SEVENTEEN | SICKFICS - HURTFICS

Woozi | Nightmares Part II

The drive back to the dorm was quick, and once they arrived, Seungcheol and Hoshi practically guided Woozi to his room. He didn't resist. He was beyond resisting. He just wanted to sleep, to find some rest, even if it was temporary.

He slipped into his bed, the familiar comfort of the blankets feeling like a small refuge. The room was dark and quiet, and he pulled the covers up to his chin, hoping that maybe this time, he could sleep without the fear of his nightmare creeping back.

But as soon as he closed his eyes, the darkness seemed to swallow him whole. His breathing slowed, and soon enough, he was lost to the world of sleep.

Yet the moment he drifted too deep, the nightmare returned.

This time, the concert hall was darker, the shadows more oppressive. Woozi stood at the center, feeling smaller than before. The stage was no longer empty-it was filled with towering shadows that loomed over him, whispering in voices that sounded like echoes of his own thoughts.

"Not good enough."

"You're falling behind."

"You can't do this anymore."

He tried to move, to step away from the voices, but his feet were rooted to the ground, his body frozen in place. The lights above flickered and buzzed, casting erratic shadows that twisted and morphed, distorting the room further. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat like a heavy drum, but no matter how hard he tried to escape, the shadows closed in around him.

His hands were shaking, his breath coming in short gasps. "Please..." he whispered, but no sound left his mouth.

Then came the cold, biting sensation of loneliness, like a heavy weight pressing on his chest, suffocating him. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't. He wanted to reach out, to feel someone else's presence, but there was nothing.

And that was when the voices grew louder.

"You're alone. You're always alone."

Woozi jolted awake, his breath erratic and his heart racing. His body was drenched in sweat, the covers tangled around him as if he had been thrashing in his sleep. His eyes darted around the room, his chest heaving as he tried to calm himself.

The nightmare had returned, relentless and unyielding.

He sat up, rubbing his face with his hands, his mind racing. Not again. He had thought-no, hoped-that this time would be different. But it wasn't.

His gaze shifted to the dark window, the silence of the dorm around him only adding to the heaviness in his chest. Woozi felt utterly alone, even though his members were just down the hall. The feeling of isolation that the nightmare left behind was consuming, and it was the same feeling he tried to outrun every day, only to find it waiting for him when he closed his eyes.

He didn't know how long he sat there in the dark, his mind spinning, his body trembling with the aftershocks of the nightmare. The quiet only amplified the unease he felt, and for a long time, he couldn't bring himself to lie back down. The thought of slipping back into that dark, empty hall was too much to bear.

He stared at the clock. 3:22AM.

For the second time that night, he felt utterly defeated.

The days blurred together in a haze of restless nights and endless hours spent in his studio. Woozi's routine had become predictable, almost mechanical. Wake up late in the afternoon, grab a quick meal, and dive straight into his work. He lost track of time, consumed by his music, hoping that the creative process would shield him from his nightmares.