Kpop Sickfics and Hurtfics Part 2

Behind the Mask (Taeyoung)

Carateume47

Taeyoung's world had become a blur of sleepless nights and relentless rehearsals. The Ace Mission on Kingdom had demanded every ounce of his focus, but with the upcoming Love or Die performance looming, he felt the weight pressing harder each day. Choreography counts, vocal adjustments, last-minute tweaks—they whirled in his mind like a storm he couldn't escape. Each night, he told himself he'd rest soon, but the hours stretched on, leaving him in a cycle of exhaustion he couldn't break.

He thought he was hiding it well, putting on a bright smile whenever his bandmates looked his way. But his body wasn't as resilient as his spirit, and he felt himself growing weaker with each passing day. He'd catch Minhee or Seongmin glancing at him, brows knit with concern, but he brushed them off every time.

"Are you sure you're okay, Taeyoungie?" Jungmo asked him once during a water break, watching him a little too closely.

"Yeah, yeah. Just tired, but I'm fine," Taeyoung replied, hoping his voice sounded more confident than he felt. He couldn't let them worry about him. Not now, with the stakes so high. He wanted to be strong, to prove he could push through anything. Little did he realize that he was inching closer to a breaking point he wouldn't be able to hide.

The day of the Love or Die performance arrived, and Taeyoung could barely stand the buzzing in his mind. Every muscle felt heavy and strained, as though he were moving through water. Even his vision seemed unfocused, a dull ache behind his temples that he couldn't shake.

Before they took the stage, he took a moment to steady himself, gripping the side of a speaker for balance. The others were talking, hyping each other up, and he wanted to join in, but his voice felt like it had lost its strength. He took a breath and smiled, telling himself he just had to get through one more performance. That was all.

The lights dimmed, the music swelled, and Taeyoung pushed his body into motion, relying on muscle memory to carry him through. As they performed, he felt like a puppet on strings, his mind a step behind his body. The fans' cheers filled his ears, and he tried to focus on them, but it was as if he were watching everything from the other side of a glass. He barely registered Minhee's glance across the stage or the worried crease in his brow.

The performance ended with thunderous applause, and Taeyoung took his final position at the top of the staircase, opposite Minhee. He forced himself to stand tall, but the lights seemed brighter, harsher. He blinked, feeling his vision blur. When he looked at Minhee, the world swam, and he felt tears prickling at the edges of his eyes.

Minhee tilted his head slightly, catching Taeyoung's gaze and mouthing, "Are you okay?" But Taeyoung could only shake his head weakly as his strength gave way. He felt his body slump forward, and he heard a muffled gasp as Minhee rushed to catch him, shielding him from the cameras. The world spun, and then everything went black.

For a second, it looked as though Taeyoung's slump was part of the performance—a dramatic ending, perhaps. The fans and contestants kept clapping, unaware, but as Taeyoung lay in Minhee's arms, motionless, reality began to sink in.

Minhee adjusted himself, trying to shield Taeyoung's face as the director called "Cut!" But he could feel Taeyoung's body, too cold and limp in his arms, and panic surged through him. He shouted, his voice cracking, "Get the medic! Taeyoung isn't responding!"

His cry shattered the illusion, and the other Cravity members immediately rushed to his side. Allen, Seongmin, and Jungmo knelt beside him, and Allen reached out, brushing his fingers against Taeyoung's forehead, feeling the unnaturally cold skin. He pulled his hand back, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's freezing."

Minhee tried to wake him, his own hands trembling as he held Taeyoung's face gently, murmuring, "Come on, Youngie... open your eyes. Please." His voice was thick with guilt and worry, replaying every look, every word he'd ignored, telling himself that Taeyoung was just fine.

The rest of the members gathered around, exchanging helpless glances as they waited for the medical team. They could hear the murmur of concerned voices around them, other groups and staff realizing that something had gone terribly wrong.

The medical team arrived, and they quickly assessed Taeyoung's condition, explaining to the members that he had fainted from exhaustion. He was suffering from symptoms similar to hypothermia—his body so drained that it was struggling to regulate its own temperature. They carefully placed him on a stretcher, wrapping him in blankets to counter the chill.

As the medics prepared to move Taeyoung, the Cravity members surrounded him, faces pale with shock and guilt. They each felt a knot of regret settle in their chests, a reminder of all the times they'd brushed off his fatigue as something trivial. Minhee kept a tight grip on Taeyoung's hand, whispering apologies under his breath.

"I should have noticed," he said softly, a tear slipping down his cheek. "I kept telling myself it was nothing, but I knew..."

Jungmo placed a comforting hand on Minhee's shoulder. "It's not your fault, Minhee. None of us noticed, either... but he'll be okay. He's strong." His own voice wavered as he tried to stay calm for everyone else.

They followed the stretcher to the ambulance, each member silently vowing not to leave Taeyoung's side until he was safe.

In the quiet waiting room of the hospital, the gravity of the situation settled over them like a shadow. Minhee sat with his head in his hands, replaying the moment Taeyoung had collapsed over and over. He couldn't shake the memory of Taeyoung's pale face, his glazed, exhausted eyes meeting his own just before he slumped forward.

"I should have seen it," he muttered. "He was right there, and I... I just..."

Seongmin put a hand on Minhee's shoulder, his voice gentle. "He'll be okay, Minhee-hyung. We'll all make sure of it from now on."

Allen was pacing the room, his fists clenched as he thought about all the times he'd seen Taeyoung struggling, only to brush it off as something minor. The guilt gnawed at him, a constant reminder that they were supposed to look out for each other.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a nurse emerged, and they all straightened, hearts pounding with hope and fear. "He's stable," she said. "He's awake now, but he needs rest."

Relief flooded through them, and they practically ran to Taeyoung's room, eager to see him.

Taeyoung lay in a hospital bed, looking even smaller and frailer than usual, but his eyes were open, and he managed a faint smile when he saw his bandmates.

Minhee was the first to reach him, grabbing his hand tightly. "Taeyoung, you scared us half to death," he said, his voice cracking as he tried to keep his emotions in check. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Taeyoung's eyes flickered with guilt and exhaustion. "I... didn't want to worry you guys. I thought... I could handle it."

Seongmin, standing beside Minhee, leaned forward, his face full of quiet reprimand and care. "You're our brother, Taeyoung-hyung. We're supposed to worry about each other. You don't have to hide when things are hard." Each of the members murmured similar reassurances, their words filling the room like a protective blanket around Taeyoung.

Jungmo ruffled Taeyoung's hair gently. "Next time, don't keep it to yourself, alright? We're in this together."

Taeyoung managed a faint laugh, tears welling up in his eyes. "Thank you, everyone. I'm sorry I made you worry."

They stayed with him for hours, sharing stories, joking around, and talking about the things that had been left unsaid. They promised to keep an eye on one another and to be honest about their struggles, knowing that their strength came from the bond they shared.

As Taeyoung drifted back to sleep, his face relaxed and peaceful, the members took turns staying by his side, a silent vow to never let him feel alone again. They knew now that no performance, no competition was worth more than their health and happiness. Their resolve was stronger than ever, bound by the experience they'd just shared—a reminder of the unwavering support they'd always have in each other.