With a comeback around the corner it’s nonstop. Practising the new, extremely demanding, choreography to perfection, singing the song until it feels it has imprinted in their DNA, changing stiles until they find the exact one that matches their concept. And more, so much more. They are always moving, having meetings to organise their schedule, listening to orders and warnings… always. They are an over-two-years-old band and they still get the same warnings from the beginning.

With so much to do before they actually have their comeback, Jackson doesn’t even have time to feel tired. That is a luxury he can’t afford, so he keeps pushing forward and doing what he’s told. The idol is demanding too much from his own body and it’s been like that for too long, this one can’t even keep up anymore and it’s just like Mark predicted.

Jackson collapses.

No, it’s not like he dramatically faints on set or their way, he doesn’t really pass out but it still scares the living days out of Mark.

It happens one morning when they have to get up at four in the morning, coming back to the dorm the night before past midnight. Mark shakes Jackson awake, carefully, whispering his name and his hand gentle on the younger’s shoulder. Obviously, Jackson resists a bit at first, he’s slept like two hours at best, having trouble falling asleep due to over-exhaustion.

“Come on, Gaga, it’s time to get up. If you don’t, BamBam is gonna use the bathroom and you know how long he takes, then we’ll all be late,” Mark calls, hoping that will help.

It does not.

“I can use all that time to sleep,” Jackson tries to bargain, but Mark does not stop so he has to take the older’s wrist to stop him from shaking Jackson awake. As if that hand were a teddy bear, the younger cuddles it, kind of pulling Mark a bit closer to his own mattress, curling to the side and rubbing his face against the warm skin of Mark’s back hand. It’s not soft, it’s actually very dry and boney so Jackson makes a mental note to give the other idol some hand cream. Maybe one of Pikachu so he’ll love it and be all cute with it.

Jackson can’t really control his thoughts when he’s half-asleep. Or three-fourth-asleep, whatever.

The younger feels Mark’s other hand in his hair, ruffling it which only helps to make it closer to fully asleep again.

“We can’t do that, so get up and go wash up. You can sleep on the drive to the MV location,” Mark suggests and even if he hadn’t said that, Jackson had planned to sleep through that already.

“Ugh, fine~” Jackson whines, dragging the last vowel sound in the word, but still curling a bit more into himself, dragging Mark with him. 

Jackson has loads of stuffed toys, but Mark’s hand, dry and boney as it is, is still more comfortable.

Blinking to drive the sleep grogginess, Jackson finally releases the older’s hand and takes a deep breath to wake up. His body feels made of lead and it honestly takes too much of him to move, but Mark is right and he needs to get going soon. BamBam takes too long in the shower (everyone knows it’s because he talks to his reflection for longer than he takes the shower) so everyone has agreed to never again wait for BamBam to be done to go in, but instead letting him be the last while they get ready for the day, calmly. And it’s also a punishment for BamBam who has to rush to get ready and run to catch up with them who block the lift and make the younger run downstairs.

It happens every time.

Jackson decides it’s better to do it like taking a band-aid. Fast and without hesitation. So he completely releases Mark and gets out of bed with the agility of a former fencing medalist. However, that is such a wrong call of judgement because the moment he does, everything goes black and the only thing he can see are little fluffs of white floating in his visual field. Completely disorientated, his hands bat desperately, trying to hold on any sort of support but his fingers only grace something before his knees give out and he ends up falling, hitting his head, hard, against the wall next to his mattress. It makes a very painful sound that almost drowns Mark’s panicked scream.

Jackson still can’t see, though. The collision with the wall and the pain that erupts with it keeping his vision black, yet he feels hands on him, careful yet shaky with worry.

“Gaga, are you okay? Oh God, can you hear me? Did you