Girl group oneshots

Emergency Contact (Chanelle Moon)

The hospital was cold, sterile, and unnervingly quiet. You sat in the waiting room, hands gripping the armrests of your chair, trying to make sense of the phone call that had shattered your evening.

"Mr. Y/N?" The nurse's voice had been calm but urgent. "You're listed as the emergency contact for Miss Chanelle Moon. There's been an accident. Please come to St. Mary's Hospital immediately."

You didn't ask how or why. You simply ran.

You hadn't heard her name in months. You thought you'd never hear it again, not after the breakup, not after the words that tore through your chest like shrapnel. Yet, here you were, sitting under the unforgiving fluorescent lights of the hospital waiting room, her name the only thing echoing in your mind.

You tried to steady your trembling hands, gripping your phone tightly, but it was no use. She wasn't supposed to be your problem anymore. She wasn't supposed to still be in your heart.

When they let you into the room, the sight of her nearly buckled your knees. Chanelle lay on the hospital bed, unnervingly still, her face pale and fragile against the stark white sheets. A cast encased her arm, a bandage stretched across her temple, and dark bruises shadowed her skin.

You stood frozen at the doorway until her eyelids fluttered open. For a moment, she seemed disoriented, her gaze darting around the room before landing on you.

"Y/N?" she murmured, her voice barely audible.

You stepped closer, unsure if it was guilt, love, or some twisted combination of both pulling you forward. 

"I'm here," you said, the words catching in your throat.

A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at her lips. 

"I didn't think you'd come."

Your chest tightened painfully. 

"Why am I still your emergency contact?"

Her eyes softened, but she didn't answer right away. Instead, she let out a weak chuckle. 

"Guess I forgot to change it. Or maybe I just couldn't bring myself to."

The hours bled together as you sat by her bedside, the steady beep of the monitor filling the silence. She drifted in and out of sleep, and each time she woke, she looked for you as if to make sure you were still there.

"I shouldn't have called you," she whispered during one of her lucid moments, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. 

"But I didn't know who else to call."

"You should've called someone who could make you happy," you replied, the bitterness slipping through despite your best efforts.

"I did once," she said, her voice breaking. Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, the weight of all the things you'd left unsaid threatened to crush you both.

The night deepened, and so did the memories. You couldn't stop them, couldn't push away the images of what you'd been—her laughter, your shared dreams, the way her hand fit perfectly in yours. And then the sharp edges of what came after—the fights, the silences, the slow unravelling of everything you thought was unbreakable.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she said softly, her voice pulling you back to the present.

"You did," you replied, the words heavier than you intended. 

Her lips trembled as she nodded. "I thought... I thought if I pushed you away, I wouldn't miss you so much when you left."

"I never wanted to leave," you said, your voice cracking. 

"You made me feel like I had to."

Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn't try to wipe them away. 

"And now you're here, and I'm still the one who broke us."

As the first light of dawn crept through the window, you knew you couldn't stay much longer. She needed to heal, and so did you, but not together. Not anymore.

"You should go," she said, her voice steady now, though her eyes betrayed her. 

"This isn't fair to you."

"Chanelle—"

"Please, Y/N," she interrupted, her tears spilling freely now. 

"You were my emergency contact because I didn't want to let you go. But I can't keep doing this to you."

The silence was suffocating as you stood, her hand slipping from yours like sand through your fingers.

"I'll go," you said finally, your voice hollow. 

"But if you ever need me again..."

She smiled through her tears, a bittersweet curve of her lips that broke your heart all over again. 

Chanelle whispered under her breath,

"I'll always need you. That's the problem."

As you walked away, the snow began to fall outside, quiet and unrelenting, a blanket of white that covered everything—except the ache in your chest.

And though you knew leaving was the right thing to do, it didn't stop you from wishing you could stay.