! Are you okay?" Juhan rushed over, eyes wide with concern as Chris clutched his ankle, wincing. The other members crowded around him, their faces etched with worry.

"I'm fine," Chris mumbled, embarrassed. He forced a weak smile. "I just... lost my balance."

"Maybe take a break?" Sya urged gently, his tone laced with concern. "You've been at it for hours, and we don't have to get everything perfect in one day."

Chris forced a laugh. "I'm good, really." He brushed off their concern and attempted to stand, only to feel the sting of his strained ankle again. He bit back a grimace, avoiding their gaze. "I'll just go again in a minute."

The members exchanged uneasy glances. They'd noticed his intensity recently, the way he would stay behind after practices, silently pouring hours into rehearsing steps long after they had gone home. He brushed off their invitations to hang out, giving vague excuses about needing to improve. And, though they tried to reassure him, he shrugged off their words as if they were meaningless.

Later that night, as he sat alone in the practice room with an ice pack pressed to his swollen ankle, Chris felt a hollow ache settle in his chest. It was the same feeling that haunted him whenever he watched videos of their performances. He'd focus on his own movements, comparing them to the others, noticing every tiny mistake he made. The way Juhan moved with effortless grace, or how Wooju could pull off complicated footwork without breaking a sweat. And then there was him, lagging behind, stumbling in ways no one else seemed to.

He couldn't understand why he felt so stuck. He practiced as hard as anyone—maybe harder—yet it never seemed to be enough.

The next morning, the exhaustion was visible on Chris's face. He walked into the practice room with dark circles under his eyes and a tightness in his jaw that made his usual smile seem strained. He tried to shake it off, plastering on a grin as he greeted everyone, but they could see through it.

"Chris-hyung, are you sure you're okay?" Lutan asked, his brows furrowing. "You look really tired."

"Did you sleep at all?" Wooju chimed in, concern coloring his usually cheerful voice. "You know, pushing yourself too hard isn't going to help you get better. You need rest too."

Chris shrugged, trying to laugh it off. "I'm fine, really. Just... been thinking a lot."

He didn't want to burden them with his insecurities. They all worked hard and faced their own struggles. Why should he make his problem theirs?

As they began practice, the choreographer noticed Chris's lack of energy. After a few run-throughs, he called Chris over.

"Chris, you seem off today. Are you feeling okay?" he asked, his tone compassionate but firm.

Chris nodded quickly. "I'm just warming up. I'll get it."

But as the practice continued, Chris's frustration grew. He couldn't keep up with the intricate footwork, and his muscles felt like they were on fire. Each time he fell out of sync, he could feel the eyes of his members on him, as if they were silently judging his every mistake.

In truth, they weren't judging him at all. They were worried, especially as his frustration became more obvious. After yet another fumbled step, Chris let out an exasperated sigh, kicking the floor in anger. The room fell silent, his outburst catching everyone off guard.

Sya stepped forward, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Chris, it's okay. We all mess up sometimes. Let's take a break, and—"

"Easy for you to say," Chris snapped, his voice sharper than he intended. "You're all good at this. I'm just... I'm just slowing everyone down."

The words hung heavy in the air. The others looked at him, surprised, but Chris couldn't bring himself to meet their eyes. He grabbed his water bottle and stormed out of the room, his heart pounding.

He found a quiet corner in the building and sank to the floor, feeling ashamed. He didn't mean to lash out, but the weight of his frustration and self-doubt was crushing. He'd tried so hard to keep up, but it only seemed to make things worse.

After a few minutes, he heard footsteps approaching. He looked up to see the rest of his members standing there, worry evident on their faces. Juhan stepped forward first, his expression soft.

"Chris... why didn't you tell us you felt this way?" he asked gently. "We're a team. You don't have to go through this alone."

Chris sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just... I don't want to be the weak link, you know? I want to be as good as you guys. But no matter how hard I try, it's like I'm always one step behind."

Wooju knelt beside him, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Chris, none of us think you're a weak link. We all have our strengths, and we all have things we struggle with. You bring something unique to this group."

"And we wouldn't be BLITZERS without you," Lutan added, his voice filled with warmth. "We're here for each other, remember?"

Chris's throat tightened as he looked at his members. Despite everything, they were here, standing by him, ready to lift him up. It was something he'd taken for granted in his determination to push through his insecurities alone.

"You don't have to do everything by yourself," Juhan continued. "Let us help you. Let's set some goals together, and work through this at your pace."

After a long pause, Chris nodded, feeling a small spark of relief settle in his chest. "Okay... I think I'd like that."

From that day forward, practice sessions changed. Rather than focusing solely on perfecting their routines, the members made a point to include exercises that emphasized each member's strengths. They spent time helping Chris with the steps he struggled with, encouraging him to take things slow and learn at his own pace.

One day, as they were going over some of the more difficult choreography, Wooju called for a break. He turned to Chris, grinning.

"Alright, show us some of that rap you've been working on," he said, nudging Chris playfully. "We could use a little music break."

Chris hesitated, but the others quickly joined in, egging him on. Feeling a surge of confidence, he took a deep breath and launched into his rap, the words flowing effortlessly. By the time he finished, the members were cheering, clapping, and shouting encouragement.

"See?" Sya said, beaming. "You're amazing at what you do, Chris. We're all learning together, and you're an important part of this team."

Chris felt a warmth spread through him, realizing he didn't have to prove himself alone. His members had his back, and they valued him not just for his skills but for who he was.

As the weeks passed, Chris noticed a shift in himself. Though he still struggled with some of the choreography, he no longer saw it as a failure. Instead, he saw it as a challenge to overcome, with his members by his side, supporting him every step of the way. And gradually, his confidence grew.

On the day of their next performance, Chris stood backstage, his heart pounding with excitement instead of fear. He glanced at his members, who smiled back at him, their trust and camaraderie giving him strength.

He took a deep breath, letting go of his doubts, and stepped onto the stage, ready to give it his all—not as a perfect dancer, but as himself.