Some days Seungwan wakes and the world is tilted on it's axis. Colours are colours and shapes are shapes, but she there's a little bit of her that does not wake.

Seungwan fixates. Seungwan obsesses. Seungwan overthinks.

On days like these there's a restlessness thrumming in her blood and a hunger in her soul. 

Seugwan does not feel whole. It is emotion without discernible reason and she does not understand; it terrifies her and she runs from it.  

Her actions mean something. Her actions don't. Her motions are mechanical and her mind is unaware. 

Seungwan adjust. Seungwan perfects. Seungwan repeats.  

Her members think her dedicated, think her hard-working and they are not wrong. She works her body until her mind is numb to all sensation. 

She dances until her body fails her, sings until she cannot breathe. Her fingers bleed from where they're pressed against steel strings for far too long.

 Seungwan feels tired. Seungwan feels breathless. Seungwan feels the sharp sting of pain at her finger tips.  But she's distracted from the hole in her chest and that's all that matters.

 She spends those days running from the feeling that something is missing, that something is not quite right. Seungwan starts the moment she gets out of bed and doesn't stop until she cannot run anymore.

She lies in the dark and feels her thoughts strain against the confines of her mind. There's an ache that grows and grows until she cannot take any more.

Seungwan cries. Seungwan prays. Seungwan breaks.

Seungwan's soul screams in the dead of night.