Her Song, His Heart

Fragile Hearts

The days following Mannon's breakdown were filled with heavy silence. Chan remained glued to her side, as he always did in times like this, but the others... they were trying to make sense of what they had witnessed. Hyunjin found himself replaying that moment in his head over and over, the sound of Mannon’s frantic screams echoing in his mind. Her pain had left a mark on all of them.

The guys tried to carry on with their routines, but it wasn’t the same. The weight of what had happened hung over everything, like a dark cloud that refused to dissipate. Mannon was quieter now, her once bright and bubbly demeanor replaced with an unspoken sadness. She still smiled, still joked, but the spark that had always lit her up seemed dimmer.

Hyunjin couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Something bigger than they all realized. He would catch himself staring at her when she wasn’t looking, wondering what more he could do to help, but feeling helpless all the same.

---

One evening, a few days after the incident, Mannon slipped out of the apartment for a walk. She needed space. The weight of everything—the guys, her illness, her life—was becoming too much to bear in the four walls of the apartment.

Chan had tried to stop her, but she insisted she was fine, that she just needed air. He had reluctantly agreed, but his concern never left his face.

Mannon walked the quiet streets, the cool night air doing little to calm the storm in her mind. She had kept her distance from the others, trying to keep her internal chaos contained. But everything felt like it was unraveling, and the more she tried to hold it together, the more fragile she became.

---

“Where’s Mannon?” Hyunjin asked when he noticed she wasn’t in her room. The guys had just finished rehearsing, and the apartment was quiet.

“She went for a walk,” Chan replied, his voice tight with worry. “She said she needed some space.”

Hyunjin’s brows furrowed. He hadn’t missed the way Mannon’s mood had shifted since the breakdown. She had retreated even further into herself, becoming more and more distant with each passing day.

“I don’t like this,” Hyunjin muttered, standing up. “She shouldn’t be out there alone.”

“She’s fine, Hyunjin,” Chan said, though there was a trace of doubt in his voice. “But I’ll go check on her in a bit.”

But Hyunjin wasn’t convinced. His gut told him something was wrong. Without waiting for Chan to act, he grabbed his jacket and slipped out the door.

---

The cool breeze kissed Hyunjin’s face as he walked through the quiet streets, his eyes scanning for any sign of Mannon. He could feel the tension building in his chest. Something about tonight felt off.

As he passed a familiar park, he spotted her sitting alone on a bench. Her posture was slumped, her face pale under the glow of the streetlights. Her hands were clasped tightly together, her fingers white from the grip.

“Mannon?” Hyunjin called softly, approaching her cautiously.

She looked up at the sound of his voice, and for a moment, their eyes met. There was a depth to her gaze that made his heart tighten. It was like she was searching for something—something she couldn’t quite grasp.

“Hyunjin…” Her voice was small, almost as if she hadn’t expected him to find her. She wiped a tear from her cheek before giving him a shaky smile. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you,” he said, his voice softer than usual. He sat down beside her, careful to respect her space. “You’ve been… different. Are you okay?”

Mannon took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly. “I don’t know, Hyunjin. I don’t feel okay.”

He felt his chest tighten at her words. There was no hiding it anymore. He could see it in her eyes, the fear, the uncertainty. She was slipping away, and no one knew how to catch her.

“Mannon,” he said gently, “you don’t have to go through this alone. We’re here for you, okay? Chan’s here for you. The guys are here for you.”

She shook her head slowly. “It’s not that simple.”

Hyunjin was quiet for a moment, letting her words sink in. He didn’t know how to fix what was broken inside of her, but he couldn’t just sit back and let her struggle. Not when she needed someone to lean on.

“Then let me help,” he said finally, his voice full of sincerity. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Mannon met his gaze again, her eyes filled with unshed tears. She hesitated for a moment before she finally spoke.

“Hyunjin,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why this keeps happening.”

Hyunjin’s heart ached as he reached for her hand, gently holding it in his. “Mannon, you don’t have to explain it to me. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. But you don’t have to do it alone. We’ll face it together, okay?”

For a long moment, there was silence. Hyunjin could feel the weight of her unspoken pain, but for the first time in days, he saw a flicker of something in her eyes—something resembling hope.

“I don’t want to be a burden to anyone,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“You’re not a burden,” he said firmly. “You never will be. You mean too much to all of us.”

Mannon let out a shaky breath, her head resting against his shoulder. She didn’t say anything more, but Hyunjin could feel the weight lifting ever so slightly. She wasn’t alone anymore.

---

As they sat there on the bench, the sound of the night around them seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, connected by an unspoken understanding. Hyunjin wasn’t sure what would happen next, but he was sure of one thing: he wasn’t going to let Mannon face her demons alone. Not now, not ever.

And for the first time in a long while, Mannon felt a little less broken.