K-pop sickfics/hurtfics

Jisung nct - isolation

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1500 words

The rehearsal room was filled with tension. After a recent performance mishap that resulted in an awkward pause on stage, all eyes were on Jisung. The mistake wasn't his fault — technical difficulties had caused the issue — but somehow, blame fell on him. Taeyong, overwhelmed with the pressure of leading such a large group, didn't investigate further. In his frustration, he distanced himself from Jisung, and the rest of the members followed suit.

Jisung tried to explain. "Hyungs, I didn't... "

"Let's just move on," Taeyong interrupted, not wanting to hear excuses. His voice was cold, unlike the usual warm and understanding leader. "We don't have time for this."

Jisung's heart sank. From that moment, the atmosphere around him shifted. He became an outcast among his own family.

Days passed, and Jisung found himself increasingly alone. In the dorms, the Dream members — his closest friends — avoided him. They left the room whenever he entered, spending more time in other dorms. Mealtime was the worst; Jisung would sit at the far end of the table, his attempts to join conversations met with silence or dismissive glances.

In the practice room, he was given space, but not in a kind way. The members didn't offer corrections or encouragement, leaving Jisung to struggle on his own. He felt like a ghost, present but unseen.

Each night, he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what he had done to deserve this. "Was it really my fault?" he whispered into the empty room. The silence answered him, a confirmation of his worst fears.

Jisung's thoughts spiraled into a dark place. He replayed the performance over and over, trying to pinpoint what he could have done differently. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it truly wasn't his fault. The knowledge didn't help. The members believed it was, and that was enough to crush him.

He felt unwanted, unloved, and invisible. The isolation gnawed at his mental health, turning the once cheerful and lively Jisung into a shadow of himself. His laughter, once frequent and infectious, faded into nothingness. He stopped smiling, stopped talking unless necessary.

The sleepless nights piled up, each one stealing more of his strength. His self-worth plummeted, buried under the weight of rejection.

Jisung's emotional pain began manifesting physically. He started skipping meals, finding no appetite in the face of his anxiety. He stopped working out, lacking the energy to care for himself. The few bites of food he forced down were enough to keep him barely functional, but not enough to sustain him.

His body grew weaker with each passing day. His skin became pale, his eyes sunken with dark circles from the lack of sleep. During practices, he felt lightheaded, his limbs heavy and unresponsive. He knew he was deteriorating, but he couldn't bring himself to reach out. Why would they care now when they hadn't before?

The inevitable happened during an intense rehearsal. They had been practicing for hours, and Jisung's body had reached its limit. His vision blurred, dark spots dancing before his eyes. His heart pounded erratically, and a cold sweat broke out on his skin.

As they moved into the next routine, Jisung took a step forward but felt his legs buckle beneath him. His world tilted, and then everything went black.

The loud thud of Jisung's body hitting the floor snapped everyone's attention to him. For a moment, they all froze, the realization hitting them like a freight train. The youngest, their Jisung, lay motionless on the floor.

"Jisung!" Mark's voice broke the silence, rushing forward with the others close behind.

Mark knelt beside Jisung, pressing his fingers to the boy's neck to check for a pulse. It was there, but faint and weak. "He's breathing, but barely," Winwin said, his voice shaking.