Minho

The taxi that Key had ordered as soon as he had got off the phone from a distressed Jonghyun arrived in under four minutes. It must have been in the area luckily. But dispite this luck, the two guys sat in the back of the vehicle, Minho's hand clasped onto his fellow rapper's hand. In a normal situation, Key would have protested, they was only one thing on Key's mind and Minho knew it to be a certain, lead vocalist in the band. Though, Key, in a situation like this put all his own destructive emotions aside to comfort those in more pain that himself. It was one of his more beautiful qualities.

'He'll be ok won't he Key, yeah, he will be, he can't not be,' Minho whispered under his breathe, the words he spoke were trying to comfort himself more than answer any question. His hair was back to a long length, for the comeback that would have been in a few weeks time. The length of it hung over his eyes, but right now, strands of his deep brunette was stuck to his face, cemented by the tears he was trying to hold back.

'We'll be there soon and then we can see him.'

'But what if we can't . . .'

'Let's not . . .'

'But . . .'

'No.' Key inturrpted firmly, squeezng Minho's hand to silence him. 'Taemin will need our optimism. He will need our strength.'

They travelled in silence, a bitter-awful silence that clung to the top of Minho's mouth. But what if? There was no point in denying it to himself any longer. Taemin was the member of the band he was closest too, no it was more than that. Taemins was the only member that made him feel like  . . .The maknae was cute and funny and carefree, he was the only one who would stay up at night when Minho couldn't sleep and chat about silly things. And it was Taemin that Minho was completely drawn too, on stage and on set.

What hurt the most right now was the pure thought of never seeing his serene smile again. It was the only thing that got Minho threw those harder days, when he couldn't dance good enough, his voice wasn't clear enough and he questioned why he was even in the band at all. Taemin was the one that would run up behind him and wrap his arms around his stomach, those small fragile hands clinging to his sides. He would ruffle the maknae's curly hair and he would be standing there smiling like the dopey puppy he seemed to be. Taemin.

Taemin, was Minho's Taemin. He was the only one that made his heart quiver a little, he was the only one that made his stomach do little summersaults when Taemin grabbed his hand to pull him along somewhere. And it was truely only Taemin that when it was just the two of them Minho seemed inable to string a sentance together, he would stutter and stammer before gently pushing a laughing Taemin from embarassment. Only Taemin could do that to him. Not that the maknae knew this.

What if Minho never had the chance to tell him these things?

Jonghyun

'Where are they?!' Jonghyun demanded, shaking Onew by the shoulders. Without cause, the eldest member kept slipping into pained daydreams. He would suddenly stop listening to everything, he would stop reacting. His eyes would close and a furrow would appear between them from deep concentration.

'They will be here soon.'

'Then what?'

'We wait, Taemin's only just gone into theatre.'

'What else did the doc say?' Jonghyun's arms flailed as he spoke, anguish and anger was he could feel now, trapped inside the hospital, waiting. It was all directed towards he driver. The stupid, irresponsible driver. Poor Taemin.

'They have to put pins in both his legs, they've been cracked and shattered in several places, his ribs as well, they need to do something to put it all in the right place again . . .' Onew stopped speaking his voice was monotone anyway. His eyes mirrored Jong's own ; red, swollen, and dry. They had both run out of tears.

'But how much long . . .'

'As long as it takes.' Onew whispered, cutting in and answering the unfinished question of the shorter man, leaving him to pace ferociously around the clinical, white waiting-room. 

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