The sky outside the classroom windows was gray and heavy, clouds pressed together as though they carried secrets. It matched the quiet tension in Chenle's chest.
The incident during P.E... his collapse, the panic attack, his friends finding out... had peeled away the mask he'd been wearing for so long. For years, he had tried to be the playful, confident Chenle everyone expected. But behind that image had been anxiety, doubts, and a constant pressure he could no longer hide.
Now, after Ara's gentle encouragement and Kun's steady presence, he found himself sitting in a cushioned chair in the quiet office of the school therapist.
His fingers tugged at the hem of his sweater as he avoided eye contact. The woman across from him smiled kindly, her voice soft but strong.
"You don't have to rush," she said. "We can talk, or we can just sit. Whatever you need today."
Chenle nodded, his throat tight. For a long moment, he didn't say anything. But this time, his silence didn't feel like failure. It felt like a beginning.
The days that followed became a new routine.
It wasn't easy.
There were mornings when Chenle woke up with his chest tight, his mind buzzing with thoughts he couldn't control. Some afternoons, the smallest mistake during practice sent him spiraling. But this time, he had tools. A plan. And more importantly... he had people who wouldn't let him fight alone.
He began journaling. At first, the pages were clumsy and awkward, just scribbles and half-written sentences. But slowly, words started to flow. Sometimes doodles filled the margins. Sometimes, he wrote lyrics that came to mind. The pages didn't have to make sense... they just had to exist.
Ara noticed and handed him a new sketchbook one afternoon. "For days you don't want to use words," she explained with a small smile. He had already filled half of it.
Kun became his anchor. Whenever Chenle needed to cry, vent, or simply sit in silence, Kun was there. No judgment. Just presence.
On clearer days, Chenle jogged around the school track in the mornings. Not for exercise, but for breath. The rhythm of his footsteps became a meditation, each inhale and exhale steadying him more than he expected.
Bit by bit, he realized he wasn't alone. His friends were learning how to support him too.
Giselle, ever the thoughtful one, researched and shared articles about breathing exercises. "I read this helps," she'd say, sliding him printouts during lunch.
Ningning, still cautious after everything, sent him a playlist one evening. "It's what I listen to when I can't sleep. Maybe it'll help you too."
Jisung shyly handed him a comic book after class. "It's dumb," he muttered, cheeks pink, "but it might make you laugh." Chenle had laughed so hard he cried.
Renjun didn't say much. But he showed up... waiting outside therapy sessions, sitting with him during lunch, walking home beside him. His quiet presence was a comfort of its own.
Jaemin surprised him with a drawing... a cartoon version of their entire friend group, exaggerated expressions and all. Chenle laughed until his stomach hurt. For the first time in weeks, it felt real.
Haechan, of course, never stopped making jokes, reminding Chenle that laughter was its own medicine.
Mark and Jeno were his calm spaces. Around them, Chenle didn't have to explain anything. Their quiet support was enough.
Together, piece by piece, they built a safety net around him.
One evening, Chenle sat on the rooftop with Kun. The sun was slipping below the horizon, the sky painted in muted shades of orange and purple. The wind carried a coolness that hinted at the coming night.
"You're doing better," Kun said softly, sipping his coffee.
Chenle hugged his knees to his chest, staring out at the skyline. "Some days still suck."
"They always will," Kun replied, his tone steady. "But you're not alone in any of them anymore."
The words sank deep, grounding him more than he could explain. For a long time, silence stretched between them... but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was safe.
Chenle tilted his head toward the stars beginning to peek through the clouds. "Thanks, Ge. For staying."
Kun smiled, clinking his can of coffee against Chenle's soda. "Always."
Healing wasn't a straight road. There were bumps, detours, and days that felt impossible. But Chenle had finally chosen to walk that road. And this time, he wasn't walking it alone.
He still had fears. He still had doubts. But for the first time in years, he also had hope.
And sometimes, hope was enough.
Chenle was no longer running from the darkness. He was moving toward the light... a light that promised change, growth, and a better version of himself.
A light he was ready to embrace.
A.N:-
- We are almost done guys.....I will miss this book.
