Kpop Sickfics and Hurtfics Part 2

Breathe, Leader-nim (Sangyeon)

Carateume47

The lights dimmed, and the arena erupted into deafening cheers. Thousands of fans, their voices melding into one powerful chant, screamed “The Boyz! The Boyz!” The glow of light sticks illuminated the crowd like a sea of stars, casting an ethereal glow over the vast space.

Sangyeon stood at center stage, his usual calmness replaced by a strange, unrelenting pressure blooming in his chest. His heart pounded—not with the usual excitement that came with performing, but with something heavier, something unfamiliar. He drew in a breath, but it felt shallow, not nearly enough to settle the unease growing inside him.

They had performed countless times before, in venues bigger and smaller, in front of fans just as passionate. But tonight felt different. Heavier.

It wasn’t supposed to be this stressful. Concerts were always intense—the adrenaline, the energy exchange between them and the fans—but there was a rhythm to it, a flow they’d mastered over the years. But today, the rhythm had been broken.

New had woken up that morning barely able to speak, his voice reduced to a hoarse whisper. What they’d all dismissed as a minor cold had escalated quickly, and after a rushed visit to the doctor, it became clear that New’s vocal cords were at risk. The doctor’s words echoed in Sangyeon’s mind: “If he doesn’t rest, it could cause permanent damage.”

That meant emergency changes—rearranging vocal lines, adjusting harmonies, shifting the dynamics they’d rehearsed for weeks. And as the leader, Sangyeon had taken on most of that burden alongside Jacob. There was no hesitation in stepping up—there never was—but the weight of responsibility sat heavy on his shoulders.

They made it work. They always did.

But as the opening notes of their first song echoed through the stadium and Sangyeon’s voice rang out, seamlessly covering New’s lines, he felt the strain settling deeper into his bones. His chest tightened with each breath, but he ignored it, pushing the discomfort aside. The fans didn’t know. They couldn’t see the frantic adjustments made backstage or the worry etched into each member’s face. That was the beauty of being a professional.

As they transitioned into the second song, the tightness in Sangyeon’s chest grew more pronounced. It wasn’t the usual breathlessness from intense choreography; this was different. The air felt thinner, like trying to breathe through a straw. He convinced himself it was just the cold air from the stage effects or maybe nerves from the sudden setlist changes. But deep down, something felt off.

Between verses, he glanced at his members. Hyunjae was flashing his signature smile, radiating energy as he interacted with the crowd. Sunwoo’s rap cut through the noise, his confidence unwavering. None of them noticed Sangyeon’s growing discomfort. And that was fine.

They still had half the setlist to go, and he wasn’t about to be the reason their performance faltered.

But by the third song, the pressure in his chest had morphed into something more sinister. Each time they finished a song, he found himself clutching his stomach, trying to coax air into his stubborn lungs. His hands were clammy, and sweat dripped down his temples—not from exertion, but from the slow, creeping panic simmering beneath the surface.

As they shifted formations, Eric brushed past him, his voice barely audible over the pounding bass. “Hyung, you okay?”

Sangyeon forced a tight smile, his voice strained. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Eric’s eyes lingered on him for a second longer, worry flickering across his face, but the show went on.

It always did.