It was late at night, and they had just finished up a concert.  The other members had already gone back to the dorm, but Namjoon had stayed behind to talk to the managers and discuss their upcoming schedules.  He was just leaving the studio now to head home.

He didn’t feel good; that was all he knew.  There was no particular reason for it.  Sure, he’d made a few small mistakes during the show, and his voice wasn’t perfect near the end due to his sensitive vocal chords.  Things like that happened often, and it didn’t usually upset him too much.  He was a little stressed, sure, but he was used to it, being the leader and all.  But tonight, he just felt all of it.  Every negative thought, regret, fear or doubt he’d ever had about himself came to his mind all at once.

Once he had walked into the darkened dorm, he turned to lock the door behind him.  He let himself rest there for just a moment, staying still.  His eyes closed, and he leaned his forehead against the door, letting out a shaky sigh.  Sleeping tonight was not going to be easy.  He could already tell.

It was silent in the normally lively space.  The others must’ve all been asleep.  This didn’t surprise him.  It was nearly 2 in the morning at that point, and they had to get up around 5 tomorrow morning for yet another full day of work.  He was not unaccustomed to working on a few hours of sleep, and he knew it would all be fine if he could just fall asleep right away.  Unfortunately, he also knew that wouldn’t be the case.

Namjoon slowly made his way down the hallway to his and Jungkook’s room.  He went in, quietly closing the door behind him, and crossed the room to sit down on his bed softly.  He let his bag slip from his fingers and drop onto the floor at his feet, and he couldn’t bring himself to remember or care if there was something breakable inside.  He leaned over, settling his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his hands over his face.  And as soon as he did, something in him broke.

He felt tears start to sting his eyes and he let them fall, moving one hand to hold his forehead.  He just couldn’t stop thinking about everything and it hurt too much.

He had no right to feel this way, he knew that.  His life was full and amazing.  It was different than what he had originally expected his life to be, but he loved what he did.  He was able to achieve his dreams through his career: making music, performing, winning award after award.  And he never worked hard because he had to, he did so because he wanted to.  He wanted to make the best music possible for the group, for the fans.

The people around him were great, too.  He didn’t often get to see his family and friends back home, and that hurt sometimes, but they were still there when he needed them.  The company, the managers, the staff, they were all reasonable and kind and helpful, and they made his life much easier.  And, of course, he had s.  He was grateful every day that each and every one of them had become part of the group, that they got along so well.  He couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened to BTS if it had been anyone else but them.  They were all wonderful in their own way, and he was glad to have them.

Of course he had hard times, they all did.  Sometimes hate was thrown at him, and it could hurt.  Sometimes the weight of being a leader took its toll.  And sometimes, he simply just made a mistake.  But how could any of that chip away at all that he had achieved?  Why should any of those trivial hardships ever distract him from how lucky he was to be living his life?

They shouldn’t.  He knew that.  He had no right to be feeling like this.  And that just made him feel even worse.

He felt an emptiness in his chest, and his stomach felt queasy.  He was letting out quiet sobs at this point, and tears were dropping off his cheeks, making small spots on his jeans.  But he couldn’t stop.  He was just sitting there, hoping that the feeling would go away soon, and becoming increasingly worried that it wouldn’t.  He needed to go to bed, so that he could wake up early, so that he could go to work.  Maybe he could take a walk to clear his head, but it was so late already--

“Hyung?”  And only then did he remember Jungkook.

He straightened up a little in surprise, turning a little to look up towards the upper bunk before returning his gaze to the floor.  He hadn’t even thought about keeping quiet.  He had just assumed that the maknae was already asleep, and he was a heavy sleeper.  He had to be, rooming with Rapmon.  And Namjoon was positive the noise he had been making in the last few minutes was nothing compared to the loud snoring Jungkook slept through every night.

“Ah...sorry, Jungkookie,” He mumbled, voice hoarse.  He swallowed down another sob and tried to take a deep breath.  “I thought you were asleep already,” He added, because he didn’t know what to say.  The kid had clearly heard him crying.  He didn’t cry often, and he especially didn’t like to cry in front of s.  He didn’t want to look weak, he couldn’t look weak.  He was the leader, they were all depending on him, and he had to be strong…

For some reason, this thought brought about another fit of sobs that he couldn’t even hold back anymore.  He covered his mouth to stifle them as best as he could.  They were just loud enough that he could hardly hear it when the bunk above his creaked.  He buried his face in his hands again, trying his best to get himself back under control.  So that Kookie could go to bed, so that they could wake up early, so that they could go to work--

He felt the mattress dip a little further as someone sat next to him on the bed and small, cool arms wrapped around his torso from the side.  A chin settled onto his shoulder, and the arms around him squeezed a little tighter.

Namjoon was a little taken aback.  He hadn’t expected this from Jungkook.  Their maknae was kind, but he wasn’t very expressive of his emotions, and he certainly wasn’t usually the one to comfort the others.  However, if Namjoon knew one thing about him, it was that he was in pain when his hyungs were.  Remembering that stung a little, adding insult to injury.

He took a glance towards Jungkook’s face at his shoulder.  The younger’s eyes were closed, and he looked like he was holding back tears as well.  This only confirmed what Namjoon had feared.  With one hand, he moved to touch Jungkook’s arms where they were clasped around his stomach.

The gesture was more of a way of comforting the maknae than accepting any comfort himself.  Even so, after a while, Namjoon’s sobs slowed to stuttered breathing.  Neither of them said anything--they didn’t need to.  Namjoon just closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and feeling the calming presence of his dongsaeng slowly ease his anxiety.