“I have bad news. You strained your back.”

It was like Jongin’s stomach dropped out from underneath him, and he struggled to wrap his mind around the idea. He opened his mouth, but no words came out for several seconds until he protested, “But I’m a dance major.”

“I’m sorry.” The doctor shook his head before listing his treatment plan. Jongin wasn’t listening though, and he caught a few phrases of, “Three to four weeks,” and, “back brace.” The man hands Jongin a piece of paper before showing him how to correctly put on the brace. It felt tight. Stiff.

Uncomfortable.

He mind-numbingly stumbled out of the doctor’s office and his feet trace their way home. It’s only when Chaeyeon looked a little confused that he realized that he had gone to her apartment instead of his. He grimaced as he kicked off his shoes, pain shooting up his back.

She frowned, lifting the bottom of his shirt, “What is that?”

“My back brace,” he answered emotionlessly, not even sure how to explain. And somehow, she gets that.

“How long?”

“A month.”

And he knew that she was busy and didn’t have that much time to spare, but she curled her arms around him anyway, her head resting against his shoulder before putting on a movie to try to make him feel better.

Jongin felt even guiltier because he hadn’t told her the entire truth. He hadn’t told her that he f