Persona

May 25, 2045

May 25, 2045

Their debut was in two weeks, and to say that Sung-Ji was nervous was an understatement. Sung-Ji had the belief that he was lesser than the rest of the members. Aeseok had her dance skills, Mijin had her visuals, Aejeo was the maknae, which granted him a pass to be everyone's favourite. Namja was the leader with exceptional rapping skills, Seogi was a producer with a lot of experience under his belt, and Minyoung had rapping and vocals. His dance skills had been dubbed “lead” worthy, so he was forced to be part of the danceline, even if he thought his skills were sub-par.

Sung-Ji was determined to suffer in silence, he couldn’t let the others know he was so upset.

How selfish of me.

Their debut song had been chosen a few days prior, and Aeseok’s father, the new choreographer, had very quickly delivered the routine. They were on their way to the practice building, all stuffed into a company van, when Sung-Ji heard someone cough. He lifted his head from his phone to peer at the other members, and he realized after a moment that he wasn’t the only one looking.

There it was again, after a couple more seconds, then someone was clearing their throat, and Seogi had a hand on Aejeo’s shoulder. The maknae was coughing harshly now, Seogi’s face showing only concern for the younger.

“What’s going on back there?” The manager asked, looking through the rear-view mirror to see the members.

Aejeo cleared his throat again, coughing one last time before he looked up, eyes watering, to speak. “I’m fine,” he muttered, voice rough. “Really, it’s probably just a stupid cold.”

“Take it easy at practice, Aejeo,” Minyoung told him. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

~

Aejeo followed the steps effortlessly, along with Aeseok. The latter’s father smiled proudly as Aeseok got the choreo down in less than an hour. They were there for nearly three hours, before Aejeo and Minyoung were panting on the ground, and the others decided to call it a day.

It was on the way home that things took a turn for the worst. Aejeo was out cold before he even got into the seat, and not long after they’d started their trek home, afternoon traffic held them up for another forty minutes. By the time they started moving again, a massive storm had rolled over them. In little time the roads cleared, and the manager was able to fly down the streets. They were pushing five over the speed limit when a large semi slammed into the side of their van. And just like that, just within one single moment, his world came crashing down all around him.

Aejeo had been awake throughout the whole thing. He’d heard a strangled, short-lived cry from one of his fellow members, and saw as someone flew up past him, their foot colliding with another member’s head. Aejeo flinched as something dripped onto his forearm, raising said limb to where the dripping was coming from. He pressed three or four fingers to his temple, and when he pulled his hand away, it was stained crimson.

Blood.

Swallowing, a metallic taste overwhelmed his tongue, and he gagged harshly. Blood came from there, too.

Jenjang, where’s Hyung..

Aejeo sat forward in his seat, inhaling sharply when something held him in place. He could feel bruising along his chest, and the bottom of his stomach.

“Seo-” Aejeo coughed a few times before clearing his throat. “Seogi-Hyung..” Aejeo strained his neck as he scanned the interior off the car. To his left, an empty seat, probably where one of his Hyungs or Noonas had come from.

Looking behind him, he really wished he hadn’t. He immediately turned around, and vomited onto the floor beneath his feet. He retched, and heaved for a few moments, before he decided to distract himself. Counting, he could do that.

Counting.. What am I, five?

He scolded himself, but got to it anyway.

It’s better than looking back there again.

Aejeo unbuckled his seatbelt, and held onto the head-rest in front of him to keep himself steady. Resting his hand on the seat he was currently sitting on, he swallowed the blood slowly pooling into his mouth.

One, two.

The manager, and Namja were knocked out, but thankfully still in the car. Breathing heavily, he braced himself, shifting in his seat to look behind him. He saw the blood again, and his stomach began doing the same barrel-rolls which had provoked vomit the first time. Aejeo swallowed again, and again, before his stomach finally settled enough for him to glance back.

Three, four, five..

Aeseok, Minyoung, Mijin.. Wait-

Against his better judgement, Aejeo whipped his head around, only to notice that the front windshield was smashed, and two members were missing.

Seogi-Hyung, and Sung-Ji-Hyung.. No..

But it had to be true, they were the only ones not in the van. Aejeo fumbled for the door handle, and when he wrenched it open-

“Aejeo-ah.” Sung-Ji.

“Hey, we’re at the dorms, get up.” Seogi.

~

Namja got out of the shower only ten minutes after he’d gotten in. He was dressed, and dried in five, and eating dinner with his members- minus Aejeo. Something had really spooked the sick, younger boy, because he nearly screamed when Sung-Ji had put a hand on his shoulder to wake him.

Namja noticed that Sung-Ji was eating slower than he usually did, and was moving a bit more sluggish than normal. He decided he’d speak to the younger later, when the rest of the dorm was asleep. They were still on the fence about room-mates, as some members slept with whoever, and wherever, they wanted. The pairings were supposed to be: Aeseok, and Mijin, Minyoung, and Sung-Ji, himself, and Seogi, and Aejeo got a room to himself. They never really stuck to that, though.

Minyoung was often found in Aejeo’s room, and Aeseok was usually on the couch. Namja sighed to himself when he saw that his Noona was, actually, on the couch tonight. He sat down on the love-seat, crossing his legs on the coffee table, something he knew Mijin would kill him for, and whipped out his cellphone.

They had an upcoming meeting in America that they were being forced to attend, and Namja was basically squeezing information out of their managers about it. Honestly, it was information that no-one seemed to have. They had their stage-names, and Namja decided he’d dish them out on the plane tomorrow. Sighing again, he stretched out on the love-seat, and fell asleep quickly.