On most days, Gong Chansik really likes Jung Jinyoung.

Loves him, even.

But not today.

Today he hates him.

Chansik bursts into the room, eyes emitting flames and mouth ready to spout vitriol because see, this is not supposed to happen, this is not fair, so not fair, and Jinyoung had no right to do this to them—to him.

Jinyoung is more than a friend. He’s Chansik’s hyung, for heaven’s sake, one of the more dependable older brother figures in Chansik’s life, next to Dongwoo. Okay, so maybe Sunwoo and Junghwan are dependable in their own ways too, but let’s face it, most of the time they act like a couple of crazy kids, and Chansik feels more like a hyung than a maknae in front of them and their antics.

Also, Jinyoung isn’t leader for nothing.He volunteered himself to lead them, and in Chansik’s book this means that Jinyoung knows he’s responsible enough for this—he’s strong enough for this— so he has absolutely no right to go and pull this sort of crap.

His eyes land on Jinyoung who’s lying on a prone position in the huge, huge bed, so huge it dwarfs him by comparison, so huge that for a moment Chansik’s vision swings and he sees a fragile little child on the bed instead of his strong, smart, dependable Jinyoung hyung.

And he’s pretending to be asleep.

His Jinyoung hyung  with the awkward smile and the sharp fox eyes that look scarily intense during those days they spend at  the studio recording, and Junghwan bemoans that he won’t be able to see sunlight for days again, at least, not until he gets his parts exactly right, just how Jinyoung wants him to.

Jinyoung hyung, who makes a mean Aglio e Olio,  but can hardly navigate through the streets of Seoul even though he has a map right in front of him, Jinyoung hyung, who thinks Netherlands’ capital is Louis Armstrong , who always drops and leaves things around and Chansik has to go and pick it up for him, who plans hidden cameras with him collapsing to the ground in a dead faint, so believable that he makes half the staff noonas cry, then apologizes as he runs around trying to avoid being hit by waterguns because Jinyoung, how can you be like this, how can you do this, you scared us to death-

Jinyoung hyung.

Jinyoung hyung.

Jinyoung-freaking-hyung.

“I hate you,” Chansik says now and he hates how his voice breaks in all the wrong places, like it usually does when he sings and he’s so nervous he feels he might fall off the edge of the earth. In his mind he remembers Jinyoung saying It’s okay, Chansik,  you’ll do better next time, I know because it’s you and he hates Jinyoung even more.

“I hate you,” he says again, just to make his point, just because he can, but there’s no pleasure in doing so. Jinyoung still has his eyes closed, pretending not to hear. “Why, hyung? Why didn’t you tell us? We’ve been together for years, we live in the same darned house, and we’re together every single day so why didn’t you tell us? Why did you keep smiling and saying we’re okay, you’re okay and then pull a stunt like this?”

Be the one, all for one, Chansik thinks bitterly, and realizes what a lie that was, because this? This wasn’t them being one, this wasn’t them being there for each other no matter what, this was Jinyoung being an , being all stupid and selfish and taking things alone, shutting them out and bottling things up within him, keeping those blasted fears and sadness inside until he bursts.

Jinyoung keeps on pretending to be asleep.

“What happened, hyung? What were those stupid Saturday nights for, huh? You made those meetings so we could talk about what we did right, and what things went wrong during the week. You encouraged me to voice out me fears,  you said just because I was the maknae it didn’t mean that I would always be standing in the sidelines for the rest of our lives, I needed to be more assertive, that I needed to step up my game. How many nights, hyung? How many darned Saturday nights passed, how many times could you have told us, called us, asked help from us?”

And really, that right there is what makes Chansik want to pull his hair out in frustration because there were four others in the group, four other people that Jinyoung could pull aside and talk to, and Chansik tried, for heaven’s sake, every single night he asks Jinyoung  if they’re doing okay, if Jinyoung’s doing okay, and Jinyoung always answers the same darned thing.

I’m doing great, Chansik. Did you hear the fans tonight?

I’m doing great Chansik. Did you see me with that arrow?

I’m doing great, Chansik.

I’m doing great.

And Chansik thinks, what lies.

Jinyoung just keeps on pretending he’s asleep, and Chansik can’t take it anymore so he goes and shakes Jinyoung by the shoulders, shakes him so hard he might be rattling the leader’s brain cells around in his head, shakes him so hard, trying to wake him up because Chansik can’t stand him pretending, if this was a hidden camera it wasn’t funny anymore, and he really needs to wake up or else Chansik is going to hurl him out the window and to the ground below.

“Wake up, hyung, listen to me you piece of crap, you lying bas—you hypocrite, I hate you-hate you-hate you—“

And then he feels himself being pulled  away by stronger hands and he recognizes the scent and thinks, somewhat abstractedly, oh, it’s Dongwoo hyung, and he shivers from the touch, Dongwoo hyung is so warm, until he realizes Dongwoo hyung wasn’t all that warm. It was Chansik who was cold, freezing though the fabric of his shirt.

He slumps to the floor, having spent his energy at his angry outburst, but it’s okay, Dongwoo hyung’s got him, he’s there, he’s always there, he’ll always be there even when Jinyoung isn’t because he’s stubborn and is still pretending to be fast asleep. A tear falls from Chansik’s eye-he’s always been easy to cry like that-and others follow, coursing down his cheeks even as he shakes in Dongwoo’s embrace, and the older boy murmurs comforting words.

He doesn’t understand what Dongwoo is saying, and he knows he doesn’t need to, it’s okay, because it was just Dongwoo’s voice that he needs to hear, warm and soft and caring and there, the way Jinyoung wasn’t, the way Jinyoung was never going to be.

Is it my fault hyung, he wants to ask  Dongwoo.

“It’s no one’s fault, Channie,” Dongwoo says in clipped tones, and okay, maybe he’s telepathic like Chansik has always suspected, or maybe he spoke aloud and he didn’t notice.

He didn’t notice.

The same way he didn’t notice how Jinyoung always, always wakes up in the middle of the night and he wakes up as well, and Jinyoung goes to the bathroom  with water running into the sink and Chansik wonders why he takes so long, but he never asks because he always falls asleep  just before Jinyoung comes back.

It happened one night.

The next night.

Every night after that.

But he didn’t notice.

He also didn’t notice the growing circles under Jinyoung’s eyes, bluish black, ugly shadows  marring his pale skin, usually hidden under layers of makeup  as the makeup artist noona tuts in disapproval and Jinyoung smiles and apologizes.

He didn’t notice when Jinyoung starts to eat less, delighting Junghwan who, in a fit of misplaced concern, declares this a waste of completely good food and offers to finish Jinyoung’s portions. He didn’t notice either when Jinyoung stops eating completely.

There are a lot of things they—he— didn’t notice, wrapped up as they are in their own schedules and other things that-darn it, Chansik thinks now- aren’t even that important, at least, not when compared to Jinyoung hyung.

He didn’t notice, and neither did the others, even though there are four other members in the group, four of them who could have pulled Jinyoung aside and made him talk about what was wrong, four of them and yet no one noticed Jinyoung and the black hole he’s slowly but surely slipped into.

No one really noticed until this morning, when they all came shuffling into the bathroom after Chansik’s second scream, the first one being all weak and breathy and voiceless because –oh God-oh no-Jinyoung-oh God-Jinyoung hyung is lying on the floor with a pool of blood-so red it’s almost black-around him.  All four of them, staring down open mouthed at Jinyoung, Jinyoung hyung, who can barely walk around Seoul without complaining his legs are about to fall off,  Jinyoung hyung who dances the shuffle in a funny way, Jinyoung hyung-ohmydearGodno-their strong, dependable leader, is lying on the floor with a puddle of blood around him, thin scars on the inside of his thighs, almost fading at the top, newer ones at the bottom, and a much bigger wound-ohnonono-a huge gaping slit  on his wrist, and Jinyoung hyung looks pale, paler than usual,  but for the first time in months, and this Chansik finally notices, he looks strangely happy and at peace.

Chansik leans on the wall for support, knuckles bone-white, pressed against his mouth, scared he might vomit or faint or both and he hears voices, Sunwoo and Junghwan muttering curses that would probably make Jinyoung hyung frown upon them but he won’t, not anymore, because ohGod he’s lying in a pool of blood-hisblood-slit in his wrist gaping in a sick smile at all of them, and he looks peaceful and happy.

“Not our fault.”

Dongwoo’s voice brings Chansik out of his memories and into the present, but he’s not sure it’s that much better because in his memories there’s still that fragile chance that Jinyoung might be okay, because in the present Jinyoung hyung is already gone, he’s lying in a huge hospital bed, so huge he looks like a small child and he’s not pretending to be asleep, no, he’s dead, he’s really dead, and Chansik wants to be angry at him again but the thing is-the thing is-

Jinyoung hyung has never looked this happy and peaceful in months.

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Okay, so this is the first time I've written something like this, and it's not a drabble, more like a one-shot but I'm posting it here anyway.

I was aiming for angst, but I'm not an angsty person by nature, and I wrote this right after I woke up at about 5am and I'm not sure just how much of a crap piece this is. 

What do you think, though?