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Fear.
Fear was something that had ruled over Seungcheol’s life since 2015.
Fear of not being a good enough leader, fear of disbandment, fear of not being able to protect the boys.
All of it boiled down to the point where he runs on two hours of sleep, coffee and anxiety. Still he should’ve seen the signs. He should have been able to stop it. He should have done something sooner. But he didn’t.
“Hyung?” Seokmin hesitated in the doorway, quietly tapping his fingers against the door frame.
Seungcheol lifted his head from where he was laying on the couch, “Hmm?” After a minute with no response he sat up, clicking his phone off and turning in the direction he heard Seokmin’s voice.
He was still standing there, his eyes were round with what looked like fear and Seungcheol wasted no time in opening his arms. Seokmin didn’t hesitate, crashing into Seungcheol and knocking him back against the couch.
“What’s wrong?” Seokmin shook his head, pressing his cheek into Seungcheol’s chest, “Do you need Jihoon? Or Shua?”
Jihoon and Jisoo were usually the ones Seokmin was known to go to if he was having a hard time so Seungcheol would be lying if he said this didn’t set off some alarm bells in his head. Seokmin, though, shook his head again, tightening his arms around Seungcheol like he was afraid he would leave.
“Okay,” He pressed a kiss to the top of his head, gently running a hand up and down his spine in an attempt to bring some comfort. It didn’t take long for Seokmin’s breathing to even out and Seungcheol felt the last bits of tension ease out of his body as Seokmin fell asleep.
“Is he okay?”
Seungcheol nearly jumped. Minghao leaned against the arm of the couch, eyeing Seokmin before glancing back at Seungcheol for an answer.
“I don’t know.”
Minghao nodded, accepting the answer and reached over Seungcheol to run a hand through Seokmin’s hair. “I’ll talk to Gyu, he can sleep with us tonight.”
When Seungcheol tilted his head back to look at him, Minghao's face was filled with anxiety, so he grabbed his hand, pressing a gentle kiss against it, like a promise. “He’s okay, Xīngān .”
Minghao looked a little doubtful but squeezed his hand and headed towards the kitchen. A few other members passed by, some dropping a kiss on his head, others distractedly patting around his face while on their phones. Seungcheol watched them, the way they all seemed to move, setting the table with ease that almost reminded him of the synchronization they had on stage. How well and easily they all fit together, laughing and talking made the little ball of anxiety in his chest ease a bit.
When Mingyu called for dinner Seungcheol gently shook Seokmin awake, patting his hair into place and dragging him to the table. He dropped Seokmin off next to Mingyu, who seemed more than happy to receive him and took his place next to Jeonghan and Jihoon. The conversation washed over him, barely registering unless Jeonghan directly called his name to ask for his opinion on something. Other than that he stole glances at Seokmin who just pushed his food around his plate, only really answering when spoken to.
Jihoon elbowed him in the ribs, gaining his attention and Seungcheol rubbed the sore spot, sometimes he thinks that Jihoon forgets just how strong he was, “What?”
“I asked you a question, hyung,” Jihoon rolled his eyes.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“I asked if you looked at the demo I sent you? And if you and the others are finished with the rap portion? I have to get it in by next week for review.”
Seungcheol vaguely remembered Jihoon mentioning that to him a little while ago and cringed at the thought of telling Jihoon that he did not in fact finish the rap. Jihoon was terrifying when in producer mode and Seungcheol did not want to try him tonight.
So instead he grabbed Jihoon’s hand, “You know I love you right?”
Jihoon stared at him blankly before releasing a long sigh, “You haven’t started the rap, have you?”
Seungcheol hesitantly smiled, prepared to bolt out of his seat if Jihoon chose violence today. But he didn’t, instead mumbling under his breath and stabbing at his food with a little more force than necessary. Soonyoung reached over to snag Jihoon’s other hand, rubbing small circles on it and Seungcheol visibly watched the stress leak out of Jihoon’s shoulders. Taking in the bags under Jihoon’s eyes Seungcheol made a small mental note to keep an eye on him as well and to take some stuff off of his plate if Jihoon didn’t fight him on it.
He glanced back around the table, Hansol and Seungkwan were talking about something, with Seungkwan’s head resting on Hansol’s shoulder. Junhui was attempting to steal food off Jisoo’s plate, smiling sheepishly when he got caught but Jisoo just handed him the food, because it was Junhui and everyone had a soft spot for him. Chan was talking animatedly to Jeonghan who smiled and nodded, with Wonwoo watching Chan with nothing but adoration in his eyes. They looked happy, normal but his heart stuttered a bit in his chest when his eyes landed on Seokmin again. Mingyu and Minghao were visibly hovering around him, unsure of what to do.
Seokmin was like their sunshine in the group, their mood-maker. He laughed, he took up space, this Seokmin was like a shell of his Seokmin. His eyes had a far-away look to them, something that would be normal for Hansol, but Seokmin seemed locked in his head. He seemed afraid, like the thoughts in his head were the last things he wanted as company and yet, he couldn’t escape them.
“Min, you okay?” Jisoo’s voice was soft but it was still enough to make the whole table go silent as they all turned to Seokmin.
Seokmin shrunk under all the attention, something that, again, never usually happened. “I’m good.”
Silverwear clattered loudly against the table, “That is such bullshit, hyung.” Seungcheol blinked in surprise, Hansol rarely cursed, Chan, yes, Hansol, not so much. “Something is wrong.”
Seokmin stiffened, “Nothing’s wrong, Sol.”
“You’re lying,” Mingyu’s voice was barely a whisper but everyone’s attention turned to him, “You twist your ring when you’re lying.”
The tips of Seokmin’s ears turned red and his gaze dropped to the table, “I’m not–” He took a deep breath, “Can we talk about it in the morning? Please? I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
Hansol stood up and for a moment Seungcheol thought that he was going to storm off but he didn’t. Hansol rounded the table coming to a stop in front of Seokmin who looked up at him hesitantly. Neither said anything and the entire table seemed to wait with baited breath until Hansol moved, fitting himself neatly into Seokmin’s lap, hooking his chin over his shoulder. Seokmin deflated, wrapping his arms around Hansol’s waist and tucking his face into his neck.
It took a little while, but conversations resumed, although everyone seemed more aware of Seokmin and Hansol who sat quietly in their own world, with Mingyu occasionally forcing Seokmin or Hansol to eat a bite of food. Seungcheol said nothing, squeezing Jeonghan’s hand when it slipped into his.
Once everyone had finished eating, Seungcheol went around the table, grabbing plates and depositing them in the sink, they were a problem for later. When he went to leave the kitchen something caught his eye; Jihoon was leaning against the counter, typing furiously on his phone. Seungcheol slipped his arms around his waist, pulling Jihoon into his chest and peeking over his shoulder. Jihoon was fighting with their manager, something about the deadline being impossible to make and Seungcheol frowned, he was going to call him later. He pressed a kiss against his neck; to distract him if nothing else and Jihoon sighed, tipping his head back against Seungcheol’s shoulder.
Seungcheol grinned and peppered small kisses around his face, tightening his grip when Jihoon tried to wriggle away, cursing half-heartedly at him. Eventually Jihoon gave up, and Seungcheol took Jihoon’s phone cautiously from his hands, surprisingly, Jihoon didn’t fight him on it, letting him take the small device and place it on the counter.
“No more work today, please?”
Seungcheol could practically see the wheels turning in Jihoon’s head as he processed the request, pursing his lips before giving a small nod. “Fine.”
“Sleep with me tonight?”
Jihoon smiled and pretended to consider, tapping his finger against his chin, “Maybe,”
Seungcheol rolled his eyes, dragging him into the living room where Soonyoung stole him almost immediately. He did a quick scan of the room, mentally counting each of them, an old habit and relaxed when he hit twelve. They were all here, they were all safe.
Seokmin was leaning against Mingyu’s chest laughing and bickering with Seungkwan just to get a rise out of him. His heart squeezed at the sight and the room felt less suffocating, everyone seemed more relaxed. They threw on some movie one of them suggested but Seungcheol couldn’t bring himself to pay attention. He couldn’t ignore the little nagging in the back of his head that told him that something was off. That something was wrong. So instead he counted them, over and over, only able to breathe easier once he hit twelve.
Eventually, though, they started to disperse with Mingyu and Minghao dragging Seokmin to their room. Jihoon followed, saying he was going to shower, at which Soonyoung jumped at. Seungcheol headed to his room, pulling his shirt over his head and rifling through his draws to find another pair of shorts to wear to bed.
A knock sounded on his door and Seungcheol unlocked it before returning to his drawers. The person padded over to his bed and threw themselves on it, mumbling something.
Seungcheol turned to hear them better and found Seokmin lying face down on his bed. “Hey, baby,”
Seokmin turned on his back, giving Seungcheol a sad smile, “Hi, hyung,”
Seungcheol sat down next to him, leaning back on his hands, “Do you want to stay with me tonight? Jihoon should be coming soon.”
Before he finished his sentence Seokmin was already shaking his head, “I promised Mingyu and Hao I would stay with them tonight.”
Seungcheol smiled at the thought of a protective Mingyu and Minghao. Although the ‘97 line argued and bickered they would go to war for each other.
“Hyung?”
“Hmm?”
Seokmin sat up, straddling Seungcheol. He brought a hand up, tracing his face like he was trying to commit it to memory and out of habit Seungcheol leaned his head into Seokmin’s hand. “I love you, hyung.” It was said with such sincerity that Seungcheol was taken aback for a second.
“I love you more, Min.” He stroked Seokmin’s hip with his thumb trying and failing to find any answers in Seokmin’s eyes.
Seokmin pressed their foreheads together and whispered something before pressing a chaste kiss against his lips and slipping off of his lap. Seungcheol snagged his wrist, dragging him back into a tight hug.
“I don’t know what’s going on but I’m going to fix it. I promise.” He felt Seokmin smile against his neck.
“Thanks, hyung.” His voice was wet but before Seungcheol could do anything about it he kissed him once more then slipped out the door.
Once Seokmin was gone he flopped back against the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes. Has Seokmin been reading hate comments again? It would explain his quietness, which could mean a possible shut-down later but they would just have to work to keep his head above water. It could just be the stress of the schedule with all the promotions, but that doesn’t explain the amount of fear he seems to be expressing. Seungcheol groaned, he hated this feeling, helplessness.
“I can practically hear you thinking.”
Seungcheol lifted his head, Jihoon walked in toweling his hair dry in what looked like Junhui’s clothes. “Are those Junnie’s?”
Jihoon looked down at his outfit, “I think so but they also could be Wonu’s,” Seungcheol laughed and Jihoon fell onto the bed next to him, “You okay?”
He hummed, “Just worried,”
“Min?”
“Among other things, but he’s definitely taken the number one spot.”
“Jeonghan-hyung’s worried too.”
Seungcheol didn’t doubt it, Jeonghan loved the boys just as much as he did and the thought of any one of them distressed made him instantly distressed as well. He remembered holding him for two hours while he cried because Wonwoo was sick.
“Can he stay with us tonight?”
Jihoon looked at him sideways, “I already texted him, he said he’ll come once he finishes his routine.”
Seungcheol blinked, well, that was easy. Jihoon opened his phone, humming a tune under his breath. Seungcheol inched closer and Jihoon easily tucked him into his side. Jihoon wasn’t the most known for being physically affectionate, usually putting up a pretend fight and complaining but he did none of that which Seungcheol didn’t know whether to be worried about or grateful for. The door opened slowly and Jeonghan peeked his head around. His lips were bleeding, probably from being picked at and his nails were bitten to stubs.
“Hannie,”
Jeonghan said nothing, crawling onto the bed to curl up on Jihoon’s other side and releasing a long sigh through his nose. Jihoon clicked his phone off, using his hand to card it through Jeonghan’s hair. Seungcheol watched them, feeling the grip anxiety had on his lungs loosen a bit until his brain dragged him into restless sleep.
Seungcheol shot up in bed, ripping the sheets off of his legs. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. He stumbled out of the bed, not even attempting to be careful about waking up Jihoon and Jeonghan and managed to find his way into the hallway.
His stomach churned and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was going to throw up or pass out at the moment but it could have been both for all he knew. He threw open the door to Minghao’s room, scanning the room as best he could with the lights off. Mingyu was curled around Minghao but Seungcheol couldn’t see a third body. He backed out of the room.
It’s fine.
He probably just went to Soonyoung or someone.
He tossed open each door, searching each room. He wasn’t there.
A light caught his eye and he blindingly made towards it. It was one of their bathrooms.
“Min?” Seungcheol tried the door, his breath quickening when he found it was locked, “Seokmin, open the door.”
There was no response.
“Min? Open the door or I’m knocking it down.”
Again, no response.
He rubbed a hand down his face, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, okay.” He reared back, bringing his foot up and slamming it into the door. The noise vibrated through the entire apartment and within seconds he heard footsteps coming his way.
“Hyung?”
“What’s going on?”
Wonwoo and Junhui’s eyes were wide, hair wild after they had just been pulled out of sleep so violently.
“Seokmin’s in there, he’s not responding.” Seungcheol couldn’t think of anything else. The world zeroed down to that fact. Seokmin was in there, he wasn’t responding . The feeling in his chest only grew worse.
It took a moment for them to realize what was going on as Seungcheol brought his leg back up to kick the door, “Wait!” Seungcheol paused, “Stay right there.”
Wonwoo disappeared down the hall, coming back with a screwdriver and several other members following behind him. Wonwoo knelt next to the door, carefully unscrewing the door knob. It clattered to the ground unceremoniously and Wonwoo stepped back, letting Seungcheol take the lead again.
He took a breath to steady himself, then pushed the door open.
Seokmin was lying on the ground next to the bathtub. His skin was pale, almost gray and he was lying in a small pool of his own vomit. A few inches away from his outstretched hand was an empty bottle of pills.
For a moment no one breathed, no one spoke, no one moved, then, chaos.
“Call the ambulance!” Seungcheol ran to him, cradling Seokmin to his chest.
Seokmin’s head lolled back and Seungcheol felt like he was going to vomit. “Hey, baby, hey, stay with us okay?”
He heard sobs, he heard yelling and someone talking frantically on the phone but all of it went over his head. Tears clouded his vision and he pulled Seokmin impossibly closer.
This couldn’t be real.
This couldn’t be real.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, but at some point EMT pulled Seokmin away from him and Jihoon had to actually hold him back from fighting them. He couldn’t focus, he couldn’t think; all he saw was them carrying Seokmin down the stairs, away from him. He ripped himself away from Jihoon following Seokmin as close as they would let him.
No one stopped him from clambering into the ambulance and Seungcheol clasped Seokmin’s hands in his. A mask was strapped over his face but his skin still had a grayish hue to it. EMT shot him sad looks as he carefully brushed some hair out of Seokmin’s eyes, only pushing him back once they arrived at the hospital.
Doctors and nurses rushed out to meet them, swarming him and holding him back from following Seokmin. Then he was gone.
He crumbled on the waiting room floor they had brought him to, trying desperately to bring air into his lungs with short, gasping breaths.
This can’t be happening.
This can’t be real.
When he resurfaced he was surrounded by the other members, all in varying states of dress. Chan sat on the floor next to him, rubbing gentle circles onto the back of his hand. Jeonghan paced back and forth across the floor, roughly picking at his lips and nails. Jisoo attempted to get him to sit but was waved off and instead sat down in a chair with his head in his hands. Seungkwan’s face was tear-stained and every couple seconds he brought a hand up to wipe viciously at his eyes, Hansol stared off into space with tears running a steady path down his cheeks. Mingyu flitted around the waiting area, seemingly trying to find anything, anything, to do while they waited. Minghao argued quietly on the phone with someone, holding a death grip on Junhui’s hand, not that he seemed to mind, in fact, it looked to Seungcheol like he found comfort in it. Soonyoung fidgeted in his seat, only calming somewhat when Wonwoo placed a hand on his thigh. And Jihoon…Jihoon sat in a far corner, gripping his hands in his hair.
Seungcheol had half the mind to go comfort him but then a doctor walked in and all of them scrambled up immediately. The doctor startled, eyes glancing over each of them then down at his clipboard. He seemed nervous.
“Are you the family of Lee Seokmin?”
All heads turned to Seungcheol and he cleared his throat, “Um, we’re his bandmates…”
The doctor nodded, flipping to a page on his clipboard and glancing back up at him, “Choi Seungcheol?”
Seungcheol nodded.
“I’m sorry. We couldn’t save him.”
Everything in the room went quiet and Seungcheol felt like the room was spinning. “What?”
The doctor pursed his lips, “Would you like to see him?”
Seungcheol didn’t remember nodding but he found himself standing outside the window of Seokmin’s room. He was laying on the bed and if Seungcheol didn’t know any better he would have thought he was sleeping.
“We ruled it as an overdose, but we would like you to speak to the police…” The doctor's voice washed over him and to his side he heard someone collapse on the ground. His hand found purchase on the door knob.
“Mr. Choi, I wouldn’t–”
Seungcheol pushed open the door, crossing the threshold. Seokmin didn’t move or react, even when Seungcheol sat down next to him and grabbed his hand.
“Hi, baby,” Seungcheol ignored the fact that Seokmin’s hand was cold, that it was limp in his.
He brushed a stray hair out of Seokmin’s face, “Come back to me. Come back to us.” Logically he knew his request was impossible but right now he would’ve given anything for Seokmin to open his eyes, to see his smile.
“I need you. We need you.”
Seokmin didn’t respond. Seungcheol pressed a kiss against his knuckles. He would have dug to the depths of hell to take his place if that meant seeing Seokmin sing one more time or to hear him laugh again.
Tears pooled on the hospital bed sheets and Seungcheol didn’t have the strength to wipe them away. “ Why?” When there was no response, anger boiled to the top, “ Why did you do it?”
Then something in him broke. He cried, holding Seokmin against him as he pleaded for it all to be some sort of sick joke. For Seokmin to come back. For none of it to be real. But it was real and nothing he could do could bring Seokmin back. Grief washed over him and he felt like he was drowning, like he was underwater in a room full of air.
“ Please don’t forget that.”
That had been one of the last things Seokmin had said to him.
“ I love you, hyung,”
“I love you more, Min,”
“Please don’t forget that.”
It wasn’t just Seokmin being Seokmin. He was saying goodbye. And Seungcheol didn’t even realize it.
Seungcheol reached up with unsteady hands to cradle Seokmin’s head, pressing a kiss against his forehead, “I love you more.”
He exited the room and that seemed to break everyone around him out of their trances. They swarmed the room, crying and grabbing onto any piece of Seokmin they could hold. Seungcheol stood numbly on the other side of the door until he was approached by police.
He repeated the same story he had told the EMTs, detail for detail, his voice void of any emotion, but when the police went to question the other members Seungcheol’s hand shot out to stop them.
“Please don’t. Not right now.” They seemed to back off, handing him their information before leaving quietly.
Seungcheol didn’t remember leaving the hospital, he didn’t remember arriving back at the apartment, he didn’t remember how he ended up in Seokmin’s room. But he was here. They all were. Jeonghan clutched at one of the many stuffed animals on the bed trying desperately to regain his breath through the choked sobs he let out, but none of it was working.
Seungcheol’s heart hurt. He felt like death might hurt less than this but he got up, ripping open Seokmin’s closet. He wasn’t even entirely sure if the others were aware of him at the moment, all of them seemingly lost in their own heads, trying to battle with the knowledge that Seokmin wasn’t going to walk through the door, saying it was all a joke. That they would never see him smile again or randomly hear him singing while doing literally anything. They would never hear him laugh or watch him perform again. They would never get to see him again.
Digging around in the closet he grabbed any clothes he could that he recognized as Seokmins. He brought the first item over to Chan, gently coaxing his arms up so that he could slide the oversized and obnoxiously bright hoodie over his head. Chan blinked up at him, his eyes welled with tears as the hoodie slid over his head and Seungcheol wiped them away with his thumb. He went around dressing the members in various items of Seokmin’s clothing. Some wore his favorite T-shirts, others sweatshirts. All Seokmins. He pulled on a hoodie himself and was both overwhelmingly comforted by the scent and attacked with grief. His mind fought him, confused and for a moment Seungcheol questioned if he made the right choice.
He glanced at the others, who had slowly migrated towards the bed, but they all pressed closer to the fabrics, like they were trying to commit the smell to memory. He pulled Wonwoo and Seungkwan onto the bed as well. It was a tight fit, sleeping in one bed all together had been easier when they were smaller, younger, but they made it work. His arms slipped around Hansol’s waist from behind and he felt him shake in his hold. Quiet sobs came from every direction and Seungcheol did his best to offer any sort of comfort he had to the others, wiping away tears, murmuring reassurances, anything. He counted, stopping short at eleven each time, eleven heads, eleven of his boys, never reaching twelve. He would never reach twelve again. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him and he couldn’t fight the sleep that took over his body, even if it wasn’t peaceful.
“I love you, hyung.” Seokmin straddled his lap, tracing his face with his fingers like he was trying to commit Seungcheol to memory.
Seungcheol gripped Seokmin’s waist, “Don’t go,” His voice cracked over the last word and Seokmin smiled tearily at him, “Don’t go, I can fix it, let me fix it,”
“Please don’t forget that.” He cupped Seungcheol’s face and rested their foreheads together. He was fading, like he was simply made out of dust. Seungcheol couldn’t hold onto him. When Seungcheol looked up Seokmin was gone and he was alone.
When Seungcheol woke up he was already crying, the tears gathered against one of Seokmin’s pillows Seungcheol was resting on, one by one absorbing into the material. He carefully untangled himself from the pile of limbs on the bed and crept towards the kitchen. It had to be around midday judging by the amount of light streaming in from the windows.
He plugged his phone in, not even getting the chance to open it before his screen exploded with media coverage of last night and dozens of missed phone calls from both friends and family and the company. He turned his phone over and pressed his forehead against the cool countertop trying to fight off the rush of nausea. His phone vibrated with an incoming call and Seungcheol blindly reached for it.
“Hello?”
The other line was silent for a little while then, “Hello, this is officer Kim. We would like to talk to you again about last night and reexamine the scene.” His voice was gentle like he was afraid that using his voice too much was going to break him.
“Okay.”
Within a few minutes there was a knock on the door and Seungcheol unlocked the door, avoiding eye contact with the police. He brought them into the apartment, telling them where the bathroom was. He didn’t want to be anywhere near it. Two or three headed in the direction he told them, the other two asked if they could sit down and talk.
Jisoo stood in the doorway of Seokmin’s room, grabbing Seungcheol’s arm when he walked by to bring the officers to the living room.
“Cheol…” It sounded like a warning, for what though, Seungcheol wasn’t quite sure.
He cupped Jisoo’s face, swiping his thumb over the dark purple circles under his eyes, “It’s okay, baby, I’ll take care of it. Go back to sleep.” He went to pull away but Jisoo didn’t loosen his grip.
“Please don’t do this alone.”
Seungcheol already knew what was coming, “You don’t have to do this, Shua,” But Jisoo already had an expression of determination on his face. Seungcheol knew at this point that arguing with him would be pointless and would ultimately end with Jisoo in victory so he just took Jisoo’s hand and brought him to the living room as well.
The officers glanced up at them, surprise marring their faces before their masks slipped back on. They all sat down and the officers flipped through his notes, “Can you tell us what happened?”
Seungcheol took a deep breath to ward off the tears and Jisoo squeezed his hand in comfort, “I went to sleep and woke up at around 1:30? Maybe 2:00, in a panic–”
“Why in a panic?”
“I don’t know, I just knew something was wrong.”
The officer nodded, “Okay and then you found him in the bathroom?”
“It was locked, I tried kicking it down at first but then one of my other boys ended up just taking the door handle off.”
They looked at Jisoo, like they were asking if he was the one that took off the handle, Jisoo just shook his head, leaning into Seungcheol. The officers stood up, “Can we speak to him? The one that took off the door handle?’
Seungcheol blocked their path, “Maybe next time.”
“We have to—”
“He’s sleeping right now.” A fierce urge to protect ran through his veins, would Wonwoo have to talk to the police eventually? Yes, but Seungcheol would be damned if he let him go through that right now. The officers sat back down, hesitantly but continued to ask questions. When Seungcheol couldn’t finish an answer Jisoo was quick to fill in the details that he couldn’t relive right now and he zoned out, leaning into Jisoo for support.
One of the officers glanced behind him and Seungcheol snapped out of it, turning in that direction. Junhui stood in the doorway, twisting his fingers together and wiping tears off of his face with Seokmin’s sweatshirt. He opened his mouth but Seungcheol was already crossing the room, gathering Junhui in his arms.
“I woke up and you weren't there and it hurts, hyung, it hurts”
Seungcheol glanced around for the nearest room to pull Junhui into for privacy but his first priority was getting his erratic breathing under control. He slipped his hand under Junhui’s sweatshirt to thumb at his hip, “I know, Junnie, I know.”
Junhui pressed his face into Seungcheol’s neck to muffle his tears, “ Why did he leave?”
“I don’t know.” It was barely more than a whisper but it echoed in the empty room. Junhui fell apart, holding onto Seungcheol like he was the only thing keeping him together and Seungcheol let him. He would let himself be drowned in their tears if only to make them feel better. But he couldn’t. This wasn’t something he could fix, this wasn’t something he could make better. The officers must have left because when Seungcheol glanced back up they weren’t there and only Jisoo sat quietly on the couch, watching them with a far away look in his eyes.
The others woke up slowly and it took an hour to convince them to even consider eating food and even then he still had to beg them to eat. For the first time in years their apartment was silent. There was no laughing. No conversation. Nothing. It was like all the life had been drained from them in just a single night.
Mingyu got up first, taking all their leftover takeout and bringing it into the kitchen. Seungcheol followed a little while later, finding him deep cleaning, his movements frantic.
“Gyu…”
Mingyu didn’t answer him so he stopped in front of him and clasped his hands together, “Gyu, you don’t have to do this right now,”
“Please, hyung, I can’t–” Mingyu tried to pull away from Seungcheol knocking a glass onto the floor where it shattered. They both stared down at it until Mingyu dropped to his knees and began grabbing the shards.
“Mingyu, no–”
Mingyu hissed, clutching his hand to his chest and Seungcheol could see blood running down the sides of his closed fist. He grabbed Mingyu’s arm, carefully guiding him away from the glass and propping him up on the counter.
“Don’t move.” He disappeared down the hall, heading into one of their other bathrooms to grab a first aid kit. When he came back Mingyu was still in the same spot and Seungcheol stepped between his legs, gently prying his hand away from his chest. Mingyu didn’t react when he cleaned the cut nor when he wrapped his hand and Seungcheol made a small mental note to take Mingyu to the doctor later to see if he needed stitches. When he finished wrapping it he kissed Mingyu’s hand and turned around to clean the glass.
“I can’t just do nothing.”
Seungcheol looked up at Mingyu who just stared down at his injured hand, “What?”
“I can’t just do nothing. Please, I’m going crazy,” He let out a wet laugh, “And it hasn’t even been a day.”
When Seungcheol finished gathering the shards he got up, depositing them into the trash.
“I miss him, hyung.”
Seungcheol took a deep breath, “I miss him too, baby.”
“Why did he do it? Why didn’t he just come to us?” Mingyu’s voice was fragile and Seungcheol wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in his arms, to tell him that it was going to be okay, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know himself. “It hurts, everytime I think about him it feels like I’m dying.”
He stepped in between Mingyu’s legs again, wiping away some stray tears.
“I just want him back.”
Seungcheol dropped his hand, leaning his head against Mingyu’s chest, “I do too.” They sat in silence for a little while until the other members piled into the kitchen, pressing close and wrapping their arms around them.
He wanted to break. He wanted to cry, to scream, but he couldn’t, not when they needed him to be strong. So he blinked back his tears and ignored the burning in the back of his throat. He pulled back, slipping away and into Seokmin’s room. He closed the door behind him, trying desperately to reign in his emotions. He distracted himself, finding new sweatshirts and T-shirts, laying them down on the bed and grabbing Seokmin’s cologne to spray on them.
Gathering them in his arms he brought them back out to the living room. They were all standing there, looking so unsure of themselves and Seungcheol hated it. He hated how scared they looked, like they were preparing for another blow that could come at any minute.
“Seungkwan, c’mere,” He pulled the T-shirt off that he had stuck on him last night, pulling a different one over his head. He did the same as he did last night, pulling Seokmin’s sweatshirts and T-shirts over the heads of his remaining members before dragging them back to Seokmin’s room. A collective sigh rang out in the group and Seungcheol watched everyone visibly deflate as they crawled onto the bed. Everyone but Jeonghan.
Thinking back on it, Seungcheol doesn’t think he’d heard Jeonghan talk at all today, “Hannie? Do you want to sleep somewhere else tonight?”
Jeonghan clutched the stuffed animal he had grabbed last night, “No! No, I just…”
“Just what?”
“I want to see him.”
Seungcheol’s heart shattered and he racked his brain trying to come up with a solution. Obviously he couldn’t let Jeonghan actually see Seokmin, as much as he wanted to, it wasn't possible. He snagged the remote on the bedside table, turning on the TV and heading over to Youtube. He pulled up an old GoSe episode, turning the volume up and settling onto the bed next to Hansol again. Jeonghan joined and everyone’s eyes fixated on the screen. Sleep pulled at him and he gave in, surrounded by the scent of Seokmin’s cologne and his voice, something he didn’t think he’d ever hear again.
The next few weeks were hell on earth. Pledis released an official statement that Seokmin was in fact dead and that the death was ruled as a suicide. Fans flooded social media to express condolences and offer comfort but if Seungcheol was being honest, it only made it worse. They had been given a hiatus and from there the state of everyone only seemed to deteriorate. Every morning he woke up, begged everyone to eat, washed Seokmin’s clothes just so they could put them back on, forced them to take a shower and then spent the night in Seokmin’s room again, listening to his singing covers or a GoSe episode, anything just to hear his voice.
They all grieved in their own ways, Wonwoo reverted into himself, Mingyu cleaned every available surface at least twelve times each day, and Minghao seemed to try to erase Seokmin completely, refusing to talk about him or even look at pictures; like if he pretended Seokmin was never there, it couldn’t hurt him that he was gone. Hansol resorted to anger, something completely out of character for him, but Seungcheol would rather deal with the yelling than to watch Jeonghan walk around like a ghost or Jihoon throw himself into work the way he has lately. Junhui and Soonyoung avoided the rooms Seokmin used the most, aside from his bedroom and Jisoo…Jisoo sleeps, Seungcheol can actually count on one hand how many times Jisoo had been up for more than three hours. Seungkwan hasn’t sung in weeks and Chan has a physical reaction anytime Seokmin comes up on the news, which was all the time, often running to go throw up. No one went near the bathroom.
Everything was falling apart. He was falling apart. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep them all together, not if he was just as broken. Every morning when he woke up he had to remember that Seokmin wasn’t going to be next to him, that he wasn’t going to see Seokmin later that day. He wanted to die all over again. But he couldn't because they needed him.
The day of the funeral Seungcheol wanted nothing more than to run, to hide. Nausea churned his stomach, this was the first time Seventeen was going to be in the public eye again after Seokmin’s death. He clutched Chan’s hand in his and kept his eyes down, flinching at the invasive lights of the cameras. It passed in a blur and Seungcheol only remembered how tightly Seokmin’s parents had hugged him, crying onto his shoulder.
He should have been able to stop it.
He should have been able to save him.
The rest of the event went by and when Seungcheol blinked he was home, back in Seokmin’s room. It was still relatively untouched, aside from the bed and clothes they took out to wear. He picked up a stray sweatshirt, going to toss it in the closet when something caught his eye. He knelt down grabbing a small black box and pulled it out, sitting on the floor. Inside sat twelve letters each with a thumb drive attached to it with twine. The top letter read : Choi Seungcheol in Seokmin’s scrawly handwriting.
“No, no, no, no, no,” He shuffled through them, there was one letter for each member. Tears already blurred his vision but he carefully untied the twine, laying the thumb drive in his lap. Slowly, he opened the letter with his name on it.
Dear Hyung,
Please don’t blame yourself. I already know that you’re going to but please don’t. None of this is your fault. Thank you for everything you’ve done, I love you, hyung and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m leaving you like this and I’m sorry that you guys have to find me. But it hurts, hyung, every day it hurts and I can’t do it anymore. I love you all more than anything, you guys were the reason I smiled, the reason I laughed, the reason I stayed so long. But I’m tired. I know you’re probably angry, and you have every right to be but please don’t be mean to each other, take care of the others for me, okay? I put together a drive of videos for you. I don’t know if you’ll open them but I attached it to my letters. I also left a separate box under my bed of stuffed animals I left you. They have a name for each of the corresponding members, because I know none of us really like to sleep alone. I’m going to miss you so much, I’m sorry. But this isn’t a goodbye, goodbyes mean forever, this is more of a ‘see you later.’ I’ll see you again, hyung. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be waiting for you guys.
I love you more,
Min ♡
Seungcheol dropped the letter, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes to try to slow the flow of tears. He didn’t have too much time to wallow though because his phone rang, making him jump.
“Hello?”
“Hyung? I–I need help.” Seungkwan’s voice filtered through the phone filled with panic.
Immediately he was on alert, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Jihoon-hyung, he locked himself in the studio and he won’t come out. I don’t know what to do,” In the background he could hear Chan and Hansol begging Jihoon to unlock the door, but it didn’t seem like they were making any progress.
“On my way.” The entire car ride to the company he kept Seungkwan on the phone, both trying to calm him and figure out how to get Jihoon out of the studio. When he got there all three were crying and looked to be on the verge of a panic attack.
“Fuck,” He knocked on the door, “Ji? Are you in there?”
There was no answer and Seungcheol would be lying if he said this didn’t make him want to throw up. He pulled his phone back out of his pocket.
“Hannie? Hey, I need you to come to the company to pick up the boys.” He tried to keep a lid on his panic but it must have slipped through because on the other line he heard Jeonghan and Jisoo start running through the apartment.
“What’s going on? Are they okay? Is someone hurt?”
“No one’s hurt, but Jihoon locked himself in the studio and I need to get to him.” He heard doors slam shut and an engine starting.
“Cheol? Please help him.”
Seungcheol nodded even though they couldn’t see him and handed his phone to Hansol. They seemed to calm a bit and Seungcheol took that opportunity to go back to the lock. If there was one thing he’d learned since that night, it was how to pick locks.
When he finally got the door open Jihoon was sitting on the couch facing away from him. Either he didn’t notice or didn’t care that Seungcheol had entered the room because his eyes stayed fixated on his laptop screen. Once the screen came into view Seungcheol faltered a bit, it was one of Seokmin’s old vlogs. He slipped in between the arm of the couch and Jihoon, pulling him back against his chest. He went easily. Without a word he slipped the letter labeled as “Jihoon-hyung” out of his pocket and placed it into Jihoon’s lap.
Jihoon glanced down at the letter and Seungcheol felt him immediately tense up. He hooked his chin over Jihoon’s shoulder.
“Is this…?”
“I found them earlier, he wrote one for each of us.”
Jihoon took in an unsteady breath and began to unwrap the twine, opening the letter. Seungcheol zoned out to give him some semblance of privacy, focusing on the vlog. He found himself smiling when Seokmin smiled and wondered how long Seokmin had been hiding it from them. How long had he been hurting and not told them?
“Hyung?”
Seungcheol snapped out of it, “Hmm?”
“I don’t want to reassign Min’s parts.”
It took him a minute to process what Jihoon had said, “What do you mean?”
“The company, they want me to just reassign his parts but I don’t want to make another song if he’s not in it. Hyung, I don’t want to be on stage if he’s not there,”
“I don’t either,” He kept his voice calm but inside he wanted to shred the heads off of everyone in the company, “I’ll talk to them later okay? I’ll talk to the boys too. We can be done.”
After a little coaxing he convinced Jihoon to go home with him, letting Jeonghan and all the others snag him away the moment they got through the door. He hesitated crossing the threshold though, picking his keys back up and making eye contact with Soonyoung who just nodded at him. With that he was out the door. He made a quick stop, grabbing some sunflowers before reaching his final destination.
“Hey, baby,” He sat criss-crossed on the damp grass, laying the flowers down, “I miss you.” He ran his hand over the words carved into the stone, ‘Lee Seokmin’.
“But I understand why you had to leave, I just wish you didn’t.” He wiped at a stray tear, “Don’t worry about us, we’re going to be okay. We’ll be okay until we see you again and then we can tell you everything, but they might beat your ass first.” He repositioned the flowers, brushing off his pants as he stood up.
“I love you, Min,”
As he walked away the trees and wind whispered the words Seokmin couldn’t say.
“I love you more.”