K-pop sickfics/hurtfics

Yeachan Lucy - Vertigo

800 words. This one has been in my draft since November 😂😑. I didn't like it enough to post it

The concert hall was alive with energy. Lucy stood on stage, the roar of the audience washing over them like a tidal wave. Every note they played sent the crowd into another frenzy of cheers. Yechan, as always, stood poised with his violin, a small smile playing on his lips as he let the bow glide smoothly across the strings. It was the kind of moment he lived for—the connection between music, the band, and the audience.

But something felt off.

As the band moved into their next song, Yechan's world began to tilt. His vision wavered slightly, the bright stage lights blurring as if they were rippling water. His heartbeat picked up, not with excitement but with a creeping sense of dread. He'd felt this before. Vertigo.

He knew the signs well—the unsteady spinning sensation, the lightheadedness, the subtle nausea curling in his stomach. It was manageable, he told himself, gripping the neck of his violin a little tighter. He couldn't stop now, not in the middle of the set. They were in perfect sync as a band, and he wouldn't be the one to break it.

The vibration of the strings beneath his fingers became his anchor. As he drew his bow across the violin, Yechan focused on the subtle hum of each note, grounding himself in the tactile feedback. He could hear Sangyeop's vocals blending with Wonsang's bassline, Gwangil's drumming keeping them all in rhythm. Yechan relied on those vibrations to steady his spinning world.

The vertigo worsened as they reached the bridge of the song. The stage seemed to sway beneath him, like a boat adrift on a restless sea. His stomach churned, but he pressed on, forcing his movements to remain fluid and natural. He couldn't let the audience or his bandmates know what was happening. The music was the only thing keeping him steady.

Through the haze, he felt Sangyeop's glance. Their singer's eyes flickered with concern but remained focused on his own performance, trusting Yechan's judgment to signal if he needed help.

Yechan adjusted his stance subtly, spreading his feet slightly for better balance. He focused harder on the vibrations, his bow gliding over the strings with careful precision. Each note was a lifeline, a thread tying him to reality. He knew he couldn't afford to falter—not now, not here.

When the song ended, the crowd erupted into applause, their cheers filling the air. Yechan took a shaky breath, the brief pause between songs allowing him a moment to steady himself. His vision was still swimming, but he could push through a little longer. The adrenaline of the performance was both his enemy and his savior.

Sangyeop leaned slightly toward him as Wonsang adjusted his bass strap. "You good?" he asked quietly, his voice barely audible over the noise of the audience.

Yechan nodded, forcing a small smile. "I'm fine," he whispered back, though his grip on the violin was tense.

The next song began, and Yechan threw himself into the music. The vertigo refused to relent, but he kept his focus razor-sharp on the vibrations. Every note he played was deliberate, every movement calculated to mask the turmoil inside. The crowd's energy fed him, giving him just enough strength to keep going.

By the time they reached the final song, Yechan was drenched in sweat, his body aching from the effort of staying upright. The lights seemed impossibly bright, the noise of the audience a distant roar. But as they played the last notes, he couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph. He'd made it through.

As the band bowed to the cheering crowd, Sangyeop placed a hand on Yechan's shoulder, steadying him subtly. Wonsang and Gwangil flanked him on either side, their presence a silent reassurance.

Backstage, as soon as the curtains closed, Yechan leaned against the nearest wall, his breathing uneven. The vertigo hit him full force now that the adrenaline was fading. Sangyeop was the first to notice, rushing to his side.

"Yechan, sit down," Sangyeop urged, his tone firm but calm.

"I'm okay," Yechan said weakly, though his trembling hands betrayed him.

Wonsang handed him a water bottle, his usual playful demeanor replaced with quiet concern. "You should've said something. We could've paused."

"I couldn't," Yechan murmured, taking a sip of water. "The audience... the music... I couldn't let it stop."

Gwangil crouched beside him, his drumming hands stilling for once. "You're part of the band, Yechan. If you need to stop, we stop. Got it?"

Yechan looked at them all, the worry etched on their faces, and nodded. He knew they were right. He also knew he'd do it all over again if it meant keeping the music alive.